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[prael]

Day 4: A Two-step Problem

Nmixx Sullyoon & Kiss of Life Belle x male reader smut

words: 9,667 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

"She's coming here? This weekend? To this house?" The concoction of shock and confusion, topped with a little bit of annoyance, is in both Sullyoon's tone and expression. "This house!? This same exact house that I am sitting in!?"

Her outburst quickly settles into a sulk as she slouches in her dining chair. Her father turns to your mother for help that she doesn't offer. He's on his own with this one.

"Look," he starts gently. "She's my daughter too and I want to get to know her. I haven't seen her in years."

"You barely talk about her." Sullyoon counters, arms folded defensively across her chest. Her tone is laced with accusation. "I don't know anything about her."

Your mother shoots Sullyoon a glare, one that causes Sullyoon to step well over the line.

"Why are you okay with this? Another daughter that's not even yours coming into our home?"

You stare at your food, praying for the ordeal to be over.

"Stop being silly," your mother reprimands. "You are my daughter, and I'll treat Belle as my own too."

Sullyoon gives you a side-eye, and while she doesn't say anything else, you can see how desperate she is for you to take issue with it too. While you may not be as opposed as Sullyoon, you do have a reservation. "Where will she sleep?" You finally speak up, looking at your mother.

"Sullyoon, can she stay in your room?" she asks.

"No!" Sullyoon snaps. It's clear that she's still processing her frustration.

"It's fine." You turn to your mother. "She can take my room, I'll take the couch."

Sullyoon goes quiet for a moment, her mouth falling open in shock. She looks almost offended that you're not fighting by her side. Then she asks, "What's wrong with you?" and rolls her eyes when your answer comes in the form of an innocent shrug.

"Thank you," your stepfather says, shooting you an appreciative smile. Sullyoon's chair scrapes the floor as she stands up abruptly.

"I'm done." After a curt announcement of departure, she's already headed to her room.

Her father sighs. "Let her go," your mother advises. "She'll come around."

-

A few hours have passed since the revelation and you're in your room. Soft pillows beneath your lower back and slouched against the wall. The soft tones of music from the speaker across the room fill the air.

"Can you believe that shit?" Sullyoon curses the whole idea. "Belle, my long-lost sister, is coming to live here. What are we, some kind of 90s sitcom?"

"Can we not do this right now?" You respond, struggling to focus on both her and her words at one time.

"I thought you were on my side." She pauses for a moment and lets out a soft sigh. "You didn't even argue it."

"It's not that deep, Sullyoon," you grunt out the words, as her hot breath hits your face.

"Yeah well..." She falters. "...It is to me." You feel her fingers thread through your hair before finding a handful of the short strands at the base of your skull. You hiss, feeling her pull on them lightly, but you don't fight back. "Do you think she'll be annoying? And say loads of weird American things?"

"I don't care," you dismiss, putting your hand on her thigh and holding the flesh tight.

"Oh." She clears her throat and adjusts her position. "Well, I do care."

"You might get along." Your tone lacks commitment. It's almost impossible to focus with the smell of her perfume filling your nostrils. You bury your face into the crook of her neck. "You smell so good."

"I bet she thinks she's better than us."

"Sullyoon!" you snap. "For fuck sake!" You put your hand on her waist and lift her off your lap, letting her naked form fall lazily onto the bed beside you. "Conversation or sex, choose one."

"Hey!" She exclaims, annoyed about being pulled free from your cock.

Your irritation quickly fades away as you turn your head to look at her. Her dark hair spills out beneath her, messy, wavy and soft. Her smile is mischievous while her dark eyes sparkle with humour and intrigue. A million thoughts cross your mind but none of them can beat out the singular reminder that she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen. Her features are uniquely hers and yet, they seem perfectly matched to your taste.

"Okay, I'll stop talking about her then."

There is a shift in the energy of the room. She turns away from you, positioning herself on her knees and resting her cheek against the pillow below. There she lies in wait, ass on display for only you. You bite down on your bottom lip as you clamber behind her.

You reach out and wrap your hands around her hips, squeezing her flesh in between your fingertips. "Sullyoon." The syllables roll off your tongue. "Sometimes, things are hard." You press your cock, still coated in her slick juices, against her waiting cunt. "But you have to just take it."

You push into her pussy from behind. You watch the way the hole expands and stretches around you. The soft, pink walls give in to your intrusion. You hear the little gasp and moan that Sullyoon releases upon feeling you enter her again. You keep going until her round little ass is flush against your hips and the full length of your cock is buried inside her pussy.

From this angle, Sullyoon can do little more than submit. And so she does, allowing you to hold her by the hips, dragging her body back and forth until it moves in line with your rhythm.

"See?" you tease. "Feels better this way, doesn't it?"

"Fuck..." Sullyoon whines. "I hate when you do that."

"What?" You chuckle and spank her across the ass before grabbing a handful of her flesh once again. "When I talk down to you like that or when I make you feel like a little slut?"

"Yes." She squeezes her eyes shut. You listen to every pant and every moan. You feel her thighs shake and tremble against your skin. You know she loves this; there's no other reason why else she would allow you to take over her body and treat her this way. The two of you may bicker and argue and fight, but none of that matters when you're alone together in your bedroom, exploring one another. For all your arguments, you know there isn't another person in the world that feels as perfect wrapped in your arms.

As taboo as it may be.

She looks at you over her shoulder through misty brown eyes with pouted lips, looking all too delicious to touch. "Please," she begs in a small voice that sends a chill up your spine. "Harder. Faster."

"Good girl." The words flow seamlessly from your lips. You hold tighter onto her ass, for fear of the pleasure making her collapse against the bed. You start pounding into her from behind. Each slap of your hips connecting against her ass rings out against the silence of the room.

Sullyoon's hand grips the pillow beneath her head, squeezing it tight as her outlet for her building pleasure. It becomes too much, and she lets out a long moan. You're quick to lean in, take hold of her head and bury her face against the pillow.

"Quiet," you scold. You slide your fingers into her mouth and let them rest against her tongue. She welcomes you in, letting her lips seal around your digits. Her tongue runs laps across the tips of your fingers and the sensation causes an involuntary twitch of your hips.

"There we go," you coo. You can tell by the way she squeezes down on your length that she likes it when you praise her. She might try to play tough and cold, but you've learnt exactly what buttons to push to get her melting at your touch.

You can feel yourself edging closer, and so you reach down further. Sullyoon's clit is sensitive when you press your finger against it, judging by the way she bites down on your fingers. It takes only a few gentle rubs to bring her to the same point as you.

She whimpers softly against your fingers. You can almost feel the muffled cries vibrating against your skin as the knot of pleasure in her tummy begins to unravel. "That's it," you whisper. "Be a good sister and cum with me."

Sullyoon bucks and thrashes in pleasure. She reaches her orgasm at the same time as you and the two of you ride out the waves together. With each throb, you fill her up until she's practically overflowing. Finally, she collapses against the bed and you follow her shortly after. Her chest heaves against the bedsheets, tired and worn, and finally satisfied.

"You can't call me that," she complains, voice strained. "It's not cute, it's gross."

"And yet every time I do, you seem to cum harder," you respond simply. She rolls her eyes and scoffs, before shuffling into your embrace and resting her head against your chest. You both lay in silence, spent bodies wrapped up in each other's warmth. You absent-mindedly draw circles along her bare arm while she draws in deep breaths against your chest.

"I'm serious about this Belle thing." She breaks the quietude, her voice soft. You sigh heavily. "I don't want her here."

-

And yet, Saturday comes around just like clockwork.

The five of you sit awkwardly in the living room. A tray of drinks rests on the coffee table, untouched, and Sullyoon keeps shooting you pointed glares. The situation could be cut with a knife.

"It's such a long journey," Belle explains, talking fast and with a certain chirp in her voice. "We had to leave at five AM for the airport. It was still dark!"

"Oh my!" Your mother gushes. "So you must be tired." Sullyoon rolls her eyes hard.

"A little," Belle admits. "But I slept most of the flight so it's okay."

"Don't worry," you add politely. "It's a quiet area, you'll be able to sleep in tomorrow." She has only been here an hours but it's impossible to deny how charming Belle is. She's got a wide smile and sweet expressions—just a natural aura about her that makes her easy to speak to. It doesn't hurt that she's pretty, with large, dewy brown eyes, and soft hair resting on her shoulders. She wears a pair of jeans that hug her legs tightly and a top that's tied above her belly button.

She gives you this wide smile, that she's already given countless times, and thanks you, adding, "That sounds like heaven." Sullyoon's scoff catches everyone's attention. Four pairs of eyes fall on her and she squirms, hating the spotlight.

"Something wrong, dear?" your mom asks. Sullyoon shakes her head and reaches forward to grab her glass of lemonade. You can't help but let out a tiny laugh. Your mother shoots you both a suspicious glare but doesn't say anything.

You hadn't even noticed that Belle had been looking at you, but when you turn to meet her gaze you feel your stomach flip upside down. It could just be your overactive imagination but something in the look she's giving you has you flustered. Then she laughs too, albeit nervously. Your cheeks warm up and suddenly you have to look away.

"It's almost lunch, how about you help us in the kitchen, Sullyoon." Then your mother looks at you, "and you can show Belle where she'll be sleeping."

"Uh, sure," you reply, your words being met by Sullyoon shooting daggers with her eyes. Once your parents and your stepsister are out of sight, you gesture to Belle and she stands.

"The house is huge," she remarks, following you out of the room. "My old place was basically a box compared to this."

"Well, we live in the suburbs." You shrug. "I can show you around town later if you want." The two of you head up the staircase to where the bedrooms reside.

"You'd do that for me? Really?"

"Of course," you chuckle. Her giggles send goosebumps across your flesh. You pause for a moment and point down the hallway, "Mine is this way."

"This is so cool," Belle whispers. Really? A house is cool? "I always lived in this little studio apartment. My bed was right next to my kitchen."

Her casual remarks about her life, however mundane they are, are captivating. It's nice to meet someone so different from your usual friend group. "What was it like in the city?"

"Different from here," Belle responds. "It's loud all the time and the streets are busy, no matter the time or day." You push open the door to your bedroom and she follows in while she continues, "It was exciting but also way too much, you know? The parties were crazy—like movie-level crazy."

You gently nod as her thoughts trail off and she starts looking around the room. You watch as she takes it all in. Having made at least half an effort to clear some space for her, it looked kind of bare, compared to usual anyway. "Here," you offer, leading her over to your wardrobe. You slide open a couple of doors and explain, "This section is empty and you can hang your clothes up here."

"You didn't have to. I've lived out of my suitcase before when I travelled."

"No bother. You're a guest, make yourself comfortable." You gesture around the room. "I cleared the desk in case you need it and the sheets are fresh." (Which is good, after what you and Sullyoon had been doing the night before.)

"Thank you. This is already better than I could have ever hoped." When Belle smiles again, you feel a little flutter in your tummy. "Sorry about earlier," she adds. "Was your sister mad because of me?"

"She'll come around." You give a half-hearted assurance. Sullyoon's feelings aren't yours to share, but Belle does deserve some peace of mind. "Don't worry about her."

"I always wanted a sister, I hope she likes me." Belle nods gently, a faint expression of disappointment flashing across her face before fading back to neutral. She pauses and purses her lips together for a second. "And...you? Are you happy I'm here?"

"I've had to put up with one annoying step-sister for a long time, a second can't be much worse," you joke. A laugh leaves her lips and the tension dissolves instantly. The two of you stay silent for a few moments before you notice Belle starting to squint. "What's wrong?"

"It's really hot in here." She places her hand on her forehead as if checking her temperature. The thick beams of sunlight that are streaming in through the open curtains highlight her point. Sweat has started to gather on her neck and brow.

"Lemme fix that." You push open a window and draw a blind down. Belle waits patiently behind you as the bright morning sun vanishes into a muted grey. "There we go," you announce, turning around—and coming face-to-face with her. You freeze as if trapped by her intense gaze.

Her cheeks are flushed and her skin is hot. Beads of sweat shimmer in the sunlight. She stares at you, silently saying something that you can't quite decode. She smells sweet, like vanilla.

"Thanks." Her voice is soft, almost as delicate as the moment itself.

"You're welcome..." You say back, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

"Uh, how about the rest of the house?"

"What about it?"

"Aren't you supposed to be showing me around?" She laughs and her soft tone breaks the tension. You shake the daze out of your mind and clear your throat.

"Of course. Let's go."

You point out the rest of the rooms, and then show her the bathroom, explaining, "My parents have their own so this is basically ours." As you head downstairs, you let her know, "Just try not to take the world's longest showers like Sullyoon." Belle laughs, which gives you the chance to admire how cute she looks when she's smiling.

-

It's been a low-key couple of days. Belle spent the whole time fawning over how cool it was to live out in the suburbs and subtly cursing how she had grown tired of the city—though half it felt like a sly brag. You had taken her into town the day before last, and while you're sure she would have been fine going back alone, she's asking you to take her.

Much to the annoyance of a certain someone.

"But Sunday is movie night," Sullyoon complains, lying on her bed. You're standing in the doorway, arms folded, telling her about your plan to accompany Belle.

"I'll be back in time and we can watch whatever movie you pick this week," you dismiss, already knowing she isn't going to listen to any attempt of yours to compromise. "Also, you could come with us."

"If I did come, then I would be hanging out with her, and I don't want to hang out with her." Sullyoon states blankly.

A quick glance to your side and you see Belle, standing in the hallway, hearing everything that Sullyoon is saying. There's a small pout that forms on her lips. A glimmer of sadness in her eyes. You feel a pang of sympathy. While Belle tries to smile as if it's nothing, you see right through the facade.

"Don't worry," she says. "I can go on my own." And with that, she heads off downstairs. You turn to your stepsister and shoot her a harsh glare.

"C'mon! Don't give me that look." Sullyoon pouts dramatically. "She's a big girl, she's used to being independent."

"Would it kill you to at least get to know her?"

"You're busy doing that for the both of us." She shoots an accusatory look. "Is one step-sister not enough?" Her words drip with insinuation, and you feel your face flush at what she's implying. You roll your eyes and curse at her, which makes her stand and walk towards you. Before she speaks, she pulls you by the arms and closes her door. "Oh come on! Admit it," she presses. "You think she's cute, huh?"

"So what?" You shrug and avert your gaze, cheeks red.

Sullyoon pauses, processing your answer. "Do you wanna fuck her?"

"Sullyoon!" You snap, feeling the blood rush to your head.

Her grin is devious, "You want her to replace me? Huh?" She teases. "Get a brand new stepsister who sucks your dick extra well?"

"You're sick."

"Oh, please. I've seen the way you two look at each other. Don't be surprised if she offers to top and tail with you tonight." Sullyoon smirks, "The couch must be so uncomfortable." Her voice is laced with sarcasm.

-

She said it was just going to be for essentials. A few shops to pick up items that didn't fit in her bags for the plane trip over. Yet, somehow, you find yourself browsing designer dresses for sale.

"It's my first weekend in a new country," she explains, pulling a silk purple dress free and pressing it up against her body. "Don't I deserve to treat myself?"

"I guess, but dresses like this? When are you planning on wearing them?"

"To dinners. To a club. On a date?" She cocks an eyebrow. "Who knows?"

"Wouldn't it be better to make the plans and then buy the dress?" You suggest with a laugh. Though you hate to admit it, the sleek material would look great on her.

"You hungry?" she asks. "How about dinner?"

"We should wait until we're home. Mum is expecting us both."

"Do you always do what you're told?" Belle pries.

"No...I—" You hesitate. She tilts her head to the side and flashes you a mischievous grin.

"Great. I'll get changed into this, we can dump the bags in the car and find a nice restaurant." She declares decisively. After rummaging around her bag for her wallet, she turns to face you. "Wish me luck, it's probably expensive."

"Wait—"

She's walking away before you can protest. You watch as she goes up to the woman running the place and pays for the dress. After that, Belle disappears behind a dressing screen. All the while, you're standing there, holding bags and looking confused.

There are a few silent moments. Ones where you try to formulate an excuse to turn her down; but just as quickly as they appear, the arguments vanish. In reality, the idea of a nice meal with Belle isn't exactly unappealing.

The curtain is drawn back, and she appears.

Wow.

It takes less than a second for your eyes to land on her waist. How the deep purple fabric hugs her figure so nicely, wrapping tight around her curves and squeezing her form. It's strapless and plunges into a v-neck that shows off so much skin. The hem stops mid-thigh and swishes with the movement of her hips.

"So? How do I look?"

You swallow, clearing a lump in your throat. "Incredible."

"That means you're paying for dinner then."

"Hey!" You start to protest. But it's no use, she's already laughing, slipping on a pair of white heels that pull the outfit together perfectly.

The restaurant she chose is tucked away from the main street. The soft yellow light glows through a window pane, casting a warm haze onto the sidewalk below. She holds your arm as she walks, using you for balance. The smell of her perfume hits you just as hard as her outfit does, sweet like vanilla.

"This place looks pretty fancy, right?" she asks with a cheeky smile. "You won't mind treating me, will you? After all, I have moved halfway around the world."

You roll your eyes and follow her in. A waiter welcomes you both, and seats you at a small booth in the corner of the dining room. A candle flickers in the centre, between glasses and cutlery. Belle scans the menu and occasionally takes sneaky glances across the table.

"So, how often do you take girls on dates?" she pries. "Not counting me."

"It's not that often, really."

"Then I must be special," she remarks playfully. "But don't worry, you're pretty cute too."

"Oh yeah?" You decide to play along. "Enough for a second date?"

"Hmm... maybe." The conversation is light and easy and just seems to flow naturally without needing any prompts or effort from either end.

Once you've ordered, Belle sips on a glass of wine, staring at you intently, her gaze unwavering, "I wish Sullyoon liked me as much as you do." Her statement catches you off-guard.

"I'm sorry for the way she's acting," you apologise. "She's probably fearing being replaced. She has always been a bit of a daddy's girl."

"I guess I can understand where she's coming from," Belle concedes, swirling the drink in her glass, watching as the crimson liquid swirls around gracefully. "I would be hesitant too. Change can suck sometimes, especially when it's unexpected." She takes a sip and then continues, "I was talking to my dad for a while, about coming over. And you know what he would talk to me about, every time?"

"Sullyoon."

Belle chuckles lightly and puts down her drink. "Yeah. He couldn't help himself. Always talking about the things she was doing. The friends she had. All those clubs she took part in. Made me so excited to meet her."

"Oh..." Now you understand.

"When I got here and realised that I wasn't gonna get a warm reception, it kinda hurt."

"Yeah. I know she can be...stubborn. Sometimes." You sigh. "Don't give up though, I know you'll get to know each other eventually."

She looks at you with hopeful eyes. "You really think so?"

"She warmed up to me eventually." You shrug and take a bite from your food.

"And how long did that take?" Belle asks, her tone playful once more.

"A couple of years."

She laughs again. "Ah, shit." She sits back in her seat, and then looks at you, intrigued. "What changed?"

"Maybe we realised we have stuff in common, or that we were more similar than we thought."

Belle tilts her head to the side, seemingly mulling over what you said. She purses her lips and squints her eyes like she's trying to connect invisible dots. She stabs at her pasta and silently returns to her food.

"What was that?" you ask.

"Nothing," she dismisses. "So, I heard you mentioning a movie night."

"Yeah," you reply. "It's kind of a tradition. We pick a shitty movie, order some pizza, and make fun of it."

"Guess I'm ruining that now?" she suggests.

"It's just one time, we've missed it before and I'm sure we'll miss it again."

"Maybe next week I can join you?"

You think about how movie nights usually end. Sullyoon, spread across a bed, with your head between her legs. You remember the feeling of her soft skin and warmth, the sound of her moans filling the air. And now that memory includes Belle sitting beside you both.

You choke on your drink slightly.

"Oh God." Belle gasps. "What did I say?"

"Nothing, drink just went to the wrong place is all." You cough. "Yeah, sure, you can join us."

Time passes so easily. The conversation is nice, and she's such an interesting woman. She talks about her life, the places she has been and the people she has known. And you reciprocate. By the time the check arrives, you feel like you've known each other for much longer than four days.

"You know, my dad talked about helping me find my own place. I can't keep your room forever," she admits as she's finishing up her last drink.

"That's fine, I can survive on the sofa."

Belle chuckles at that. "I feel bad for putting you out like this." Her fingers reach out to brush yours, lingering there momentarily before retracting. The contact sends a shiver up your spine. "How about we share the bed?"

"Excuse me?" you say in shock. She laughs again.

"Not in that way. I mean, we can put pillows between us or something. It wouldn't be weird, just two siblings sleeping in the same room." She pauses and chuckles. "Unless you snore."

"I don't!"

"Well, I guess we'll find out."

-

When you finally return home, the house is eerily quiet. Both your parents' cars are missing and Sullyoon has retired to her room. Belle carries her purchases while you follow close behind.

As you step onto the landing, Sullyoon's bedroom door opens. She's dressed in one of your shirts. The light that floods out highlights how long her legs are, with her toned thighs in full view. She stands and watches Belle walk into your shared bedroom, before turning her attention to you. "So?" She asks, arms folding.

"So, what?" you counter.

"You going to apologise for ruining my weekend?" she huffs, arms crossing defensively. Her pouty expression almost tempts you to bite back.

"You were invited."

Sullyoon scoffs. "Oh yeah. So that I could third-wheel. No thanks."

You pause and chew your bottom lip. "Did you get to watch the movie at least?"

"Yes, alone." Her frown intensifies. You try not to laugh at how adorable she looks. "Goodnight."

She stomps back into her room and closes the door behind herself. You bite back an amused smirk. Sullyoon has the tendency to be petty, but you never seem to realise how far she'll go until she does it. Still, you decide not to dwell on it, knowing that Sullyoon would rather ignore the problem than confront it directly. She'll forgive you when she decides to.

You round the corner into your room, bags in hand, and that's when you see her, pulling down the zipper that runs along her spine. The fabric falls in ripples and reveals her back. From the arch between her shoulders down to the dimples in her lower back, the milky skin is exposed. Your throat dries up instantly.

"How am I supposed to feel about you ogling me like that?" Belle jokes, glancing at you over her shoulder. Her eyes shimmer with intrigue.

"Sorry." You quickly spit and then turn around. She doesn't say anything but you hear her light steps over the carpet as she rounds you and closes the bedroom door.

"I was joking," she says while facing you. Her hair falls over her shoulders and ends right above the cup of her bra. She looks like a model straight out of the pages of some lingerie catalogue. You struggle to stay composed.

"So was I," you reply, pretending to be cool while you turn away again to set the bags down in the corner of the room. Belle laughs under her breath.

"I've gotten used to living alone. If it makes you uncomfortable, I can put something on, but I'm used to sleeping in nothing but the covers." she offers. "But I don't mind, honestly."

The silence settles between you two and becomes deafening. You let out a nervous sigh. "It's okay," you finally state, grabbing shorts and a shirt and heading to the bathroom to change. "Just give me a moment." Once inside, you strip yourself of your clothes and run the water from the tap. You cup your hands together and fill them before splashing the cold water onto your face. You stare at yourself in the mirror.

This isn't a big deal. It doesn't have to be. You're going to be cool about the whole thing. You can handle having another gorgeous stepsister lying beside you in bed. It won't be hard at all.

You put your clothes on and march out of the bathroom. Belle has made herself comfortable in your bed, laying back against the pillow with her phone in hand. Her eyelids are half-open as she scrolls through social media apps lazily. The bedsheets cover her up to her shoulders.

"I've always slept on the left," she states absently, eyes still glued to her phone screen. You gulp. She pats the empty space beside her, invitingly. "That means you're on the right."

She turns off her phone as you enter the bed. As you slide under the covers, she turns and slides away to give you room. Your legs brush against hers by accident. Her smooth calves rub against yours and you freeze up. Then you feel her hand reaching out, touching your arm gently before drawing away again.

"Are you shy?" she asks with a tiny giggle.

"No," you lie, hoping that your cheeks aren't too flushed from embarrassment. The room goes pitch black when she flicks off the lamp. Only the distant glow of a street light shines through the curtains. Your eyes adjust and you make out her silhouette against the bedsheets.

"Just relax." Her voice echoes softly in the dark. She places her hand atop yours and squeezes firmly. She brushes her fingertips up along your forearm, stopping briefly near your elbow before trailing them back down again. Each stroke sends little shivers shooting up and down your spine. The effect of her touch is hypnotising; a powerful yet delicate combination of warmth and tenderness.

The movements continue for a while, in silence, as your eyes grow heavy.

"Sweet dreams," she whispers.

"Night Belle," you manage to mutter. Before you know it, you drift off to sleep.

-

At first, you don't even register the sensation, as if you are in a dream. First, it's the tickling of her hair in your face, followed by the feeling of her soft skin in your hand. Then it's the warmth, all along the front of your body. Belle is pressed against you tightly and your arm is around her. Holding her as the little spoon.

Your eyes flicker open.

You lay there in shock, unsure what to do, but also unwilling to move. The warmth radiates off of her, soothing every inch of you that she touches. Her breathing rises and falls slowly, as though she hasn't stirred yet. Her fragrance surrounds you, intoxicatingly sweet, leaving you lightheaded.

You try to adjust the arm that's trapped under her but she threatens to stir awake, mumbling unintelligibly against the pillow, as she shuffles around to get comfortable against you again. She moves her body against yours and presses harder.

Suddenly, you become very aware of exactly which parts of your bodies are making contact. Her ass grinds up against your crotch and the sensation causes a wave of heat to course throughout your entire core. Panic kicks in as you will your morning wood to retreat as quickly as possible. Yet no amount of willpower can stop the natural reaction to her plush butt cheeks.

You focus your attention elsewhere, trying to distract yourself by thinking of mundane tasks to pass the time—anything to prevent yourself from acknowledging your growing arousal. You count the speckles on the ceiling and list off ingredients of your favourite foods.

It doesn't work.

You have to get out. You start by pulling away your body, minimising the contact and creating separation. But then there's your arm, still stuck under her. Gently, ever so gently, you lift yourself away, trying to drag your limb free.

"Leaving already?" comes Belle's question. Her tone drips with mock offence.

"What? Uhhh.." you stutter. Shit. Not good.

Belle flips around to face you. In the morning glow, she's positively radiant. A beautiful angel bathed in warm sunlight. Her silky hair flows delicately as she turns. She flashes a devilish smile and says, "Look at that, our first night sharing a bed and you're already cuddling with me."

You're speechless. Blood rushes to your cheeks and you feel your heart beat faster in your chest.

"It was nice," she smiles. "Even if you were poking me in the ass."

Your jaw drops. Shame bubbles in the pit of your stomach and causes your skin to prickle. She laughs and pushes the sheets down to your waists. She's fucking topless. Your eyes widen as you catch sight of her breasts, perfect teardrops that hang deliciously against her chest, crowned by erect pink nipples. The sight sends you reeling into total disarray.

"You can't help it, I know." Her voice cuts through your dazed thoughts like a blade slicing through butter. "All guys wake up horny." She shuffles a little closer. "I can help it, though." Her hand snakes down beneath the sheet, into your shorts, and suddenly there's the unmistakable sensation of her fingers wrapped around your cock.

"Belle—" Her name leaves your throat weak and cracked. Heat envelops you and your brain goes into overdrive. No way is this real.

"Shhh," she whispers, leaning in until her lips are hovering close to yours. "I want to help," she says with a mischievous smirk.

She starts slowly stroking your dick. At first, it feels strange and foreign, but gradually melts into pleasure as the friction increases. Belle continues to stare, watching as the corners of your mouth twitch and twist, as if studying her own effect on you. Every time your breath hitches she seems to gain more confidence. She grips tighter and works her wrist faster, building up a steady rhythm.

"See, we can share this room." She keeps moving her hand up and down in perfect strokes, varying the pace every few seconds. Sometimes fast and firm, then slow and gentle. It's enough to drive anyone mad. "Isn't it great?"

"This is so messed up," you manage to groan out as your hips lift involuntarily.

"Is it?" She kisses the corner of your mouth. "Doesn't seem that bad to me."

She's right. It feels incredible. Despite everything, you don't want her to stop. You lean into her, desperate for her to kiss you, but instead, she pulls away, giggling softly. That only serves to frustrate you further, which seems to encourage her even more. She quickens her pace and leans closer to you again, stopping inches away from kissing distance once more.

Your eyes grow heavy again, but this time it's not sleep that overtakes you. Instead, it's bliss.

"Belle, what the fuck..." you whisper. Pleasure is burning hot in the base of your gut. Her wrist rolls as she jerks you off harder. "Why..."

She lets you go, hand slipping out of your shorts as quickly as it entered. "Here." She cups your hand in her own and pulls it towards her chest. "Feel free to touch." You know what happens when you allow temptation to guide your actions. Sullyoon is a case and point.

Despite that, you're unable to resist.

Her breast fits perfectly in your palm. So soft. Your fingers graze over the sensitive nipple. The moans that follow sound heavenly, even more so when accompanied by her coy smile. Without warning, her lips press against yours, sealing off any sort of protest. Her tongue dances across your bottom lip and into your mouth. Soft. Wet. Hot.

Heat pools between your legs. Her hand returns to its former place around your cock. She's so slow now, achingly deliberate. Your mind spins endlessly; overwhelmed by desire.

When you pull back, she gives a sly wink, "Tell me what you think, hm?"

"It feels so fucking good," you sigh. She responds with another kiss. The room fades to silence beyond your muffled moaning and wet kissing sounds. Time itself seems to grind to a halt.

"I knew you'd enjoy it," she murmurs into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe before continuing, "Now...how about you return the favour?" Her words trail off as she lifts one of your fingers into her mouth. Her tongue twirls around it for a moment and then releases it with a wet pop.

"Sure," you mutter, too distracted to care about anything else. You slip your hand beneath the duvet and then push at her hip, turning her onto her back. You admire her upper body. From her chest to the curve of her hips, to the dip of her waist, she looks divine. Belle lies back and spreads her legs. And when your hand snakes between her thighs, she raises her arms above her head and grips the pillow tight.

"Fuck," she gasps as your fingertips run along her slit gently, enjoying how she bucks upwards to meet your digits.

"You're soaked," you marvel.

Belle grins wickedly and exhales slowly. "Mhm," she agrees. "And who's fault is that?"

"Me," you respond quickly.

You brush up and down her pussy with agonising slowness, revelling in how her slick fluids cling to your fingers, and coat them in their essence. After a few seconds of exploration, you circle her clit slowly with two fingertips. Her eyes snap shut instantly and she whimpers softly under her breath. It's mesmerising. She squirms wildly, biting down hard on her bottom lip to stifle her squeals of ecstasy.

Then she lets out this long drawn-out moan while she squeezes the pillow tight against the back of her head. "Fuck," she curses.

Your finger sinks inside of her effortlessly.

"T-that feels..." she whimpers between staggered breaths. You pump in and out of her, curling upwards against her walls every single time. Her hips sway to meet your thrusts, matching them perfectly. The sight drives you insane.

You withdraw your finger from her depths and circle it across her folds. Her legs tremble in anticipation.

"Please," she begs. Your cock throbs painfully.

She tilts her head backwards, baring the pale skin of her neck to you. An offering. One you take happily.

You press your lips against her soft flesh, savouring her taste. Her scent overwhelms you. You can feel her pulse thrumming frantically just beneath the surface of her skin. There's something intensely primal about being able to feel someone else's heartbeat racing against your own.

Your teeth clamp down on the area between her jaw and collarbone, holding her securely as you explore every inch of her sex with newfound fervour.

It isn't long until she writhes beneath you, panting heavily while clinging desperately to the bedsheets around her. Your movements grow faster, more frantic. Hungry even.

She threatens to get loud, and you know how bad that could be. There's a reason Sullyoon always comes into your room, it's the furthest from your parents, and even then you find yourself putting a palm over her mouth. Now it's just one thin wall. One thin wall separates Belle's moans from Sullyoon's ears.

So you shut her up the best way you know how.

She seems surprised when your mouth crashes against hers, silencing her squeals with your tongue, but the feeling is fleeting. Her arms wrap around the back of your neck, pulling her closer towards you. She tastes like strawberries and smells faintly of vanilla.

You absorb her moans into your mouth as she cums on your hand.

Her thighs tighten around you, locking your fingers deep within her core. She shudders violently as waves of pleasure wrack through her frame. Slowly but surely she relaxes again, letting out contented sighs mixed with tiny giggles of delight. When she opens her eyes again, her pupils are dilated and wide, shining brightly. She stares up at you dreamily. Her cheeks flushed red. Lips plump from kisses.

"Holy shit." Belle exhales hard before speaking again. Her voice still shakes with euphoria. "Good morning indeed."

"Yeah," you chuckle, rolling back to give her space.

"No," she stops you by placing a hand on your stomach. "We haven't finished."

"We haven't?"

"You haven't." She runs a hand down your body until it's back to how all this started. This time, she pushes your shorts clear of your hips and lets your erection spring free. She's climbing up and over you as she speaks, "Let me return the favour. We're family now."

Then she takes you into her mouth. Your thoughts blur together into a haze of lust and arousal, blinding your vision temporarily. Everything else fades away except for this girl who sucks your dick like she needs it to survive. Her tongue swirls around the crown of your tip teasingly while she bobs back and forth steadily. She hums around you, sending vibrations reverberating throughout your entire length, sending tingles shooting up and down your spine.

As her effort rises, so does she. Onto all fours and swinging a leg over yours. She's giving you this look—this hungry stare. You're hers now. Totally at her mercy. She keeps eye contact as she sucks you deeper than before. Then, without warning, her head lifts away from your cock completely, leaving behind a slick trail of spittle dripping down her chin. She wipes it away with her knuckles nonchalantly. Still wearing that predatory expression. Something about the action, the confidence of it, it makes you shiver.

She starts to stroke you, right before she dips her pretty face down to place her lips on your balls. Then it's her tongue, warm and wet against the sensitive skin. She alternates between tender kisses and loving licks all while staring up past your cock to meet your gaze. It's unbelievably hot.

"Don't cum yet," she whispers sweetly before returning her mouth around your length again.

"Can't promise anything," you groan back.

"Cute," she murmurs around your shaft.

Belle works you for a while. Those smokey eyes watch your every involuntary reaction while she worships your cock. Every twitch gets a quiet giggle. Every choked moan is met with a little lick across the tip.

It doesn't take long until the fire in your belly begins to spread.

"Belle," you strain, barely keeping a hold of your composure. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

"Not yet," she says with a smirk. "Here."

She shifts ever so slightly again, pushing her chest towards her pumping hand. She presses your tip against the hard nipple and jerks you off, alternating between the stiff buds. All you can do is watch, totally transfixed by what's happening before you. Her movements grow quicker and more frantic. Until it becomes almost too much.

You let it out, right onto her pretty little tits. Thick ropes across her flawless skin, painting her while she smiles. Even after you've been spent, she keeps working your shaft until it becomes painful. Oversensitivity has never felt sweeter.

"Oh god." Belle looks down at the mess you've made on her chest. Her grin is devious. She slips off the bed, taking a spare towel from underneath it and wiping at her chest and your crotch. Once you're both clean, she tucks you back in and crawls onto your torso. With a small bounce, she nestles down and lays on top of you. Her chest presses against yours.

"So," she coos, resting her chin on your sternum. "That happened."

You laugh and she quickly joins you. There's a feeling of shared exhilaration hanging between you both. A giddiness that comes from knowing you have just crossed an invisible boundary together.

"That was so fucking hot." Belle brings her palm up to cradle the side of your head affectionately. Her thumb brushes small circles against your temple, tracing patterns along the outline of your cheekbones. After a few seconds, her smile starts to fade. "Do you hate me?"

"Why would I?" You ask sincerely.

"I don't know. You're my step-brother. And I just..."

Her tone makes your heart ache ever so slightly, causing you to reach out for her face and cup her cheek in your palm. "If you hadn't made a move, I would have anyway," you confess.

"You're as messed up as me, then."

She has no idea.

-

Towel and a change of clothes in hand, you start to open the bathroom door when you hear your name. Sullyoon's distinct voice. You hesitate, halfway through the threshold, and turn back to see her walking down the corridor. "So, what, you don't like me anymore?"

"What are you talking about?" You retort defensively.

She puts on this mocking voice. "'Yes Belle, I'll take you to town.' 'Yes Belle, I'll take you to dinner and stand up the sister I actually know.' You've known her for two minutes! Two!"

You feel shame rising inside your chest. It's a weird feeling that just trying to be a good brother (or a bad one) has driven some divide between you and Sullyoon. You try to explain, "She's flown to a whole new country. It's difficult. We have to welcome her. If I didn't have to do it alone then we could see each other more." You sigh, "She really wants to hang out with you, you know."

Sullyoon crosses her arms, looking smug, "Oh, I bet."

"She does," you insist, trying your best not to appear too frustrated with her. "She was excited about movie night and she wants to join us next week." To this, Sullyoon simply scoffs.

"Yeah, right."

There's a pause where neither of you knows what to say. Eventually, it is broken by your stepsister's words.

"Doesn't change the fact that you left me alone on our night." She pouts dramatically, her bottom lip sticking out adorably. You roll your eyes at her antics. Sometimes, her stubbornness can border upon childishness.

"Sullyoon," you say flatly. "Come on. That's not fair."

She shrugs dismissively, clearly unconvinced. "What's not fair is that we haven't done it in almost a week."

You drop your towel and clothes on the bathroom floor and step out quickly towards her. You quickly hold your palm against her plump lips to silence her. "Not so loud."

She grabs your wrist, pulling her mouth free. "Our parents are out, calm down." But then she uses the leverage to yank you forward, right into her arms. "Maybe you should make it up to me."

"Sullyoon." You chastise. Boundaries exist for a reason, and doing this out here in the hallway is not what you agreed. You pry her away and walk back into the bathroom.

She follows each step, and as soon as you turn back to close the door, she's already slipping through and closing it herself. Before you have a chance to protest, Sullyoon's hands grab your face and bring you into a fierce kiss. She wastes no time sliding her tongue between your lips, demanding entry. You resist for only half a second before giving in fully, allowing yourself to become consumed by her passionate embrace. Her fingers grasp tufts of your hair tightly, tugging at the strands gently enough that it sends pleasant shivers running down your spine instead of hurting.

"The hell are you doing?" You eventually ask when she breaks away from your mouth, albeit reluctantly.

"Making up for lost time," she whispers as she slips down to her knees, grabbing the sides of your shorts.

You panic. "Hey, hey—" you exclaim as you stop her. She looks at you confused as to why you aren't happy with getting blown. She furrows her brows and then forcefully tugs them down. Your soft cock springs free, hanging mere inches from her waiting lips. Sullyoon licks them in anticipation while keeping her eyes trained solely upon yours.

But that's when she notices something.

There's a brief moment where the two of you lock gazes; where there should be nothing but lust swimming amidst those hazel irises, there is concern. She inhales sharply, catching a scent which throws her into alert mode. You can practically see the gears turning within her brain.

She stands up immediately, stares you dead in the eyes and says, "What the fuck is that?"

"What?"

"Don't play dumb with me, dumbass. You smell like sex and there's lipstick on your cock."

Shit.

"Belle!" Sullyoon calls as she marches back down the hall, bursting into your bedroom. You almost stumble over your shorts and rush to pull them back up to your waist. You dash behind her, terrified at what will happen next.

You round the corner into your room and Sullyoon is standing at the foot of your bed. Belle has her phone in hand, still lying in bed, with the covers up to her chest.

"Slut!" Sullyoon snaps.

"Excuse me?" Belle sits up straight, clutching the duvet to cover herself up properly, glaring back at your sister angrily.

"You heard me. Stay the fuck away from him. He's mine. My brother."

You wince in the silence. Belle just stares at the furious Sullyoon while the gears turn in her mind. Glancing back and forth between the two of you, she's clearly piecing it together. She smirks and then chuckles. "Oh my god! You're fucking him!"

"That's none of your business." Sullyoon retorts sharply.

"Now it all makes sense," she says while pointing her finger and waggling it between you and Sullyoon. "Do I threaten you?"

"No." Sullyoon lies, rather poorly.

"That's cute," Belle laughs. "So, what, you're in love with your brother?"

"No!" Sullyoon snaps, more assured of herself that time. "That's gross."

Belle gives you a look. "So it's just about the sex? What's the big deal?" She asks bluntly. "Clearly he has a type." She gestures to you and smirks again. "There's enough of him to share."

Sullyoon scoffs at her proposal. "Share?" she repeats incredulously. She glances back at you and you offer nothing but a shrug in reply. "Absolutely not," Sullyoon responds firmly.

"Why?" Belle questions innocently.

"I don't wanna."

"Come on," Belle whines, letting her frustration show for once. She throws up her hands dramatically as she argues passionately, "Look, I understand wanting to keep him all to yourself, believe me! He's adorable." As she speaks, her eyes rake up and down your body appreciatively, making heat rise to your face rapidly. "I'm not trying to steal him or anything. Actually, we might just have more in common than you think."

Sullyoon rolls her eyes. "Unbelievable," she sighs.

"Just picture it," Belle insists. "The three of us, here, together."

"What are you suggesting, exactly?" Sullyoon crosses her arms. She isn't going anywhere.

"A threesome."

"Belle..." you caution, but it goes unheard.

"You can even go first," Belle offers casually.

This is ridiculous. Completely absurd. You watch the scene unfold in disbelief. Sullyoon appears to mull the proposition over, her foot tapping impatiently against the carpet as she thinks. There's no way she will agree. Not in a million years would she even consider such a thing... Right?

Sullyoon closes her eyes briefly and inhales deeply through her nose before exhaling slowly. She looks between both of you several times until she finally meets your gaze again and nods decisively. "Fine. Let's do this. Right here, right now." Her tone has turned resolute, decisive, confident, and bordering on cocky.

Your mouth falls agape. Is this really happening?

"Wait. Really?" Belle seems equally shocked by this sudden change. Apparently neither one of you expected her acquiescence quite this quickly or easily.

You look between the two girls. Back and forth. They're doing the same. It's this strange triangle of hesitancy and confusion.

"So how do we...?" Sullyoon trails off, obviously unsure as to how things work from this point forward. She's used to your shared normal, your routine; just the two of you having sex. Spontaneity demands creativity.

"I don't know. It's kinda..." You chime in but don't know how to explain it.

Belle rolls her eyes at the two of you. "Oh my god. Come on." She scoots closer toward the edge of the bed, pulling the duvet away. It slides off her shoulders revealing the perfect curve of her bare breasts. It's not like you've forgotten the sight of them not long ago (nothing about Belle is forgettable) but it sure does hit differently under the context of the situation. She gestures to the bed behind her. "If you two want to fuck, just fuck."

Sullyoon shoots daggers at Belle but still decides to approach regardless. When she reaches you, she grabs your hand roughly and drags you onto the mattress with her. It's all so easy, so natural, falling into a tangle of limbs with her. Even if Belle is watching, even if she's sitting right there. None of that matters anymore because once your mouths collide, everything else fades into insignificance.

You taste the sweetness of her saliva. Feel the warmth radiating off her skin. Smell her familiar perfume, lavender and honey. She's all around you, encasing you completely and enveloping you entirely until all that remains is her. The kiss grows more intense, tongues wrestling as she straddles your lap and grinds her crotch down onto yours eagerly. Desperately seeking relief from the throbbing between her legs.

Then her fingers snake beneath your shirt and lift it over your head, breaking contact. She flings the clothing across the room carelessly before returning the attention to your lips once more. As she leans in for another embrace, you remember exactly where you are, who's there with you, and why they're here.

"Belle—" you start, breaking away mid-kiss. You gesture to her awkwardly as Sullyoon starts mouthing at your neck.

"Mmm?" She answers as she crawls towards your outstretched hand.

"Are you okay with this?"

She takes it upon herself to grab hold of your wrist and guide your palm right onto her naked breast, guiding it around with her own grip. She holds you there until you get the memo, massaging it gently between your digits whilst rubbing her fingertip atop your finger delicately, coaxing you to tweak her erect nipple. "Very," she finally replies.

"This is so weird," Sullyoon remarks, lifting away from your shoulder as Belle moves to her side and perches on her knees.

"It was already weird before I got involved," Belle jokes back, giving you a mischievous grin. She brings her free hand up to cup Sullyoon's cheek.

Sullyoon shies away, "I won't kiss you."

"I wouldn't expect it."

They look at each other for a moment, as if silently coming to some kind of understanding that transcends verbal language altogether. After a few more seconds pass by without further incident, you see them exchange conspiratorial smirks, as though they were sharing some hilarious joke at your expense.

Sullyoon pulls her top over her head, while Belle makes a move at your shorts. For the second time this morning, she's pulling your cock free from them, only this time, she's presenting it to Sullyoon. Her hand wraps around the shaft and starts to jerk it up and down, eliciting a low moan out of you which catches their collective attention. Belle smiles slyly.

In her delicate lace bra, Sullyoon lowers her head, opens her mouth and presents her tongue. Belle presses your tip onto her tongue and Sullyoon is quick to lap at it hungrily. She slides her hands up along your thighs, gripping firmly as she takes you deeper.

"That's hot," Belle murmurs softly, still pumping you.

All you can do is bite your lip and watch as your stepsisters service your length together, competing for its pleasure and attention. They swap turns, passing you back and forth while occasionally meeting in the middle, sucking along either side. It's a little awkward, the way they get in each other's way, but somehow that makes it hotter. Seeing their cheeks squish together, heads bump and lips brush accidentally while fighting for dominance over your dick.

At one point, when Sullyoon has sucked you all the way to the hilt, you notice Belle burying her fingers into Sullyoon's hair. Then the hand slides further, until it cups the back of your sister's head. Then she pushes, holding her in place while she swallows your entire length. Sullyoon panics at first, spluttering slightly against your shaft before she relaxes, settling into the gag, taking it for a bit longer before Belle releases her.

"Fuck!" Sullyoon gasps once she has the freedom to breathe. Strings of spittle connecting her open mouth to the tip of your cock. "Why?"

"Because it's hot," Belle shrugs.

"She's right," you manage to groan out. "Very hot."

"See?" Belle states triumphantly. She places her hand behind your sister's head again, "So do it again."

Sullyoon doesn't put up any resistance. Belle pushes her down, holding her down again as you enter deep into the wet confines of her throat. Sullyoon grips tightly at the flesh of your thighs and tries to relax her body. Despite the initial discomfort, there's no denying that having someone else dictate the terms of her oral servitude adds another layer of eroticism to the whole affair. Belle lets her resurface with a deep gasp for air, spit smeared across her chin, a thin strand dangling precariously between the underside of your erection and the tip of her tongue.

"Look at how pretty you are like that," Belle coos condescendingly while stroking Sullyoon's hair affectionately, almost lovingly even. In spite of everything else, the humiliation of being reduced to such an object, you catch Sullyoon blushing at the praise. Even more shocking, Sullyoon seems to lean into her caresses willingly.

"You've made her blush, Belle." You joke lightly, breaking some tension. It earns a glare from Sullyoon. The humour is short-lived.

After another couple of rounds, during which you have to fight every instinct within yourself not to cum in either of their mouths, Belle asks, "Can I see you ride him?"

One thing is becoming clear: Belle loves to watch.

Sullyoon sits up and wipes the excess saliva from her jawline with the back of her wrist, still panting slightly from being choked so thoroughly. After regaining some composure, she merely nods her consent. There's an underlying tension, however subtle, woven throughout their interaction now but a hint of mutual respect borne from seeing the other's ability to please you so well.

As Sullyoon stands, Belle seems to ponder. On her knees, staring at her sister's body, as if admiring every aspect of her figure; slender legs, tight waist, and cute ass. You get it. You've been there. Gawking at Sullyoon from afar, stealing glances while nobody notices, fantasising about those very curves. And yet it's surreal seeing somebody else experiencing it in front of you.

When Belle speaks up, she points to Sullyoon's shorts. "May I?"

"Go ahead," Sullyoon mutters nonchalantly, almost absentmindedly. Her full focus seems to revolve around climbing onto your lap. Meanwhile, Belle carefully peels away the fabric that clings to Sullyoon's lower body, easing her out of them until her legs come free. In a series of graceful motions, Belle has exposed Sullyoon down to nothing—helped because Sullyoon never wears underwear in the house.

As Sullyoon settles over your hips, resting on her knees, Belle crawls up next to you, positioning herself comfortably alongside your body. She props herself upright, leaning sideways against your torso for support. With a finger, she traces shapes across your chest, drawing abstract patterns into your skin idly while keeping her eyes locked exclusively forward, entranced by Sullyoon above you.

She takes hold of your dick at its base. Taking her time to drag both it and herself against each other, exchanging spit and slick fluids that coat them. There's a little sway and rotation to her hips, teasing incessantly until the anticipation threatens to drive you mad. The soft skin of her tummy looks so tasty from here, rising and falling slowly as she breathes and moving as she rolls her body.

There comes a point where enough is enough.

Just as you reach to grab yourself and guide it inside of her, Belle stretches her hand down between Sullyoon's legs and takes hold of your cock instead. She slaps your tip against your sister's swollen clit. Up and down, hitting the sensitive button repeatedly. All it takes is one errant flick downwards, however accidental (or not), and now your cockhead is nestled snugly into Sullyoon's entrance.

Belle draws her palm back up over your body. "Sorry, my bad," she giggles. Except you know better, seeing the smug twinkle that sparkles behind her irises. Before you can say anything more, Sullyoon succumbs to gravity and the pleasure it brings. Her hips sink down. Accepting inch after inch of you inside of her welcoming pussy until every last bit fits snuggly within her walls. She groans quietly.

It's all so familiar—the sensation of being enveloped by her velvety folds—but still wonderful nonetheless.

The shift of pressure when she begins to grind on top of you reminds you of those many times in the evening darkness, those instances when all that mattered was staying silent. Now you have an audience. Somebody watching intently from your side.

Belle watches the action unfold, a gasp here and giggle there. Sullyoon's body arches back subtly whilst she rocks her pelvis back and forth rhythmically atop yours. Her eyelids droop heavily as ecstasy surges through her veins, causing goosebumps to prickle over her smooth flesh as she rides.

"You like riding your brother's dick?"

"Y-Yes," Sullyoon stutters out, too preoccupied to register fully what she said. This sets off the deviant in Belle. You sense her growing bolder, more confident with her lecherous remarks knowing they'll be met with little to no resistance.

"You gonna cum on it?"

"Yes!" Sullyoon cries. Every downward motion presses her clit against your pubic bone, sending waves rippling through her petite frame. You grip her waist firmly, helping her. Her ass collides loudly against your thighs when she bottoms out each time. There's hardly any need for you to buck your hips and meet her.

"Yeah, you love fucking your stepbrother, don't you?"

Sullyoon only whimpers. Whatever argument or shame she might muster has fallen prey to her own desires. Now that she's been given permission—to indulge these fantasies openly with others—it appears as though she'll never go back. How can anyone turn away from such bliss?

And to your own amazement, neither of you seems fazed by the fact Belle bears witness to everything transpiring before her eyes.

"So dirty. Such a bad girl." Belle's tone is sultry sweet like honey dripping off a spoon. She leans closer and plants her lips against yours softly. It takes a second, a single heartbeat passing in silence where your tongue darts forward to greet hers. Suddenly the kiss has become something fierce and passionate—an exchange filled entirely with unbridled hunger that knows nothing besides passion itself. Nothing exists beyond its carnal needs right now except for maybe one thing...

An explosion erupts deep within Sullyoon; an eruption so violent that it causes her entire form to shake uncontrollably atop you. Her moans fill your bedroom, and her whole body draws tense before collapsing limply upon you like a marionette whose strings had just been cut loose by some unseen force. She quivers and writhes atop your throbbing shaft.

"Must be one hell of a ride," Belle comments through laboured breaths.

"Find out for yourself," you respond, matching her energy.

"Mmmm," she purrs thoughtfully whilst absentmindedly tracing circles across Sullyoon's exposed backside. "Let's switch, 'kay?"

You're quick to respond. Grabbing onto Sullyoon's ass cheeks, digging your fingertips firmly into each supple mound as you hoist her upwards. Your cock slips effortlessly free, causing a shudder to run through you both simultaneously before pulling apart completely. A mixture of sexual fluids oozes messily down her thighs when you set her aside on the mattress.

Now it's Belle's turn.

The atmosphere shifts drastically as she straddles you. Where previously things had taken on this languid dreamlike state—with Sullyoon's gentle undulations atop your cock, punctuated by moans echoing throughout the room—now the urgency returns anew.

Once Belle has mounted you correctly, sinking down until she reaches hilt-deep within herself, then she starts gyrating wildly. Hips rolling furiously fast and grinding her sex hard against yours, driving you deeper than ever before.

Her tits bounce deliciously from the impacts and her lips purse prettily with exertion. From nothing to everything in the blink of an eye. She's leaning over you, pressing her forehead against yours and staring right into your soul as she rides your cock mercilessly. And those eyes—those beautifully smokey eyes—are burning with lustful fervour.

Belle's hot breath mingles sweetly together amidst the haze surrounding you two. Then her lips crash against yours in a searing kiss that steals away whatever remaining oxygen you have left within your lungs. Tongues dance between teeth, entwining passionately against one another until you're forced apart by necessity.

"How is he?" Sullyoon speaks up. She sounds remarkably coherent despite appearing like a spent mess lying sprawled out beside you two.

"Fucking huge," Belle gasps in response without breaking stride. Her pace doesn't slow at all, if anything she speeds up even more in defiance to accommodate your size better. Her voice wavers slightly when she speaks again. "He feels so good," she murmurs softly against your earlobe.

"Give me his face," Sullyoon demands, crawling closer to you, propping her body upright next to your head. Once her hands cup your cheeks and tilt your face up, she swings a leg over your head and positions her snatch directly above your mouth. Then she descends downwards gently, pressing herself flush against your lips.

As soon as contact occurs between tongue and slit, Sullyoon jolts upright suddenly as bolts shoot straight towards her core. Eagerly lapping away at her glistening cunt causes a ripple effect throughout her whole physique, making her hips gyrate involuntarily against your open mouth.

Belle continues slamming herself down hard atop you, rocking your entire foundation relentlessly. She throws her head backwards as the momentum builds steadily higher and higher. Unrestrained groans spill freely from her throat unchecked as pleasure overwhelms every other rational thought inside her brain. Meanwhile, you feast on the nectar that flows forth copiously from your step-sister's pussy, savouring the ambrosia coating thickly around your tongue as you slurp it greedily down.

Time loses meaning while submerged beneath the sea of sensations cascading over you ceaselessly—nothing existing beyond the confines of flesh pounding against flesh nor the taste saturating every inch of your being.

You claw for some sort of respite, finding your fingers digging into Sullyoon's ass as a makeshift warning of the feeling in your body. You're close but they won't stop, in fact, Belle works harder.

Everything escalates tenfold. Everything gets faster; harder; wilder.

It drives you absolutely insane.

Your cock spasms violently inside of Belle's convulsing sex. Simultaneously, she's screaming something incomprehensible—not quite words necessarily but definitely conveying something meaningful nonetheless. The surge of euphoria crashes through you like waves crashing upon the shore during a stormy night—ferociously crashing through every fibre of your being with unrestrained vigour. Cum floods her depths in hot thick spurts and her body tenses rigidly, shaking fiercely whilst gripping tightly onto you for stability. Sullyoon trembles too, twitching sporadically and squealing loudly through clenched teeth before eventually slumping forward once again, collapsing heavily upon your face while riding out her orgasmic peak alongside yours.

Seconds feel like minutes, minutes seem like hours.

Eventually, the intensity fades, replaced instead by gentle numbness which fills the void afterwards. You lay there, breathing raggedly—heart hammering heavily within ribcage and sweat trickling down skin dampened thoroughly, amongst bodily fluids staining sheets soaked in evidence of prior debauchery. Eventually, your sisters roll off of you.

Silence prevails for several long moments afterwards. No sound penetrates beyond shallow breaths. Nobody says anything; no words need be uttered aloud to express emotions present right now anyway.

***

Three days later, you wake up in bed, sandwiched between your sisters. Legs intertwined, warm skin brushing against one another and soft chests pillowing against your sides. Asleep.

This isn't unusual—not anymore. How quickly it has all become routine to sleep squished between them.

It's also not weird or uncomfortable. At least, you try to convince yourself of that. Because otherwise...well...

You decide not to finish the thought. Instead, you opt to focus solely on enjoying the sensation of having both beautiful girls wrapped snugly around you. Revel in their warmth and breathe deeply their scent. Cherish this dirty, taboo arrangement for all it's worth. There will surely come a day when everything falls apart; when reality inevitably comes knocking at the door. But until then, why not indulge? 

[barbaralimao]

Look, I've learned about Calvin in school, all right, both fundamental and high school, but as my books were marxist, we learned it in the way of "oh, and this shitty guy is one of the reason why capitalism SUCKS, the USA is the worst place on earth, Imperialism IS THE DEVIL ITSELF. Do you know how the Portuguese fucked us over? SO, it would be WAY WORSE if they were Calvinists." (I went to school in Brazil in the turn of the century, we were having a ball after the end of the Dictatorship and showing critical everything to everyone. And while I do not like the marxists interpretation in my school books, it's only because it takes our agency on major things of our history).

And that's it, I followed with my culturally catholic life with a deep distrust of evangelicals and stuff (THEY BROKE IMAGES OF THE VIRGIN MARY IN THE 2000, HOW CAN YOU TRUST THEM), only to come to the year 2022 of our lord, with evangelicals and neopentecostal and megachurches on the rise, the drug traffic and the churches working together and stuff, and I decide to sit down with a collegue that is breaking free of his church to talk about cultural differences between growing up catholic and growing up evangelical. He was explaining something to me and I was so confused, so, so confused. Then something dawned on me. "WHERE'S the free will????? People don't get to MAKE A CHOICE?" and he was so confused. That's when he was introduced to the concept of free will and I was introduced to the concept of manifest destiny live in technicolor, and then there's the two of us having the biggest crisis of our life. "HOW can you follow this religion if everything is already decided? How can you believe in a God that makes you live in fear? How can you think that being afraid is love? That doing things to avoid punishment is better than doing things because you want to, out of the goodness of your heart? How can you live without recognizing that everyone is both good and bad, and goodness is a thing we choose? That sometimes you sin, because you're human and this is our nature, but everyone deserves another chance to change?". He only got angry and stormed off. And before this, I got really angry when they used Christians without including obviously christian religions like catholicism and kardecism (the two other biggest in my country), but after that I'm like. Yeah. If being Christian is whatever you guys got going, catholics are definitely not it. Of course the catholic church has a fuckton of crimes and IS terrible, there's extemists and stuff (I don't even go anymore, fuck them), but like, I can't imagine what it does to someone's brain to grow up in so much fear. In my family, we joke that the evangelical churches seem to love more the Devil and Hell than God and Heaven, because they only speak of them. The first time I heard hell in a mass I was almost thirty and EVERYONE was so pissed at the priest for that sermon that he ended up being removed from the parish.

Anyway, we may not be rich or chosen or anything like that, we have our faults, but at least we care for each other, and in the end that's what matters. And as a country that was marjorly catholic, our constitution follows this principles - to the point that it's way more advanced and offers way more protection to minorities than what the society today would like. Our problem now is that the evangelicals are on the rise, and with them the ideas of exceptionalism and that you should not help the poor and these ridiculous stuff and they prey this same poor and vulnerable people, while throwing rocks at priests that feed and treat the homeless. This is not a metaphor, they are actually trying to outlaw giving food to homeless people, mostly because of one priest that does this in a huge city (with the help of the nearby mosque, I must add!).

Anyway, I got derailed, but what I want to say is that even if you are aware of the consequences of Calvin and his thoughts, sometimes you can't grasp how deep this influence goes and the implications until you see a change. I can say for myself that I never realised who deeply catholicism influenced the laws and the way people behave in my country until it began changing. In the end, growing up in a religion gives you a set a core beliefs about the world that shapes everything around it. The major religion (or lack of!) of a country has huge influence in about every single thing.

Me, starting a video that says it's going to explain how Victorian poorhouses fucked up the concept of charity forever: ok, show me what you've got

Video: it starts with the ideas of the Christian philosopher --

Me: DON'T SAY IT DON'T FUCKING SAY IT

Video: -- John Calvin

Me:

[call-me-rucy]

Professor Layton spoilers are illegal

Great! Now I have your attention. It wasn't a lie though.

TL;DR: Level-5 legal document says they will take down videos that show just the cutscenes of the games and videos edited with the purpose of listening to the games' music, among other legal measures.

The official Professor Layton twitter account published this tweet: https://x.com/L5_layton/status/1872196972142366916

It links to something called "guideline". I thought "Hey, finally, a rundown of all the games so new people know when to watch ED and..." It wasn't that. At all.

It is a legal document detailing what images and videos of the Layton series can be posted online without risking Level-5 breathing on our necks. Anyone else feeling like L-5 got a lawyer recently?

To be fair, it is extremely unlikely that they will come check Tumblr of all places for copyright infringement content but Im assuming that you all have lives outside of Tumblr, like in YouTube, Twitch, Twitter, Instagram or TikTok, and those places they will check.

So, here is what I understood from the rules:

Rule 0: These all apply to CV, DB/PB, UF/LF, LS/SC, MM, AL, LBMR, LMJ and PLvsPW:AA; all versions, including the trilogy on mobile and LMJ for switch and MM+. It does not apply to NWOS, which will have different rules explained later.

Rule 1: You can totally upload gameplay and still images from gameplay to social media, but if it's not directly captured from the console using console software they ask* that it has running commentary over, or opinions (basically something that makes it clear you're a fan and it's not an official video).

*This "ask" sounds like "we're not going to legally persecute you but please do us a solid".

Rule 2: Please put spoilers warnings before videos.

Rule 2.5: Don't post videos of the credits songs nor the first voice acting of LMJ. (The anime voice acting is fine).

Rule 3: It is prohibited to post videos that are just the animation scenes or videos and images that are just puzzles and solutions. If it's in gameplay it's fine, but the editing scenes together is not allowed.

Rule 4: Don't post videos or images to pages that you have to pay to enter. However youtube monetizing and similars are allowed.

Rule 5: If you post to a video sharing site you have to include a copyright notice like ©2007 LEVEL-5 Inc. The format depends on the game, look up the chart.

Rule 6: Third party rights are your problem.

Rule 7: Don't post anything that may make people think you are part of Level-5.

Forbidden things:

Anything that is ilegal

Anything that violates third party rights

Anything discriminatory

Anything that harms the image of L-5

Anything with cheats/glitches

Using the videos or still images to sell stuff (commercial purposes)

Editing movie scenes, audio, puzzles, or music from this series for the primary purpose of listening to them!!!

Using the images/videos for religious/political stuff.

And the kicker:

We may take measures such as deleting or suspending the distribution of videos, still images, etc. from this series that we determine to be in violation of these guidelines.

So yeah. Take care my friends! Enjoy the cutscenes and music compilations while they last and maybe don't look into Youtube downloaders.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Like Ships in the Night…On a Train… (BSD version part 1)

Author's Note: Got horny. Thought about one of my favorite scenarios. Bon appetit 👍 Other installments are already in the works for different series. :3

Pairings: Sigma, Dazai, & Chuuya x male reader (separately)

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!characters, trans Sigma, chikan, grinding, groping, fingering (Sigma), nipple play (Chuuya)

Sigma

Why is this happening to him?! He's read the news headlines about creeps groping people on trains, sure, but he never imagined he'd be on the receiving end of that!

Sigma feels helpless as the mystery man hooks one arm around his waist, locking him in this position like a caged bird. Soon, he feels a touch on his hip, sliding down to his plush thighs as he's groped right here and now — standing in front of the train wall with his hands bracing himself against it.

Panic floods in as the stranger grabs his crotch, rubbing two fingers over his slit — you both realize something in this moment; Sigma realizes that his secret may not be safe anymore, and the dangers that come with that, while you realize that you can touch this guy more discreetly like this.

Your fingers make quick work of his pants, opening them up just enough to reach inside and touch his pussy again. Despite the fact that your victim is shaking, he's already a bit wet before you're even inside. You tease him over his underwear for a second, then dive even deeper and finally touch his bare pussy.

With all of his remaining willpower, Sigma whispers a quiet plea for you to stop, and you can practically hear the tears welling in his eyes. You ignore him, of course, already sinking between his folds and groaning at the wetness oozing out just from that.

A stranger is fingering his cunt on public transit, and no one else seems to notice. Sigma can only pray that you stop before things escalate, or before you realize he's a trans man…maybe his long hair fooled you into thinking he's a girl?

That line of thought is shattered as Sigma presses his thighs together, biting back a squeal as you fingerfuck him so rough that he squirts a little, messing up his clothes as a result. As he cums, you lean closer to his ear and whisper a “Good boy~” before you readjust his clothing for him and disappear, presumably exiting the train.

You left the man as a panting, confused mess in his little corner. Left to wonder who violated him in an almost gentle way, compared to all of the horror stories Sigma read about. His pussy was still wet, and he swears that he didn't enjoy that…but the memory won't stop replaying in his mind as he lay in bed, squeezing his thighs together once again…dripping…aching…moaning…

Dazai

How bold do you have to be to think you could get away with this? Honestly, don't you recognize the man that you're attempting to grope? Do you really think there won't be consequences?

Well, ok, hear him out… You're not being rough right now — if anything, you're actually touching Dazai rather gently. Hands caress his sides, hidden by his large trench coat, sliding across his clothed abdomen almost romantically. The most you've done so far is rub his hips, not even trying to go for anything more private (yet).

What's the harm in letting this go on, seeing just where this will lead? Dazai's pretty strong, not a big muscle man, but strong enough to hold his own when need be. If things escalate too much, or he feels unsafe, he can simply reveal who he is and threaten to call the cops on you. But for now, he'll just let this play out.

You take a step closer, pushing Dazai further against the window, and he seizes the opportunity to reveal your identity in the reflection…except your face is buried in the back of his neck so he can't actually see who you are…

Dazai feels your warm breath tickling his skin, and he can feel you… wait, are you sniffing him? Really? What a creep, smelling some stranger while you're touching him. Jeez.

That's not the only thing Dazai notices though — he also feels what he assumes to be your hard-on poking his ass now that you're hugging his body tightly. You begin to move, and this is when Dazai should stop you…but he can't deny how…nice…this all feels. Especially when you reach forward and grab his hand, clasping his with yours in a strangely soft display–

Seriously, what a depraved, obsessive, sad creep you must be to hold a stranger's hand while you're smelling them and humping them on a public train. That's just not normal, dude.

There's not much more time to question anything, as you grind against Dazai's ass until your movements stutter, then eventually stop altogether. And he can guess by your heavy breathing that you just creamed your pants without ever truly touching your victim.

'How sad. That guy could easily get off by humping another guy on the train — who knows what dirty fantasies were running through his mind to make him cum like that.' Dazai thinks, stroking himself in the shower while he pictures your fat package gliding in between his cheeks again.

Chuuya

Honestly, Chuuya surprised himself when some strange man came up behind him and trapped him in the corner of the train and he didn't say a word of protest. Perhaps the shock was what prevented his usual reactions?

Shocked at how bold you were for grabbing a Port Mafia executive by the hips and forcing his ass to meet the tent in your pants, that is. Do you really think this is going to end well? Are you just so stupid that you have no idea who Chuuya is, and how easy it would be for him to use his special ability to pin you to the floor and knock your teeth out?

You're either stupid or desperate, or maybe both, but Chuuya can't think about that too much when you're already humping him so boldly. Sure, you're somewhat hidden in the corner, but does no one pay attention to the obvious motions?

Not only are you grinding against him so hard that he's forced to his tiptoes, you're untucking his shirt from his pants and sliding your hands underneath like it's totally normal! Quickly finding his nipples and toying with them so roughly that Chuuya has to cover his mouth to remain quiet.

His smaller body jerks with your every thrust, forced to submit to this gross act of depravity or else everyone on the train will find out that Chuuya Nakahara is a public use slut. His reputation would be destroyed!

So, he lets you have your way with him — thrusting your clothed erection against the curve of Chuuya's ass until you cum, grunting right into his ear — and then a familiar chime signals the opening of the train doors, and you exit, leaving the little guy high and dry and completely disheveled as his cock leaks inside of his boxers.

Now, a Port Mafia executive doesn't have any need to use public transport — he could easily use a private car or even a fucking helicopter if he wanted to — but, Chuuya finds himself taking the same train at the same time again tomorrow. This time, he's already standing in that corner, facing the wall to conceal his hard, throbbing cock, and to advertise himself as vulnerable prey.

[cvnntagious]

˗ˏˋ pornstar!chris films with someone new ‧₊˚

꒰part two ✩꒱ (coming soon)

creeping into chris' condo as quiet as possible with a wrapped gift in hand, a large smile took up most of your face at the thought of him opening it. though, the more you explored the area, the more discouraged you got before eventually giving up with a loud sigh at the realization that he wasn't home. but then, where was he? he always told you when he was going to be out, but today? he didn't even so much as leave you a text.

if not for chris updating you on his whereabouts becoming routine, you truthfully would've thought nothing of his sudden absence, but with a confused look on your face, you found yourself setting his christmas present on the coffee table in front of you to plop down onto his couch. you slipped your phone out of your back pocket, instantly typing away at it.

it was simple and straight to the point, leaving no room for confusion; you'd never been the type to beat around the bush. you weren't upset, really—more like confused, is all. and you waited. sitting idly on his couch as you waited for that little 'delivered' alert to turn into 'read'.

it didn't.

not for a while, at least. you ended up leaving his house only about half an hour after you sent the message, seeing no reason in just sitting there overthinking it. but you still did. going on about your day, trying to distract yourself from that nagging voice in the back of your brain that whispered 'where's chris at? what's he doing?' and 'you're not special. he got bored of you, silly,' at any moment you weren't occupying your mind with something else.

you knew you were probably overreacting; being dramatic in a way chris wouldn't like if he could hear your thoughts. i mean, it's not even like you'd be that upset if he had gotten tired of you. he was only some good dick and a person to keep you company... every single day for the past month. shit, you needed to know. picking up your phone in a swift motion as you now sat on your own couch, having tried to watch a show as means to keep your mind off chris, you checked your notifications in hopes that you'd missed his text.

but something new caught your eye.

a notification from chris' twitter, far different than anything you'd imagined throughout the day. of course you clicked it, a small breath of relief coming from you as you'd immediately told yourself he must've been busy with his executives. oh, he was busy alright.

your eyebrows raised at the sight before you: a short clip of chris plowing into some blonde with big tits, her moaning and whining in such a forced way. he was grabbing and squeezing at them. i mean, shit, he wasn’t even a boobs guy. it was so unlike him, completely disregarding his original intent for his content—keep it authentic. the caption only contained the hub link, telling his fans to watch the full video there.

dread sounds about right. a look of dread spread across your face, as if you'd just witnessed your worst fear. except it wasn't your worst fear. at least you didn't think it was, until now.

without thinking, you found yourself in chris' messages again, seeing the 'delivered' alert still there like a taunt. it was a slap in the face, really. not even the fact that he'd went and filmed with someone else, but the way he'd so clearly purposely failed to give you any type of warning.

once you'd sent the message, seeing the little text below your blue message change to 'read' instantly, it all suddenly felt pointless — all the worrying throughout the day, the dread you felt when you watched the short clip chris posted, the hurt when you saw he ignored your message, and now, even the message you literally just sent to him.

w/c : 645

a/n : i'm gonna try to bust these out the best i can, but y'all might have to bare w me cs i'm proly the worlds slowest writer... this may overlap with the au calendar as well, so to be clear, this isn't my priority. if i have to postpone parts of this to keep up with the prompts, i will. that being said, hope you guys enjoy my first multi-part tumblr fic <3.

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

[solxamber]

Pomefiore, 7, Comedy/Fluff

everytime i see a pomefiore request, an angel gains its wings

Always Watching || Rook Hunt

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "For you, anything" ; Genre: Comedy/Fluff

You slumped against the bed, your head drooping as you let out a pitiful groan. Rook sat beside you with a concerned expression, holding your hands gently in his own.

"Mon amour," he said, voice dripping with theatrical worry, "you look as though the very life has been drained from your enchanting form."

"That’s because it has," you muttered. "Crowley’s got me running around like his personal errand mule. I’m doing everything except polishing his tailcoat at this point. I’m so tired, Rook. I think my soul is trying to escape my body."

Rook's eyes narrowed, and a dangerous glint flickered behind the veneer of his charming smile. He tilted his head, his golden hair catching the dim light. "Ah, such a grave injustice cannot stand."

You sighed, too exhausted to argue. "Unless you’ve got some magic solution to deal with Crowley, I’m just gonna have to suffer until I keel over or he decides he’s bored of me."

Rook’s smile sharpened. "Leave everything to me, ma chérie. For you, anything."

You didn’t think much of it. Rook often said dramatic things, and you figured he was just trying to cheer you up. You kissed his cheek, thanked him, and promptly fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

The next day, Crowley summoned you to his office. Expecting another list of unreasonable tasks, you dragged yourself there, only to be greeted by something completely unexpected: a visibly nervous Crowley.

“Ah, prefect,” he said, wringing his hands. “Good news! I’ve decided there’s no need for you to handle all those tasks. I realized that as a benevolent and magnanimous headmaster, I may have been… overly reliant on you.”

You stared. “...Really?”

“Yes, yes,” he said quickly, waving his hand. “Go, enjoy your youth or whatever it is students do. No need to thank me. Now, off you go!” He ushered you out of his office, looking pale and slightly sweaty.

You blinked in confusion but decided not to question it. After all, a reprieve was a reprieve. And who were you to argue with divine intervention?

Later, you met up with Rook in the woods. You relayed the strange encounter with Crowley, still baffled. "It’s so weird. He looked… spooked, almost. But hey, I’m not complaining. It’s about time he stopped using me as his personal assistant."

Rook chuckled, his emerald eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ah, ma douce étoile, perhaps the universe has finally decided to grant you mercy."

You raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it, would you?"

He leaned in close, his cryptic smile widening. "Moi? I am but a humble admirer of beauty. How could I possibly influence the decisions of our esteemed headmaster?"

You squinted at him. "Rook—"

Before you could press further, he grabbed your hand and twirled you dramatically. "Come, my love! Let us revel in the splendor of the forest! The beauty of nature is calling, and I refuse to let you waste another moment thinking about mundane matters."

And just like that, you were whisked away into another one of Rook’s adventures. His enthusiasm was infectious, and soon you forgot all about Crowley’s odd behavior.

Unbeknownst to you, Crowley had indeed woken up the previous night to find an arrow lodged inches from his head, attached to a note written in elegant, looping script:

Mon cher directeur,

While I greatly admire your leadership, I must request that you cease overburdening the prefect. I have many talents, as you know, and it would be a shame for them to be used against you.

Always watching.

Crowley had nearly fainted. By morning, he’d resolved to do whatever it took to stay on Rook’s good side—even if it meant giving you the break you deserved.

And Rook? He kept his secret, because in his eyes, what mattered most was your happiness.

Masterlist

[beuxwhoyouare]

Escaping Holiday Responsibilities

You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and all the boys. And who can forget about singing Hanerot Halalu after lighting the menorah. There’s symbols and entities representing all of the holidays. But outside of the season we enjoy our peace and quiet. Sometimes though a season is so rough you can’t really blame an entity for wanting to get away.

I may or may not be Santa Claus. I’d say the best perk about the gig is that when the time comes you’re almost guided to your successor who then dons the classic look. So it’s a give and take. I mean having the power to fulfill lists of gifts you desire is great, but acquiring the look of a tubby bearded old man isn’t all that. The coolest thing though is you may not know it, but just because you don’t write a list doesn’t mean you don’t have holiday desires. I can still deliver gifts based on the list you make in your hearts. Cute as hell right? I’m basically a mind reader!

Before all this Claus business, I was unemployed and recently divorced when I received the call to step into the good ol boots. So a gig is a gig. I took it and ran, but that was like 30 years ago. So now once I retire I’m actually gonna look old and ragged.

So there I was last night delivering gifts at this random place in Chicago. Doing my best to stay quiet, delivering gifts as low key as possible when CRAAAAAACK! I stepped on a large glass ornament I somehow missed. I thought I was in the clear after no one came to check what happened and as I headed on my way out a baseball bat swung at my head.

I took the hit like a champ but when I turned around to see I saw a man standing there in black sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt with the bat ready to swing again.

“Ho ho hey hey wait. I’m literally Santa.” I whisper yelled while showing snowy crystals come out of my glove.

Right as he began to swing again I pulled more tricks out of my hat.

“I know your name is Russell O’Connor. You got a gunmetal tricycle as a 4 year old because you thought the red ones the store had were tacky and wanted to look tough!”

That’s when he stopped mid-swing.

“How-how did you know that pervert? Have you been watching me for years?”

I began to hear his inner list….a young man now in his mid-20s regretting his life decisions to get a girl knocked up as a teen? Interesting. He desires to get away from the so-called mess he made.

“I can offer you a way out of the mess you made. If that’s what your true hearts wish is this Christmas?!” I pleaded to not be beaten once again.

“How do you know what I want freak?”

“Bro I’m Santa, I know when you’ve been like bad or good and whatever. Listen do you want to get away from the mess you made or what?”

“Yes okay but like how are you going to do it? You’re not going to kill me or anything?”

“Honestly no one’s really ever wished for this so I gotta be able to do it somehow. That’s the Santa magic!”

“Okay let’s go for it. Do it! Get me out of here!”

I closed my eyes and rubbed my gloved hands together and then pulled them apart. As I pulled them apart a spark started forming but I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I tried to hold it steady but before I knew it, the spark grew too wild to control. The energy then turned white and exploded.

There was a ringing and we both yelled but then black.

When I woke up I found myself pushing up from a bed? That’s weird I don’t remember finishing all my deliveries. I reached up to scratch my beard but instead of my long luscious white beard a more close shaved beard grazed my hand. Wait where are my gloves? And my beard?

I looked down at the bed I didn’t recognize before looking back up to walk over to a nearby restroom with the night light on. The dim glow painted a picture I couldn’t believe. Surely I’m dreaming?

I fumbled around the foreign room before locating the light switch, only to have the bright lights confirm what I was seeing. I raised both arms and posed….

“No fucking way!?” The cursing surprised me, being a Claus the job prevents your mouth from ever even forming a curse word.

I’m Russell? But the Santa step down process just returns you to your normal self not swaps you with someone? How did this? Could my desires have matched with his conflicting my magics intent?

I lifted the shirt barely hiding anything of my new body I now resided in. Woah…I wasn’t much of a gym person in my former life but maybe there’s reason to be. I mean look at this beef? I reached my muscular hand up to my new proud chest and squeezed. Ahhh grazing my new nipple I revealed a new found sensitivity I never previously had. Looks like that’s going to be fun, I nearly salivated.

I can do adult things again and live a life again! No more having to spend months working to achieve someone else’s dreams. Or maybe I’ll fulfill other dirtiest dreams. I mean this body should go to work somehow.

I’m sure OnlyFans would love to see how thick I am everywhere. It’s time to be a family man settle down the right way and make a good living by selling the best gift I’ve ever given myself.

My new tool hardening nearly pulling down my sweatpants waistband itself. I grabbed it before taking a peak at my new equipment. Ohhhhh looks like I’ll still be delivering gifts to quite a few people in different ways with this beer can.

[akimiiyo]

-> COMFORT

⌗synopsis: how genshin men comfort you.

⌗characters: diluc, kaeya, albedo, zhongli, childe, baizhu, xiao, thoma, itto, ayato, heizou, wanderer, kazuha, tighnari, cyno, alhaitham, kaveh, neuvillette, lyney, dainsleif, dottore, pantalone, capitano, pierro.

⌗cw: gn!reader, not proofread, lowercase intended, ooc? not so sure.

he can tell something’s up with you with a single glance your way. he won’t waste time, he’ll ask you what’s on your mind and trust me when i say that lying won’t get you out of this situation. he won’t stop until he found the source of your unhappiness before pulling you in a tight hug. his hugs usually last a bit during these moments, between his hands running up and down your back and his sweet, whispered words to your ear. if your heart is particularly heavy, he’ll kiss your tears in such a delicate way just to tickle you and bring back a smile on your face. he’ll make sure you know he’s by your side and you won’t have to deal with things all on your own.

diluc, kaeya, zhongli, baizhu, kazuha, thoma, tighnari.

his first instinct is to cheer you up as soon as he starts noticing your mood. what would his world be without his darling’s smile? he’ll try to make some jokes and squeeze you into his arms a little more until he hears your lovely laugh once again before starting to ask you about your worries. sadly enough, his attempts fail to prevent you from breaking down in front of him, his heart aching at the sight of your tears. he wipes away your tears while encouraging you to talk before smothering your face with sweet kisses and reassuring you in the meantime. you best believe he won’t let you leave his side for the rest of the day, that’s just the kind of guy he is.

childe, itto, thoma, heizou, cyno, kaveh, lyney.

he doesn’t really pick up on your mood at the very beginning, but he slowly begins to notice a couple of things which results in him trying to figure out what could possibly be upsetting you. he feels a little embarrassed to go up to you and comfort you out of the blue, but he does anyways because it’s you. he might sit beside you and hold your hand or even hug you without saying much. he’ll let you decide wether to open up or not, but he lets you know that whatever your decision may be, he’ll be there. later that day you’ll find him preparing you a snack and a drink for you with the intentions of staying by your side in the coziness of your own home.

albedo, xiao, alhaitham, wanderer, neuvillette, dainsleif.

he can see your saddened eyes. there’s never a moment when he’s not looking of you, so how could he not notice? he’s quite the strong man and his partner isn’t less than him, so he’s sure you can deal with anything. that is not to say he wouldn’t help you, he just knows that whatever it is, if it was serious enough you’d know to look for him. once you do though, he’ll offer you whatever you need to help you feel better. a hug? reassurance? solutions? whatever it is that is troubling you, dear, you’ve come to the right person. and although he may seem a little distant to some, you know that this man would move mountains to ensure your happiness and he reminds you everyday.

ayato, dottore, pantalone, capitano, pierro.

⌗a/n; wow, i sure love posting with consistency! 😸 this was rushed, i hope you cant tell that much and that you still like it. i noticed that they werent posting a lot of dottore content recently, so i took matters into my own hands 😈 anyways, if there are any mistakes, plsss tell me!!!

want to see more? take a look at my masterlist!

©2024 akimiiyo. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way, shape or form.

[amaryllis-22]

Word count: 2.1k

Pairing: John Price × Reader

Infos: Pregnancy, afab reader, mild possessive behavior near the end, mature and slightly dark themes

Based on this idea

As a member of Task Force 141, you'd dedicated your whole life to your team, to the Crown, and to the protection of international security. Going from home to work and from work to home had become the normality you'd learnt to accept.

It was nothing too tragic, truly.

When you were on duty, you didn't have time to worry about your decadent social circle, and when you were off deployment, you could always hit a pub with one of the lads. None of them would ever turn down an opportunity for a little distraction. Hell, you'd even started spending more time in the barracks than in your flat, to the point where the landlord questioned whether you'd died in action and he merely hadn't been informed about it.

Everything had been fine until, well, it no longer was.

Shrouded in the silence of your one-room apartment on a grey autumn day, you'd wondered what would be left of you after you inevitably ceased to be useful to the military. You'd probably be discharged with a respectful handshake, a few medals, and a good amount of money to spend the rest of your life doing... what exactly? Rot in loneliness?

No, you couldn't stand it, not anymore at least.

Those same circumstances you had considered acceptable and fulfilling suddenly seemed not to be enough. Perhaps you could have borne it in your early years of service, when your sole concern was coming home in one piece and making sure your comrades did the same.

But at the moment you had other needs. You were aware of it.

You'd wandered for a while in the dark searching for something that could help you feel complete — a sort of homemade spiritual journey with more failures than successes and the revelation you were seeking at the end.

You wanted a baby, desperately.

You'd never thought about motherhood before, and yet it had only taken the slightest nudge to turn it into the entire centre of your attention. It was as if a switch had been flipped in your head, triggering that innate and basic instinct to bring another creature into this world.

Shit, you had nothing ready to welcome your little angel.

The house you lived in was too small and in a part of town not ideal for easy access to schools.

Not to mention your job.

You clearly had to take a leave of absence. No matter how accustomed you were to injury, you wouldn't have tolerated the slightest chance of jeopardising your pregnancy.

You absolutely had to notify the higher-ups, or things were bound to get ugly. Money wasn't an issue with all you had saved, but it was possibly worth looking for a part-time job to support yourself in the meantime. All in all, it was better to be safe than sorry

Maybe, just maybe, you were moving things a smidge too fast. No, starting to buy baby clothes and toys was not a good idea because in your euphoric frenzy you'd forgotten a rather important detail.

You weren't in a relationship.

Now, that could have been a problem.

Your lifestyle wasn't helpful in keeping anything steady in the romance department. You could go on a mission and disappear for the next few weeks, if not months. You'd tried in the past (albeit, you must admit, with not too much effort), but balancing your various obligations had proved so stressful that you'd proudly declared yourself out of the market. Your new-found desire to start a family, though, would have forced you to return.

As resourceful as you may have been, it was going to be difficult to conceive a baby without a man to, you know, knock you up.

At that point, instead of getting on some dating app or throwing yourself into a classic blind date like a normal person, what had you done? Obviously, you'd gone to your captain, the man who had saved your life more times than you could have counted, dropping the bombshell he wouldn't have expected.

⎯⎯⎯ 「 𖤓 」⎯⎯⎯

"I want a baby," you announced the minute you entered his office, barely giving the door time to close behind you before you placed yourself in front of his desk. John's hand, which had been working on paperwork, froze in its movement, and his sterling blue eyes lifted to give you his full attention.

"Pardon?" His voice came out gruff and deep, words slipping out in a rush, as if his mind was not quite ready to digest what you had told him.

"I want a baby, Cap," you repeated unperturbed, shoulders squared, legs slightly apart, and back straight as a board. You were almost as confident in your stance as you were in your conviction.

Price's eyebrows furrowed, lips curled into a grimace that bordered on mockery. "Yeah... I heard that."

He hesitated, absentmindedly drumming his fingers on the wooden surface of the desk. "I was just wonderin' why you felt the need to share the ... news with me."

The man struggled to follow on which train of thought your brain had derailed.

What was this nonsense?

As far as he knew, you weren't in a relationship and didn't seem interested in one. At least, that was the reply you had given Soap when the Scot had pointed out your dry romantic situation.

Going from 0 to 100 wasn't anything foreign for you; he had learnt to deal with it, but this... was excessive even by your standards.

Had you met some bloke who had made you fall at his feet with honeyed words and pretty promises? No, you wouldn't have been fooled by it. Not his soldier. You were too mature for that shit, but John couldn't help the feeling of jealousy growing in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm telling you this because..." Your statement was enough to snap him out of the tunnel vision his stubborn self had coerced itself into; "...I need your help, to get one I mean."

The silence that spread through the office following your declaration was suffocating. You had mentally prepared for every possible reaction from him, yet seeing it actually happen was in no way comparable.

It wasn't the first time you had stood under Price's intense glare, not with how your relationship was set up. As much as he was your superior, you hadn't failed to make your opinion heard if something didn't sit well with you. You had never come close to insubordination, never really questioned his authority, but you certainly hadn't simply responded with a mere "aye, Cap'n" and carried on with your day.

It was an odd partnership, but it worked for both of you.

If John had to be honest, he viewed it as refreshing and somewhat fascinating. He was aware of how deep your loyalty ran — you'd have followed him down to hell if it had been necessary — so he could overlook your more colourful comments. Still, that didn't mean that he would spare you any of his warning stares.

He wasn't sure if you were playing a nasty prank on him. It wasn't like you, not about such personal matters anyway.

You probably weren't, if the determination and sheer earnestness flashing in your eyes could serve as an indication. That, though, led him to another, bigger problem: seriously consider what you were asking of him.

To state that, after all the years you had spent working shoulder to shoulder, Price had never thought of moving things to another level with you would have been a lie. He clearly found you attractive, and the chemistry between you two was undeniable. But hell, you worked so well in his team that he didn't feel like fucking it up simply for some of his urges.

Blurring the lines between work and love life could prove to be a minefield, a dangerous territory where it was difficult to venture.

You, however? Seemed more than willing to dive in like a suicidal maniac.

"You sure are somethin'." He exhaled, with a hint of exasperation. He was way past the age to keep up with you; that much was clear.

John hadn't even entertained the idea that you might see him as more than a trusted friend (he refused to believe that your relationship was purely professional), and now you were begging him to impregnate you? A whiplash wouldn't hold a candle to what this whole affair had become.

He would have wanted to plant his hands on your shoulders and shake some sense into you, to bombard you with questions about how you came up with such a plan, to remind you, in a perhaps overly patronising way, that this was not a decision you could take lightly: it was one that would change your future in the long run, one that you appeared to be handling far too casually.

His tired and burdened body rose from the chair in all its might, strong legs leading him directly in front of you. You owed a lot of explanations to your Captain, who had no intention of letting the matter go without first securing the info he was seeking.

"Why are you proposin' this to me?"

There was no malice or accusation in that, only a curiosity that bordered nearly on morbid. John felt shameful in that moment. Of all the vastly more important issues he could have raised, that was the only one his mind had focused on.

In a twisted manner, you had chosen him.

The knowledge that you'd handpicked him of all people to 'help' you was enough to rub his ego in all the right places, but he needed to know why.

Did you realise who you were offering this to? The consequences that would have followed?

His gaze never left your face, refusing to miss any possible change in your mannerisms. He made you feel like a rare species under a microscope, as if you couldn't hide anything from him, not when he had already scoured the innermost depths of your being in search of answers.

"You're the first one I thought of," you mentioned, finding it almost difficult to get the words out. Your limbs had suddenly become tense, making your posture stiffer than it should be. "Besides, I couldn't trust anyone but you with this."

John regarded himself as a stable person, capable of maintaining a cool and detached mind even in the most absurd and stressful scenarios. Yet in that moment, you had really managed to catch him off guard.

For fuck's sake, he had enough.

Did you want his cock to bully your pussy so badly, to fill it with cum again and again until there was no doubt left about the life he had planted in your womb?

He wasn't going to stop you.

Noticing his impassive expression, you hastened to assure him that, should he accept, you would ask nothing in return: no support for the baby, no parental responsibility, and no emotional attachment.

At that he merely snorted, shaking his head as if trying to chase away an annoying bug.

If you thought he would leave both of you, you and YOUR child, you obviously had still not fully understood the kind of man he was.

John could already imagine it.

A small cottage surrounded by nature, his beautiful wife waiting for him at the door, open arms and sweet smile, the laughter of children in the distance, and a warmth to finally caress his tough skin.

He wouldn't have let you resume your military career after; it would have been too dangerous and pointless.

Not that you had to know.

You would have so much to think about that you wouldn't even notice it. Your little angels would need the steady presence of a mother, and you certainly wouldn't be the one to deprive them of that, would you?

Don't worry; he would take care of it, putting his life on the line for the safety of your little family.

Family.

He had struggled to believe he could ever have one of his own, and now you were offering it to him on a silver platter. How lucky.

"Alright." His calloused hand rose to meet your cheek, thick thumb being passed over the soft pad of your lower lip. His face lowered enough to be exactly before yours. "I'll help you, just... don't come cryin' later for bitin' off more than you could chew."

Tag list: @nova-willow-541

✎There will definitely be a part two in the future.

[yurinaa-world]

Hi! Could you make an artist reader? Basically a painter who draws his partner or cats, etc?

With the characters Aventurine, Sampo, Moze, Dan Heng (I'm using this with a translator so I don't know if it's spelled correctly...)

2#"𝓓𝓻𝓪𝔀 𝓶𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓱 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓼"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Aventurine, Sampo, & Moze x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader who's an artist

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling mistakes

💫Dan Heng's part is here: 💫

💫𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐼𝒫𝒞 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝐼𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉"

“Not bad, not bad at all. You really know what catches my good side.”

It was supposed to be a gift painting of him, your delicate, nimble fingers first sketched it out before picking out colours and finally taking a brush and painting over the canvas sketch with extreme eye for detail.

He always loved to barge in whenever he felt like it, but now it is a very bad moment! He saw it when you were almost finished! Seriously, you wanted to surprise him so badly. You whirl around cheeks already flushed from the intensity of your concentration, now burning hotter with embarrassment. 

"Y-you weren’t supposed to see it yet!" you stammer, instinctively moving to shield the canvas with your arms, though it's far too late. He smirks, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed. 

"Oh, come on. You can't blame me for being curious. I mean, you’ve been holed up in here for days, looking all suspicious."

He goes silent for a bit, staring at the painting for a while…

He's sort of left completely speechless by you.

“Wow, what detail. How about I put this up in my office.” he grinned, while you completely protested the idea because you weren’t finished 

“No way! It’s not finished.”

💫𝒮𝒶𝓂𝓅𝑜 𝒦𝑜𝓈𝓀𝒾 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇-𝒯𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓊𝑒𝒹 𝒮𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓃"

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He whined and cried till his throat went dry, but even then that wouldn’t stop his extremely annoying cries. All while you listen and skim through your supplies, nit-picking at what you need all while your canvas is stood in front of a Sampo who’s tied to the chair. 

“Dear Sampo just wanted to make some profits, and those paintings have been there for years, I was just doing you a favour!”

You only sigh at his words. You don’t like to sell your painting, especially with a vendor like Sampo of all people. It may have been ancient yet you didn’t want to get rid of it.

the idea that it may be hanging on a wall in some random place, bought by Sampo’s tricks at a higher price, gave you an unpleasant feeling in your mouth. “You are something, you know,” you whispered, taking a palette knife and twirling it around in your fingers. Not for a show of power—even if you’d like Sampo to see it that way—but because it helped your mind stay focused.

At an exaggerated rate, Sampo shrank back while his chair was making a squeaky noise, signifying his discomfort. “I mean, come on, be realistic, let’s think logically about it! I’m only the middleman in the process here, attempting to make your raw talent the new trend!” 

“You’re right, so in turn for your service I decided to give you something to sell as well.” you smile with joy, as you sit down on the chair in front of my canvas, which makes him sweat dearly on what you’re about to do. 

You lean back, tilting your head as if to get a better view of your subject. “You’d make a... striking muse, don’t you think?” Sampo’s cheeks flush a deep red. “Striking? I—I mean, I am a good-looking guy, but—wait a second! What kind of striking are we talking about here?” 

“You're right, someone would like a painting of a guy like you, I wonder in what position though,” you mutter that last part but you know he heard “Your beauty will sell for millions just like you wanted.”

💫𝑀𝑜𝓏𝑒 “𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔”

“Moze.”

One call of his name and he’ll be landing at your feet to see what you need him to do. Appearing behind you, his hands gently landing on your shoulders—still scaring you to death, before whispering “You called” under his breath, yet loud enough for you to hear.

Immediately turning around and clasping your hands with his, along with a giant smile on your face. “Moze! Could you be my subject!”

He (easily) caved and became what you needed him to be most, your subject in your painting. He’s so awkward when posing! You had to personally move him around a couple of times since he’s made all of the poses you put him in awkward somehow.

Which leaves you to have your hand on your chin, staring at him with a precise gaze, that is the same as his, yet, yours was made to find beauty in hopeless things.

 “Hah…how should I pose you.”

Taking his one hand in yours while your other hand goes to his hood, you gently pull it down, revealing his slightly messy hair. “You hide so much behind this,” you say softly, smoothing a few strands away from his face. 

“I think… maybe something natural,” you mumble, tilting your head to examine him from another angle. You guide him to sit on the chair near the window, where the soft light filters through the curtains. “Lean back, like this,” you murmur, adjusting his shoulders to relax against the chair. “And look out the window… like you’re lost in thought.”

Moze does as you say, his hands gripping the edge of the chair a little too tightly. You shake your head with a small laugh and pry his fingers loose, placing one hand on his lap and letting the other dangle over the side of the chair. “There. Try to look more relaxed.”

He’s honestly trying the best he can, his shoulders less tense and face less serious—even though that’s basically all he knows to do. “Thank you.” You smile gently at him before pecking him on the lips as a thank you, before finally starting at your sketch.

He can’t forget your pretty smile. He helped you. He wishes he had his hood on now.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[delusion-is-back]

*slams fist on the table* you know what I want? I want a fic of Jayce and Vi in a lavender marriage

I want a story where Jayce Talis, young and successful bachelor of Piltover starts getting marriage proposals from some of the more powerful families in Piltover, all of them with the clear intent of getting their grubby hands on Hextech as it's being developed. And Jayce, not knowing how to tell those vulture to fuck off decides the best course of action is to fake already being married to someone he knows won't screw him over.

His first choice is Cait, she's the single daughter of the Kiramman house, she would be a perfect match except for the fact that she's like his little sister, just the thought of suggesting a marriage to his openly lesbian little sister makes him want to barf, he can't ask her that. Plus he doesn't fully trust Cassandra not to take advantage of their fake marriage when it comes to hextech and he would rather not risk it.

She other obvious option would be Mel, another member of the council they would make the best power couple in Piltover but again, it doesn't feel right to ask that of her, Jayce knows that Mel would understand his predicament and help him but it would be serving Hextech in a silver platter to Ambessa if she got wind of her daughter marring the Man of Progress.

The list of women he would ask this is very short, while all of this is going on Jayce realizes he really needs to make more friends.

Jinx is not an option, not even a consideration she would kill him for even asking and he would rather take his chances with the vultures than with her.

That only leaves one, the one person he really, really didn't want to ask but realistically was his better shot at.

Vi would laugh at him for two solid minutes until she realizes he's being serious, followed by Vi trying to carefully reject him because "You're a cool guy Jayce, but you're really not my type" which Jayce would sulk on later but for now he really needs Vi to agree to help him with this before he loses his mind.

It takes a lot of begging and a lot of yapping, a lot of appealing to Vi's good heart and the danger of Hextech falling into the wrong hands before she starts to listen. Vi doesn't understand why Jayce can't just tell them to fuck off but that's rich people's problems she doesn't really wanna know about. Until she finally, reluctantly, agrees to do him this one solid because in all fairness she took his gauntlets and never gave them back.

And so Jayce makes a public announcement to the investors who kept bugging him with marriage proposals to, respectfully, fuck off because the man of progress already has a wife. Now that's out of the way, another problem surges because Jayce Talis is not very good at evaluating the consequences of action, because now the council and the people of piltover want to meet Mrs. Talis.

Stuffing Vi in a formal dress is no easy task, for one because none of Cait's really fit her, and those that do are a little too long and Vi already stated that she's not wearing heels, she can handle a dress but those ankle snapping heels are off the table, it's her regular shoes hidden under a long skirt dress or nothing.

Taking Vi to a formal event felt like dragging a bull into a china shop and locking the door, Jayce's behind didn't unclench for the entire night as he shuttled her around the uppercrust of piltover, they'd made up some bullshit story about Vi's past since being a former inmate of stillwater was not a very compelling story. If any members of the council recognized Violet they didn't say anything.

Now you may be wondering where is Viktor in all of this? Wouldn't he have something to say about it? Well he's just enjoying the shitshow from the sidelines, because Jayce Talis forgot one crucial thing about the whole thing; there's no such thing as homophobia in Ruterra, and if the issue was Jayce finding a spouse quick Viktor would've been more than willing to play along for the sake of protecting Hextech, but before he could even suggest it Jayce was already digging his own grave and it was way to entertaining for Viktor not to sit back and watch it all go down. He would tell Jayce how dumb his plan was another day and watch the realization hit him, but for now he's just having a good time watching Jayce Talis trying to handle the toughest pink haired lesbian of all of Zaun.

[starlightsigner]

Iced Avocado AU

coffee shop/alternate ending to Sonic 3 (movie spoilers) Shadow will find Sonic coffee in every universe <3

Two years after the end of movie 3 Shadow comes to Green Hills to fulfill Eggman's dying wish, deliver a message to Stone, who took up running the Mean Bean again

With no real plan or place to go after the message is delivered, Stone adopts offers Shadow a place and a job until he decides what he'd like to do next with his life

Taking him up on his offer, Shadow becomes Green Hills' newest barista

News travels fast in a small town and it doesn't take long for the Wachowski's to hear about who just moved into town

At first Sonic is just glad to know Shadow is alive, but he knows they could be friends if Shadow could just learn to chill and act his age -50 years

Shadow just knows that Maria loved life. She talked about the good in people and the joy of living. He hadn't seen much of it yet, and he didn't think he was going to see much of it in this small town, but his stay is just temporary. It doesn't matter that the people here aren't afraid of him, that the doctor's lovesick assistant treats him well, or that he's free to come and go and just BE as he pleases. He'll be gone sooner rather than later

If anything Shadow is starting to think that the longer he stays in Green Hills the worse off he may be. He thought Sonic's dad had forgiven him for the mistaken identity thing, but the more he hangs around the Wachowski home he cant help but feel his spines stand on end a bit when it's just the two of them. Not only that, but he's beginning to think this fresh mountain air is having negative side effects on him, why else would his heart start skipping beats whenever he sees streaks of blue?

Prologue

As the reactor core rapidly destabilizes Eggman knows he's out of time to tell the one person in the world who ever cared about him what his companionship meant to him, but as he prepares to go live he realizes the signal is to scrambled to even send out an audio file

Refusing to let his last words go unheard, he gives the file to Shadow, mumbling about how as improbable Shadow's survival would be he's come to realize how annoyingly resilient hedgehogs seem to be

After watching the Eclipse Cannon explode out of range of Earth's atmosphere, Stone sits in the streets of London, looking at another situation that no person could possibly survive. The last time he knew for sure the doctor would come back, this time he refused to acknowledge the part of himself that wasn't so sure.

What he did know for certain is that even though he'd been fired, he hadn't been cloned yet, and as long as he was Doctor Robotnik's assistant he would be sure that there would be an evil lair and a latte waiting for him when he returned

Meanwhile in an unknown corner of the world, Shadow pulls himself out of an impact crater, taking a moment to finally breathe before tracking down a man he barley knows on a planet that even 50 years later he knows even less

Two years later Stone's life is the closest to normal its been since before he joined Gun. Not everyone trusts him and most people still call him the 'weird bean guy' but that doesn't stop any of them from coming in daily or making the Mean Bean the top rated coffee shop on Yelp this side of Montana. It's only a matter of time before Cuppa Heaven falls to the Mean Bean's superiority, then the whole state will be his

While cleaning behind the counter after closing the locked front door rattles as someone tries to force it open. Stone calls out that they're closed and they can come back in the morning (he's got a date with a telenovela). The rattling stops and he goes back to cleaning his equipment

The cup that he was holding falls to the ground with a clang that's completely drowned out by Stone's shriek as a hooded figure teleports beside him

Before Stone can react Shadow removes his hood, complaining about how long his ears will be hurting from that

At first Stone is excited, if Shadow survived then surely the doctor could have as well! Finally a sign that he could be alright

But alas, not everyone can come back like in a soap opera

After receiving the doctor’s message Stone walks over to a table and pulls out a chair, absentmindedly also pulling one out for his guest

He starts musing about how the Mean Bean is where he set up operations to wait for the doctor to return after his last ‘hedgehog induced sabbatical’ so it felt fitting for him to come back here to wait out this one

Shadow asks what he means by wait it out, the doctor is dead. Stone just chuckles and slowly shakes his head, telling Shadow he'd be surprised to hear all of the impossible things the doctor had lived through, this was just the latest

Shadow eventually takes the empty chair next to Stone. He knows that the doctor is dead, he’s sure that Stone knows this even if he wont admit it, but he also can’t help but envy him. The doctor didn’t die right in front of him, he didn’t see the body. Even if the odds are a million to one, there’s a single drop of hope in an ocean of despair, and Stone has refused to let it be swallowed by the sea. As long as there’s a chance of ‘what if’

After a time Stone thanks Shadow for bringing the message to him and gets up to make him a latte as thanks, Shadow lets him know he'd prefer it black

As he works on the coffee he asks Shadow what he's been up to the past two years, about all it boiled down to was him looking for Stone. With no leads, little knowledge about Earth, and a need to stay out of sight, things went far slower then he was happy with

Well, what are you gona do now?

What indeed. Eventually Shadow looks down at his hands and admits that he doesn’t know. He had been so driven by revenge and then by the need to fulfill Eggman's last request (almost as if it were the start of some sort of penitence) that he never really took the time to figure that out. Without a goal, he’s found himself bereft of purpose

Stone stops to take a good look at the lost kid sitting across from him, maybe the doctor had sent him more than just a message

He offers Shadow a job at the Mean Bean, saying that Green Hills is a nice enough town and that while he’s more than able to run the place on his own it can get busy, humble brag but he had the best Yelp reviews for miles for a reason. + maybe a delivery service is what he needs to get the edge over Cuppa Heaven

He tells Shadow that he can think on it if he wants and he's free to hang around until he makes up his mind

Shadow scoffs at him, he's been fine on his own he doesn't need anyone's pity

Stone hands over the coffee before picking up the forgotten cup on the floor, cleaning it again. He tells shadow it's not pity, just an offer from one former coworker to another. A temporary arrangement that could benefit them both while Shadow takes whatever time he needs to decide what his next step will be

Shadow stares into his coffee for a time, Stone cant tell if he's looking for life's answers or if it owes him money

Eventually Shadow drinks and looks to Stone with conviction, agreeing to his proposal. He vows to do his best to serve this place that is to be his temporary home and master the ‘art of the mean bean’

Stone laughs at how serious he is as he puts everything away. He says that they’re gona have to work on getting Shadow to loosen up a bit if he’s gona serve customers

Shadow tenses at that. Asking Stone what he means, surely he can’t suggest that Shadow will be interacting with humans

Stone points out that that’s kind of a big part of being a barista, is that a problem?

Looking to the side trying not to appear apprehensive (boy needs acting lessons), Shadow brings up the fact that he’s very clearly a 'dangerous alien' won’t the people be frightened of him?

It clicks for Stone what he means and he smiles, walking over to Shadow and placing a hand on his shoulder, motioning with his head for him to follow

He tells Shadow not to worry about that, Green Hills is the one place on Earth where a new alien hedgehog will only be the talk of the town for a week or so before the next farmers market drama takes over as peak gossip

After a beat Shadow registers exactly what Stone just said “wait, what do you mean a NEW alien hedgehog?!”

Grinning as he walks away, Stone activates the Mean Bean’s ‘back room’ walking forward while saying that they’ll do a quick tour of the lair and get Shadow settled in

Stone thinks to himself that instead of ending the day with eating his feelings away with a tub of ice cream while watching soap operas, it might be nicer to watch Gabriella's long lost niece backstab (possibly literally if the preview was right) Juan with a new friend. He should make guac. Celebration guac.

Staring

Shadow, the ultimate barista

(no first name given) Stone, a man who is unprepared to be a single father to a Hot Topic wannabe

Sonic, guy who's cool until he starts trying to flirt (or the guy who would be on every sports team if he went to school)

Miles 'Tails' Prower, the youngest fox to illegally attend MIT online

Knuckles, volunteer youth camp counselor

Tom Wachowski, promised he wasn't going to intimidate his son's new boyfriend (he lied, but he's only about 40% successful anyway)

Maddie Wachowski, mom of the year 5 years running

[the-cosmic-cauldron]

𝒫𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝒜 𝒫𝒾𝓁ℯ：𝒲𝒽𝓎 𝒴ℴ𝓊’𝓇ℯ 𝒮𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓁ℯ 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒲𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝒴ℴ𝓊’𝓁𝓁 𝒢ℯ𝓉 𝒜 ℬℴℴ

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

Pile number one, I see that the reason you’re single right now is because you’re avoiding love. You feel that love will disrupt your life, shake things up, and distract you from what you’re doing right now. You may fear that it will cause confusion or force you to revisit old wounds and trauma that you’re not ready to face. Some of you may even have someone who likes you or has a crush on you, but you’re keeping things surface-level, not allowing the relationship to deepen. You’re avoiding intimacy and shying away from getting too close to anyone. There’s a lot of fear surrounding love—you’re scared of falling in love, committing, and even the thought of marriage. It feels like a “hot plate” you don’t want to touch.

You’re overthinking the idea of love, trying to plan it out like you would a career or project, but love isn’t something that can be planned. You’re being too analytical and fearful, staying in your shell and not letting yourself open up. Many of you are repressing emotions, keeping them hidden beneath the surface. You don’t want anyone to see what you’re going through, and you’re afraid that love will bring those emotions to the surface in a way you’re not ready to confront.

Some of you may even be hiding aspects of yourself—perhaps you’re part of the LGBTQ+ community and fear your family or friends won’t accept you, so you’re repressing your sexuality. Others might have had a secret relationship or affair in the past that you don’t want to come to light. You’re keeping things quiet and laying low, avoiding anything that might bring attention to your romantic life.

It seems many of you have gone through a difficult period and feel it’s hard to meet new people. Some of you may be sick, bedridden, or dealing with a disability. There may also be mental health challenges or social anxieties that make it difficult to engage with others. Perhaps you’ve recently been heartbroken and feel like you need time to heal. You might be in a “healing girl” or “healing boy” era, taking things slow and focusing on yourself.

A lot of you are struggling to let go of past issues. It seems like you’re still stuck on an ex, unable to move on or take the risk of meeting someone new. You may not want to compromise, feeling like you want things your way, on your own time. You’re not ready to bend for someone else’s demands or expectations.

You’re dealing with a lot of responsibilities and stress right now. Some of you are single because you’re focused on your children and have no time for love. Others might be working long hours, earning money but burning yourselves out. You might be overwhelmed with schoolwork or taking care of someone who’s sick. Many of you feel like you’re just surviving day to day, and love takes a backseat to all these other demands.

Some of you might be using unhealthy coping mechanisms like drinking, indulging in drugs, or binge-watching shows to soothe yourselves. Some are eating out a lot, treating yourselves to good food, while others might be losing weight due to stress. You’re keeping yourself busy with these distractions to avoid confronting the deeper emotional issues.

Right now, you’re energetically repelling others and keeping yourself away from potential connections. You have a lot going on beneath the surface, and you’re choosing to focus inward, avoiding love and intimacy for the time being. You’re in a very avoidant phase, but it’s clear you have some healing and self-reflection to do before you’re ready for a committed relationship.

I see that for a good amount of time, you’re going to remain single. There will be a period of stagnancy, where things feel stuck in the same routine. You won’t be meeting new people or connecting with them on a deeper level. I would say this period of being single and in this stagnant phase could last for about a year, with some of you possibly experiencing it for even longer. The minimum time I see for this phase is about a year, during which you’ll find yourself stuck in an unchanging, predictable, yet unhealthy dynamic.

However, after this period, I see someone coming into your life very quickly. This person is going to pursue you with intensity, and the connection will develop fast. They really want you, and you’ll likely want them just as much. The commitment between you two will form quickly. I see this person having many qualities you desire, and they will be someone you get very close to. They will take the time to truly pursue you, and as you both get to know each other, you will progress to a point where you’re genuinely dating.

Many of the fears and concerns you’ve had in the past will start to be resolved with this person. They will help alleviate your doubts and provide reassurance. I see this relationship leading to deeper commitments, like having a child together, building a family, and eventually getting married. You’ll likely move in together, and your families will feel comfortable with the connection. This will represent a shift in your life, where your perspective on love will begin to change in a positive direction.

This person will come into your life with serious intentions. They are standing firm in their desire to build something long-term with you. They envision a future together, possibly starting with a pet like a dog or a cat, and then moving on to living together, getting engaged, and ultimately getting married. But this transformation won’t happen immediately—it will come after that long period of stagnation, perhaps after a year or two of being stuck in the same routine. Once this person enters your life, everything will change rapidly, leading to forward movement and eventually a deep, long-term bond between you two.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

To be honest, I think many of you are single because you’re currently in a phase where you may seem a little boring. You might be very focused on practical matters in life, rather than embracing something light-hearted, fun, and full of passion—things connected to love that make you feel energetic and vibrant. Right now, I feel like many of you are more mellow, chill, and disciplined. You’re focused on long-term goals and being patient, which leaves little room for love, especially in a youthful, carefree way. You might not have much to give at the moment because you’re too caught up in your long-term plans, like saving money, buying a home, or building your finances.

For some of you, this focus on saving and being frugal may even be affecting your love life. You’re being intentional with how you spend your money, which means you’re not really putting yourself out there when it comes to dating. If you’re a man, maybe you’re not interested in paying for dates or taking someone out. If you’re a woman, you may be focused on long-term goals or self-love, working on your boundaries so you don’t exhaust yourself with over-giving, especially if you’ve been a people pleaser in the past.

Some of you are also very focused on your career. You might be working on a master’s degree, completing a program, or trying to secure the job you want. Others might be struggling with unemployment, which leaves little mental space for dating. You’re focused on applying for jobs, preparing for interviews, or just figuring out how to establish yourself in your current city. You’re investing in your future, growing your finances, and prioritizing self-care, even if that includes focusing on health and wellness.

I also sense that you’re closed off at the moment. It’s almost like you’re serious and a bit boring right now, and it’s not giving off those passionate, romantic vibes. Instead, it feels more like a routine of work, setting goals, managing your health, and saving money. You’re being very disciplined and sticking to your plans. You may have high standards when it comes to love, and that’s why the people who approach you just aren’t meeting your expectations. You’re thinking long-term—marriage, owning a home, building a life together—and the people around you don’t seem serious enough.

You’re also busy juggling multiple responsibilities, and the last thing you want to do right now is introduce love into an already hectic life. You’re focused on the future and thinking about how love will fit into your life when the time is right. You’re wondering what kind of person will be able to align with the lifestyle you want to live, and right now, it doesn’t seem like love is a priority.

I also see you gaining more confidence. As your standards and boundaries grow stronger, you’re no longer willing to let people just come into your life without offering anything substantial. You can tell when someone is only interested in a one-night stand or a casual fling, and you’re not allowing that anymore. You’re focused on having a successful, long-lasting relationship, and you’re working on yourself to make that happen. You’re hitting your personal goals, whether they involve career, health, or finances, and that growth is boosting your confidence.

However, the relationships you’ve been dealing with haven’t been working out. You might have been talking to people who ghosted you, or situations that seemed promising ended up fizzling out. Maybe you didn’t get closure from past relationships or had a rocky ending that’s still affecting you. It’s been a difficult cycle where attempts at love have either led to ghosting or situations that just didn’t feel right. Now, you’re focusing on healing and building confidence, and you’re shifting your focus away from love because it hasn’t been working out for you. You’re learning to trust yourself and your boundaries, but for now, it seems like you’re better off staying focused on your personal goals rather than trying to force something that hasn’t been aligned.

For Pile 2, I think it’s going to be a while before you’re in anything stable in terms of a relationship. I’m going to be honest with you; that’s what I’m seeing. It looks like many of you have your hearts closed off. A lot of you are dealing with a cold, frozen heart, unwilling to budge on opening up or being vulnerable. Some of you are completely resistant to being vulnerable and reciprocating love. You’re pulling away from love and from the idea of opening your heart.

I see a few things happening here. Some of you may experience flings, and while the reading suggests you’re struggling with being single right now and that situations aren’t working out the way you want, I do think you will have some fun, thrilling, and exciting moments. These flings might happen during travel, possibly when you’re traveling for work or school, or even during a hike in nature. There’s potential for meeting someone during these moments. The relationship will be adventurous but unreciprocal in terms of emotional connection. One person will be more invested than the other—one will be all in, while the other remains emotionally distant, detached, and unwilling to be vulnerable.

The relationship might be passionate, but it will be intense in a chaotic, fleeting way, like popcorn popping in the microwave—exciting, but also loud and disruptive. I don’t see this becoming a committed relationship because of the imbalance in feelings. It will have a spontaneous energy, and it may catch you off guard when you meet this person, like when you’re commuting, hiking, or traveling.

Despite the passion, this relationship will involve a lot of growth and development, but also significant issues. You’ll argue and fight a lot, and you won’t see eye to eye. There may be jealousy between the two of you—one person’s success or achievements might cause envy, or the coldness of one might trigger frustration in the other. There could also be a lack of emotional depth, where one of you is seeking more while the other remains detached.

Unfortunately, I don’t see a committed relationship in your near future. I see more situationships—unreciprocal crushes or even exes who come back, but there’s still no real understanding or resolution. These relationships may cause drama in your life, but ultimately, they won’t be compatible or lead to commitment.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

For Pile 3, oh my gosh, I see so many different energies. I feel like right now, you guys are healing from a really bad ex—someone who came into your life like a whirlwind, shook you to the core, and brought a lot of chaos. You argued, fought, made up, broke up, came back together, and they broke down your self-esteem. They played mind games with you, manipulated you, and now you’re just like, “I just want peace.” You want a peaceful life. You want to live in a cottage, on a farm, far away from humanity. You want to bask in the sun’s rays, bathe in fresh spring water, cuddle up with a puppy, and bake pies all day. That’s the energy I’m getting for you.

There’s a lot to unpack here. First off, you definitely came from something very toxic. Someone was playing mind games with you. They were on and off, stonewalling you, gaslighting you. For some women, it may have even involved domestic violence. You might have been highly dependent on this person, but they weren’t helping you succeed in life. Instead, they were holding you back. They caused you to fail and even go into debt. You were losing money, and your mental and emotional state were deteriorating. You were going crazy dealing with them. This person could have left you at a time when you really needed them, when you needed a compassionate, loving, and supportive person, but they just weren’t there for you. It crushed your heart and soul.

But now it seems like you’re coming to a better place. You’re leaving that person behind, and now you’re just sitting back, maybe drinking tea in your rocking chair, minding your own business. You don’t want to go back to that situation. A lot of you were with someone who never wanted to work with you. There was bad teamwork. If you have a child with this person, you did most of the caregiving and financial support. This person gave very little to you, your child, or the situation. They were hard to work with and probably thought they knew better than you. But working together could have helped. Unfortunately, they refused to listen, refused to communicate properly, and refused to offer any mutual support.

At this point, you just want to break free. You’re in a place of peace, and you don’t want to be bothered. This person caused so much disharmony in your life, and they didn’t have any real plans to make things work. They were only focused on quick fixes, not on getting to the root of the problem or healing the situation. As I mentioned, this person could have left you financially strained, and you were constantly depending on them, but they were broke and couldn’t help. This was a relationship built on crumbs—an attachment that kept you together, not love. The emotional connection had been drained, and there was coldness, resentment, bitterness, and a complete lack of mutual support, love, or compassion.

So I think you’ve recently walked away from a toxic relationship or situation, and now you’re just living for yourself. You can’t be bothered to do anything but enjoy simple pleasures like baking cinnamon rolls from scratch, watching the rain fall, and drinking coffee. I understand why you’re in this peaceful place because you’ve been through so much. And now, you’re growing and moving in a new direction. You’re focused on your personal growth, on new adventures, and new things to experience. You’re embracing the new and leaving the old behind.

Your confidence is growing, and with that, your happiness is growing too. There’s nothing that can take that away from you now. Not only do you have more energy now, but you also have more clarity. When you were with that person, you felt like a shell of yourself, but now you’re feeling reinvigorated. Your confidence is rising, and you’re starting to look at yourself differently. You have a lot of goals, and you’re making changes to your lifestyle. You’re glowing up and bossing up, becoming the person you always were, but that toxic situation was holding you back.

Being single and detached from that person is allowing you to flourish. You’re spreading your wings and seeing life differently. You’re more optimistic, more energetic, and more confident. You’re tackling tasks that once felt daunting, and you’ve had many proud moments lately, from the things you’ve accomplished since leaving that situation. There’s a song called Do Better that resonates with this reading, and it perfectly describes what you’re going through. It says, “Look at you doing way better without him. Look at you living.” And that’s exactly what you’re doing now—living.

As you enter the new year, you’ll do so with your head held high. I respect you for who you are and all the changes you’ve gone through. It’s admirable to see how far you’ve come. You’re resilient, and your bounce back is incredible. That person has to miss out because they put you through a lot. But now you’re overcoming it and rising above what they did to you. You’re not letting it hold you down. You’re maturing and moving forward, and I see you making progress, getting to the bag, and attracting better things. Keep up the great work.

I feel that for at least a year—maybe more—you’re going to be single, not actively dealing with anyone. During this time, you’ll focus on rebuilding your life and rediscovering who you are. Your head may feel cloudy as you try to figure things out, as you’re still healing from the past situation. Although you’re moving forward, you’re also somewhat stuck because that past relationship left a deep impact. It will take time to fully heal, and you might not feel ready to seriously date again for a while. You’ll likely be wary of diving into a new relationship, fearing it might turn out the same way as the last one. Your main focus will be on other areas of your life, as you’re not in a rush to pursue love right now.

You may feel that your passion for love and romance has burned out, and you’ll avoid situations that could turn toxic, chaotic, or full of arguments. For a while, you may not even know what you want in a relationship or who you want to be with. But I do feel that after a year or more, you’ll meet someone new. This person will want to marry you. They’ll be serious about building a stable, long-lasting relationship with you. As you get to know each other, they’ll demonstrate their commitment not only through words but through actions. They’ll show you that they’re there for you, supporting you emotionally and physically. They’ll give you lots of affection and romantic gestures, and this relationship will lead to marriage.

So for now, take your time, enjoy your single life, and continue healing. Love will find you when the time is right.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟒

Oh my gosh, so the first thing I got is that someone is not wanting commitment in your life. Maybe it’s someone currently in your life that you have your eye on or someone you’re dealing with in a situation, but they don’t want commitment—or maybe you don’t. Either way, there’s a lack of commitment in this situation and a lack of movement. Somebody might be struggling with confidence here.

I see for some of you that either you or the person you’re dealing with is struggling with confidence when it comes to pursuing a person. Maybe you’re very reserved, shy, and hesitant to put yourself out there. You don’t want to be obvious or assertive. When you find someone you like, you’re subtle. You don’t express yourself directly or approach them. Instead, you stay in the background, waiting for them to make a move. You’re on the receptive end, and that’s what I’m picking up.

Yes, it seems to me there’s an unreciprocated situation. That’s the energy I’m getting. Either you’re in a connection with someone right now, and you’re confused, they’re confused, and the whole situation is confused, or you’re single and ready for a relationship, but nothing is happening—it’s stuck.

Because this energy feels confusing, I’m breaking this reading down into two parts: one for people who are single and one for people who are currently talking to someone.

For people who are single:

It seems like you’re ready for a relationship. You’re in a good emotional place. There’s no chaos happening in your life. You’re ready to talk, to spark a conversation, and to be intellectually stimulated. You want someone who is willing to give just as much as you’re willing to give. You want someone who reciprocates your energy, brings peace into your life, and allows you to explore and enjoy life.

You really want someone who is honest, straightforward, and open. You don’t want someone who hides behind smoke and mirrors. You’re looking for someone fun, someone with a bit of sparkle and energy who keeps things fresh. You don’t want someone boring or predictable. You want someone who switches up their routine, who’s spontaneous. You want someone who, on a Monday, might go to work, and on a Friday, decides to go on an adventure in a different town. You want someone who’s down to say, “Let’s go get drinks on a Wednesday,” or “Let’s go on a hike on Sunday.”

You want someone who is fun, exciting, and spiritual. That’s what you’re really wanting right now because you’re in a space where you’re ready to meet someone like that. You’re ready to match that energy, and you want someone who will reciprocate it.

However, for the single people in this pile, I feel like you’re just not getting anyone coming your way. It seems like everyone’s scared to approach you or to talk to you. You’re over here like, “Come on over!” but they’re over there like, “No, I want you to come over here!” There’s a bit of a stalemate. You’re ready to meet someone, but the people around you aren’t meeting you where you’re at.

It’s not that you’re a bad person or doing something wrong. In fact, you’re amazing. You know how to communicate, you’re fun, and you’re ready for adventure. You’re in a peaceful stage of your life, and you’re very nurturing, giving, compassionate, and honest. But despite all of that, you’re just not getting the attention you’re looking for or attracting the right people.

The people who are interested in you might not be the people you want, and the ones you want aren’t showing up. You also don’t want to go on dating sites or meet anyone online. You really want to meet someone face-to-face. But right now, it feels like nobody is grabbing your attention.

For people who are currently talking to someone:

If you’re talking to someone, it seems like you want all these amazing things in a partner—honesty, emotional connection, commitment—but the person you’re dealing with doesn’t seem to want the same things.

You feel like there’s potential with this person. You think the relationship could elevate into something meaningful, with love, compassion, and commitment. But this person doesn’t want to commit. They’re refusing to come your way and give you what you want.

Even though you’re honest and clear with them, they may not be giving you the same clarity in return. They might not know what they want, or they might just know that they don’t want to commit. They could be avoiding the serious conversations you want to have.

This person might be against marriage, or they may not want to get in their feelings. They like what you do for them, but they’re not thinking about moving the relationship to the next level. They could also be taking you for granted, assuming that you’ll always be there no matter what. So, they don’t feel the need to put in any work.

At the end of the day, this person isn’t prioritizing your needs or the relationship. You might feel like you’re holding on to hope that things will change, but this person isn’t showing signs of wanting the same level of commitment or emotional bond that you’re looking for.

For this group, I don’t see love happening for you anytime soon. It seems that many of you may be unsure about what you truly want or are stuck in a state of limbo, uncertain about how to approach a love situation. As a result, I think a lot of you will be stepping away from love for a while.

There are major changes on the horizon for you. These changes could involve losing someone important, whether it’s a friend or a situation you thought would grow but didn’t go anywhere. You’re going to go through a significant transformation in the future, which will bring endings. However, with those endings, there will also be an opportunity for healing.

I see a lot of healing in your future, but I don’t foresee a committed relationship coming your way anytime soon. Instead, there will be big life changes and a period of introspection where you might feel indecisive or unclear about what you want in love. You might not fully understand your feelings toward another person, or you could encounter fleeting connections—short-lived and superficial, almost like “smoke and mirrors.”

As these endings occur, a new chapter will open in your life, centered around healing and moving forward. While there may not be any immediate or long-term commitments in your future right now, this healing period will help you gain clarity. It will give you the space to decide what you truly want from relationships and to set higher standards for love moving forward.

Though this may feel disheartening, know that this phase is part of life’s journey, and it’s preparing you for something greater down the line. I hope this healing stage brings you clarity, strength, and self-awareness.

[belphegorspillow]

Could I request a baker MC letting Lucifer taste her baked goods to see what he likes? All the while, she is completely unaware of the glares he is receiving from his brothers.

Hi Lovely! Of course, hope you enjoy :] ~~~~~~~~

FEM!MC who is a Baker giving Lucifer baked goods

[no fem pronouns are mentioned besides you/your, but the request asked for fem mc] ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lucifer glances down at the variety of baked treats that were placed onto the table. He looked over towards you as a smile settles down on your face.

You had been in the kitchen for the whole day, keeping more of the others out of the kitchen - with the exception of Beel - you had baked your butt off to get the treats done for your crush.

You were a baker before you came over into the Devildom, you may got to cook and bake now and again, especially with Luke, but now you really wanted to show Lucifer how much you appreciate him.

"Mc, this is quite amazing." He hummed a bit as he took a small tartlet into his mouth, the taste of cherries filled his mouth. "You are quite the baker."

You smile, your heart fluttered at the compliments that Lucifer gave you.

Lucifer would watch you as you smile and offer him more treats to taste. He appreciated what you made for him, the treats all were divine, they were better than anything else he had tasted, since you had made them for him.

You may not have noticed it, but Lucifer did. Right behind your figure, the 6 brothers stood and poking their heads through the door.

"Why does Lucifer get to try it." Levi mumbled as he watches in envy.

"It aint fair. " Mammon huffed a bit, he was slightly glaring towards his brother.

Beel's mouth watered at the sight of the treats, he wished that he could taste the treats, but he knew it was all for Lucifer when he saw you in the kitchen earlier.

Satan's glares towards Lucifer were pointed directly at lucifer, he wished he could curse Lucifer's taste buds so that he cant taste your treats so that you would pick someone else to taste your treats.

Asmodeus was pouting that he wasn't able to be there to take photos and show off what you made, it was all for lucifer.

Belphegor was a bit mad that it was all for Lucifer, he was silently cursing Lucifer.

Lucifer could hear the muttering and sulking noises coming from his brothers.

He felt a sense of pride that you wanted him to have the treats first that you made. He continued to eat those treats in the view of his brothers.

The baked treats suddenly taste even sweeter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist

[eveomo]

bounties and blessings - arthur morgan x f!reader

chapter 3 (SFW)

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ synopsis : after meeting a seemingly dangerous yet kind outlaw during a bounty, your world seems to get turned upside down after you can't seem to stop running into each other. could this be the beginning of something you've both been longing for?

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ warnings/tags : MINORS MAY INTERACT WITH SFW CHAPTERS (NSFW WILL BE TAGGED), depictions of violence, arguments, angst, eventual smut, unprotected piv sex, guns, gun violence, swearing, mutual pining, strangers to lovers, soft arthur, animal death, PTSD, mentions/depictions of abuse, attempted SA (very brief and non descriptive and for plot purposes only), NO PREGNANCY, NO BABIES, MC isnt a frail weak girl who constantly needs saving, often grammatically incorrect (probably)

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ contains : arthur morgan x f!reader, no use of y/n, reader changes the plot for the better

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ wc : 3.8k

You awoke to the sound of rain hitting the window panes of the hotel room you had gotten for the night. The clouds hung low, clinging to the mountains like a nervous child clings to their mother. Whatever light shone through the clouds was directly in your eyes, and you let out a groan of irritation at the intrusion. Rubbing your eyes, you sat up, placing your sore feet on the ground before running your hand through your tangled hair and deciding you needed a bath—badly. 

After putting your boots back on, you headed for the front desk and placed some coins on the counter. The clerk directed you to the bathing room, and you gladly entered, appreciating the dim lighting. After undressing, you folded your clothing and placed them on the stool next to the bathtub before stepping into the hot water and sighing with relief. Grabbing the bar of soap, you rubbed it between your hands and started with your hair, scrubbing your scalp, then your shoulders, working your way down all the way to your feet. You remained in the tub for quite some time, appreciating the way the warm water released any tension held in your body. 

Now freshly clean, you left the hotel and unhitched Lenora, climbing on her back and lightly tapping her sides with your feet before trotting out of Valentine. You were low on food and money, which left you with one option to fill your empty stomach: Hunting. Were you bad at it? Not necessarily, however you had long run out of arrows and hadn’t had the time to make more, forcing you to use your revolver or rifle to hunt which was less than ideal for killing small animals such as rabbits and turkeys. Crossing over the hills, you kept your eyes out for herds of deer, or anything that would keep you fed for the next few days.

 After riding for about 20 minutes, you saw a herd just down the hill and you quickly dismounted, removing your rifle from your saddle. Taking light steps down the hillside, you crouched behind a bush and waited for the grazing deer to lift their heads up, giving you the perfect shot. You held your rifle up, closing one eye and taking a deep breath to steady yourself, finger ghosting over the trigger. You locked in on a movement, and as soon as the doe had looked up, you exhaled and fired, sending the rest of the herd running in a panic.

Letting out a sharp whistle, you approached the deer’s body while the sound of Lenora’s beating hooves got closer. You hoisted the deer onto your horse’s back, grunting at the exertion. A loud grumble erupted from your stomach, and you mounted Lenora, setting off to find a campsite so you could cook what you had hunted.

The sun was beating down on you now, a sharp contrast to the previous rain and clouds just that morning. It painted your face a slight pink despite the shade your hat provided, and you found yourself longing for your blouse despite the rolled-up sleeves of your button up you had stolen from a bounties dead body. Spotting a cloud of smoke coming from a clearing in the trees, you quickly pulled the reins and directed Lenora, hoping to find an empty camp with a forgotten fire. Unfortunately for you, gunshots began to erupt from the area. Hesitating for a moment, you urged your horse faster, quickly approaching the camp as part of you hoped you would be left with dead bodies to move, and an empty camp. Despite your speed, the gunfire had stopped as you had arrived, no more than 20 feet back. 

“Dirty O’Driscolls.” A familiar voice spat out, and you sighed at the realization that it was Arthur before dismounting and walking towards the now empty camp. 

Just as you were about to enter the clearing, you spotted a man in a green vest sneaking up on him, knife in hand before lunging and tackling Arthur to the ground and you froze. A struggle ensued, the knife getting far too close to Arthurs neck. You quickly drew your revolver and pulled the trigger, shooting the man point blank in the head. 

“We gotta stop meeting like this. You alright?” you said, finally emerging from the bushes as Arthur pushed off the dead body slumped over his.

“Sure, thank you, ma’am.” He replied with a huff, rolling his shoulders in pain. Arthur quickly looted the body, putting a watch and some tonic in his satchel before approaching you and dropping some coins in your hand.

“Ma’am? Just how old do you think I am, Mister?” Looking down at your hand, you quickly counted the small amount of coins sitting in your palm.  “‘nd hold on now, me savin’ yer life is worth $3?” You exclaimed in disbelief, cocking an eyebrow as you shoved the coins into the back pocket of your trousers.

“What? An outlaw can’t have any manners now? I already thanked you,” He scoffed, clicking his tongue as his horse returned to him. He grabbed the reins and mounted his American Standardbred, looking down at you. His gaze was strong and unnerving, a distant look in his blue eyes that chilled you to your core. 

“Well, I oughta head back-“ 

“Wait!” You spoke before you realized the words had even exited your mouth, and you felt the blood rush to your face in embarrassment. Thankfully, your minor sunburn concealed your blush.

Arthur cocked a brow before replying, “Yes?”

You threw your thumb back, gesturing to the deer resting on the rear of Lenora. 

“Err… Could you help me skin this? I ain’t all that great at it.” He shook his head in amusement and dismounted.

“Sure, I’m not expected back for another day or so anyway.” Arthur approached your horse before picking up the deer and resting its body on the ground. He squatted next to the animal, his eyes scanning its lifeless body. He let out a low whistle as he noticed the bullet hole straight through the skull.

“You got a good shot there.” You smiled softly before replying,

“No point in havin’ a good shot if I can’t skin it myself.” Shrugging, you squatted next to him and removed your hat, wiping the back of your hand along where sweat had collected at the brim. You glanced down at Arthurs hands, knuckles scabbed over from the bar fight, and various scars covering both worn hands.

“You been livin’ alone out here and you can hunt, but you don't know how to skin what you’ve caught?” Arthur teased, a glint in his blue eyes that made your breath get caught in your throat.

“I-I know how… I just ain’t good at it.” You mumbled. You were still somewhat new to this. Hunting was usually a success for you, but the skinning? That’s a different beast altogether. 

Arthur chuckled softly, voice low and gravelly. “It ain’t about knowin’ how. It’s about knowin’ when to make the right cuts. You gotta let the blade do all the work for you, not your hands.”

You shot him a skeptical glance, but his posture and the confidence in his voice made you reconsider any doubts you had. With a long sigh, you dropped your head. “Alright, teach me then.”

A small smirk worked its way onto Arthurs face, but he didn’t say anything more. He removed a knife from his satchel and it sliced through the hide without any hassle, a clean line following the curve of the ribcage. The first cut was always the hardest, and despite his years of practice he had yet to perfect it. 

He glanced over at you, admiring the furrow in your brow and the way you tugged your lip between your teeth in concentration. “You ever skin a deer before?” Arthur asked, further separating the hide from the meat and muscle.

“Once or twice,” you murmured, though it was painfully obvious from the way you shifted uncomfortably that you weren’t confident in the slightest. You gestured towards the hide as he worked. “Never as cleanly as this, though.”

Arthur paused for only a moment before continuing on. “Yeah, well that’s the trick. Slow and steady. Take your time, there’s no need to rush.” He slid the knife down the flank of the deer and handed it to you, hilt-first. “Take it from here. Just follow the line.”

“What, you think I don’t got my own knife?” Arthur rolled his eyes in response while you drew a slow, controlled cut through the hide, following the line he had made. It was much harder than Arthur had made it look, your hands were shaking and it felt as though the knife was fighting you.

“You’re gripping too tight,” Arthur said, his voice lined with a soft tenderness that disappeared as soon as it had bubbled up. “Loosen up, let the blade do all the work.”

You relaxed your grip slightly, and the knife slid more easily through the meat and hide. The scent of the deer wafted through the air, sharp and pungent. As you worked, you fell into a rhythm, the initial discomfort dissolving as your movements became more fluid. 

Arthur nodded in approval. “That’s it, girl. Just like that.” Your face flushed as he spoke, a simple praise making you feel giddy inside. He helped you peel back the hide and roll it up, placing it right behind the bedroll sitting behind your saddle. 

“Make sure you keep some fat on the meat, just not too much. You need that bit for cookin’.” He finished, and you glared at him.

“I know how to cook, thank you.” It came out sharper than intended, but Arthur just laughed.

“You sure? Even a lone wolf has more meat on its bones than you.” He joked, gesturing to your small frame.

“It ain’t polite to comment on a ladies body, Mister.” You chided him, beginning to cut the meat away from the bones.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were a lady.” Arthur teased, removing his hat so he could wipe his forehead with the back of his hand.

You glared at him. “Shut up.” Eyes narrowed, you continued to work while a pleasant silence settled between the two of you. The only noise being the chatter of the wildlife and the occasional grunt from you and Arthur as you worked on the deer. You worked delicately, cutting away at the tender joints and muscle. 

“Why’re you helping me, Arthur?” You asked, absent-minded as you made another cut. “Ain’t like you owe me nothin’—except your life.” He chuckled at the last comment, but stayed silent a beat before setting down the other knife he had retrieved from his satchel and studying your face for a moment. 

“You’re better off with help than on your own, and I guess because you saved my life.” He drawled. 

You didn’t ask for more, that was enough. 

You both worked together in a comfortable silence, the deer slowly being separated into usable parts. As you freed the meat from the bones, Arthur wrapped the meat, then used discarded sinew to tie it together. It was taking a lot longer than you had expected it to, and the sun was beginning to creep behind the mountaintops. You lit a cigarette, nursing it between your lips as you continued to cut away, before finally finishing and cutting some of the meat into smaller chunks. Standing up, you grabbed a couple of logs that the O’Driscolls had so kindly left, and you nursed the fire until you could feel the heat on your face. 

“Well, I’d best be on my way.” Arthur grunted as he stood, wiping his hands on his jeans before turning on his heel and approaching his horse. 

“Hey,” you started, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly “you want to stay and eat? It’s the least I could do since you helped me,” Arthur turned back around and nodded, not saying much else. 

The two of you sat around the fire, chunks of venison sitting on the blade of your knives as you cooked it and ate silently. It was a little more awkward now, the sun had set completely, the only light being the now warm glow of the fire which illuminated Arthurs sharp features. You studied his face for only a moment before his eyes met yours, and you quickly diverted your gaze towards the flames. 

Suddenly, the night was thick with smoke, the air heavy and burning your throat with each stuttering inhale. The once sturdy frame of your home enveloped in flames, now nothing more than splintered wood and blackened timber. It groaned as the flame further consumed it, shooting sparks up into the air like dying stars. 

You knelt in the snow, your hands trembling as you held the body of your now lifeless husband. His blood, warm and sticky on your palms now coated the front of your nightgown, but you didn’t notice, nor did you care. You were too focused on committing his features to memory, his pale face illuminated by the growing fire, his green eyes the same as the day when your parents had introduced the two of you, his muddy hand held out with a gap-toothed smile as you hid behind your mothers legs. You placed your hand over his now glazed over eyes, closing them forever. A warm kiss against cold, dry lips made your body wrack with sobs as you held him closer, kissing him for the final time.

His chest, once broad and full of life, was now still. There was a gaping wound where the shotgun had torn through his torso, his blood staining the white snow. He’d fallen just outside the door, trying to make it to the horses, trying to get you to safety before the debt collectors came. But they were too fast, too brutal. The gunshots rang through your ears, reminding you-

“Hey,” You were snapped out of your flashback, staring back at Arthur with wide eyes. 

“You alright?” He finished, putting out his cigarette. You sat upright, releasing yourself from the nervous posture you held. Bringing a cigarette to your lips, you struck the match and lit it, inhaling.

“Yeah, just thinking ‘s all.” Wiping a stray tear from your face, you put your blade back over the flames since the piece you had cooked had now gone cold. Arthur let out a hum, clearly not wanting to dig any deeper, and he shifted uncomfortably where he sat. He scratched his head and sighed before standing.

“I really should be going now, Miss…” He trailed off, clearly expecting your name. You spoke it softly and he repeated it, before mounting his horse and riding away. Left alone, you allowed the pit in your stomach to consume you, and your body wracked with sobs as you held your head in your hands. It felt like you could barely breathe, your chest constricting and compressing; breaths coming short and stuttered as if you were swinging on the end of a rope. 

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here all alone?” 

You froze as the click of a rifle cocking resounded through the clearing. Your hand slid instinctively to the grip of your revolver. There were 5 of them. You could hear their murmurs and the muffled shuffle of feet creeping closer from every direction.

“Look at this, boys,” came a low voice from behind you. “A pretty lady waitin’ here just for us. Ain’t that a sight?” 

He was closer now, just to your left. You didn't turn, but your fingers wrapped around the cold steel of your revolver, your eyes flicked quickly to the nearest cover—a barrel just ahead of you. You had seconds, maybe less.

“Get the rope,” another voice sneered, this one rougher and deeper, laced with authority. “Tie her up nice and tight. We got ourselves a real prize this time.”

Your heart pounded, but your movements were fluid, second nature at this point. You quickly swiveled, pulling your revolver from its holster in one quick motion. The first a scrappy man with a scar running down his face stepped into view just as you fired a round. The bullet ripped through his chest with a sickening thud, his body jerking back and collapsing into the dirt with a gurgled scream, his green vest stained with blood.

The other O’Driscolls reacted insantly, guns drawn. But you were already darting to the side, tucking low behind the barrel as bullets whizzed past you, striking the dry earth with sharp cracks.

“She’s fast,” one of them cursed, his voice filled with frustration. “Get her!”

You breathed deeply, mind sharp and calculating. You needed to thin their numbers, fast. You knew they wouldn’t just back off—these bastards would press until they had you cornered.

A younger man, no older than twenty, emerged from the trees ahead of you, eyes wide with panic as he aimed his rifle. You ducked and popped out the side of the barrel and fired, sending a bullet straight through his knee. He collapsed with a scream, his rifle falling uselessly beside him. 

“Goddamn it!” The leaders voice rang out. “You ain't getting away from this, girl!” 

You didn’t respond, you couldnt afford to. From behind the barrel, you pulled a second revolver from your belt, your finger sliding across the trigger as you darted toward a wagon, firing off two quick shots. The third O'Driscoll went down with a hit to his shoulder, his rifle flying from his hands, the second bullet catching him in the side. He didn’t make a sound as he hit the ground, twitching for a moment before stilling.

Two down. Three left.

The leader, a burly man with a thick beard, shouted for the others to fan out. You could hear their feet scrambling in the underbrush, closing in from all sides.

"Come on, girl!" the leader yelled. "We ain’t playin’ fair anymore!"

You gritted your teeth, slamming the revolver back into its holster, and grabbed the rifle you’d left propped up against a nearby tree. You rose up above the wagon and pulled the trigger, catching the next O'Driscoll—a tall man with a wild-eyed stare—right between the eyes.

The remaining two O'Driscolls exchanged panicked glances. One was the young boy you’d already injured, clutching his bleeding leg with a grimace. The other, a grizzled man with a long scar across his throat, charged forward with his rifle raised, desperation in his eyes.

You could hear him coming, his boots crashing through the underbrush. You didn’t wait. As he broke through the tree line, you were already aiming. The rifle bucked in your hands, two shots ringing out like thunder. The O'Driscoll staggered back, his rifle spinning from his hands as he crumpled into the dirt.

You felt a burning pain in your thigh, and you looked down as you watched blood begin to stain your trousers.

Shit.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins, and you were brought back down to earth as you remembered the boy. His face was pale, his leg a mess of blood. He was fumbling with his own gun, terror written all over his face. You took a breath, steadying yourself. you moved quickly now, ignoring the searing pain in your right leg as your boots thudded softly against the earth as you closed the distance between the two of you.

"Please," he whimpered, his voice shaking as he leveled his gun at your chest. "Please don’t—"

He didn’t get to finish. A shot that wasn’t yours rang through the air with deadly precision. The boy dropped his gun, body slumped in the dirt in a heap. You shot your arm back up, aiming for wherever that bullet had come from.

“‘S just me,” Arthur spoke, and you sighed in relief as you placed your gun back in its holster. You sucked air in through your teeth as the adrenaline left your body and you were reminded of the gunshot wound in your thigh. Looking down, a choked gasp left your throat as your pant leg was almost entirely soaked.

“Shit.” He dismounted quickly and tugged his bandana off his neck. Guiding you with a hand on your shoulder, he sat you down and instructed you to put your leg out straight as he began applying a tourniquet. You hissed in pain as he tied it.

“I know, I know.” Arthur comforted you, his eyes meeting yours. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled your arm over his shoulder, walking you towards his horse.

“I can ride, Arthur.” You murmured, attempting to free your arm from the grip he had on your wrist as he helped you walk.

“Not with an injury like that, you can’t.” Arthur said with a raised brow.

Huffing, you reserved yourself to your fate, allowing him to guide you to his horse. You looked away in embarrassment as he placed his arms underneath your shoulders, hoisting you up onto the back. Arthur approached Lenora, a series of ‘You’re alright, girl’s and ‘It’s okay’s left his mouth as he grabbed onto her reins and led her back over. He mounted and clicked twice, his horse jolting forward.

“Wait—Where are you taking me?” The realization dawned upon you that you had nowhere to go, and you clearly couldn’t stay at the empty O’Driscoll camp. Anxiety clawed its way into your stomach for no good reason, nausea twisting your gut as the pain in your leg grew with every stride

. 

“Back to camp. My camp, I mean. That leg needs tending to, Miss Grimshaw and the other ladies can help you with that.” Miss Grimshaw? The other ladies? Confusion settled between your brows as you held a little tighter onto Arthurs waist. Very few gangs ran with women, and if they did, it was for the men’s stress relief.  

“No! I can’t ask that of you. Just leave me somewhere with cover and I’ll figure it out.” You pleaded with Arthur, the last thing you wanted to do was invite yourself into their camp and use their resources. You hadn’t had many run-ins with gangs, sure you cleared an O’Driscoll camp here and there when you had to, but you preferred avoiding them at all costs

“You won’t last a week out here with your leg in that kinda condition. You’re coming back to camp with me and that's final.” The commanding tone of his voice shut you up instantly, and you reserved yourself to your fate with a sigh as Arthur passed you a bottle of whiskey from his satchel.

“Drink this, it’ll be a long ride without it.”

yaaay chapter 3!!! enjoy some action (just not the sexy kind)

i gave up on arthur pov at the end of the chapters bc it felt corny. hopefully the dialogue felt accurate and flowed well but if it didnt please lmk! i am always open to constructive criticism <3<3

hope u liked it! pls like + reblog <3

[wrthzell]

hellooo! i haven't requested anything for a WHILE but your latest work of m!reader x vander was so cute so i got a little idea.

LET'S JUST IMAGINE (😭😭) that vander survives, but instead of him, the one who died THAT day was his fiancé/husband. so now, he's not warwick but his husband is.

u see the reunion inside the mines, how would it be if his husband on warwick form recognized him? and how would he react to seeing him like that?

if u liked the request let me know bc i may have a little idea of a continuation for this one where everyone gets a happy ending lol 🫡

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄. — (Vander X Warwick!Male Reader).

Note: Hi! That's actually such an interesting switch! Ended up very angsty and took a while to finish since end of year has everyone very busy. It was fun to write, thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: Vander's husband was accidentally a victim during Silco's revenge plot. After many years, he returns to his home—Vander—but with drastic changes.

Warnings: Spoilers, don't read unless you've watched Arcane. Potentially triggering content that briefly mentions a fight and injuries.

Key: (Y/n) — Your name. | (H/c) — Your hair colour. | (E/c) — Your eye colour.

Red obscures (Y/n)’s vision, all objects but a mere shadowy silhouette in a maroon background. The sounds are distorted, muffled as if the creature was submerged inside a liquid even as the putrid air scorches his lungs and burns inside him along with his blood. Faint memories fade in and out of his consciousness like a detuned radio switching between frequencies, the humming of the static and the violent flashes of noise dulled out by the words that cut through it.

Powder’s eyes adjust the settings, keeping the radio tuned at the right frequency and letting the memories be coherent and loud for longer. The red fades, white seeps through, and suddenly he sees the little girl before him, shining like the sun. He opens his mouth, strange even to himself, and lets the sound out of his throat. “Powder.”

A rough, calloused hand presses against his shoulder in a gentle gesture of affection as he watches the children run around chasing each other. Tousled blue hair comes in his direction, Powder’s eyes closed as the girl giggles and holds out another one of her recent contraptions in her tiny hands. Her eyes were open, and the sweet look on them brought a pleasant sensation of joy. The hand squeezes his shoulder. Vander. Vander. The bar. The mines. Vander.

Claws scratch against dirt and filthy pavements, and the creature desperately propels itself forward as the memories fade away. His feet ache, the static gradually returns, and his vision fogs. There's nothing left once he reaches the mines. Nothingness gnaws at his mind, and the smell of soot and ash throws him back into the liquid; the mines brighten up with his movements, but he is blind to the light. (Y/n) stays quiet, no longer searching, just waiting. What he's waiting for, he doesn't know.

Something does come eventually, metallic footsteps and mumbling voices that send a sharp ringing to his head and urge him to attack whatever has come to threaten him. His gut screams at him to move, and he can't hold out any longer; as the sounds grow louder, he gives in to instinct.

Blood rushes to his head, a mechanical click of weapons echoes in the mines, and he feels a surge of vicious adrenaline pumping along with the mixture of chemicals inside him. Dark silhouettes appear, bracing themselves for confrontation and raising their guards; one stands out, a hulking figure—compared to the others—that stands in front with its fists raised.

(Y/n) lunges at it, sharp teeth ready to maul the shadow and tear it into pieces. He knocks them to the ground, claw grazing their left cheek as he slams his hand on the side of their head. The black blur stays still, eyes boring into the creature's mismatched ones.

Greyish blue overwhelms the crimson and the darkness, and as the man’s mouth opens, his voice pierces its way directly into his ears. “(Y/n)... What happened to you?”

It’s unlike Powder’s gentle tuning; his is a harsh decentering force that rips him away from his current reality and thrusts him into the past and the present at the same time. He shudders, mind spinning endlessly with recognition and horror freezing him at where he stands and paralysing his every limb to complete inertia. If he once was submerged in liquid, this liquid has now been turned solid and started to form cracks at its surface.

Five seconds in stillness pass before the creature staggers away, its body swaying side to side as it loses its balance. The pressure in his brain grows stronger as the static melts away and leaves clarity in its wake; the memories surge in a blaring stream, and this time, they stay. (Y/n) blinks twice—vision finally clearing up—and looks at the man in front of him.

“Vander.”

The lights flickered with each step he took and white spots danced in his vision. (Y/n)’s head throbbed, his heart ached, and suddenly it wasn’t just dirt entering his lungs but burning ash as Vander gawked at him—eyes wide, desperate. He stands amid fire; wreckage falls all around him, threatening to crush him and end his life at any moment. His body is much too heavy to move, and a strange fluorescent liquid leaks out of his eyes and ears.

After a long beat of silence, he felt something wet staining his hand, which he now realised had been firmly pressed against the centre of his stomach. He falls. His head hits the floor first, sending a muffled thud from his ear to his eye. The fire crackles around him, cradling him to sleep as the screams vanish bit by bit and the image of Vander dissolves like dust in the wind.

A contrite silence lingers in the mines; his senses return at the same time his memories settle in. No more switching between frequencies, but stuck in the appropriate frequency at which he can remember what was heard and still hear what is being said. Everything breaks completely, and he falls to his knees.

“(Y/n).” Vander calls, worriedly rushing to hold his lover's disfigured face in his hands. There's a rush of tenderness and longing coursing through his veins; he is overwhelmed both by the joy of reunion and by the grief of what was lost.

Darkness shrouds them like a warm cloak, hiding the two men from sight. (Y/n) crawls closer to the other man, his broad figure curling on itself to be as small as possible and claws meekly laying stagnant at the sides of the men he loves. The two hold each other, hearing the sound of their hearts beating. They are alive, and for once in a long time, they are home.