#staring really intensely at the painted face reflecting back at me

[aurumalatus]

𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝟔]

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 3.5k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection, descriptions of blood and injury, panic attacks and anxiety

summary.

in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.

author's note. first off, sorry for the late chapter ;-; but the next chapter sort of marks the start to the second half of the story, so i hope you guys look forward to that! some parts of this chapter are a bit intense so please heed the warnings! please let me know if you enjoyed! reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

↢ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣

𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗜𝗧'𝗟𝗟 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟 𝗔𝗟𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧

As you make slow progress toward recovery, Kinich can’t expel the image of you bleeding out from his mind.

The village doctor had rushed to your home, undeterred by the blanket of night falling over the land. The woman practically thinks of you as her own daughter, after all, with the amount of work you’ve done for her over the years. She stitches up your wound with a careful, practiced hand.

(Kinich stands at your side as it happens, your hand grasping his in a bone-crushing grip. He tries not to cry when you start to scream out in pain.)

She commits you to bed rest. You whine and argue against it. Kinich fights with you about it. You make up like you always do, but you stare longingly at the door every day when he leaves to work.

Time passes, and you do get better. He thanks the archons before he sleeps for that fact, truly.

But the guilt doesn’t cease. 

It prods at him in the dead of night, wrapping his stomach in knots as he tosses and turns. Even when he can hear your soft, even breathing across the room, a deep terror takes root in his chest. Nightmares lurk and haunt his rest, and sometimes, even when he wakes up, he has trouble believing that you’re still alive—it all feels too real when it’s in his head.

Even in reality, you’re decidedly…different. The weakness of your smile, of your hand in his—he can’t quite get used to it. It’s all part of your healing process, he knows that deep down, but he can’t shake the feeling that he had a role in all of this. 

On one night, the feeling of sin finally manages to gnaw through his chest.

He wakes up in a cold sweat, shirt sticking to him like a second skin. His blankets are already strewn about the floor, likely from his erratic movements. His gaze slides over to you, still peacefully resting, and he sags with relief. The pain keeps you awake sometimes, so it’s a miracle that you’re sleeping soundly for once.

With that in mind, he eases himself out of bed quietly, tiptoeing past you and into the hallway. He heads for the bathroom—a splash of cold water over his weary face might be just what he needs. The moonlight filters lazily through the window, uneven slivers painted over the wall. He yawns, letting the door shut behind him.

The mirror sits above the sink. 

It’s one of the more expensive things you have in your house, but you’d gotten it for a good deal at the flea market—Kinich had bartered for what felt like hours. You’d gushed over the artistry of it, the glass intricately framed with braided knots of silver. Kinich hadn’t really understood back then—a mirror is just a mirror, after all—but he’s not keen on saying no to you. He never has been.

His reflection stares back at him, haunting in the gloom. 

When he looks at himself like this, he sees his mother. He doesn’t really remember the sound of her voice anymore, but he remembers her eyes, her hair. So much of him had been inherited from her.

Most days, he tries not to think about where she might be—he doesn’t see a point in asking questions he’ll never know the answer to. But he does wonder if she thinks of him, if even for a fleeting moment of her day. Then, he wonders if she remembers him at all.

(Maybe she doesn’t want to.)

His reflection frowns.

Locks of dark hair shine in the lowlight, the streak of blond distinct against the plain backdrop. The paleness of it, even when braided back, still reminds him of his father. A flash of a rage-filled glare strikes through his mind.

“Kinich—Kinich, help me, please!”

The voice—

He chokes.

Kinich stumbles back from the mirror, the sight of his own reflection suddenly horrifying him. No matter where he moves, he can’t seem to escape it, golden eyes—no, his father’s eyes—following as he staggers around the room. A ghost’s frigid fingers grip around his shoulders.

It was his fault.

The room suddenly shrinks inward. Something icy and unseen grabs at Kinich’s heart and yanks until a struggling gasp is ripped from his lungs. The vase on the windowsill tips and cracks against the wall, shards skittering across the floor and water splashing against the backs of his calves. It’s shockingly cold, shooting shivers up his back and fraying his nerves.

Someone is screaming. His mother.

“Kinich?”

A faint voice reaches his ears, but he ignores it in favor of the thoughts pounding around his skull. The memory of his father’s corpse hangs at the edges of his mind. He looks back to the mirror, fingers curling into his hair, scratching at his scalp.

The blond streak is still there.

He sees his mother, begging and screaming, bruises littering her skin. Actually, she’s not screaming at all—he still can’t remember her voice. But she’s looking at him, grasping at his feet, and her lips are moving but he can’t hear—

“Kinich? Are you there?”

His hair—his father—seems to leap out at him, bursting from the mirror and grasping at his neck. The pressure leaves him scrambling to breathe. He thinks of the cliff, of his choice.

Echoes of footsteps pad down the hall, and he panics.

No, no. You’re going to see him, and you’re going to know what he’s done. You’re going to look at him with disgust and fear, and you’re going to leave. He hadn’t been enough back then, and he still isn’t now—no matter what he tries, nothing changes.

It’s your fucking fault! This is all your fault!

Another voice roars in his head, the hatred almost palpable with each syllable.

He clutches at his chest, desperately feeling for the heartbeat there—he feels like he’s dying, rotting from the inside out. His hand slams against the wall, nails digging painfully into the wood, clawing.

“Kinich?!”

Your voice comes again, more panicked now. You can probably hear the chaos from outside.

There’s no time.

He seizes the blond lock in his left hand, the right scooping up a ceramic shard from the floor and holding it to his head, right near the roots of the hair. He has to get rid of it—he’s panting, mouth dry and burning at the same time.

A firm knock on the door has him halting in his tracks—only a few strands of hair catch the sharp edge of the shard, floating uselessly to the ground. His chest heaves, uneven breaths puffing from his chapped lips.

He pauses. The shard clatters to the ground next to him, dropped from his grip. Slowly, he clambers to his feet. He brushes his clothes off once, then twice, before steeling himself to face you.

When the door swings open, it’s your face that greets him.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, eyes wide with concern. Hesitant, you reach for him—your shirt rides up with the movement, revealing starch-white bandages tinged with red. You’d irritated your wound in your panic to get to him.

He almost vomits at his feet.

He catches your hand before it reaches his cheek. He doesn’t deserve your comfort right now—maybe he never did. But your gaze is still so fond, so soft, as it falls upon his face.

“You haven’t been sleeping well,” you murmur, lacing your fingers with his. A faint frown paints your lips, wrought with worry. The thought is almost ridiculous—you both have only been worrying about each other all this time. “What’s going on?”

And Kinich knows he should tell you. He should do a lot of things when it comes to you. He should tell you he’s sorry for everything he’s put you through, that he knows he’s not good enough for you right now but he hopes to be, that he hopes you’ll wait for him to be that person. 

But he doesn’t say any of that.

Instead, he lets a deep, shuddering breath escape him. The only way to repay everything you’ve given him over the years is to be strong. If he can protect you, he can be useful to you.

So he takes the weakness sprouting in his chest and crushes it in his hands, letting the ashes go. He’ll bury them with this night—starting tomorrow, he won’t worry you again. 

Gently, he raises your hand to his lips, brushing over your pulse point. The steady drum of your heartbeat brings him some semblance of comfort, at least. The weight of your stare lifts from his shoulders when he meets your gaze head-on.

“I’m fine, just knocked something over,” he finally chokes out. “Let’s go back to sleep.”

/

A few days later, the whispers of a rumor begin.

The sky is still reddened with dawn when he heads out, greatsword secured to his back. It’s newly-sharpened, courtesy of you. With your range of movement limited, you don’t leave the house much these days—you pass the time by cleaning and cooking, despite Kinich’s pleas for you to remain in bed. You’re antsy to do more, even while your healing progress slowly chugs along.

The outpost is already bustling by the time he shoves the door open, slinking inside. The place usually runs rampant with work, with people searching for deliveries or other odd jobs. They seek him out often, knowing how often he visits, and he welcomes the extra Mora. 

For some people, it’s a more social place—they enjoy a drink at the small bar between deliveries, chatting and laughing. There’s one such group already here, the clink of glasses audible even this early in the morning. Kinich’s nose wrinkles in disgust at the stench of alcohol.

On the back wall is the request board, a place for people to advertise any long-term jobs. Kinich favors these sometimes, on days where the weather is better, just so he can maximize the amount of Mora he takes home. When he makes his way over, there’s already another man scrutinizing the requests. Weathered papers dot the wall, some yellowed with age, some pristine white and newly-posted.

“Hey, kid,” the man greets. It takes Kinich a moment to realize it’s him he’s referring to—he offers a short nod in reply, a bit confused. Most people are familiar with him to an extent, but rarely do they try to interact.

He just starts to read another Saurian hunting job when the man speaks again.

“That earthquake a week ago…they found some ruins in the South. Rumor has it that it’s holding some kind of awesome treasure, and no one’s quite made it through yet.”

He gives Kinich a once-over, sweeping eyes reflecting a faint respect—his reputation precedes him, apparently. Kinich shifts his weight, arms crossed, a challenge. Seemingly pleased by his confidence, the man chuckles.

“I’ve heard you’re a strong one. If you’d like, we’d have you join our party.”

Kinich regards the man with his own criteria—he looks experienced, arms criss-crossed with scars as evidence of battles long won. But even Kinich himself is still young, so he knows years don’t equal strength.

“What’s in it for me?” he sighs, feigning boredom. “For all I know, I could head in there alone and not have to split the spoils.”

The man’s smile widens, practically splitting his face.

“I like your spunk, kid. How about this, if you make it all the way down there with us, I’ll even let you have first pick.”

Kinich ponders that for a moment—it’s not a bad deal. Though it’s not his preference, working in a group can make long-term investigations like this go much faster, and he suspects that he’ll be able to assess the value of whatever treasure they find better than anyone else. In short, he’ll be guaranteed the greatest share of Mora, without using all of his own personal effort. Objectively, it wouldn’t be his worst decision.

If he can make a good amount, he can buy one of those cakes you like from the market.

Your smile would be well worth it, he thinks as he shakes the other man’s hand.

/

The dangers of the ruins had not been overstated—even halfway through the place, Kinich finds himself matted with blood and grime, muscles aching with overuse. Already, many have turned back, and as many lives have been lost. Only a few remain, those desperate enough to see the task through to the end, resting in one of the safer areas before continuing deeper toward the treasure.

Kinich reaches back, testingly feeling the stone wall behind him—it’s damp, but stable, so he leans back against it, sliding down to sit on the ground. Even down here, flowers grow through the cracks in the stone, tenacious in their bloom. It reminds him of you.

He wonders if you’re resting well, if you’d stayed in bed like you promised. 

“You got a girlfriend back home?”

He flinches at the sudden address, and he turns to see the man next to him—he can’t remember his name—smirk and nod at his bandana. He’d been thumbing at it unconsciously, the only source of comfort in this dark, stinking place.

“I know a woman’s work when I see one,” the man chuckles.

Kinich wonders if he should mention that he actually taught you how to weave, then decides against it—he doesn’t really care what this man thinks anyway. Somehow, he doesn’t feel an urge to discuss your existence with strangers.

“No, I don’t,” he replies quietly instead, and it’s the truth. There’s no title between you two, nothing to define the course of your relationship—in fact, the closest thing would be something informal, like “roommate”. The thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

The older man observes the way Kinich gnaws at his lip, bothered, before offering a comforting pat on the back. It’s a bit friendlier than Kinich is used to, but he supposes it comes with the wisdom of age—somehow, the act reminds him of Elder Leik.

“Not a girlfriend, then, but something, right?”

Something feels wrong to say—too vague, too uninvolved. When he imagines the pulsing in his chest, it’s your hands cupping his heartbeat, holding the very core of him. 

Everything would likely be a more proper term.

His teeth grit, flashing in the dark.

“Sure, something like that.”

“You should tell her, you know,” the man sighs, leaning back against the wall. Kinich wonders how the man is practically reading his mind. “At least before you get old like me.”

Kinich knows he’s a bit more mature than other people his age, a result of his upbringing. And usually, it can be an advantage—he’s independent and self-sufficient, unlike most others. But it’s times like these that he wishes he would’ve lived a normal life, going to school and playing until dusk fell. Social skills have never been his strong suit, and he often finds himself saying the wrong things.

He can’t afford to do the wrong thing anymore when it comes to you.

It’s always been entirely unintentional, but these days, he can’t seem to do anything but hurt and disappoint you. And now you’re at home, alone, while he goes out and risks his life. Briefly, he ponders what would happen if he never made it home.

Would you cry? Would you move on?

Would you find someone else?

It’s hard for him to imagine a version of himself that doesn’t have you by his side. 

He wants to keep it that way. 

He really, really likes your smile.

Kinich finally turns to face the man next to him, jaw clenched with determination. The man smirks, seemingly expecting that reaction.

“Got somethin’ to say, kid?” he asks, raising a brow.

Kinich nods, staring down at his hands. 

“After this,” he affirms, more to himself than anyone else. “After this, I’ll tell her.”

/

And, as always, Kinich finds himself alone. 

He can’t exactly say what had happened to the others—then again, he hadn’t tried to look. Monsters seemed to leap at him from every turn, and he couldn’t focus on much more than his own survival. 

On his way back out of this place, he’s sure he’ll come across their bodies one way or another. He’ll try to give them a half-proper burial, he thinks. 

The ruins descended far further than he had expected—a pulsing warmth seems to emanate from this place, layering sweat over his forehead. A heady scent of smoke lies thick in the air, rising toward the unseen ceiling. Kinich has to be careful with his steps—the place is so weathered and worn, he fears that the floor might give out beneath him.

He isn’t sure what he expected to see at the bottom. Treasure doesn’t usually appear in cartoonish chests filled with shining gold coin, after all. But when he inspects the ruins around him, all he finds are pale stone walls with a single pedestal in the center.

Cautiously, he approaches, eyes sweeping for danger. If the treasure is something truly valuable, it wouldn’t be out of the question for it to be booby trapped in one way or another. But he walks up, each step light and gentle, and nothing happens.

He sheathes his sword, peering down at the treasure laying over the smooth stone. 

It’s a wristband, thick and engraved with a language he can’t understand.

The style of it is different than most he’s seen—somehow, it looks a bit more modern. But even historical fashion items don’t tend to sell for too much, he thinks in disappointment. 

Essentially, he’d wasted his time coming down here.

He picks up the wristband, inspecting the design of it. Then, tentatively, he slides it on.

A burst of heat cracks through the air.

“Who dares disturb the Dragonlord K’uhul Ajaw?! Speak now, mortal, or I’ll pound your puny face in!”

A tiny, yellow, pixelated dragon bursts forth, and Kinich’s jaw just about drops. 

Treasure comes in many forms, of this he is sure, but this seems to be more of a burden than anything.

It—no, K’uhul Ajaw—whirls on him in apparent rage. Kinich can’t really tell with the ridiculous sunglasses sitting on his face.

“Hey, I’m talking to you! Is there a brain in that puny head of yours, or are you just deaf?”

Kinich sighs. Whoever had started this whole rumor must be having a great laugh at his expense.

“I can hear you,” he replies monotonously. “I just don’t particularly want to talk to you.”

Ajaw grows angrier. Kinich wonders if it’s just his default state.

“Then why did you come all the way down here? Are you stupid?!”

“Well, I was told there was some sort of powerful artifact here,” Kinich admits. He glances toward the ceiling, gauging how long it’ll take him to climb out of this place. “But it seems that they lied.”

Ajaw reddens in rage. “I’ll have you know that I am that artifact! My awesome power is beyond anything your mortal mind could possibly hope to comprehend!”

Kinich thinks it’s obvious why this dragon would’ve gotten locked in these ruins for so long—his personality is loathsome. Whoever sealed Ajaw likely had only done it to rid themselves of the grating sound of his voice.

Still, he can sense the deep thrum of potential within him. He’s likely not lying about having incomprehensible power.

Ajaw fixes Kinich with what he can only receive as a judgmental stare. 

“Why did you come all the way down here anyway? Are you looking for revenge? Trying to topple a nation?”

Ajaw proceeds to list a series of awful atrocities—Kinich zones out halfway through the war crimes. He’d come down here for Mora, but mostly, he’d come down here for you.

He thinks of your smile, and a pink flush washes over his face.

“I have someone I want to protect.”

It’s silent for a moment as Ajaw absorbs the implications of his explanation and the blush on Kinich’s face. Then, he laughs, a shrill sound like nails on a chalkboard.

“You come all the way down here seeking power, all to protect some puny, peasant, mortal girl—”

It’s quite an assumption, not that he’s necessarily wrong. Kinich’s jaw tightens.

“—don’t speak about her.”

A sobering chill crackles in the air, filling the cracks in the ruined stone and sinking onto his shoulders. Ajaw seems to feel it too—he hesitates at the pressure, suddenly devoid of his earlier haughtiness.

“...I see,” is all he replies, calculated.

Ajaw floats languidly towards Kinich, circling him. “Well, I’ll admit, I can sense something different about you. So, luckily for you, I’m willing to make a deal with you.”

The tone of his voice is laced with foreboding. Kinich crosses his arms, cautious.

“What kind of deal?”

Ajaw chuckles—the sound echoes hauntingly, running a chill down Kinich’s spine.

“Don’t be so scared,” he barks. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little dying.”

[superyiking]

Fluff:KAISER X FEM READER

About the content: It wasn't a good idea to go to training at night at your school, and it wasn't a good idea to go into the boys' bathroom to clean yourself up either.

"I don't have a good relationship with Michael Kaiser", that's what you thought as you felt daggers pointed at your back as you hid your head in your thick math book. Perhaps you can take refuge from your enemy's intense gazes towards you.You swallowed hard and breathed heavily, thinking that the boy behind you would leave you alone if you stopped breathing. Maybe he was just annoyed by your usually loud voice, or maybe not.

“Is he staring again?” you whispered softly, as if you were passing on secret information about your country’s betrayal to your friend who was sitting next to you and she was carelessly doing her nails. Everyone in the class was either relaxed or messing around, cause your philosophy professor was literally explaining in slow motion and no one was listening. You understood why they call him zero point five.

Your friend took her makeup mirror and tilted it at an angle to see Michel Kaiser staring at you with eyes that exuded evil and hatred.

"Yep!" She took her mirror back and put it aside and went back to tending to her nails, which were painted a simple gelatinous pink, not really caring how terrified you were.

"You bitch! What use are you as a friend if you can't rid me of this bastard?" You spoke quietly for fear that someone would hear you cursing. Unfortunately, a muffled laugh came from behind you and you turned around and noticed Bashira, completely burying his face on the table and his body shaking as if he had been electrocuted, next to him was Isagi who waved at you while he was smiling as usual, so you smiled back and gave him a candy that was hidden in the pocket of your skirt since it was not your favorite taste. He whispered, “Thank you,” and your cheeks turned red, You try to look at everything except him, but your eyes land on the boy with blond, blue hair and a strange haircut, as he looks into your eyes with the most hateful look you have ever seen. His face wrinkles and his teeth show in a grimace It sent shivers through your entire body, causing you to stand up immediately, making a noise that turned all eyes towards you.

"Can I go to the bathroom?''

You turned off the faucet with abundant flowing water, and looked at your reflection in the mirror with your wet face. You heard the bell for the last class of today ringing and a long sigh left your lungs, perhaps relieving the heaviness of the feeling in your heart.

You quickly returned to class and took your bag that your friend had packed while she was waiting for you to leave with her. You apologized and said that you would stay this evening to practice some new moves for the cheerleading team, and she understood the matter.

You waved at her and her figure moved away into the corridor with the rest of the student bodies eager to leave the hell of school. Summer and vacation were coming after two weeks.

You took your training supplies and clothes and went to the hall designated for the cheerleading team, which is the same as the basketball hall. Your high school had two fields, the second was for football since this school is known for training the best players.

Time passed quickly and you did not feel it for a moment because all you were thinking about were those burning blue eyes of him only. Did Kaiser hate you that much? You never communicated with him, fought, or even spoke badly about him? So why?

Your memory brought you back to your first meeting with him, which was in your second year after changing high school.

You were a new student there and you didn't know anyone. Your best friend was studying here, but she always took her first week carelessly and was absent from school the whole time. You were very confused, as this high school was big and you had no knowledge of its paths, so you kept wandering around, shy to ask someone about the way.

All the students, boys and girls, were exchanging hugs and conversations. In the midst of all that noise, you were alone, walking with languid steps and passed by a group of enthusiastic boys, as if they were wrestling. One of them imitated a punch to his friend, who was surprised by it and almost fell had the other to caught him. On the other hand, you were behind him and his bad luck passed on to you, which led to him pushing you from your back and falling like an idiot on the person in front of you.

''Aaaaah!!" Your shout rang throughout the corridor and everyone turned to what the sound was.

You had closed your eyes tightly before you fell, so you opened them very slowly, cursing inside yourself for the embarrassment you caused on your first day, wishing that time would stop and you would hit the wall with all your might, hoping that you would cure your anger.

"Eeeettt, this was so painfull !" You said as you kneeled on your painful knees before opening your eyes, which fell on the most beautiful face you had ever seen before. In front of you, a disturbed and shocked face faced you, its pink lips parted and The most beautiful A degree of blue was trapped inside those widened eyes. You froze completely, your lips trembling from extreme embarrassment, so your face became red after you noticed the position you were in while you were sandwiched between his long legs and everyone’s eyes were staring at both of you.

"I'm so sorry!, I'm really sorry!" You shouted these words, stuttering over some letters, before you quickly got up and fled the place. Ignoring all those frivolous voices talking about you, including the boy who was amazed by what he just saw, as if you were a creature from another world.

You tried to bury the disturbing memory of you away in your mind's graveyard of dead memories, but it would only come back to you every time you went to sleep or met Kaiser from time to time, barely because he was studying with you during your final year.

In the second year, you were lucky to be placed in a different class than his, thus avoiding constant embarrassment for a full nine months and free laser eyes that left marks on your back.

You remember when you ran away at that moment and entered one of the empty classrooms and called directly to your friend who had woken her up from her summer slumber, speaking so quickly that she could not comprehend a single word, to tell you that she would be there when she finished getting ready.

When she came and told her what had happened her mouth hung open To give you information that this boy is one of the best players in the school and is promised to join the national team for boys under twenty years old.

You did not really know that your subconscious mind had tied up many threads that were previously organized and tied them up even more immediately after your friend told you about that. You thought that he was a rude person who got very upset and had a sharp temper that flared up for problems. This is what comes to your mind Whenever you learned that a male was playing football and was one of the popular boys in high school, you prayed to God that night that it would not attract attention and rumors to you from his female fans, and he responded to you.

You stared at the glass ceiling of the hall, and an unusually large number of stars appeared to you in the dark blue sky.

"They look like his eyes." A faint whisper escaped your lips and your attention was drawn to the divine beauty, before you realized what you have just said and slapped your face lightly, asking yourself what nonsense you are saying now.

You wiped the sweat from your forehead with your shirt as you made the last practiced movement, deciding that that was enough for today and that it was time to leave. You poured the water bottle On your sweaty hair, so that the wetness seeped through your clothes, you collected your bag items and turned down the hall, heading towards the girls’ bathroom to wash yourself. Your hand grabbed the handle and moved it repeatedly, but it did not open.

"Oh God please don't tell me this is real not now! no!" You let go of the handle before you could broke it. You're not ready for trouble, and you've had a clean record since you entered this high school, cursing your luck.

You can't leave like this in the middle of the night when your phone's battery is dead, so you can't call your parents to pick you up, and if you walk, you'll probably catch a cold that will leave you bedridden.

You leaned against the wall, trying to think of a quick solution, before an idea occurred to you that you never knew would explain what you had been blind to notice.

You looked right and left while you were on the doorstep of the boys’ bathroom. You were sure that the hallway and the place were empty. You quickly took off your dirty clothes. You pulled your arms back to open your bra. It fell to the floor and then you hid it in the bag. You raised your torso and While you closed it, you decided to stay in your underwear and then remove it later.

Your intuition at that moment told you to turn around, and you did so only to find your alleged enemy standing in front of the door, his eyes wide open.

"kyaaah!!" A terrified scream unconsciously escaped your lips, covering what was visible of your breasts in front of him. What made matters worse was that you heard mixed and loud voices outside, near the door of a group of boys. It must be the football team. My God! You never knew they planned to stay and train like you.

With quick steps and his heart almost exploding, Kaiser quickly walked towards you and took your bag. Then, while you were completely frozen, he pulled you by your arm to the shower place and opened the water tap to its maximum intensity so that drops of semi-hot water fell on everything.

A second passed and the team members started to enter the bathroom with their noise and loud conversations.

!Note! If you have a music application or the song is recorded, please play les by Childish Gambino.

"Keizer wants to quickly escape from here, as if you weren't the king of the field just a minutes before. Great performance!"Ness shouted proudly to his friend, amidst the laughter of the rest.

“Did any of you hear a girl screaming a while ago? I’m sure I did.”

Your eyes widened completely, unable to believe the situation you were in now Kaiser wraps his strong arms around the wall that presses your back, wishing it would swallow you whole.

Kaiser completely covered your body so that neither your shadow nor your figure was visible through the curtain.

Your eyes were in constant contact that did not seem calm at all. Your lips were only two inches apart and you felt his hot breath covering your terrified breathing, he ignored his own and took his index finger to place it on your lips. You quickly felt the warmth of his hand and it sent a stinging sensation to your lips. Considering the height difference, Kaiser tilted himself so that no part of you remained visible.

You pulled your eyes away from his, who flinched in surprise at breaking your eye contact, and his eyes moved to the same direction as yours, who was staring at your completely exposed breasts in front of him. You felt your sockets getting wet and tears falling in a straight line with the streams of water flowing over you both increased the temperature of your bodies, especially your lower ones. Your legs were connected to his due to your slight leaning against the wall.

Kaiser noticed the whites of your eyes that were as red as your face, the trembling of your lips and the biting of them made him feel very bad for every silly second he stared at your chest. He looked away and cursed under his breath for his impudence, while you took your palm to cover your sobs.

Your whole body trembled and you tried to stop yourself from crying, when someone almost pulled the curtain that covered you both to make a joke with Kaiser.

“I'm warning you! Move it, and you'll die at my hands.” Kaiser's harsh voice rang out in the bathroom as he held The end of the curtain is at the top, preventing whoever was about to remove it and exposing both of you in this situation that you will not be able to justify no matter what happens.

The hand that was about to do so stopped and his shadow moved away. Minutes passed and most of them started to leave and only a few remained. You prayed inside yourself that this would go well, and you closed your eyes tightly. You did not know that he had come closer to you Until his chin was right above the top of your head, restraining his thoughts and demons that were telling him to pull back the curtain and show you both to others so that rumors would spread that you were his and the scoundrels would stop sending you confessions. On the other hand, his angels have warned him about this and appealed to him to protect your reputation, which will be destroyed, and the end of the year is nearby.

"I HOPE NOBODY CATCHE US, BUT I KINDA HOPE THEY CATCH US."

Your tears finally stopped after one last hard effort from you. You rubbed your eyes, which were burning with salty tears, before your gaze fell on Kaiser's six-pack muscles visible through the fabric of his wet white training shirt, the blue rose tattoo wraps from his back and arm all the way to his neck. Your eyebrows furrowed In complete confusion, all of this went away when you felt his firm hand moving your wet hair strands away from your face. You raised your eyes up to be met with the view of the midnight sky and the burning stars far away in its depths.

You opened your mouth until your front teeth showed. Oh! if you knew how much he wanted to kiss you at that moment! your cuteness ate his heart just as you stole his mind the first time he saw you. He never knew that a day would come when his heart would have something other than the ball, and surprisingly! it was a person. This put him in a state of complete denial when he felt his heart pumping blood like the excitement has never done on the field. Gradually, he began to realize that the constant pain in his heart, which had put him in a complete state of delirium and insomnia for days on end, still continued whenever his eyes met yours, even for a second was called love. He dreamed of you countless times, and he truly wondered if you were doing the same. His curiosity prompted him to search the net for a long time until he came to the conclusion that if he dreamed about you, it means that you were thinking about or missing him, and in fact! You had dreamed of him several times, waking you up completely sweating in your bed alone and your needy femininity was pulsing with such force, that it prompted you to drag your fingertips and caress your swollen clit while you moaned his name several times. Sometimes you wished he were there to relieve you of the weight of his influence on you, but it was completely impossible since you kept thinking that he hated you.

With the last two people gone and Kaiser making sure that the sound of their footsteps was far away from the bathroom, you quickly pushed Kaiser, who deliberately stepped back to make space for you to get dressed as quickly as possible, not caring for a single moment if you were completely wet.

You passed the doorpost before stopping and turning to Kaiser, who looked like an abandoned cat, balling his fists tightly and his chest rising and falling, truly afraid as to whether or not you had heard the drumbeat of his heart, just before or not.

"Thank you, Kaiser. I will never forget this favor of yours."

Before Kaiser could say a word that he desperately wanted to say to you, you had completely disappeared, leaving the chaos destroying his being. You did not attend high school, neither tomorrow nor the day after, and this was the last time he could see you from that close.

Finished •́⁠ ⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠,⁠•̀♡♡

You can write to me about requests for stories you want with Blue Lock characters

BYE💘qwq

[mellifluous1melodies1]

Playing Pretend

Before Sylus I didn’t even LOOK at another love interest in LND. Obviously, that has changed. 

Warnings: Smut, Guns, Fighting, Slight blood mention, light choking, 

Synopsis: You and Sylus go to a black market ball in the N109 Zone where together you must retrieve the other half of the Aether core before someone else does. The success from your mission allows you to finally resonate with Sylus. 

A/N: *Loosely based off the Roleplay chapter with Sylus. MC is black afab but you can change the appearance as you like. I just figured I’d write for someone who looks like me since its hard to find on here :) Please like and or repost if you enjoy this! That way I can write more if people are interested in reading this. *

______________________________________________________________

The mirror in the dimly lit room captures the uneasy expression plaguing your face. The night grew darker and you hadn’t moved from the spot before the mirror, staring at the ball gown that clung to your body. A long breath escapes between your lips as you hold your curly hair up in a makeshift bun on the top of your head. Dissatisfied, you let it down, letting your hair cascade down your bare back as you try several different styles to better flatter the gown Sylus had made for you. Your fingers play with the crimson lace and black embroidery that decorated it, highlighting her curvy figure. 

Sylus’ presence is felt before you even notice him standing behind you in the mirror. “You wear it well.” His low voice reverberates through the room. He towers over you, straightening his matching suit, studying his reflection as well as your own. The perfectly tailored suit matched him perfectly, exuding his intense aura and power as his fingers shifted a stray piece of his silver hair from his face.“The limo is ready. As am I."His voice had a hint of impatience despite trying to hide it.

“The door was locked.” You grumbled in response, still playing around with your hair. 

“It’s my house. Nothing’s ever really locked.” He leans close to your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. 

“What’s the plan exactly?” You turn with a heavy sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. 

In his hand was a long pistol, one of Sylus’ own guns that rivaled your very own. “Keep this with you. I’ll tell you the plan when we get there.” 

Your eyes look up at him then back at the long pistol. Carefully, you take the weapon, slipping on the safety as you walk over to the king sized bed. You lift your leg onto the ottoman at the food of the bed, lifting your dress from the ground until your honey thighs peeked out at him. Sylus’ ruby eyes trail up and down your long legs, him watching you clip the gun to your thigh holster. You hide your legs back under your gown once you were sure the gun was safely attached. “How am I supposed to fight in a dress like this?”You quizzed, ruffling the hem.  

“Not everything needs to end in a fight, sweetie.” Sylus winks. 

“I am a hunter, unless you forgot. And you still haven’t told me the plan. You don’t have one do you?” You narrow your eyes at him, the soft lighting in the room only illuminating half his face, but you could still read him like a book. 

“I have a plan.” He states, clearing his throat and fixing the tie around his neck. “You just need to follow my lead.” Exiting the room, Sylus stops right by you, leaning forward as he looks right into your eyes. His eyes stare through yours, lingering for a moment before they fall down onto your figure one last time. When he looks back up at you again, he stands up straight. “Wear your hiar up. You can show off your earrings.” He suggests, before leaving the bedroom, shutting the grand doors behind him. 

 ****

“Nice plan!” Your sass rings through the now empty ballroom, painted red with the blood of your enemies. The once extravagant ball had now been cleaned out with tables knocked over and bullet holes decorating the walls and dead bodies. Your heeled foot was perched on the still body of a man in an all white suit, a red stain erupting from his chest. The barrel of your gun was smoking as it pointed at the top railings of the ballroom, where you successfully shot a man down from the high angle. 

“Yeah, well he wasn’t supposed to be here.”On the other end of the ballroom, Sylus stood from his kneeled position, checking the pulse of the man he just knocked out underneath a fallen chandelier. “We need to go. Now!” Sylus’ voice was hurried, almost panicked as he pulls out a lighter from the dead man’s pocket. Quickly, he flicks a small flame to life, pressing it against the giant curtains that covered the blacked out windows. A fire erupts almost instantly, spreading through the grand hall before you could even object. 

“But the aether core!” You watch Sylus as he storms towards you, grabbing you by the waist as he leads you towards the doors where all the remaining survivors fled. 

“We got it!” He tells you through gritted teeth. “Kieran and Luke will take care of it. We just need to get out of here.” He glances down at you, checking you briefly for any injuries.

Sylus guides you to the front entrance where a black limo screeches to a stop at the bottom of the diamond staircase. With his hand on the small of your back, Sylus opens the last door for you, letting you crawl inside as he intensely watches your surroundings. Before he could even shut the door with you both inside, the limo takes off at high speeds down the roads back to the mansion. 

“How did that go so wrong?” You managed to catch your breath, counting your remaining two bullets in his gun that you never loosened your grip on. 

The last thing you remembered before the fight ensued was a man with a heavy entourage interrupting your waltz with Sylus. The annoying guests and bright lights began to blur as you two enjoyed a quiet dance to the string band that played for the guests. 

Sylus only took his eyes off you when the small moment of peace disappeared when a man in an emerald green suit joined the party, six guards in all white suits following him closely. Sylus was able to spot more white suits high up in the balconies, standing with her hands holding something concealed on their hips. “We may have trouble.” Sylus whispers into your neck. 

“Wha” Before you could even ask for further clarification, Slyus spun you away into the arms of a stranger to approach the man in the green suit. 

Uninterested in your new dance partner, you leave him to stand by the drink table to watch them chat for a while. The conversation seemed tense from the distance you stood on the dance floor, but Sylus made sure to give you a soft glance every once in a while to ensure your safety from the people around you. 

Then, everything flipped like a switch. 

When your back was turned. One of the guards in the white suits had placed his hand on your soldier, whispering too close to you for comfort. “Come with us and no one will get hurt.”

At the sight of his hand touching you, the room erupted into havoc as Sylus began to beat and kill anything that stood in his path that threatened to harm you. 

And now you were barely escaping, unscathed in his limo back to his mansion. “How did that go so wrong?” You racked your brain for an answer. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong. He just showed up…even I couldn’t have predicted that.” 

“Who’s he?” 

“My old partner.” Sylus admits, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “He knew I was coming here tonight…” 

“Your old…partner?” You wait for clarification. “Are you enemies now? What happened?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” he huffs. “We got the core and we’re both alive. That alone is something to celebrate.” You slouch in the backseat of the limo, finally able to breathe when the vehicle pulls up to Sylus’ mansion. You reach for the door, when he grabs your wrist, stopping you. “Wait…”You hear the doors lock.  

“What?” You grunt, having enough of being grabbed for one night. 

“Just stay…” he requests. “I just wanna enjoy the presence of a pretty girl in a pretty dress for a little while longer.” Sylus admits, his voice softer than ever in a hushed tone. He wipes his gun clean with a handkerchief, closing his eyes to bask in the silence. 

****

The night led you both to the balcony of Sylus’ bedroom. He finally had bid you goodnight, but your feet carried you to his bedroom where he overlooked the n109 zone from his bedroom. A town where daylight never seemed to reach and where darkness always seemed to follow those who lived there. 

The moonlight cast a silver glow over him, highlighting his built figure. He didn’t move when he heard his bedroom door open, but you knew he was aware of your presence. Still in your gown from the night, you touch Sylus’ back, a small greeting to let him know you had joined him on the terrace. He leaned forward onto the railing not speaking a word until you opened your mouth first. 

“I thought I locked my door.” Sylus interrupts you, making you forget what you were going to say to him. 

“You said so yourself. Nothing is ever really locked in here.” You smirk, leaning against the balcony railing. 

“Surprised you’re not asleep.” He states, taking a peek at you still wearing your gown. 

You shrug. “How could I? My adrenaline is still pumping from tonight.” You admit. “Plus…I wanted to know where you wanted me to leave your dress.” Your fingers play in the ruffles of the gown. 

“Keep it. It looks better on you than it will on me.” Sylus chuckles lightly in the night. 

“You saying I look pretty?” With a smug smile, you twirl in the dress, waiting for a response from him. 

With a gleam in his eyes he watches you spin, standing up straight to elimnate more space between the two of you. “Beautiful.” he corrects. “It’s a shame the night was ruined with a gun fight.” 

“It wasn’t ruined.” you tell him. “Pretending with you was fun…before all the shooting and explosions.” You hide a smile, tucking a loose curl behind your ear. 

“I know.” Sylus adds, “Turns out you’re a great actress. Thought about kissing you at one point to really seal the deal.” He eyes turn to overlook the gloomy city again, hiding his flushed cheeks. 

“Why didn’t you?” You cock your head to the side, this time, you stepping closer to him. 

“I didn’t want everyone to see you slap me in the middle of the ballroom floor.” He admits, scratching the back of his head. 

“I wouldn’t have…I probably would’ve let you.” You clear your throat, fearful of the words you just let slip your lips. 

“Probably?” he teases. 

“Would’ve.” You correct. 

“What about now?” Sylus’ voice drops to a whisper as he steps forward, his fingertips slowly tracing circles on your exposed shoulders. His eyes searched yours for any clue of hesitation, but only found the mirrored look of desire. Slowly, Sylus’ hand reaches to your face, his long fingers caressing your cheek as the moonlight dances against your skin. Your heart flutters at his touch as the air between you crackles in anticipation. 

Your fingers find his waist, testing the waters as you pull his body against yours. Scared that his words would ruin the moment, Sylus just listened to the sound of his own heart beating viciously as he stared into your eyes. A sudden wave of bravery entered his body and Sylus longed to feel his lips on yours. He intertwines your fingers with his, “Your hands are shaking. You’re not terrified of me, right?” He teases, your eyes dark with lust. Without taking another second to hesitate, Sylus finally presses his lips to yours, both of your eyes closing at the same time. Your mouths move together in a sense of tenderness and urgency, unsaid words and emotions pouring out into the kiss. Desperately, you pull him in closer, using the small window of opportunity of when he looked down at you to catch a breath. 

Your hands move up towards his face, your small fingers tracing shapes along his jawline. You crash your lips onto his, sliding your tongue in between his lips, swirling them around each others. With Sylus greedy hands sliding up and down your back now, he discovers the zipper on the back of your dress, yanking it down. 

The sleeves begin to fall off your shoulders and you pull back to catch your breath. Slyus uses this moment to kiss on your neck and shoulders allowing you to pull down your own dress as you start to kiss him down to his growing length through his slacks. 

“Someone’s eager.” His velvety voice causes shivers to run down your spine. 

“Why don’t you give it a kiss?” Sylus  suggests, allowing you to unzip his dark slacks to free him from his briefs. 

You stick out your tongue right as he springs into your face. Not letting his size intimidate you, you let your tongue roll along his shaft, testing the waters with his girth. As you pull your head back, your tongue caresses his tip, causing him to grip onto your bun at the overwhelming sensation. A wince leaves his mouth and his eyes cut down at you. He guides your mouth onto his dick as you slide nearly his entire length into your mouth, gagging as his tip hits the back of your mouth. He couldn’t help but chuckle as his fingers wrap around your curls in your hair, the sound of your gagging causing him to smile. “That’s it…” He growls as you bob your head up and down his length, covering his dick with your slob. Your eyes slowly trail up to find his, filled with a gleam of passion. “I love when you look up at me with those pretty eyes.” His lips curl upward into a smile as he tosses his head back, you taking his inches into your mouth. 

“Yeah?” you release his length from your mouth with a pop, knowing when you responded it drove him crazy. 

“Oh, kitten.” Sylus begins to rub his hands along his own chest as you brought him closer and closer to the edge. “You know that beautiful mouth makes me aggressive…” Using your bun, he begins to shove you face farther and farther down his shaft, causing you to emit a loud gagging sound whenever he touches the back of your throat. “You wanna make me cum?” He raises an eyebrow, waiting for your doe eyes to meet his.  His voice was husky and deep as he spoke down to you, almost enough to make you cum already. 

“Yes,” You beg, your own spit dripping down your chin as you try and pump the remainder of his length your mouth couldn't reach with your hands. 

“Yes?” His voice teases, causing your pussy to drip more from just speaking to you. “Yes, what?” He waits for clarification. 

“Yes, sir.” You correct, taking the moment to breathe as he lets you release his dick from your mouth. Your glossy eyes meet his and Sylus forces you to your feet but simply touching your chin with his pointer finger. His hands wipe the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes. Your lips snatch his in a deep kiss again and Sylus begins to slip out of his shoes and his slacks. With his hands now exploring your body, Slyus begins to caress your thighs, jumping up for him to catch you. Your legs wrap around his waist, you completely falling out of your dress. With careful steps, Sylus guides you into his bedroom, leaving the balcony doors open to allow the night breeze to cool you both off. 

You sit yourself up on your elbows as he tosses you onto the bed, freeing your hair from your updo. You watch him bite down on his lip, fully encapsulating your almost naked body posing before him. Seductively, you unclasp your bra, letting your breasts free, allowing him to take a longer look at your figure. Teasing him, you carefully draw around his abs with your bare feet, waiting for him to finish undressing before he joins you on the California king. 

Sylus nearly crashed onto the bed, planting kisses all over your body. One by one, he takes your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them and sucking on them until you moan from the pleasure. Your fingers get lost in his silver hair as you await for the moment your lips meet his again.

That moment only lasted so long before Sylus found himself peppering you with open mouth kisses down your chest and to the hemline of your lace underwear. “May I kiss you here?” He requests. 

“Please.” You breathe, squirming under his touch. 

“Please?” Sylus raises an eyebrow at you. “Never knew you were one to beg.” 

No problem for him, he presses a kiss right on top of the lace, before sliding his finger underneath the underwear to grant himself access. His warm tongue licks a strip down your labia, causing you to not only gasp at the sudden contact but also curse aloud. “Shit…” Sylus nearly buries his lips into your pussy, sucking hard on your clit and momentarily rolling circles around it with his tongue. “With his eyes closed, he devours your pussy, praising your taste with every chance he got as he made you feel good from just his tongue. 

His hands find his way up unto your breasts, sliding underneath your bra to play with your hard nipples, arousing you further. “Fuck you taste so good…” he moans, switching to kitten licks on your already swollen clit. 

Abruptly, you sit up, watching him from above as he works to make you cum.You pull at his hair, gasping as butterflies begin to enter your stomach as your breath quickened. Sylus slips one finger into your entrance, curling it forward to further apply pressure to your g spot. “Fuckkk…Sy, I don’t know what you’re doing but keep doing it.” You beg him, him smirking at the sudden nickname. Gripping at the sheets, you beg for Sylus to continue to his speed patterns as he focuses to make you cum. The overwhelming euphoric experience stole her words from her, but her moans were more than enough to use as fuel to keep Sylus going. 

“Don’t cum yet, sweetie.” Sylus’ voice was in your ear now as he removes his face from your heat. He places his body right on top of you, carefully sliding his tip up and down your slit as he hums in your ear. You whimper as his length enters you, nearly bulging from outside your stomach. He smirks, burying himself deep inside you before nearly pulling out completely. “I love that noise you make.” He kisses your forehead, as you desperately pine for his lips again. Again, slowly, he thrusts himself into you, causing you to moan underneath his touch, every thrust making you weaker and weaker to him. Your knees buckle as he playfully hits your g spot. “You feel me right here..?” His tip causes your body to fly upwards, nearly crashing your faces together. 

Sylus grabs your wrists, pinning you down onto the bed. “Aht. Aht.” He smacks his tongue. “You can handle it…” his low sultry voice convinces you as your body shakes with his throbbing dick inside you. “See? You take me so well.” he praises, listening to your whimpers that fell from your pouty lips directly into his ears. From even the smallest touch, your eyes roll back at the pleasure he brought you from simply pumping in and out of your pussy. “Keep moaning for me. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.” Sylus instructs, lifting your legs over his shoulders as he deepens himself inside you,despite you thinking he couldn’t go any further. 

Your nails dig into his back as you reach between your bodies to finger your throbbing clit. “Did I say you could touch yourself?” Sylus removes your hand from your box, pinning it back up onto the pillows as he thrusts harder into you. “God…you feel so good.” Instead, his hand finds himself flicking your clit in a way that made you moan louder than you were before. “You like that?” He questions, his eyes opening to peek at the pleasure written on your face. When you don’t answer, he grows annoyed, repeating the question. “Talk to me.”He sings, his fingering gets faster and stronger with his thrusts. “Answer me, kitten.” 

Your walls squeeze around him as you threaten to cum soon. Forcing out just even a small sentence, you manage to answer him, “Y-yes…I like it-” Your hands search for anything to grab onto you, until you finally find his shoulders. They ground you and evidently pull your body even closer to his in a way neither of you thought was possible.

“You’re easy to please.” His voice rasps as his own moans get louder and louder the closer he brought you both to your orgasms. His hands manage to cover each one of your ass cheeks as he spreads them apart, thrusting deeper and deeper into you. “I can feel you getting ready to cum all over me…” Sylus manages out between his heavy moans as he pumps faster and faster.“Fine. I’ll be generous and let you cum first.”His own pleasure caused his voice to waver slightly. “Tell me when.” he orders, using his hand that isn't satisfying your clit to force you to look up at him. His red eyes gleamed as he maintained eye contact with you.  You want to pull at his hair, but your hands find themselves intertwining with his. 

“I’m gonna cum…” Your legs threaten to close as your orgasm creeps out of you, causing you to scream his name louder, unafraid if anyone else inside the mansion hears. “Sylus! I’m cumming! ” His hands slam together with yours, tightening your grip as a white light begins to wisp between your palms together as you finally are able to resonate with him in this intimate moment. With heavy shallow breaths Sylus continues to pump his length in and out of you as your body begs to be freed, your orgasm spreading through your body in jerky movements. 

With you already riding your orgasm, he uses your overstimulated pussy to bring himself to the edge. He kisses your neck, sending his head flying back as his eyes roll. “You’re gonna make me cum…” he tells you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips and bringing one of his hands to your throat, only tightening his grip slightly. The slapping sounds of your thighs echo throughout the bedroom as you pull on his hair, begging for a breather. Your eyes lock together, your foreheads pressing together. “Look at me when I cum…” he begs, just as desperate as you seemed when your orgasm fought its way out of you. His voice rasps as he gushes out thick, creamy ropes inside of you. With his body convulsing on top of yours, his eyes never leave yours as his orgasm rips through him. “Take it. Take it!” Too weak to pull out of you, he lets his load fill you up inside as he screams your name into his neck. His cums creep down his shaft from inside your pussy lips as he carefully pulls out from inside of you. His breathing has evened out as he slumps onto you on top of the sheets. With deep kisses and some incoherent mumbling in between, Sylus was finally able to pull out of you completely. His sheets become drench in his cum as well as yours as he caresses your sweaty thighs, pressing kisses to them as he soothes you. “You’re shaking…you can relax now.” He hums, kissing your head and holding you to his chest. 

Sylus takes you in his arms, lying you both down onto his bed. Petting your head and tracing shapes on your sweating body, he manages to calm you along with the song of his heartbeat into your ear. 

“Maybe we should play pretend more often.” You suggest, kissing his toned chest as his breathing had finally stilled. 

“Oh, kitten.” His hands play with your fingertips. “You’re getting more and more interesting.” Sylus admits before pulling you on top of his naked body, sliding himself inside you once more. 

[mopeyy]

Heavy Goodbyes

Avatar Frontiers of Pandora (SPOILERS!!!)

A quick lil one shot while waiting for the results of the poll

Nor x Na'vi! reader

Angst

"You can't just run off after stabbing alma Nor!"

"Leave y/n. I don't want to talk about it."

You shook your head. How could he act this way? How could he just run off after what happened? You decided to take a different approach, a softer one to try and calm him down.

"I know what she did was horrible but-"

He cut you off,

"Horrible? She betrayed us y/n. She betrayed all of us. To believe she was ever on our side," he scoffed, "What a traitor. As much as she wants to believe it she will never be one of us."

He was upset and it was easy to tell. His ears were pinned to his head and his brows were furrowed. He was pacing back in forth, clenching and unclenching his fist to sooth himself. Even though you agreed with his statement part of you was still upset.

"So does that give you the right to run away? We're all struggling Nor but that doesn't mean you can close yourself off and push everyone away."

When you said this he stopped his pacing and turned to face you. He walked towards you and you took a step back. He was really angry and in full honesty, seeing him like this scared you. He leaned in close and started to speak.

"I don't need the right. We are free now are we not? I can do what I please. Maybe I just don't want to be somewhere that constantly surrounds me with humans and their technology."

"But they are our allies Nor-"

"They are humans all the same. I don't care whose 'side' they're on. Before they were on our side they were with the RDA. If you want to trust them fine. But i'm leaving."

You're lips parted in shock. He was leaving?

"Nor, you can't be serious.."

All he gave you was a nod. Confirming that he was set on his plan.

You reached your hand out and placed a hand on his arm.

"You can't leave, we all need you here. Teylan has already left, we can't lose you too Nor. I can't lose you."

You pleaded with him. Your eyes started to gloss with tears and your grip on his arm tightened.

He stared at you with an unfamiliar look in his eye. He seemed hesitant for a moment before he placed his hand on top of yours.

"You don't have to lose me." he whispered.

You let a small smile pass over your face, a glint of hope in your eyes.

"Does this mean you'll stay?"

He softly shook his head and took a step closer, getting rid of all space between you two.

"No, y/n, I'm...I'm saying come with me."

Your eyes widened, "what?" You mumbled. How could he ask you to leave?

He placed his other hand on the side of your face, tracing the stripes on your cheek with his finger.

"Come with me. We can explore Pandora and be truly free. Please yawntutsyìp."

You paused. You didn't know what to say.

The weight of Nor's gaze was heavy, a mix of determination and a plea for understanding. You could see the wildness of Pandora reflected in his eyes, the untamed beauty that he yearned to return to. But the thought of leaving everything behind, the community you had helped to build, the allies you had fought alongside, it anchored you in place with a paralyzing indecision.

Nor's voice broke through your hesitation, softer now, "I know it's a lot to ask, y/n. But out there, it's just us and the world we were born to live in. No more wars and fighting, just... freedom." His words painted a picture of a life unburdened, a dream that you had both shared once upon a time.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your next words. "And what about the fight we've been a part of? The sacrifices? Can we just turn our backs on that?" Your voice was a whisper, but it carried the weight of all the unspoken fears and responsibilities that tethered you.

He responded with a fierce intensity, "We've fought enough, y/n. We've earned the right to choose our own path. And I choose a life where I'm not defined by this conflict." Nor's hands were steady, his resolve clear, but there was a tremor in his voice that betrayed his own inner turmoil.

The silence that followed was filled with the sounds of Pandora's wildlife, a reminder of the living, breathing world. It was a siren call, tempting and sweet, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to be swept away by the possibility of it all.

Finally, you spoke, "I... I can't go with you, Nor. We have to understand that this isn't about running away. It's about choosing our own battles, and mine needs to be fought here." The disappointment in his eyes was evident,

"Please just stay." You begged, desperate, asking him one last time.

By the look in his eyes, you already knew the answer.

He leaned forward and kissed you. It was bittersweet, a culmination of your shared history, a moment that acknowledged the depth of your bond and the divergence of your paths. As Nor reluctantly pulled away, his eyes searched yours for any sign of reconsideration, but you stood firm, your decision made.

Nor's expression hardened, the vulnerability that he had briefly shown now gone. "Then this is where our paths part," he said, his voice steady but low, carrying the weight of finality.

You nodded, the tears you had fought so hard to hold back now spilling freely.

He took a step back, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned and disappeared into the lush foliage of Pandora, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the life you had chosen to keep.

[bitterkarmaa]

*SLAMS OPEN YOUR DOOR*

SO!

I got three prompt suggestions for that follow up but i couldn't decide which one SO I'LL LET YOU CHOOSE:

6. “I... I can’t believe it’s really you. I thought I’d never see you again.”

9. “...when are you coming home?”

14. “You lied!” “I didn’t lie, I omitted. There’s a difference.”

HEH yum

PT 1

PT 2

“….when are you coming home?”

-Eclipse, Blood Moon, and K͖͕̜̞̳̫̎͋C̨͙̳͚̟̤͇̳̾͑̉͒͒̂̍̏͡-

The days are…pretty fuzzy now. Eclipse is reminded of his first downfall and struggle for survival the longer he sits in this god-awful silence. It feels like a purgatory, but he knows he’s, somehow, still alive.

Some part of him wishes he wasn’t.

Some part of him wishes that the intense pain and pressure in his chest would just become too much for his systems, and let him go. Facing the others after everything that’s happened feels…impossible. A wall too high for his weakened limbs to scale.

But he knows he’ll look like a coward, disappearing after a fight like that without returning or offering any explanation. Would he even make it back to talk with the others? Is he going to be remembered as he truly is- the defensive, self-centered animatronic that pushes everyone away just enough for him to walk off and never return?

Then again, he had planned to return. He originally only wanted to be gone a few hours. He needed time to think. Needed time to reflect and maybe beat himself over the head for harming Blood Moon in the way that he did. He wouldn’t have been able to navigate a conversation without fumbling over his emotions and further escalating the situation. He knew that.

But The Star didn’t, he supposes.

It didn’t know that he planned to apologize.

It only knew that he used its power to hurt someone Eclipse considered family, and then promptly decided that he was no longer worthy if he was going to use its influence in that way.

He didn’t mean to.

But that excuse sounds childish and crude, even to his own egotistic mind. It would mean nothing in a heartfelt apology.

The door across the expansive room he sits in creaks open, promptly closing behind the lengthy figure that enters. He narrows his eyes tiredly, not quite conscious enough for a full reaction, much less an offhand remark about their entrance.

For a moment, all is still. It stays beside the door, stiff and lax all at the same time, one hand still resting upon the rusted metal surface of the entryway. Eclipse waits. He doesn’t say anything. What is there to say, really?

Finally, piercing red eyes turn in his direction, hand falling away from the door in a lazy, careless manner.

“…when are you going to let me go?” Eclipse asks quietly after a bit of simply staring back into the eyes that follow his every move. He doesn’t have to speak very loudly- the room is large, and echoes almost as well as the atrium. He knows raising his voice any louder would…anger it.

“Not keeping you here.” It replies, tone full of disdain as it steps further into the room, movements stiff and sluggish. Eclipse tenses as it gets closer.

“You’re not letting me out, either.” He bites back, pressing himself up against the wall as it kneels before him, staring vacantly into his eyes for a moment before turning its attention to the cable currently shoved in Eclipse’s chest.

“Get up and leave. Be my guest.”

Eclipse’s expression turns sour at its undeniable sarcasm, eyes narrowing apprehensively. He moves to shove its hand away as it leans closer, claws reaching out to the cable with careful precision. Through the darkness, he can see its gaze sharpen, those wretched black dots coming to life in its eyes, focused in on him. He pulls his hand away, letting it do what it pleases with him.

Trying to stop it would be pointless, anyways. A waste of energy, if anything.

Faded stars adorn torn sleeves, hiding the rust and peeling paint of its paneling beneath. The sharpened edge of it’s remaining faceplate glitters hauntingly in the half-light, the mechanisms on the exposed side running quietly despite their obvious wear.

Eclipse hisses and shoves its hand away as it prods at the hole, involuntary tears springing to his eyes at the sharp pain that flares up his neck and radiates through his body.

“Stop that! It hurts!” He snaps, forcing its hand further from the cable and hole. It lets out a low metallic snarl that makes a chill run down Eclipse’s endoskeleton, and he instantly shuts his mouth and stops pushing it away.

“It’ll always hurt. You stupid? Don’t see the gaping hole? Deadly. It should be deadly. Deadly hole that would kill you and shut that attitude up for good.” Its tone is low, filled with a warning that Eclipse hears loud and clear. He nods timidly, forcing his eyes away, instead opting to gaze down at the cold, cracked cement floor.

A sharp pain and spark sizzle through his chest, and Eclipse lets out a yelp almost instinctively, forcing down the full on scream that threatens to spill out of his mouth. It pulls its hand back, flicking it disdainfully as smoke rises from its claw tips.

Then, as the shock fades, some of the pain does, too. His sight clears a bit, some of his less vital systems starting to boot back up. He sits in stunned silence for a moment, hands frozen in midair, mouth half-open.

“Wh…what did you do?” He murmurs, glancing down at the cable and some of the disconnected wires that surround it.

“Fix.” It mutters simply, carefully rising to it’s full height shortly afterwards. It sways a slight bit, but is obviously used to the lack of balance since it compensates fairly well even so. Eclipse doesn’t quite realize this, however, and reaches up to grab at its wrist, eyes wide as if afraid it would fall.

It pulls it’s arm out of his hold. “How sweet. Don’t touch me.” It sneers, earning an embarrassed and nervous look from Eclipse. Only after it has turned and sauntered across the room towards one of the less-desolate looking corners does it speak again.

“Communications should be back online. Give them your apologies.”

Eclipse pulls his hands close to his chest, eyeing the larger and older animatronic quizzically. “What?” He asks, making the other scoff in exasperation.

“Fight you ran from. Say sorry.”

Eclipse stays silent at that, unsure of how to approach the subject, or if he truly wants to approach it at all. What would he say? Would it even matter? Would they still be angry at him? Surely, they would be. They have every reason to. He’s fairly certain that they don’t even-

“Stop thinkin’ ‘bout it and just do it.” KC snaps from across the room, slamming its hands down on the desk it’s stationed in front of. Its long claws dig into the decayed wood, splintering it easily between dangerously sharp talons.

“I don’t know what to say!” Eclipse snaps back, subconsciously bringing his hands up to fiddle mindlessly with the cable.

In the next moment, it has begun to stride back over to him, swiping his hands away from the cable with fury blazing openly in its eyes.

“Stop messing! Just talk. I’m sure they miss you.” It growls, then pauses, something unreadable flashing in its eyes. “That’s what family does. Miss each other.” Its tone loses all venom, releasing Eclipses hands with an empty glare cast in his direction.

He watches it curiously, rays shifting as it lumbers back over to the desk, sitting in the chair, purposefully facing away from its guest.

“You…really think they want to hear from me?” Eclipse murmurs softly, as if afraid of the answer. KC doesn’t miss a beat with its answer.

“Yes.”

And so, Eclipse searches through his contacts and calls- with slight hesitance- Blood Moon. He waits impatiently as the tone rings in his head, fingers dancing with each other in his amounting anxiety.

There’s a soft click, and he stiffens as silence comes from the other end of the line.

“Where are you?” Blood Moon’s voice is tight, struggling to remain calm despite the obvious edge of panic in their tone. Eclipse, again, doesn’t know what to say. In all honesty, he doesn’t know where he is. KC never told him anything when it took him here.

“I can’t say.” Eclipse’s response is half-assed at best, but he isn’t exactly lying, so he tells himself that answer will have to do.

“Why didn’t you come back?” Blood Moon’s voice looses the strain, letting some of their emotions show as their voice breaks in a way that makes Eclipse feel very ashamed.

“I couldn’t.” Eclipse murmurs, almost bashfully.

“What do you mean? What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” A flood of questions spill from Blood Moon’s mouth, laced with such intense worry that it almost shocks Eclipse into silence. His eyes dart down to the cable, the ache that resounds with each vent he takes becoming much more apparent to him.

“I’ll be okay.” He leans his head back onto the wall, closing his eyes, praying to a god he doesn’t believe in to spare his life so that he can return home. Almost as soon as the words leave his mouth does he hear Blood Moon break down into sobs on the other end.

“You ARE hurt. No, please no-“ Listening to Blood Moon shatter like a precious glass vase makes Eclipse want nothing more than to pull them close and never let them go. He already broke the promise that would’ve amended that, so he doubts they would believe him if he offered the same promise again.

“Hey, hey, I’m…like I said, I’ll be okay. I’ll be alright. Just…just calm down, Blood. I’m okay.” Eclipse struggles to get them to calm down while also avoiding breaking down himself. Their cries hurt him more than his actual injuries do.

“….when are you coming home?” Their voice shakes, words coming out in between sobs.

“As soon as I can, okay?” Eclipse murmurs gently, hopping that the silent promise behind his words won’t be broken like his last one was.

“Please come home.” Blood Moon sobs harder, begging with a desperation he hasn’t yet heard from them.

“I will, Bloody. I-“ Eclipse begins, but is cut off by a static crackle, shortly followed by Blood Moon’s voice.

“Now. We need you NOW.”

Eclipse glances over to the star that still sits silently off to the side, it’s gentle hue a convincing cover up for the violence it can enact.

“I can’t yet. I really can’t.” His words come out sorrowful, as he, too, wishes to leave and never return to this wretched room with the red eyes of a hunter constantly boring into him.

“Dad, please-“

Eclipse stays dead silent. His eyes widen. His body tenses. The air catches in his vents.

Then it all fades. The pain becomes irrelevant. The exhaustion becomes determination.

“Alright. I’m coming.” It’s more than a promise, borderline vow. A silent rule he has made himself, devoted to following through. The twins murmur something inaudible, then hang up, holding onto his words with more trust than he probably deserves.

Without even a moment to spare, he clamps his claws down onto the cable, catching KC’s attention from across the room.

“What do you think you’re-“ It challenges, though is cut off by the abrupt and rather frightening shower of sparks that pour out as the cable is torn from it’s place within Eclipse’s chest.

“𝛵𝒾m𝞎 𝓽𝔬 ց𝛐.”

As if on cue, The Star’s whispers combine into one hushed voice, shifting on the ground before sliding towards Eclipse, swirling around him like a firefly in a fantasy dream. KC moves, eyes growing wide with panic, watching helplessly as Eclipse crumples to the floor, shaking against the agony he must be experiencing.

The Star makes one more rotation around him, like the planets around the sun, before it finally dives for his chest. With a snap and click, it slides back into its place among his broken parts.

KC watches in wonder as the hole rebuilds itself from the inside out, the outer casing re-materializing like something generated in a video game. The paint on Eclipse’s paneling settles into his normal auburn and abyss, the jagged scar that crosses his chest coming back to rest in its proper place.

KC steps forwards, kneeling down to catch Eclipse as he threatens to slump forwards onto his face.

“I’m…I’m leaving, by the way…” He smiles cheekily in between deep, unsteady vents. KC’s mouth thins into a grim line, eyeing him dubiously before starting to let him go. Eclipse readies himself to have a nice kiss with the floor, as his limbs still aren’t cooperating with him due to the repairs not being fully completed, thusly still draining his energy dry.

But, to his surprise…KC puts a hand on his chest and carefully pulls him up into a sitting position, leaning Eclipse against its own chest so that he won’t topple over like a blob of jello.

Then, it crosses its legs, and sits with him.

He blinks. Once. Twice. Three times. Stunned as a duck in a frozen pond in the middle of summer.

“It’ll be about an hour.” It says simply, smiling slyly at the confused look Eclipse gives it.

“An hour for what?” Eclipse asks, narrowing his eyes.

“For the repairs to finish.” It hums, the sound rough, like nails on a chalkboard but not quite as shrill.

“An hour? How do you know?”

It smiles its twisted smile, bares its sharpened teeth, and speaks in its threatening tone.

“I helped make it.”

It raises a single claw, tapping on Eclipse’s chest.

“I made your life, and I saved it, too.” The smile somehow grows, stretching wide across the remaining parts of its faceplate, the other side’s idle mechanisms turning up in a barely noticeable reflection of where the smile would be.

“You didn’t save shit-�� Eclipse snaps, mustering all his strength to shove himself away from KC. His head spins, and then, hands grasp his shoulders, steadying him.

“Where would you be without me-“ It’s gaze sharpens. “-right now?”

Eclipse glares into the red pools that stare into his own black and orange ones. He doesn’t answer.

“S-Still in t-t-that room. S-Still….still…..” Its voice hitches, grading against itself, fading off at the end into a sea of static and sinister crackling. Its neck twitches, its eyes flicker, and then, its grip goes lax. The light fades from its eyes, replaced by darkness- nothing.

But the smile still stays.

It always does.

———

(KAJSKSKSJS AAAAAAAAA if anyone wants BM and Eclipse’s actual reunion let me know. You could also submit your own interpretations, if you’d like! I love reading how ya’ll see things :) so yah!! Angst!! Misery!! Woe of the highest accord!! Hope you enjoyed!!)

[2baabbies]

hiiii can you write for #11 with minnie from gidle where (afab) reader and minnie are good friends and reader decides to confess? Thank you!!!!!

omg of course 🫶🏻 ty for the req!

💜 picture perfect (minnie x reader) 💜

Words: 800

Fluff 🥰

afab + fem!reader

Request guidelines here!

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

The appearance of your reflection in the glass of the exhibit tells you that your cheeks are very flushed. You could feel the heat in your face since you began wandering the art gallery with Minnie, and you could only hope she stayed oblivious to the truth: that you were hopelessly in love with your closest friend. You take a glimpse at her now. She seems intensely focused on the painting before her, so you wander off to the next room.

There is more glass that allows you to tidy your hair and adjust your outfit, but the longer you stare at your reflection the more impossible it feels to make yourself look presentable. You sigh and attempt to admire the artwork, but your thoughts are lingering on Minnie the whole time.

“y/n,” Minnie’s voice rings out from behind, then you turn to face her, “Smile, beautiful.”

Smiling comes on instinct when you are looking at Minnie, but it only widens at her command. She lowers her phone and inspects the screen.

“It turned out really good! Do you want to see it?”

“Oh! A photo? Yes, please.”

You are immediately embarrassed when she shows you. Your smile is toothy and wide. Your cheeks are rosy and your eyes are creased with delight. You begin to notice the imperfections. Like the stray hairs that will not settle, and that your shirt has come awkwardly untucked.

“I look weird.”

“What? No, it’s perfect. You look adorable.”

“Let me take one.”

Minnie hands you her phone and you trade places. She poses easily, and gives you her best angle as she waits for you to line up the shot. You snap a few photos then check them the same way she had. You shuffle forward, not looking up from her dazzling smile as you approach to show her the phone screen. You make a soft sound and your eyes widen as you stumble into her arms.

“S-Sorry.”

“You’re good, darling.”

You duck your head as she drapes her arms over your shoulders and inspects the photos. Each one is perfect, although Minnie always looks flawless.

“Pretty…”

“Not as pretty as you.”

She looks proud of her statement as you flail for an argument. She giggles then takes her phone out of your hand as you playfully push her in protest.

“Don’t tease me!”

“It’s true, just look at yourself.”

“Noo!”

“I have photo evidence!”

“Delete them!”

“I’m not doing that!”

“Minnie!”

“Excuse me.”

You both pause then turn around. One of the gallery attendants is standing behind you, hands neatly folded in front of her black uniform as she regards the two of you calmly.

“Would you two like a photo together? I can take it for you?”

“Yes, thank you,” Minnie answers, separating from you to hand her phone to the staff.

You fluster again when Minnie returns to you, because she immediately wedges herself back into your arms and pulls you close by your waist. Your cheeks are burning, and you feel your heart racing as you try to make yourself pose as naturally as possible. You both turn to the camera and you offer a small smile.

“Remember,” Minnie whispers, “Smile, beautiful.”

You laugh and beam as the photo is taken. Minnie steps forward to take her phone, and you are still a little dazed when the staff member speaks.

“You two are such a cute couple.”

Your words feel caught in your throat as you wait for Minnie’s response.

“Thank you!”

The attendant wishes you both well then departs, leaving you a little dumbstruck as Minnie casually checks the photos with a soft smile.

“They’re perfect. Come see.”

“M-Minnie…”

“Hm?”

She returns to you, takes your hands as you fiddle your fingers and anxiously avoid her gaze.

“Sh-She called us a couple.”

“Mhm, I know.”

“Oh.”

She tilts her head and frowns softly.

“Are you okay?”

“It’s just… I like you a lot…”

“I know.”

“N-No, I like you.”

“y/n, I know. I like you too.”

You finally meet her eyes and melt at the warmth in her gaze as she pulls you into her embrace.

“You do?”

She giggles.

“I thought it was obvious. I guess I shouldn’t assume I know everything you’re thinking. I just thought that this was… a date?”

“A date.”

“With my… girlfriend.”

You nod.

“Girlfriend.”

She grins.

“I know you’ve liked me for a while. I feel the same way.”

“Then, can I ask you…”

“To be your girlfriend?”

You nod eagerly, making her giggle. She watches expectantly as you take a deep breath.

“Minnie, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Only if you’ll be mine?”

You nod and grin as she leans in to peck your nose.

“Then, yes, it’s official.”

You let her take your hand and intertwine your fingers as you continue your first- official- date at the gallery.

[deathfavor]

@raytm said: ❝  you belong to me.  ❞ kisaki about 2 get the death blow

Possessive, territorial, and jealous starters

Thrilling. There are precious few things in life that manage to catch Shuji Hanma by surprise. And there are fewer that can hold his attention after that initial spark of something in his chest, like trying to start a car with a dying battery. ( Maybe it's only a matter of time till he feels nothing at all. ) Except, there is one exception to this: Tetta Kisaki. Tetta Kisaki, who makes Hanma feel alive for the first time in far too many years, who paints the world full of color whether he's smirking with arrogant victory or snarling in anger. Thrilling. This is all so thrilling. It thrums in Hanma's veins.

" Jealousy looks good on you, Ki ~ sa ~ ki ~ " Hanma purrs back, drawing out the name for fun, because he knows it makes Kisaki's eye twitch with irritation. He wonders if it really was jealousy that had Kisaki seething. Hanma draws attention: mostly fear, but there's always freaks who get off on that, or who come charging towards danger. Maybe they have a death wish. Maybe it's just that Hanma has a dangerous kind of charm - a you're the type my parents said to stay away from look that lured some in.

He doesn't expect to feel Kisaki grab his shirt and yank him down like a misbehaving animal tugged by a catchpole and forced to heed. Surprise shoots through him, intoxicatingly intense when amber eyes stare directly at Kisaki's eyes, through the reflection. He giggles, grinning like he's won the lottery. And he has. Because what were the chances he would find the one who could make him remember what it was like to be human instead of just cloth and bone; something living rather than a skeleton abandoned to the elements for the world to pick apart. He grins, licks his lips, but stays quiet.

Kisaki practically hisses the words again and Hanma can hear his blood pounding in his ears. He's honest; jealousy DOES look good on Kisaki. It's all funny. Kisaki can hiss and snarl, but they both know Hanma can break Kisaki like a kid to a fragile statue. They both know he won't. ( At least, not as long as he's entertained. ) Only Kisaki can get away with this ; handling the reaper like he's just a directionless animal that needs guidance.

Hanma thinks he really might follow Kisaki to the end of the world if that's what he wants.

" Yeah. " Hanma answers - and suddenly Hanma has a cold feeling on the back of his neck. Like he's somehow just cursed Kisaki. His smile freezes for a second, halted like a picture. It's ridiculous of course. There's no reason for that feeling to be sweeping over him. He's puzzled - if anything, he should feel bad that HE admitted what they've known, not feel uneasy for Kisaki. But somehow Hanma's confession and admission feels like a signature on a death warrant.

The reaper pushes it down when he refocuses on Kisaki, grin stretching across his face again. " Yeah, I do. " His voices comes out rougher, scratching along his throat with the admission. Will it catch Kisaki by surprise for him to admit it? He can't wait to see.

[science-lings]

For the writing prompt

Stargazing 🌠🌌

"-and you see those three stars forming an acute triangle?" Zelda pointed at the night sky painted by the colorful goddess lights, the full white moon adding to the impressive twilight illumination.

"That's the head of the King of Red Lions, beneath it are five more points that make up the rest of the boat and you can just make out the triangular sails." She traced the image with her finger in the frigid hebra air.

Link couldn't quite identify the constellation she was describing, but he wasn't looking too hard and kept getting distracted by the multicolored light reflecting off of his companion's face.

He liked to think he had an eye for beauty, more so than people expected of him. He liked to wake up early to enjoy the sunrise and had spent an astounding amount of rupees and recourses into dying all his clothes multiple times simply because he thought the colors were pretty.

So seeing Zelda's face engulfed in shifting light was at the very least, objectively mesmerizing. He couldn't help but stare, it was hopeless to tear his attention back to the stars when their beauty simply couldn't compare to the sight right in front of him.

It was probably obvious, they were huddled together for warmth, despite being wrapped up in the warmest clothes they had on top of some intense heating elixirs. There was no way she didn't notice that he was looking at her and not the stars above them, he was so close to her that he could feel the rumbling of her chest when she spoke about the legends long past. Her fingers were deeply entangled in his hair, which would make her even more aware if he moved.

Thankfully she didn't seem to mind, not when his head rested against her as she explained the relation between the stars found within ancient sheikah chambers and how they changed over ten thousand years, how her favorite constellation was one of a fairy that she used to argue all the stars could look like.

She didn't mind when his eyes slowly blinked shut as she pointed out that her mother's favorite constellation was one in the shape of a large bird, once said to be ridden by their ancestors, she wondered out loud if that's where they got the idea for Vah Medoe, and if they could make a smaller version.

At that point, she stopped talking, probably assuming that he had fallen asleep. He squinted an eye open in mild annoyance, raising his eyebrow as if to say 'did I ask you to stop?'

"I like listening to you talk." He muttered, his voice muffled by the fur from her cloak.

"Oh so you were listening, well then, what's your favorite constellation?" She didn't sound like she believed him, he shifted his head to look at the sky.

"The wolf. In the book of heroes, they have an illustration of him where they use all the little stars to make his ears look extra fluffy." He tried looking for it but all the little white dots started to muddle together in his tired sight.

"You'll have to show me some time..." The princess yawned, resting her head on top of his, "I like listening to you talk too."

"What do you think our constellations would be?" He prompted. She took several minutes to answer, promising a detailed response.

"Honestly? A silent princess. I've always compared myself to one, but I've never really been silent. I think it fits better with both of us. Besides, we're the hero and the princess of the Wild, it would be pretty outlandish to symbolize us as something less... natural."

"I like that... but a dragon would be cool too,"

"Yeah, a dragon would be cool."

Send me prompts?

[nbkuhn]

The Siren's Lover Ch. 1

The day Matty met his husband started like any other. He took a picture of the sunrise and sent it to Ruby, even though he knew she’d never look at it. Instead of dwelling on that, he started his lap timer and took off running. Once he came back to the same place he started, he finally glanced at his phone. He’d gotten better at drawing this out. No notifications besides a smiley face from the app tracking his workouts. His personal best time.

Matty’s hand tightened on his phone; he wanted to throw it against the ground and grind it into dust beneath his foot.

"You know, I'm starting to get curious what you see each morning," said a voice from behind him. Matty jumped.

The speaker came into view—a male siren, clad only in black trunks and a white towel draped around his neck. He was soaked, droplets of water tracing patterns down teal skin, freckled with dark blue. A swimmer's lean muscle marked every inch, and his long, fluked tail wrapped around one leg, defining the curves of his strong thigh and calf.

Matty met his eyes—pure black, like a lake without a bottom—and his heart stuttered a beat in his chest. Until this moment, he believed such a feeling was only an expression. "Sorry, what?"

The siren flashed him a cool smile, barely friendly enough to be polite, and took the towel from around his neck to wipe off his arms. As he dried himself, the gills at his neck disappeared, along with the tail and the webbing between his fingers, leaving him almost an ordinary human in teal body paint. Except he wasn't. Matty always knew another beast when he saw one.

"I'm sorry—I shouldn't have startled you.” The siren’s voice was deep, low and resonant in his chest. “I've seen you run this way every day for a week. Every time you finish, you take out your phone and stare like it's breaking your heart. I don't believe it's your mile time, since you keep speeding up. I barely had time to get in the water before you came by this morning."

Chewing on his lower lip, Matty slipped his phone into the back pocket of his running shorts. "It's not my mile time.”

"Mm, I didn't really think so. Unless you were trying to slow down. Now there would be a story I'd like to hear." He laid a finger alongside his nose. "Not that you'd probably tell me, considering we're strangers. But sometimes I find anonymity appealing. We’ll likely never see each other again, so you can say anything you want, and I could do the same.”

Had his alarm had gone off this morning, or was he having a very strange dream?

Yet he wasn't walking away, and not because he was wiped out. The siren had a point. This wasn't Lugosi Falls, where everyone and their mother had known him since he was a chick fresh from the nest. He could be anyone he wanted. Maybe somebody who wasn't so bogged down in bullshit. Or somebody who took weird questions at face value instead of walking off. "Well, what would you tell me? You first."

The siren slid his finger down to tap the side of his cheek. "Excellent answer. Let me see." Matty found himself staring at his own reflection in those fathomless eyes. "Ah. How about my worst quality? If we remain strangers, I can be unburdened of my guilt, and if we don't, you'll already know the most terrible thing about me."

Matty had twined his own tail around his leg; he made himself relax. Why was a simple conversation leaving him so on edge? Sure, the siren was—intense, to put it lightly, but Matty was trying to learn to chill the fuck out around new people. Even hot ones. Though he wasn’t sure he had ever met a hot person who skipped so quickly to the weird shit. "Sure. And I'll tell you what's pissing me off."

"Come sit, then. There's a bench over here with the most glorious view of the sunrise." The siren led him down a path to the edge of the beach. Here, they had a perfect view of the ocean, and this early in the morning, no one else was around. The waves crashing against the beach, gleaming gold and red in the early morning sunshine, drowned every other sound.

The siren sat down on one side of the bench, and Matty took the other.

"See, look there." The siren pointed to the first true rays of dawn poking over the waves. More beauty than Matty had seen lately, but the light creeping into the sky was not what held his eyes. The faint lines of pink light shimmered over the siren’s skin, highlighting his dark freckles.

"Anyway." The siren put his backpack on his lap and laced his fingers over top of it. "I could tell you what others believe my worst quality is, but I would be cheating. Here's what I know about myself. I like the work I do better than the people I love."

Matty blinked, but the siren was still watching the sunrise, his expression unreadable. "That was... heavy.”

“I told you it was the worst thing about me.”

“Where do you work?"

"I'm the artist in residence at the local university.” Now the siren glanced at him, his regard a physical weight on Matty’s shoulders, making him want to cringe away. Or maybe stare back with equal intensity. “I've believe I’ve seen you around campus. Not a lot of beasts in a small town like this. Especially not a griffin running around in his human skin.”

Matty's tail twitched. He tucked it behind him where it wouldn't cause any trouble. Technically, he could disguise nearly all his unique parts. After moving to a city full of humans instead of beasts, he'd done that for a while, when he was still trying to know what was and wasn't safe, but it was worse than holding his breath, since he would never get to inhale again. And his eyes, the bright gold of a new wedding ring, always told on him anyway. "My dad would say I’m a human who puts on a griffin skin, but yeah, I'm a grad student. Physical therapy."

"Ah. Hence the running."

Matty nodded, still chewing over what the siren had said. He soaked in the cold salt air and the sound of the tide advancing and retreating, and the words slipped out: "Is liking your work so much really a bad thing?"

The siren blinked once, both regular eyelids and the nictitating membrane. As if Matty had said something interesting instead of blurting the first thing that came to mind. He cupped his chin in one hand. "Another new one for me, though I've never told anyone that particular detail. What makes you say so?"

Matty bit back a comment about the professor voice the siren had suddenly slipped into. He’d never told anyone this before; the answer was too personal.

Then again, sometimes it felt like he could scream at the top of his lungs and no one in his life would ever hear. In that case, why not talk to a stranger?

"Well... I don't do art for a living, but I play music in my off time. My dad used to get on my case about it, ask me why I spent so much time messing around with a guitar when I couldn’t make a living that way. The answer is I never wanted to. My music is for me. If somebody else likes it, fine, but I need that time for myself, or I’d go even crazier than I already am." His mouth twisted down. "Some people might think it's selfish, but... I don't think being selfish is a bad thing, not all the time. Not about protecting something important to you."

He cut himself off before more nonsense came out, but the siren turned sideways, resting his elbow on the bench, the better to study him.

No one ever looked at him with such fascination when he went and blurted out an essay. (Well. One person. But he wasn't thinking about her.) For a second, Matty saw himself the way this siren might see him—someone cool, mysterious, athletic, not a nervous bundle of feathers only running because flying would get him in trouble. Someone who sat on park benches and watched the sunrise over the ocean and had deep conversations with complete strangers.

The siren's lips curled in a more personable smile. He had dark blue freckles, six on each cheek.

Matty's heart stuttered in his chest again. He must have pushed himself too hard running this morning.

"Well. I'll have to think on your thesis. I don't know if I agree or if I'm simply looking for an excuse to dismiss my own faults." The siren propped his cheek on his hand. "Your turn." He spoke with so much emphasis, like he had considered each word for hours.

Matty found himself staring at the siren's mouth and quickly looked back at the sunrise. "My turn—my phone." He rubbed his jaw, the frown creeping back onto his face.

When had it even disappeared? Sometime during this talk, he'd calmed down, maybe because this was so fucking weird. Now his shoulders tensed up again, right at the place where his wings would sprout if he could wear them out.

Then again, showing off his wings would mean prancing around shirtless in front of this handsome stranger. Oof.

"It's my best friend." He resisted the urge to glance back at the siren. "Are you one of those people who say women and men can't be friends without sexual tension? Because I don't want to tell you what's going on and then get the same shit I've been hearing since I hit puberty."

The siren tilted his head. "My species is ninety-nine percent female. If I didn't think women and men could be friends, I'd either have very few friends or be attracted to a lot of people." He paused. "The last part is true anyway, but it has nothing to do with friendship."

Matty's stomach lurched, as if his wings had given out on him halfway through a dive. "Sorry. I knew that about sirens. Bad question."

"Bad questions don't exist. I strongly dislike it when anyone says otherwise in front of me. Now, you were saying?"

Usually, that phrase was a cliché, but the siren's tone was so firm even Matty couldn't argue. "Uh. Well. My best friend is a woman—a human. I don't know if that's relevant, but everyone around here assumes I've never met one before."

The siren's lips quirked with familiarity, both reassuring and deeply annoying. Matty could shrug off those little irritations; he didn’t like to think of the siren dealing with the same bullshit. "Or that you know every beast in existence?"

Matty nodded. "I don't know which I hate more. Anyway, we've been best friends since we were kids—our parents went to college together." He rubbed the small white tuft of fur on the end of his tail, but this time, he couldn't make himself stop. Even the echo of the waves didn’t help him calm down. "I moved out here for graduate school last semester. And ever since then, she's been—ignoring me."

"Do you text her every day?" From someone else, that would have been judgmental, the response Matty was expecting. But the siren’s tone was totally neutral.

Matty's hand tightened on his tail, hard enough to hurt. He unclenched, slowly, and rested his palm flat on his thigh. "Yes. She's—she's in a really bad relationship, and a lot of our other friends have... stopped talking to her. Because they don't like her girlfriend."

He never knew how to explain exactly how much life Ruby’s girlfriend Tansy had robbed from her without sounding like he was jealous. He was, but only because Tansy was hoarding Ruby for herself. "I don't want Ruby to think I'm going to give up on her too. But she never answers. She probably deletes them—her girlfriend hates me."

"That does sound difficult." Matty hated to hear that from his friends or his dad. The phrase only meant they hadn’t been listening, or that he hadn't managed to make himself clear.

The siren’s voice, though, was so heavy and sad Matty couldn’t help but trust his sympathy. "All the same, I think it's good of you to keep reaching out to her. Even when a decision is clearly the right path, you cannot force another person to choose it. You must simply make it known you will be waiting when they do."

Matty's heart stuttered a third time—now not because the siren was disarming or handsome or even because of his deep voice, raising goose bumps on Matty's skin, but because...

He swallowed against a sudden tightness in his throat. "Thanks. I—I think I really needed somebody to say it's okay to keep giving a shit. Everybody else in my life is waiting for me to move on. But she never gave up on me, and I'm not giving up on her. A text is the least I can do."

The siren nodded, considering this. "I don't think it's ever wrong to care, or to show someone that caring," he said, after so long a pause Matty's knee joggled from nerves, from the intensity of his dark, reflective eyes, shining with the arc of the rising sun. Here he hadn’t thought anything could possibly make a sunrise more beautiful. "As long as it’s truly a free choice, I would rather lose myself trying to do good than live forever doing nothing. I think it can be powerful, to know love has teeth and place yourself willingly into its jaws all the same."

"Do you always talk like that?" Matty blurted.

The siren's hand came up to cover his mouth, eyes crinkled in a smile. He didn't appear embarrassed, exactly, but his tone turned less serious. "I'm sorry. It is very early in the morning, and I sleep little when I'm in the middle of a project. I'm probably speaking complete nonsense."

"No, I didn't mean—" Matty shook his head. "I like it. I was trying to ask—do you read random people for filth every day of your life?"

At this, the siren actually laughed, and Matty felt a strong, surprising surge of pride for breaking his grave demeanor. "No, absolutely not. I far prefer to listen. But there's something about you."

He propped his cheek on his hand again, dropping his voice to a low murmur like he was whispering in Matty's ear. (Matty thought of lush teal lips hovering near his cheek, soft breath ruffling his hair, and bit back a shiver.) "This is the part where I admit I've been watching you run for, oh, a week at least? You always take the path past my favorite area for a morning swim."

"I mean, I'm the one who runs in public, so..." He shrugged, the movement of his shoulders reminding him of his wings hiding beneath his skin. It felt like an inadequate answer, but he could hardly say, I don't mind the idea of you watching me do anything.

A small smile crossed the siren's face. Matty desperately wanted to be let in on the secret hiding behind those lips. "So forgiving. How kind of you. Nevertheless."

He straightened. Now the secret hid in his eyes instead of behind his lips, even more enticing. "I've been watching you for a week, and we have both shared something complicated and troubling. I believe we should be introduced, don't you?"

He held out his hand, each finger topped with short black nails carefully ground down from sharp points. "Land dwellers can't pronounce my name, but you can call me Finch."

Matty opened his mouth to give his nickname—but did he really want this handsome stranger to call him that? Someone who took him seriously, someone who asked him difficult questions and listened when he responded?

"Matthias." He took the offered hand. Finch's palms were cool, smooth and lineless. "Matthias Beckett."

"Well. I am glad to finally meet you properly, Matthias Beckett." Finch withdrew his hand. Matty had to flex his before he put it back on his thigh, the texture of Finch’s skin lingering. "I'm not certain this was what I was expecting, but you won't find me complaining."

"What were you expecting?"

"You to ignore me, not play along. I did ask a complete stranger a personal question in the strangest way possible. Though even when I try to make small talk, land dwellers find me off-putting. I may as well lean into it instead of away. I'm an artist. I'm not supposed to be easily understood."

"If it works for you, it works." Matty glanced at his watch and swore. "Shit, I've got to get back to my place so I can change." He jerked to his feet, then hesitated. "Uh—"

But Finch only stretched his arms out on the back of the bench, his lips curved in another enigmatic smile. "Well. I'll be here tomorrow."

"Same." For once, Matty didn't regret spitting out the first thing on his mind. "See you around, I guess." He jogged off before he could blurt out something stupider. As he ran, Finch started whistling a tune Matty didn’t recognize.

Usually, meeting new people left him feeling flat-footed. He wasn't cool and collected like Ruby or commanding and sure of himself like his father. But with Finch’s tune echoing in his ears, he didn't feel bad at all. He felt like someone else, but in a good way.

Matthias, not Matty.

The song Finch had been humming followed Matty his whole walk home, echoing in his head like the crash of the waves against the beach. Even that small snippet intoxicated him as much as Finch’s dark, gleaming eyes. He needed to get it down on paper.

Trying desperately not to forget the notes, Matty didn't think anything of walking into his apartment and barged in on his roommates having breakfast. He had three: all white, all brunet, all human, and, most importantly, all named Josh. They weren't related, but they were best friends.

Medium Josh looked up from his eggs. "Oh, hey, Matt."

Matty froze for a couple reasons. Hearing Matt after Matthias was disconcerting, especially since nobody ever called him Matt at home. It was always Matty with a Y, the same way it was always Matty and Ruby.

For another, part of him wasn't here in the room—he was flipping through his sheet music, trying to think of anything even vaguely like Finch's song.

And also he'd forgotten his roommates would still be home. After his run, he usually headed straight to campus.

If Medium Josh noticed his awkwardness, he was nice enough not to show it. He was chill, one of the reasons Matty moved in with a strange group of humans he'd never met. (His dad was less okay with this idea, but his dad didn't get to drive his life anymore.) "You want some eggs? I can make more."

Matty's tail twitched as he consulted his careful tally of how many times he said no to social events. He always accepted study groups so he could always turn down nights at the bar or clubs. Where did breakfast fall on that scale? He wasn’t looking for friends, but he also couldn’t offend people he would be seeing in class for the next few years.

But if he said yes, he would forget the song. The idea of letting anything from his morning with Finch slip through his fingers decided him. "No, that's okay. Thanks, though."

"You sure? I know these two chuckleheads finished everything off, but we've still got two hours before class. I can make you more." He gestured at the other Joshes, who had both politely been pretending their eggs were the most interesting things in the world. Small and Tall Josh both seemed a little more unsure about Matty, both as a stranger and a beast, so he hadn't tried to push it with them.

"Nah, I had trouble sleeping last night, so I want to crash while I can." He ducked in his room before Medium Josh could keep going. His roommate would gladly talk until the four lords of fairy returned from wherever they’d gone.

Once his bedroom door was safely closed behind him, Matty rushed to plug in his headphones and his guitar, sketching out the basic notes on paper, then trying them on the strings.

Matty brought his guitars with him out of habit more than anything; he hadn't touched them since high school, not with any real intent. The feeling of his fingers moving across the frets was too tied to other memories: Ruby's hand on top of his, correcting his form. Her singing voice, low and rich like honey made thick by the cold. Her laughter, raspy and raucous as the caw of a crow.

He wanted to hate those memories. They should have upset him. But instead of frustrating him the way they would have even this morning, he heard Finch's voice instead, his gentle admonition to care. And then he remembered the song again, and he was back to the loop, the burning need for his guitar.

He worked until Medium Josh banged on his door, reminding him they all had class to walk to. When he picked up his phone, he realized he hadn’t checked it in hours.

Chapter two?

[isamajor]

June of Doom : day 26 to 30

Finally the last days of @juneofdoom ! :D

26 - Numb

Telmiltarion's heart raced wildly as a cavebear burst out of a bush to chase after him. Fear gripped the Mer's soul, paralyzing him in the face of his phobia. His body froze, muscles refusing to respond to his commands. As the bear closed in, Telmiltarion's mind spiraled into numbness. His instincts screamed for to defend himself, but his fear prevented him from seizing his sword. The bear threw him on his back and its claws tore through his armor, digging into his flesh. In a strangled cry, he broke free from his paralysis, the numbness shattered by pain and pure survival instinct. (105)

•

27 - Sacrifice

In the heart of the ancient Dwarven ruin, they were menaced by a handful of deadly dwarven ballistae, who maintained a constant vigil over the place since several millenias. Deadly metallic bolts were shot from the top of thick stone walls, threatening to impale the intruders. Out of the corner of his eye, Inigo spotted a ballista about to shoot his friend in their back. He didn't have time to warn them and shoved the Dragonborn, taking the bolt instead. Blood stained his blue fur.

“Better me than you, my friend.” he gasped with a pained smile. (97)

•

28 - Knife

Xelzaz moved with the ferocity and grace of a predator, hunting bandits, the metal of his dagger blades shimmering in the light of his Flame Atronach. But in amidst the chaos of the onslaught, a knife found its mark, slashing across his scaled tail. The wound, though small, stung with intensity. Xelzaz hissed a curse. Blood dripped from his tail, painting a crimson trail in his wake. He had to find the bandit who did it. To cut the hand who held that knife. And each swing of his daggers became fueled by a desire for retribution. (97)

•

29 -“It’s really not that big of a deal.” / Bruises

Caryalind stared at his reflection in a pond, bruises marring his once pristine features. Each mark was the witness of a fight, and each fight was an affront to his detestable father. Even though he regretted the comfort of his life before, this new life filled with sores and bumps made him feel more alive than before. He felt like he was fighting for something good, that would make the world a better place. And that those bruises marring his graceful physique weren't a big deal after all : a little pain was nothing compared to the possibility of ridding the world of Thalmor. (104)

•

30 - Buried Alive / Failed Escape

Auri and Remiel huddled together, their breathing ragged with anguish. The oppressive artificial light of the Dwemer ruin surrounded them, their failed escape leaving them trapped within its thick walls. Auri's heart pounded with each echoing noise of the Dwemer spheres that hunted them. Her arrows felt useless against their metal armor. Remiel, usually confident in her knowledge about all Dwemer things, cursed herself for misjudging the automatons' numbers. If they didn't get out of this ancient maze quickly, they would end up buried alive in these subterranean ruins, far from the surface and the rays of the sun. (101)

I am super happy to have been able to complete the challenge... in time ! :D

You can find all the drabbles (and more from other whump challenges) here !

[asssikawa]

Wanna Get Drunk and Nasty?

hehe, crossposted from my ao3! this is an 18+ toji x reader

word count: 2.9k

cw: alcohol usage, infidelity, body shots

Endless days at the office took up all the time you thought you had for yourself. Standing next to him, following him, reminding him of the never-ending business meetings that were crammed into his schedule. He always scowled at the reminder, but always softened his delivery with a “thank you, darling,” or any sort of those pet names. Your personal favorite was doll or darling, it sent flutters in your heart and lower bits. You felt bad for your raven haired boss as you both stayed in the office overtime when the moon stays at its highest point of the night, almost every night. Filling out paperwork and filing took up the overtime hours; your boss, by the time midnight struck, his tie was already loosened while his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His arms looked amazing, his veins became more prominent while he gripped his fountain pen. You could salivate at the sight of your disheveled-looking boss. Your eyes would travel up his arms and up to his hand, wondering how you’d look under him, his hand wrapped around your neck.

However, the moon would always illuminate the silver band around his ring finger in the midst of your lustful thoughts. It shined bright under the light, reflecting light onto your murkied thoughts, reminding you he is indeed a married man. You couldn’t help but feel guilty, knowing how badly you wanted your boss to be yours, but alas, he’s a married man with a family. “Mr. Fushiguro, these are the last of the documents,” you said in a small voice, when his sharp feline eyes gazed up at you from his work. His stoic expression morphed into a curt smile, taking the folder from your grasp.

“Thank you, darling. You should head off now, your partner is probably worried with how long you stay here,” Toji said, opening up the pale yellow folder. Looking down at your hands, heat rose to your cheeks.

“I don't really have someone waiting for me at home, I’m single, sir,” you responded, a bit flustered. Who wouldn’t be embarrassed to admit to their boss that you’re single as fuck? He let out a breath, before giving you an apologetic gaze. “I could say the same about you sir, you should probably head home. Your wife is waiting for you at home, we can continue filing later on, you don’t have anything on your schedule.”

“We don’t have any meetings? Thank fuck, I was getting tired of that old man,” He groaned, pausing while twiddling with that glimmering ring. The one you wished that he wore for you. “I mean, I suppose I do,” he continued, his voice void of any particular emotion. His eyes shifted towards the bottle of bourbon collecting dust at the corner of his office before his gaze flicked back to you, the moonlight seemed to make his eyes glow in the dark room. “Do you want to be a dear and bring me that bourbon? It’s been collecting dust since god knows when.” You nodded at his request, bringing back the beautifully decorated glass tray that held the bottle and several shot glasses lined with gold paint. Every step you took, you felt like shrinking back further and further. You nearly drowned in the intensity of his stare, withering inside your lust-ridden thoughts. Before Toji even asked, you opened the bottle, the sound of the stopper clinging against the glass made you cringe. Taking one of the shot glasses, you poured the bourbon, still feeling Toji’s predatory gaze on your body. His larger hand engulfed your much smaller ones, guiding the glass towards his mouth whilst still in your grasp.

Looking down at him, your heart skipped a beat watching your boss drink from your hands, his eyes staring directly up at you. A gush of wetness soaked your panties at his expression. He pulled away when he finished the shot. “I’m surprised you’re single, dollface. You follow orders so well, listen well. Gorgeous face, gorgeous body; truly a sight for sore eyes,” He commented, his eyes still dead set on your figure. You flushed at the comment, shifting your legs to alleviate the throbbing heat in between your legs. It was damn near painful to know you couldn’t get what you wanted. You sat on the corner of the dark wood desk, pressing your soaked pussy against the cool corner. A bit of pleasure shot through your veins upon secretly grinding against the corner. Toji’s usual nonchalant expression was a bit flushed, watching your movement, every hitch of your breath. Gazing back at your boss and the empty glass twiddling in his thick fingers, your hand trotted towards his glass. He quirked a thin eyebrow at your actions as you took the glass from him, filling it up with bourbon. You took a swing, feeling the hot liquid burn your throat as it slid down into your stomach. Your eyes locked on him as you finished the shot, setting it down back in front of Toji. A smirk split on his face, rolling his seat out a bit, patting his lap.

Perhaps alcohol made you too bold. Filling the glass with bourbon once more, your pumps clicked against the floors, walking towards Toji. You made yourself comfortable on his thick muscular thighs. You felt every dip and crease of his thigh despite the layers of clothes you two had on. Offering the glass to Toji once more, he drank the shot from your hand, a low groan gurgled in the back of his throat. “Am I doing good, Mr. Fushiguro?” You said, your voice feigning innocence. He looked down at you, his heavy hand gripping your thigh.

“So fucking good,” He growled out as you pushed your ass closer to his crouch, feeling his slightly hardened bulge grow. His body was pressed against your smaller body. You never realized how large he was against you, you never felt so small. Your heartbeat pulsated in more than one area, his hardening bulge pressing your plump ass. His rather large hand squeezed your plush thighs, slightly grinding your ass against his hardened dick.

“You’re not concerned at all that you’re doing this with your married boss?” He whispered into your ear, his hot breath sending tingles down your body, whimpering followed suit as your sensitive clit cried out for more stimulation. His grip on your thighs tightened as the sound of your skin tone pantyhose ripping echoed in the room, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear.

“I see how you stare, darling,” he empathized with the word darling, his hands traveling up to your waist. He picked you up, settling your body on the desk in front of you. Your back laid flat against the papers the two of you have been working on for hours. A yelp left your mouth as Toji forcibly spread your legs, pitifully looking at your boss, your eyes glossing in lust. “You don’t give a fuck about my marriage, always eyefucking me like that. I bet deep down you want to be my little fucktoy, hm?”

“I did care, if I didn’t I would have fucked you much sooner.” you replied, resting your legs on Toji’s broad shoulders. A lazy smirk spread across your face. “And what about you sir? It takes two to tango.” Another yelp spilled from your glossed lips upon feeling Toji’s heavy hand smack down on your clothed clit.

“You were doing so well, what happened with that mouth of yours?” Toji said mockingly, pressing his thumb against your sensitive nub. A wordless breath left your mouth, rolling your hips slightly to help with the unadulterated lust soaking through your panties. He let out a low whistle while pulling his hand away from your cunt; his thumb slightly damp. “God, you’re fucking soaked,” he muttered to himself, before licking his thumb from your juices. Your hands fumbled with the zipper on the side of your fitting pencil skirt, stopping in tracks upon seeing Toji’s menacing gaze. “Don’t. Keep them on, you don’t know what damned things this skirt does to me,” he said, pushing the skirt up to your belly, revealing the thin fabric of your pantyhose that barely covered your white lacy panties. Another rip captured your attention, a gust of cold air tickling at your pussy. Your lips desperately clung onto the panties’ damp moisture, outlining the shape of your cunt. With fluttering lashes, you looked at your boss, his expression looked much similarly to a hunger-stricken animal. It took him a while to bunch your underwear to the side, admiring the view of your wet, clenching pussy. A wave of insecurity washed over you, nearly making you close your legs.

“Mr. Fushi- ah!” Abruptly, his finger slid into you, burying itself in your plush walls. Heavy breaths came from you as Toji continued his ministrations. It was so hot, the temperature in your body and the room seemed to increase as beads of sweat on Toji’s forehead started to glisten under the moonlight. You could hear every lewd squelch, accompanied by Toji’s heightened breathing. He added another finger, a finger with a cool object wrapped around it that always stopped at the entrance of your slit; his wedding band. “Sir- please,” you managed to squeeze out, balling your hands on your blouse as a futile attempt to grip onto something.

“Say it again.” He rasped out, he felt your walls tightened a bit at the command. His voice was so low and riddled in hunger, it made your walls flutter.

“Sir,” you moaned out, rolling your hips with his fingering. The tips of his thick fingers brushed against your sweet spot, your hips jerking up followed by a pitchy moan. Dipping his head down, Toji can feel the heat radiating off of you. His nose brushed against your clit, before latching his mouth onto your nub. Your legs began to shake as pleasure and a lack of air built up in your being, as Toji’s tongue wrote his name on your clit, his fingers prodding at your g-spot. Toji nearly salivated at the taste of your cunt, a low moan gurgled in his throat. The vibrations of his moan sent you over the edge, the air left your lungs as you arched your back. You came in a heated rush, collapsing on the chilled desktop, electricity washing through every inch of your body. The coldness from the desk sent goosebumps across your feverish body. Heavy breaths heaved from your body, as Toji pulled away, his hands glistened in your juice. His chin dripped, his pupils were blown out. His gaze shifted from you to the forgotten bourbon bottle; the sound of the bottle opening brought you out of your hazed mind, seeing Toji taking a swing of it whilst buttoning his damp white shirt. He looked like he was carved by the Gods themselves, taking hours for every hill of muscle. Endless scars and improperly healed wounds decorated his torso, you couldn’t help but wonder what happened to him, including the scar adorning his lips. You hoped Toji didn’t notice your staring at his scars. (of course he did, he just opted not to say anything, for now.) Your eyes followed his happy trail down to the V in his hips. With a urgnancy, Toji’s hand ran down the buttons of your blouse, as they flew across the room in various directions. Your mouth fell open at his brute strength, you could already feel the smirk of cockiness from the man. “Oh you like that huh? I got plenty more where that came from,” he said, pulling down your matching white flower lace bra, immediately latching onto your nipple. A pleased sigh left your mouth as Toji paid attention to your breasts, slightly grinding his clothed bulge against your still tingly pussy. Before pulling away, he left a chaste kiss in between your breasts, his eyes gazing into yours. Grasping the bourbon, Toji looked at you. “I hope you don’t mind stains.”

“I’m sorry what?” Shivers shot up your spine, as the liquid filled your belly button the brim, nearly spilling over onto your belly. Arching your back up a bit, Toji’s hands ran under your back as his mouth latched onto your belly. The liquid burned in his throat, his tongue lapping at any remnants of the alcohol in your belly button before pulling away. He left a trail of sloppy kisses up to your collarbone, the alcohol in his grasp. The smell of alcohol lingered on your skin as Toji poured the bourbon on your collarbone before lapping it up. Unexpectedly, his teeth pierced your skin a bit before he suckled on it, leaving a burning red mark that would surely turn into a beautiful dark hickey by morning.

Pulling away from your neck, Toji nearly chuckled at your flustered expression. “You know the janitors should be here soon.” He said, pausing before he pulled down his boxers. His dick smacking against his lower abdomen. Your eyes widened at his size, not even paying attention to his expression. “Hey now, you’re gonna stare, you might as well take a picture,” he said, lining his head with your slit. The tip prodded your hole, your gasp getting caught in your breath.

“I’ve never been with anyone with your size…” you admit bashfully, making him chuckle.

“I’ll try to be gentle,” The head of his dick slipped between your folds, a groan leaving the two of you. It’s been awhile since Toji has had sex with his hectic schedule and his rocky marriage. Easing himself out and then back in at a steady pace, Toji huffed. Your pitched moans sounded like music to his ears; he drove into you, his thrusts became harder and harder with each pass until you were breathless and frantic. Your fingers clawed at the desk, gripping one of the folders. “Oh- God!” you cried out.

“Why are you calling my name?” He said with a cheeky grin, His furious thrusts sent the objects on his desk flying onto the floor, the sound of glass shattering made your body freeze up. The photo of his wife fell over, but you didn’t give a damn; all you could think about was the release that threatened and the blood rushing in your ears. Shameless moans spilled over your lips, increasing in volume as the knot in your gut continued to churn; you didn’t care if the janitors heard you. Hell, you didn’t care if the whole damn city heard you, you finally got what you wanted. “You sound like a whore, you want the janitors to hear you?” He said, leaning down close to your face.

“I don’t care!” you cried out, your lips ghosting over his; the hollow sound of your skins slapping together ricocheted in the room, spilling into the presumably empty hallways. The knot in your gut finally snapped, your mouth falling open whilst clawing at Toji’s veiny forearms. Toji looked down at your orgasmic face, the moonlight illuminating your features. He paused his thrusting to stop and admire your face. He looked down at you with such soft eyes, it was such a shame you didn’t see it.

Jitters ran through your body, your legs as weak as jello. Blinking slowly, your vision was greeted with Toji’s flushed expression. He was panting slightly, his tanned cheeks beamed red. His scarred lip twitched upwards into a smirk. “You back?” You nodded, your eyes glossy in forming tears from your intense orgasm. “Good. Wrap your arms around my neck.” You obeyed, feeling his arms wrap around your waist before lifting you up. Your back met the cool window, looking into his feline-like eyes. His hands moved down to your thighs to balance your body properly. Thrusting upwards, his tip brushed against your g-spot, another gasp leaving you. Toji didn’t waste any time with his driving pace. His breath became louder, labored, and short, as his thrusts were more frantic. He was as hard as a rock inside you, filling your walls. You could sense he was so close as were you with your sensitivity. “God, it’s like your pussy was made for me.”

“Only for you, Mr. Fushiguro,” you squealed out, your hold around his neck tightened as your back arched off the glass window. His body drove into your hips a final time, and then he was moaning again and again. Listening to him made your insides quiver, your walls fluttering around his pulsating dick. The feeling of him pulsing inside you was like nothing else, his constant animalistic moans nearly matched with your whorish ones.

“Fuck, (Y/N),” he groaned out one last time, his dick painting your insides white. He pressed his damp forehead against yours, his cum seemed endless, filling you to the absolute brim. You two stayed in that position for a while before Toji pulled out, his cum dripping down your thigh the moment he pulled out. He let your body fall against him, guiding you to the leather couch. Your head fell against his chest, listening to his heavy breathing and the rummage of his heartbeat. He pressed a kiss on the top of your head, squeezing your hip. Your tired eyes shifted towards the door as you two came down from your highs. Squinting at the door, you had wondered if the door was cracked open the entire time.

[lolita-lollipop]

Royal siren erasermic family? They like adopt you after you hatch from an egg bc they found you or something idk and take you back to the castle and make you their little princess or something cute and fluffy like that.

YANDERE SIREN ERASERMIC FAMILY X BABY PRINCESS READER

Shinso was just out and about, swimming through some forbidden areas he wasn’t supposed to be in, avoiding sharks, when he found an iridescent little ball under some rubble of a shipwreck, it made his gills tingle at the sweet aura that it emmited, he knew, that this creature, was something to protect. It was up until he saw something moving inside that he thought it was just some ancient treasure that would’ve died with this ship, he examined it closer, squinting his eyes, that’s when he realized, it was a Siren. A baby one at that, usually they hatched out of boring white eggs, the royal family’s were gold, but a shiny color changing white that combated the finest of jewels? Never, this little pip was special, he could feel it.

So he brought it back home, through his “balcony window”, debating wether or not he should tell his parents. As you know, he was somewhere where he was not supposed to be, and they would throw a fit. Then again, whatever this thing was, he couldn’t just keep it to himself, something was living inside it, and he wouldn’t know if something was wrong, so he has too. When he did, it came as a suprise that his parents weren’t mad, they jsut kindof stared at the orb, inhaling the addictive scent it gave off, the three huddled around it, aizawa carefully picking the Small thing up, it was only about the size of a pumpkin, extremely easy to pick up, yet he could still feel the heartbeat of a creature inside, it just had to be one of the sirenfolk , there isn’t any other explanation. He stared at it in confusion, noticing the small cracks staring to form.

Then a little hand popped through, and scared the shit out of all of them.

———

As it turned out, you were in fact a siren, a rare subtype of them, thought to have gone extinct long, long ago. The opal-looking scales that littered your arms and tail showed proof of it, this species were intensely more fragile, and weaker, that’s why they went extinct, as they couldn’t hear, and a small crabs pinch could cause major bone breaks, they were just too weak, yet so beautiful. That’s why they were coveted among the royal family. It only helped their growing obsession taht you were so cute.

It might’ve been an act of I’mpulse, but they just needed to have you as their own, of course, their word is law, so they could’ve just kept you, but they felt the need to make it official, they’d already had two pips, you’re just their third! It was simple, of course, you specific species could be born into sirenfolk families, it was just so rare that it had only happened once. You were just so cute, so fragile, just something so breakable, they just

H a d

To protect this tiny lil thing, it was instinctual to feel a protective pull over their little pups, and boy were they feeling that right now, you were special, not just any baby, but you were theirs. Their special little pup, nothing would ever lay a hand on you, ever. It had only be a few days, and word spreads through the underwater kingdom like a wave, from the servant maid who showed them how to take care of you, to the head maid, to a citizen, to the fisher, and eventually, by the end of the week, the whole kingdom was eagerly waiting to get a glimpse of their new princess.

And boy were they shocked to find out it was an opalite, the most rare of rare sirens in the world. Immediately after they had shown you to the world, sitting in a large clam as it was pulled by sharks, the citizens fell in love with you, maybe it was the fact that you were related to their beloved royals, maybe because the royal family would intensely glare at anyone who made negative comments, maybe it was the fact that a few of those people went missing, but who knows right?

You still hadn’t been able to open your eyes yet, and you won’t be able to hear them for a very long time, your hands were about the size of aizawas eye, and you looked closer to a fish than a human, as you hadn’t even developed your face yet, another plus to being the endangered species, note the sarcasm. And guess what? They found it so adorable, just their cute little baby, their little pup who can’t even protect themselves from the water around them. They just loved every part of your little body, from your tails, to your tiny little hands, to your shiny gills. It was all just so perfect- you were so perfect, and you were theirs, they were gonna protect you at all costs.

So of course they did, you were just so tiny right now, they knows practically anything could hurt you, so they opted to be around you all the time, only leaving to hunt for humans that would suffice for their tastes, drawling them in, determined because of that little smile of yours. You motivated them to do it, they were doing this for you. It have them all a sense of pride to have you feel safe with them, to rite them you. On their own terms.

Eri was constantly around you, being that she was a young one just like you, and you were her little sister! So she wanted to always be around while you made those echoing gurgling noises, or flapped your hands around in the water, she didn’t have responsibility in the kingdom yet, unless being cute is a job, so she can be with you jsut as much as she wants. Always sitting with you while you played with the floating pearls that they had arranged over your play area, watching you feel new things, holding you while you dozed off with adorable little bubbles, she always was with you.

Like now, she’s been with you all day, giving you little snacks, glaring at the guards at the door who always had their eyes on you… creeps. The sun was almost setting, and when you’re low down in the ocean it goes pitch black after a little while, and that’s when the jellyfish come out, tonight was one of the most special days out of the year in the northern oceans, the jellyfish festival, the one night a year when the rare white jellyfish would come out to say hi, leaving trails of shimmering sparkle behind them, painting the upper levels of the ocean a shiny silver. It just so happened that it occurred on your first birthday, a very small increment to sirens, as they live almost a billion years, but still a big accomplishment in their eyes. Look! Their little baby girl is turning one! How amazing!

“Do you see them hon? Look, they’re just starting to appear” Aizawa asked both you and eri calmly, swishing his hand through the salty water to pint at the new appearance of white and purple blobs, slowly flouncing their way overhead. Eri smiled up at it, her pointed teeth displayed in full view, her eyes shined at the view, not only of the huge jellyfish, but also at you, who was placed delicately in mics lap, sat up against his chest. Little bubbles escaped your mouth as you blew raspberries into the water, just making the family laugh.

“Mm-hmmm! Look! Look! How pretty! I wanna touch em! Can I touch em!” She yelled at her parents, excitedly pointing towards the jelly’s floating towards the surface, her hair floated behind her as she swished around, shinsho just chuckled, knowing that she eventually would try to touch them, and get zapped, again, like last year, and the year before, and the year before.

“No hon. Don’t do that to us again, you wanna wish your sister a happy birthday? She’s probably really exited!” Mic cheered, distracting his daughter from touching the jellyfish, yet again, meanwhile, you were happily bouncing up and down on his lap, enjoying the freedom of your arms, swishing them all over the place, grabbing the beads around your neck, jsut anything.

“But dad! Why not! It’s not like it’s hurt me or anything I’ll be fi-“ she begged, throwing her hands up in a small tempter tantrum, clearly forgetting her previous events of pain, and idiocy.

“No- nope no no, we aren’t doing this again, please honey, just please, remember last time, we had to clean up your wounds OUTSIDE-of water, you hate going to the surface remember? “

“Yeah but-“ she started speaking, but was soon cut off with a loud giggle, resonating through your lips, kindof rare for you, you hadn’t been very vocal outside of a few gurgles here and there, so it had each and every ones heads turning. That’s when they saw it, your beautiful eyes, shin sing in reflection to the jellyfish. Those beautiful little eyes of yours mesmerized all of them, a pitch black (for protection from the salt), with a shiny silver-like pupal, immediately after they opened, a burst of color filled your vision. You giggled and clapped your hands together with a small toothless smile, watching as the floaty creates went overhead, glittering with the light.

The absolutely gorgeous splash above was admired by the family form their own viewing post, the blues and whites combined to make a heavenly display. You could feel the cool sprinkles of light they emmited hitting your skin, smiling at the feeling, you splayed your hands out and flailed them against the water.

“Ohhhhhh- oh wow. Honey! Honey look! Her eyes opened! Look at taht! Aren’t you just so magical! Look at you, my little pup.” Mic smacked Aizawa over the chest multiple times, pointing at your clearly opened eyes, you just remained oblivious, staring up at all the new things around you, like.. everything! He turned you around to face him, letting you actually see his face for the first time, taking in the long yellow hair, the (also) black eyes, the ethereal face dotted with shiny yellow gills, him, you could see him!

“She’s developing smoothly, I’m glad. Awww, that’s pretty cute.” Aizawa replied to him, holding in his emotions, as soon as he met those new eyes of yours it’s like everything else disappeared, like the world itself didn’t exist, outside of him, and his fmaily. You took his breath away, or what you could call breath, so cute and innocent, such a small thing, that brings so much joy. Your little tail swished back and forth as you stared up at them happily, taking in the features of the people you’d learned to recognize by touch. Blowing raspberries out of your lips with a stream of bubbles.

“Awwwww! I’m gonna cry, she’s growing so fast! Soon she’ll be swimming in her own! In like 200 years! Too soon, way too soon. Comers baby- mm hmmm” mic spoke, knowing full well that even if he did cry, his tears would get sucked in by the ocean. He pulled you close, moving your head I’ve this shoulde is it would rest in the crook of his neck while he hugged you, eventually, the others joined in, eri practically flopping ontop (with careful regard for you of course).

They all stared at you, while you stared up at the “sky”, oblivious to their stares, to the ways they would growl at anyone who came close, to how they kept you from seeing anyone other than what they personally approve. After all, you are jsut their little pup, of course you wouldn’t notice! Their little pup… feels right to say that, it isn’t like you have any family waiting, they aren’t ever gonna come here.

And if they ever did?

Then, well, a few mermaids are going missing

———————————————————————————————————

Thanks for requesting, this was fun to write!

Have a great day today! Goodbye.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hello! I know I asked before, but may you please write another snippet? This time something about a villain who is basically darkness, cruelty, apathy and everything evil all warped and hidden behind an friendly face. A villain who is very dangerous and violent, very sadistic and torturous, very sinister and a machiavellian monstrosity, a villain you can see hell through their eyes. Yet they’re calm, collected and with a terrifyingly gentle touch and soft voice and they hide all of their corruption and wickedness behind a polite and pleasant facade.

I’m sorry if this is too specific. I love your writing! ♥️

“You’re frightened of me,” the villain murmured. Their head tilted, expression even as they considered the hero - like the hero was a particularly interesting and complex problem they were endeavouring to solve. 

The hero took a step back on instinct, flinching to a stop at the way the villain’s eyes followed the movement. The movement had betrayed them. There was no pretending now that nothing was wrong. Their heart raced in their chest, a beat of war drums pounding a warning in their head. Their mouth had gone dry. The thermos of coffee the hero had brought, because the villain always worked so late, felt clammy against their palm. 

“I see you.” It was barely above a whisper, raspy. 

The villain hummed and offered a small, pleasant smile. “Yes,” they said. “You do, don’t you. How long?”

The hero stared at them. 

“Ah,” the villain said. “A new development.”

The villain didn’t try and approach, but the hero felt sure that if they made a go for the doors of the art gallery, that would change. Images of blood and gore flickered behind the hero’s eyeballs - they imagined it splashed up the pristine white walls, just another smear of paint. 

All around them, were the villain’s paintings. The exhibition was supposed to be one about modern monstrosity, the forms of social and institutional violence which wound around the building bricks of contemporary society. Controversial. Startling. And, the hero had finally realised staring at the bold strokes of paint, entirely too real. Those paintings weren’t just inspired, they were drawn from something far too real, and put smugly on display with the knowledge that most people would guess anything other than the truth. 

“You thought my work was beautiful,” the villain continued, watching them. “Do you still think so?”

“I didn’t think it was-” the hero stopped. Their throat locked tight. 

They’d met the villain a few months ago - a final year art student intern, and the villain an industry legend everyone was a little bit in love with and terrified of. God, if only they knew how scared they should really be. The hero had been awed. 

They’d seemed so nice in person, so soft and gentle compared to the visions they displayed. 

The villain hummed once more, that small smile still curled along their lips. 

The hero had done sittings for them, for fuck’s sake. They’d spent hours alone with them, lulled by the smell of acrylics and oils and plastic sheets on the floor. They’d thought it was peaceful, that the villain could sit so still for so long in a world that moved so fast. But it wasn’t peace, was it? It was the same stillness of a snake in the grass, waiting to strike - the calm of any ambush predator. 

The hero took another step back before they could stop themselves. Cold sweat dripped down their spine. 

This time, the villain took a step forward too, perfectly timed to mimic the movement like some dark reflection. Their smile grew. They thought this was funny. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me why?” the villain asked. 

“You’re fucking sick, that’s why.”

“Mm. True,” the villain said. “But you see, don’t you? It’s not just that.”

“That’s the only bit I care about.”

“Not going to try and endear yourself to me to save your skin?”

“Would that work?”

The villain shrugged. “I like lovely things.”

“You also like causing pain.”

“Intense human emotion is the most lovely thing of all.”

“So I’m screwed.”

Something crept past the villain’s mask then, glimmering in the bottomless pit of their eyes. Why did people always say ‘deep, soulful eyes’ like it was a good thing? There was no telling what lay in the deep, no telling what kind of soul might be lurking beneath the surface. The hero should have stuck to someone nice and shallow. Safe. 

“It’s been such a long time since anyone has been able to see me,” the villain said. They took another step closer, not mimicking now, and the hero scrambled backwards. “They stare at me all day and give outraged reviews but they’re still so blind. So, you’re a talented student. Take a few deep breaths. Tell me.” The villain’s head tilted the other way. “What do you see?”

The hero saw themselves sprinting full tilt towards the door, because all of the lights of the gallery were on so it felt impossible that such darkness could claw up to them so fast. They saw themselves reaching the door and the villain overtaking them, because the only reason for a predator to move that slowly was because they didn’t think they had to run. 

And the hero saw themselves back at the villain’s private studio, smiling and clutching a cup of tea as they talked. They saw themselves orbiting the villain like they thought themselves circling the sun instead of a black hole. Maybe it was the same thing. Suns and black holes could both kill you just fine.

“You’re not going to kill me,” the hero said. “You want an audience. Someone who understands what you’re doing.”

“Nobody would believe you anyway,” the villain said. “It’s too...” they wet their lips. “Obvious. If I was a monster I’d hide it better.”

The hero let out a horrible, strangled sort of laugh. 

In an instant of distraction, the villain was in front of them. They took the hero’s chin oh so gently in hand, like they were a statue to be admired - the hero certainly froze like stone was all that was left of them. 

The dark thing in the villain’s eyes stared, and stared, and stared. The violence, the hunger for it, simmered. The hero wanted to stop staring back, but they couldn’t quite look away. 

The spell broke as villain plucked the coffee thermos from the hero’s slack hand with a charming wink. “For me? Thanks.” They sauntered past, body brushing despite the gaping space around them. “You’re a sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow, usual time. I’m nearly done with your picture.”

They still had six months left working together.

[muffindaddystyles]

Summary: Y/N's feeling icky about her body, but Harry loves her to bits and pieces, through thick and thin, in health and sick — and he always waits for her to come back to him.

TW: Body dysmorphia.

Y/N's healthy.

All she sucks in is having a sane sleeping schedule due to her UNI otherwise she eats natural goodies, cook and bake home because it comforts her more that way and she works out every evening to stay fit.

Sometimes though, she’s lazy and lacks behind which’s proper humane but deep down it effects her and her mental health more than she admits and she isn’t able to start over again – it mostly happens after her periods.

Harry loves her the way she’s.

Even if she’s clumsy, bumbling, procrastinating, overly enthusiastic to mend her life at 3 am, snotty and sloth-y in her periods, confident and positive around people, kind and loving whenever she comes to meet him, whiny and cuddly when she’s sick, jealous and grumpy with his attention not on her —- he loves her in every way possible, to rivers and to sea his love could never stutter for her ever.

He loves how she’s not overly toned, having soft squishy spots which Harry undeniably wants to admire and kiss shamelessly amount of times -- like -- her plummy pretty thighs that Harry likes to nestle his head in-between making her wriggle and squirm under his grasp, her overly cute tummy that Harry dies to pepper sweet adoring kisses and petal his lips round her belly button, everytime they’re cuddled up his bicep’s always looped her around her tummy to feel it rising up and down in calm rhythm, and oh! her tender titties, they’re actually his favourite babies and he loves to fondle them in his big calloused palms brushing his thumb over the sensitive perky nub and basks in the glittery whimpery mewls of hers.

He loves that she’s curvy and gives zero fucks if she’s skinny or not.

He thinks his baby’s perfect.

So perfect he actually feels the bubbling of devotion and affection filling to the brim of his heart’s chambers and leaking out and upon his ribs tickling him.

Y/N's his person and he worships her with his whole heart.

From some days though, she’s feeling devastatingly insecure about all her things Harry’s in love with and she has no-control over it how much she tries.

Harry’s observing that all with optimism (one of his great quality's that like a lion sly about his prey, he keeps an eye on everything but pretends otherwise). He has his intense gaze fixed on her when she’s taking a look of herself in the mirror for rather too long, running her hands down her body and practically shuddering.

He glances from over his laptop and drops everything he's doing watching her go monkies, sweating buckets and over exercising than her usual time.

He brings her closer and infront of him, pressing her to his chest and coiling his forearm around her shoulders whining a, “Baby..!” when they were brushing their teeth and despite of standing beside him and teasing him occasionally like she usually does she stuffs her face into the crest of his back and hides herself there to have minimal contact with her reflection in the mirror.

Her body dysmorphia spiking dangerously high.

“Deprived me of your cuddles. woke me up so early, granny.” She huffs lying through her teeth and how much his embrace was strong enough to keep her in place she still managed to wiggle out taking her previous cosy position, but he could feel her muscles tensing and an awkward silence falling over them.

He didn’t pry much. He wants to give her as much space as she requires to come back to him hale and hearty, as she always does and whatever happens he never forgets to remind her how much he loves her every night.

..

They were watching rom-coms on Netflix back to back with her curled up into his side with a spongy white wool knitted blanket thrown over them and his cheek was smashed atop her head popping in peanuts every now and then when out of certain she spoke pointing at the actress, “You know she got her ribs removed to get that shrinky waist.” Harry frowned at that. His face itching into disbelief and concern under the bouncing glow of telly.

He affixes his gaze down at her trying to read what’s cooking up in that genius brain of her's which isn’t being very rational and genius right now, they immediately turns soft and caring when she blinks up at him purely.

She squeaks, nose crashing against his collarbones when he scooches her up in his lap grabbing onto her knees to make her straddle his torso and he grumbles cutely when she tries not put all of her weight on him and doesn’t melts into him as his sweet lovie would used to do receiving a smack on her bum on his end.

He’s afraid that an evil version of her chomped onto his dear baby alive.

“Nothing else matters if all ye’ organs are packed safely and healthily inside you,” He tells her brushing loose frays of her hair behind her earlobe and rubs his thumb in gentle strokes over her treacly pulsing point, “Was just telling you ...” She mumbles, dotting touches on his knuckles and playing with his bare cold fingers.

It’s true, she was rambling out facts about the movie and cast out of habit because no-way she’d ever go through any surgeries to change herself to become someone she isn’t.

“Swear!” She yawps out in convincing high pitch when Harry squints down at her with his lips scrunched, one eye twitching in doing so.

“Alrighty. I believe you.” He cradles her cheeks in his palms and brings her mighty close to him to peck her cupid bow, then her bottom lip and the corners of her smiling mouth to suckle generous amount of whines from her and then kisses her lovingly – hands streaming down her spine and then resting atop her dip.

He thought she was ready to come back to him, to share her problem with him and Harry really wanted to bug in, to not let her fight her battle alone and take half of her hardships from her fretting self but guess not.

They were about to have sex when panic seeped in Y/N's eyes and her cheeks blazed up in that of embarrassment as she rushed to switch off the lamps that were the only source of light in their room.

“Moppet.” Harry sighed, knowing exactly what’s happening and she isn’t as foxy in covering it up as she’s thinking herself to be.

“Why wouldn’t y'want me t'see gorgeous self of yours?” His tone punctured and hurt, feeling useless for not knowing how to cheer her up and break her worries down. He smoothens his hands behind her to lock his arm around her waist, fingertips making grape sized indents into the flesh of her hip-bone as she streaks the tip of her nose up and down the crook of his neck, murmuring meekly against his salty skin while he hugs her warmly.

“’M just feelin’ shy.” He giggles at her response puckering his lips against her hairline to pet tiny, tiny kisses there as she fists her hands against his taught chest.

“Not somethin’ I haven’t seen before, love bug.” He blows raspberries against the underside of her jaw and their mouths meet into a messy, giggling, teeth clanking kiss when she sinks into pillows allowing him to cocoon her in his heat.

“I love you, Y/N. No matter what.”

.

The last dam breaker for them was this little get together at Sarah and Mitch's baby shower.

She matched her outfit with Harry. Cute lavender coloured little sweater blouse that was familiar to the baggy baby yarn cardigan Harry was wearing, it accentuated her curves and her bosom so prettily -- her midriff peeking from where the buttons weren’t closed and their jeans were painted (they did it themselves one Sunday when it was extra boring and inactive).

Y/N felt uncomfortable in her own clothes. A bitterness spreading inside her for herself and all she wanted was to escape away from her own skin.

She knows she’s loved and welcomed and cherished by her friends and family and the love of her life, most importantly. Then why was she feeling so icky about herself? Why everything's draining her and exhausting her?

Harry obviously could see through the gloomy tenebrous energy overshadowing her as he stood in the corner of the room grabbing the sorbet he poured in two glasses for them.

A sour guzzle of tears choking his throat and his limbs weakening letting the painful heartbreak seep into him when he watches her being fidgety and fiddling with the loops of her jeans, tugging her blouse every passing second and he’s sniffling a hiccup deep in his lungs when she shrinks into herself in dejection staring out of the window without any purpose.

Harry feels awful to startle her when he plops down beside her, coodling her closer to himself and tucks her head beneath his chin subtly and cups his palm under her jaw to make her look in eyes his eyes.

“Hi beautiful,” His tone had a saddening waver in it and his irises mossed bleak when Y/N remains unresponsive, zoning in and out of her own head feeling herself prisoned into her own invasive thoughts.

“You w'na go home darling?” He gives her a wet smile clearing his throat and blinking the stubborn moisture in his eyes away when Y/N nodded without any vivid expression.

All the way back home he denounced himself of not making her feel loved enough, to not to pest her soon about what she’s feeling and letting her slide deeper into the dark hole.

He thinks he’s a piece of shit.

.

Y/N wanted to dig the earth with her own nails and hide into it and never show her face again, she was overly ashamed of herself.

His hand was holding onto hers tightly, never letting it go as he led them through the hallway and his head perked up in confusion when she stopped them abruptly and lunged to wrap herself around him like he’s the last silver of her hope and the reason to live.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry.” There comes the first sob after ages of suffering and bottling it all in, not shocked at all he was expecting it to happen. Gently he picks her up and wraps her legs around him, keeping his support firm under her bum as she cried into his soft white t-shirt.

Carefully he sits them on the edge of the bed and tries to pry her soaky flushed face in his cradle but she refuses to show him, clutching onto his cardigan and whimpering brokenly.

“I just feel so disgusting,” Her sob scratches out of her throat and for a second he thought he heard her wrong, that her feeble crying’s playing some kind of a sick game with his heart.

“Harry do something I don’t want to feel disgusting.” But, when she pleaded helplessly a cold shiver settled in his bone marrow spreading an agonising burn in his stomach.

Gently he stirs her away from his chest to look at her, meeting their foreheads together while his thumb wiped her tears away and smoothed over her wabbly lips in profound tenderness.

“My beloved,” He whispers fondling his nose against hers and her eyes flutters into realm of calms, shaky breath falling over his lips as he brings her trembling fingertips towards them and pecks them feverishly.

“The love of me life, me heart.” He continues, “Shhh. Shh baby ‘s okay to cry but don’t tire y'self.” He hushes her when she whimpers loudly at his coy affirmation.

“I’m here with you, waiting f'you, watching y’goin’ through a stony path so I could be there to hold you whenever you trip –-,” He pets her hair, cupping the back of her neck to plant his lips bitten red from worry to her puffy damp eyelids and Y/N becomes a gooey lax of candle that’s been burning for tiring amount and finally her lover came to blew the agonising flame away putting her to peace as he coos snuggling her in his cordial embrace, “You’ve been so strong to yourself and ‘m so proud of me baby.”

“I’m always here. Never away from you, always right by y'side.” His palms bending around her ribs to smush her as intimately close as possible.

“How d'ya want your huggies babylove?” He simpers down at her darlingly, huffing out in relief seeing her relaxing -- her shoulders sinking from him massaging the knots in them.

“Tight.” She mumbles timidly. The gleam in her glossy eyes returning when Harry hugs her as she wished, squishing her in right places and not suffocating her at all – their breaths in sync chests flushed against eachother.

“I love you cuddly, and care f’you.” He kisses her on lips then goes to hug her right back.

“I love you too, Har. Thank you.” She sniffs in his woodsy scent grazing her touch up and down his back, smooching a soft kiss at his cheek.

[shoutogepi]

Newlyweds

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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.3k 

[ ☀︎, ✘ (𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝟏𝟖+) ]

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : quickie, oral (reader receiving), creampie, bathroom sex, pwp with a hint of feels

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : Your new husband can’t wait until your wedding night to appreciate your body, so he convinces you to give him ten minutes before your wedding reception instead.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : so this isn’t really bday-ish, but!! i love him so much, and thinking about marrying him makes me emotional so… here’s this! happy birthday to my one and only mans, sho <3 wishing i could spend the day with him & shower him in gifts and love~~

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : Y/MOH/N = your maid of honor’s name

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   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄶iggles bubble past your lips, only to be returned by the sound of your boyfriend’s half-hearted shushes. Scratch that— he’s not your boyfriend, not even your fiancé— he’s your husband. The newfound fact makes happiness rush through your body, your heart as full of love as your hands are with his lapels.

Shouto’s laughing, the sound of his content making your ears ring and body sing with mirth. “Gentle, love,” he admonishes, craning his neck away from your lips’ attack. “You’ll ruin your makeup, and then y/moh/n will have me by the throat.” But his attempt at evading your advances falters, and he gladly, softly presses his mouth to yours, a low hum rumbling in his throat.

Instead of plunging his lithe fingers into your hair as he usually does, he cups your jaw in his hands and pulls your face close, leaning down to erase any distance between your mouths. A moment passes, allowing your tongues to caress one another. You break away, a string of saliva connecting your parted mouths as you stare at each other, the same amount of love and desire swirling in both of your gazes. “I’m the only one who gets to have you by the throat,” you state, nipping at his neck playfully with your teeth, careful to keep your stained lips off of his skin.

“No marks,” Shouto chuckles at the same time he gasps, his hands dropping to your waist, thumbing over the intricate details of your dress. He steps forward, corralling you back until your bottom hits the marble countertop at the sink, your head tilting back as his wet kisses trail down your neck. “Not yet, anyway… we’ll have to save that for tonight, baby. Ugh, I can hardly wait.” His fingers move to cup your breasts through your dress, giving them a firm squeeze as his mouth lowers to kiss at your cleavage.

“Nnn, Sho—” you moan quietly, restraining yourself from carding your fingers through his silky locks and messing up his hair. “Faster, we don’t have a lot of time…”

He pulls back from your chest after planting a kiss on the top of each of your tits, his intense gaze piercing into your soul and sending warmth to your cheeks. “I wish I could take my time with you… You are so gorgeous, my love. I barely got through the pictures without a hard-on,” he bites his lip while his eyes flick over your body before he yanks a few paper towels from the pile in between the sinks, throwing them haphazardly on the floor and the counter behind you. Then, he discards his jacket, hanging it on one of the stalls before he drops to his knees before you, ushering you to sit on the ledge he prepared.

You do as he instructs, your legs spreading as he situates himself between them, his hands eagerly pushing up the luxurious material of your skirt. “Later,” you answer his wish, your hands taking the bunched up material from his while his hands move to instead curl around your thighs, tugging your body to teeter right on the edge of the countertop. “We have our whole lives, baby. We can take our time th— ahh!”

Shouto cuts you off as he kisses your clit through your lacy lingerie, pressing his face right against your cunt and breathing in your arousal. He nuzzles your panties first, then pushes them aside for his tongue to immediately separate your slickening folds from bottom to top, circling the tip of his talented muscle around your clit. Your hips buck in his hold as you try to hold in the moans that so desperately want to escape, your breathing becoming heavy. But his firm grasp on your thighs holds you down, rending your lower half unable to move.

He laps at your slit with fervor, his tongue wriggling between your petals and stroking generously over your clit with every swirl. Your shoes click against the tile below as they fall off of you, your foot moving to press against the thick cock underneath his slacks that strains to reach for you. He hisses at your touch, his length leaking in his underwear as he devours your pussy, your arousal beginning to coat his lips while he shakes his head back and forth.

“Fuck, Shouto… that feels amazing,” you pant, your hand coming to rest on top of his head and push his face closer to you.

He moans into your core, lips slurping up your clit and tongue caressing the sensitive pearl. Your toes curl as a finger finds your soaked entrance, the tip of it gliding up and down your slit in a tauntingly slow oval, all the while his tongue lashing at your bundle of nerves. “Mmm,” he mumbles, taking a fresh breath of air as his finger pushes inside of you, your walls stretching to welcome the digit. “My wife tastes so fucking good,” he purrs, smirking as he feels you clench at the words, your hand dropping to overlap his on your thigh, the skin touching the band around his ring finger sizzling.

A second finger slips inside, the pair reaching deep inside of you, searching for that spongy spot that he knows will make you cry out for him. It doesn’t take long for him to find it, and he’s not at all surprised when you let out a choked groan, your hand flying up to cover your open mouth as your cunt wrings tight around him. His tidy fingernails brush against your velvet walls, stimulating you to the max as his mouth busies itself again with your puffy clit.

Your eyelids are drooping, the fake lashes fluttering as you struggle to keep your eyes open and focused on your husband going to work between your legs. “Uhhhn, Shouto, I’m gonna cum~” you whine, falling back onto your elbows and the top of your head brushing against the mirror.

It only spurs him on, tracing your clit in his mouth faster as his fingers keep the same pace and curl. He alternates between sucking and kissing, knowing how much it drives you crazy to have him making out with your cunt. Legs starting to shake around his head, you gasp as you fall headfirst into your climax, body going rigid as you tighten up around him. The ecstasy he brings you dunks your body into a pool of sweet, serene euphoria, and you’re too busy trying to breach the surface to even notice as he pulls you off the counter, fingers leaving your quivering cunt empty and wetter than ever.

Shouto stands, spinning you around so the front of your dress is pressed into the paper towels on the countertop, his hands bunching your skirt high enough so that he can see the backs of your trembling thighs. Then he’s pulling down his slacks half way down his thighs, his cock already shining with a sheen of precum drooling from his swollen tip. He moans as he rubs it against your slicked hole, fingers grabbing your cheeks to spread your body and watch how your pussy swallows his length greedily.

You barely have the strength to prop yourself up on your forearms as he thrusts to the hilt inside of you, trying to be mindful of the makeup your bridesmaids had spent so long perfecting. His name falls from your lips as he thumbs over your stretched opening, letting his hips retreat just so he can push himself inside ever so slowly.

“You look so beautiful taking my cock like this,” he huffs, eyeing the lewd expression painted on your face while his thrusts start to pick up. The slap of his heavy balls against your clit has your jaw hanging open, overstimulating you and causing your eyes to roll back. Shouto grunts, his cock twitching inside of you as he stares at your reflection in the mirror, gaze eventually dropping to the platinum band on his finger.

There’s so much emotion built up from hearing you recite your vows to him, from looking into your eyes and seeing the same affection peering back at him, from pulling you into his arms and dipping you down in front of all of your loved ones, sealing your marriage with the best kiss of his life. He can scarcely believe you’d said yes when he had dropped to one knee and asked you to spend the rest of his life with him— and he felt like he was in a dream when you’d echoed “I do” after him just an hour ago. He’s never felt like this about anyone, never thought that he deserved to be loved by anyone like you, never even known that a love like this could really exist.

“I love you,” he chokes out suddenly, his hands moving to fondle your body, trying to convey his feelings even though this is supposed to be just a simple quickie. He cups your stomach in one hand, feeling how it just barely stretches as he sheathes himself inside of you, his other hand curling around your thigh to keep your body in place as he feels his orgasm approaching. “I’m gonna make you so happy, love, I promise— fuck, I promise.”

His confession makes your body sing with elation, your breath fogging the glass as you pant for him. “I know, Sho—  nnn god, I love you,” you whimper, barely holding it together as the hand on your stomach stretches so his fingertips can rub your clit with vigor. You’re fully overstimulated now, losing your mind at the pleasure that courses through you with each swing of his powerful hips. “Please cum inside, please…”

Shouto’s hand on your stomach jumps to your waist suddenly, and then he’s pounding into your cunt with reckless abandon, the ends of his dress shirt tickling your ass with each thrust. Just before he finishes, his left hand covers yours, your rings touching together as his fingers lace between your own and curl tight around your palm. He looks at the metal bands as he paints your insides white with his thick load, moaning all the while into your ear while he nuzzles into the back of your neck.

Silence save for your ragged breaths fills the bathroom for a moment, Shouto’s arm loosely hugging around your waist and pressing his body as flush against yours as he can with your clothes still half-on. He plants a gentle kiss on your cheek before he stands, grabbing a few more of the fancy towels on the counter and holding them underneath you as he pulls out. His breathing is still a little rough as he dabs at your sloppy cunt, instructing you to push out as much of his release as you can so you won’t have it dripping down your thighs during the reception. Carefully he cleans the both of you off, his lips quirked up into a sly smile as he puts your panties back into place, helping you into your shoes once again and making sure your dress falls to the floor as perfectly as it did before he ravaged you. Neither of you have to speak as you fix each other up, a shared smile of intimacy on both your faces.

Once the both of you have resituated yourselves as best you can, Shouto presses a lasting kiss to your temple, his fingers stroking over your back soothingly. “I love you” he murmurs, lips still pressed to your hairline. Repeating the words back, you smile up at him and indulge in a little nose nuzzle, pecking his grin as he guides you out of the bathroom.

The door resists as it bumps into someone, revealing Midoriya with his hands cupped over his ears, eyes closed, and face beet-red. Bakugou is slouching on the opposite wall, and he kicks the green-haired man in the shin as he watches the pair of you exit the bathroom.

“Took you long enough,” Bakugou grumbles, and though he’s putting on a tough-guy facade as usual, there’s a tiny dusting of pink across his cheeks. “Ten minutes my ass...”

Midoriya can’t seem to look you or Shouto in the eye, instead focusing on the boutonnière gracing Shouto’s breast pocket. “Ah, your reception entrance is scheduled to be in three minutes…” The poor man finally glances at you, eyes going wide and coughing as he looks away again, immediately deflecting your stare. “And um… y/n, you should probably uhh… fix your lipstick b-before then, I’ll go grab y/moh/n!”

Bakugou cackles at the other man’s bashfulness while he dashes off, and you feel your body heat up as you become flustered. You’d known that the pair were standing guard outside, but you hadn’t really thought about the possibility of them actually hearing your activities. The explosive blonde only shakes his hand and shoves his hands in his suit pockets, strolling off to leave the two of you alone for a minute, giving you space before you’re to be crowded around and fussed over for the rest of the night.

Shouto squeezes your hand to grab your attention, his smirk melting into a genuine smile as his soft eyes linger on your heated face. “Ready for our first dance, Mrs. Todoroki?” he murmurs, knowing fully well you’re still in a state of satiated bliss, and that he’ll have to hold you up the entire time. But it doesn’t really matter, because he also knows that you’re extra lovey-dovey after he’s made you cum, and he would carry you around the dancefloor all night if it means that he gets to be your one and only.

“So ready,” you sigh, leaning into his sturdy chest. You’re ready for your first dance, and all of the other firsts that a married couple may encounter, so long as you get to be with him.

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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...this is major cheese and no i will not apologize for it. 🧀💗💍

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[youryanderedaddy]

Best Friends Forever

 Summary: Your best friend finally has you back after all these years, tied up on his bed and ready to learn your lesson.

Tw: nsfw, non-con, slight mention of blood, threats, choking, slight degradation, dirty talk, cursing, infantilization, possessive behavior, patronizing behavior, overuse of petnames, slight dom vibezz 

You knew your boyfriend was a lost cause, an addict so gone he would have done anything for a fix, but you never expected him to stoop so fucking low. 

 You had woken up in a suspiciously familiar place, laying on sheets oh so soft, puffy and white you simply couldn’t mistake the bed you were on. The walls were painted in black and blue, a combination so deeply engraved in your mind you couldn’t shake off the feeling you weren’t trully conscious, but dreaming of a happy yet distant memory of the past. It took you less than a second to realize you were in his room - the one where you had spent so many joyfull sleepless nights back in your youth. The relief was short - lived, though, because the moment you tried to move around, you became aware of the tight rope keeping your sore limbs tied to the wooden bed frame. After a while of twisting and thrashing around while screaming at the top of your lungs for help you finally heard the door open. You hoped you would at last be able to go home now, still desperate to believe this was merely a prank, a way for your junkie of a boyfriend to scare you into giving him money.

 “There is no use trying to escape the bonds, my little love.” His voice emited through the small room, low, smooth as butter and softer than ever. You tried to lift your head and catch a glipse of the person talking, just to make sure you weren’t imagining things or going insane. And there he was in all his glory, the boy, no, the man you knew well looking so different from how you remembered him, but still it felt impossible not to see the many similarities - from the unruly dark curls to the warm gray eyes that used to be your only guide during times of misery and pain. This was none other than your childhood best friend and you had absolutely no idea why you were tied to his bed. “Oliver, why on earth am I here?” You asked as soon as the initial shock had worn off, completely forgetting to address the weird petname the student had called you.

 He smirked slightly before crossing the distance keeping him away from you, and carefully sat down by your left side. He reached out to stroke your cheek in an affectionate way, his fingers lingering for a moment too long for it to be considered a mere platonic gesture. You tried to turn your head away from the warm touch since it made you feel uncomfortable and left you with so many new questions. “I missed you so much, precious.” Oliver took a deep breath and smiled at you, gently moving your jawline so you had no choice but to face him once again. “I was so happy when that disgusting piece of shit you call a boyfriend offered you to me.” The man bent to your shoulder-level and whispered in your ear, his tone so full of sick satisfaction you could swear there was honey dripping from his mouth. “I paid a lot of money to have you back, sweetheart.” He licked his lips in an obscene, suggestive way and you had to supress the sudden urge to vomit as you finally remembered exaclty why you had stopped contacting your best friend once you had started college. The boy used to be clingy, obsessive even, but you could have never guessed it was that bad.

 “Oliver, please untie me, you are scaring me.” You pleaded in a tiny voice, hoping to summon what was left of the goodness he had tucked away deep in his heart. In response the male only chuckled and shook his head as he placed a small kiss against your neck, causing you to shiver in discomfort and disgust while you were mentally debating whether you wanted to kill him or your ex boyfriend first. Soon your spiteful thoughts were replaced by panic when your captor brought his hand to your t-shirt and started unclasping the small buttons one by one. You couldn’t help but turn red from embarassment the moment you felt your nipples harden under his palm and you became painfully aware you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. Your former friend had your tender breasts exposed to the cold air in a matter of seconds, his terrible fingers already pinching and pulling at the erect tips. “You have such pretty tits, darling.” He said huskily while squeezing your boobs, licking and biting the stretched skin. You hissed in pain and squirmed in a desperate attempt to move away but the rope was holding you in place, tightening around your sore injured wrists even more. 

 “I have wanted you for so long, angel.” The student admitted quietly, his stormy eyes fixed on yours, his stare so intense it could burn a hole through you. “Tonight I will make you mine.” Oliver declared with a clear sense of confidence and claimed your lips in a quick rough manner, muffling your pitiful whimpers like a man starved and hungry for flesh. The forced kiss and his deranged words made your stomach turn but something in his longing gaze told you there was a lot more in store. The guess, much to your horror, was soon confirmed when the dark - haired male reached down between your parted legs and easily slipped your panties down to your ankles. With your last bit of protection gone you felt awfully vulnerable, literally naked in front of the beast too keen on the past to see how much he was hurting you right now, in the present. You wanted to scream the second his fat grabby fingers pried your folds open, but choking on your desperate sobs proved easier at that moment.

 “Aww, don’t cry, angel.” Oliver growled playfully and slid his index into your tight entrance, quickly adding a second one before you had the time to adjust properly. “I have to prepare you, baby, otherwise my cock may just tear you apart.” He remarked in low sickening voice, the excuse too crude and vulgar to be an act of caring. You whined as your walls clenched down tight now that there were three fingers stretching your hole, and you berely managed to utter “too full” before your friend pulled you for a deep kiss again, his tongue devouring your mouth, leaving you breathless and queit while sucking in the sweet pained moans. “You can take it, babygirl.” The man groaned against your swollen red lips and grabbed your hips in a strong hold - you were sure there would be purple bruises there tomorrow.

  Eventually, after half an hour of pushing his fingers in and out of your channel, lapping at your neck and leaving wet love marks all over your collarbone, the student was satisfied with his work. He had turned you into a whimpering mess and was ready to thoroughly enjoy the fruits of his labor, whether you liked it or not. “I am going to put it in now, precious.” Oliver pecked you on the cheek just to lick the salty trace of tears off your puffy skin. “I will force my whole length in your perfect little pussy.” Your captor bit your sensitive earlobe and you broke down in tears like a kid, the threat ringing in your ears like the gospel. “This might hurt a bit so I advise you to stay still and relax, baby.” The way the man continued casually, almost cheerfully, as if he wasn’t about to brutally rape you, made your skin crawl, but there was nothing you could do. You were all tied up, powerless to stop him. Suddenly, without any warning, his hard thick member entered you, piercing pain spreading through your whole body. The student panted in pleasure as soon as he thrust his manhood into your heat, the way it sucked him in leaving him high and blissful. You let a few miserable whimpers, the ache too much to bear, his moves too harsh, sudden and deep. 

  “Don’t give me such a-agh tormented expression, my love.” Oliver quickly shushed you by putting his hand over your mouth and pressing down to prevent any noise that might have escaped. His gaze was lustful, insane, but also loving in a twisted, perverse way. “Fuck, I love you so much.” He muttered, his voice gentle for a split second before going back to being taunting and mocking. “I used to be so angry each and every time you dated another guy, another asshole who was only after your body.” The man was rambling now, his face turning red at his own vicious thoughts, his growing anger reflecting in his cloudy pupils and his painful thrusts. “You always chose them over me like a stupid little bitch ...” He whispered dangerously and lifted your body towards his own so you could take his hits even deeper, so deep that you could feel the tip of his member kissing your cervix. “Well, now you don’t have a choice, angel. I have claimed you and I will keep you here forever.” You were crying out in agony, your pussy clamping down around the enormous length slapping again and again against your core. It burned so bad you wished you could dissapear somewhere far away just so you could have a moment of relief. “Oh, sweetheart, I know it hurts, but it’s almost over, you can take it for me, right?” The male cooed at you, switching back to that disgusting, infantilizing baby voice you had already grown to despise. When you failed to respond he gripped your throat, squeezing so tightly blood rushed to your cheeks and you inhaled sharply though your mouth only to feel the suffocation cut your breath short. “Answer me.” He barked through gritted teeth and you nodded frantically, desperate to gasp for air and cling onto dear life. 

 “Good girl.” Your former friend purred, pleased with your obedience, and let go of your neck, grabbing your hips instead. You coughed and drooled pathetically until you managed to resume your breathing, but the man, still buried deep inside you, seemed too caught up in chasing his own pleasure to notice how badly he had hurt you. Fortunately for you Oliver was really close, that much was obvious by his furious shoves at your abused cervix and his low growls each time he lowered his head to kiss you. Soon he came with a loud moan, painting your walls white, your ruined hole dripping with his seed and your blood. 

 Your captor seemed satisfied afterwards, peaceful in a way - there was a small smile adorining his cold lips as he wiped the tears off your face and squished your bruised body against his strong frame in a tight hug. You bit your tongue to stop the tears from overflowing once again, but to no avail. He let you sob in his arms until there wasn’t liquid left in your red, puffy eyes. 

 “You did very well, my love. I am really proud of you.” Oliver kissed your temple gently, resisting the temptation to graze you all over again with his lips, tongue and fingers. “I will help you clean up, then I will fix you some nice dinner.” He murmured in your ear, tickling the heirs on the back of your neck with his warm breath. “Doesn’t this sound good, baby?”

 You closed your eyes and nodded slowly.