#that is about as close to calligraphy as i could get

[krawdad]

I'm kind of frustrated that I'm learning only now that I actually really like my handwriting if I'm using my "my handwriting is illegible otherwise so I write in all caps block comic lettering" and I use a brush

[andypantsx3]

IF YOU LET ME : TODOROKI SHOUTO x READER

SUMMARY: Disguised as a eunuch in the imperial palace, a mistake on your part leads to your unmasking before the prince. By rights it should mean your death, but Prince Shouto seems to have another plan in mind... CONTENT: Prince Shouto, AFAB fem reader, identity reveal, class differences, slight gender fuckery, historical sexism, implications of past sexual threats, vaguely Heian-era historical Japanese setting, deep historical inaccuracy, SFW (2.2k) NOTES: This was a barely-edited unplanned little thought demon I had to exorcise lol, thank you for being patient with me. Back to our regularly scheduled programming soon.

Your breast bindings were missing.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You flipped your sleeping mat again, clawing through your blankets frantically, hoping you’d somehow missed them the first time. But only the tatami floor stared back up at you—strands of woven rice straw pale and bare.

You muttered a curse under your breath—you’d definitely forgotten to extract your bindings from where you’d shucked off yesterday’s robes, forgotten to squirrel them away before sinking into bed. And now they’d been whisked away by a palace maid to be laundered. Or worse, discovered.

Your eyes darted through your small sleeping chamber frantically, seeking a solution. You were already late for Prince Shouto’s first lesson of the day, and you needed all the time you could get with him today. You’d promised the Minister of Rites that you’d have a word with the prince, to try to persuade Shouto to accept the wife he was so persistently putting his advisors off on.

You were, after all, the prince’s closest confidant—his personal secretary and calligraphy tutor, an unthreatening eunuch from the lower classes with whom Shouto was clearly most at ease. And at least most of that was true—you did have Prince Shouto’s trust, friendship, and respect, as much as a member of the imperial family could bestow on a commoner, anyway.

If he was going to listen to anyone on the subject of taking a wife—at the very least one concubine, if not his future empress—it would be his trusted friend the eunuch.

There was just one very important detail that everyone, even His Highness, was mistaken about on that account.

One blasted detail that could get you killed at best were anyone to figure it out.

Your eyes fell back to your blankets, and you immediately grabbed two fistfuls, yanking as hard as you could until you felt the fabric give, the rip and tear echoing in the small space of your sleeping chamber. You kept ripping until a strip came free, a little smaller than what you usually had to work with.

But you were not about to complain, not at a time like this.

You flung the strip down to scrabble with the tie of your underrobe, unknotting it with fumbling fingers. You were just about to fling it off of you when there was a careful knock against the screen of your door.

You didn’t manage to stifle your reflexive scream, stumbling through a half-executed turn towards the door. The screen was suddenly thrown back with alarming force, Prince Shouto’s figure filling the doorway.

You yanked your shirt closed again, panicking, as you caught sight of the concern on his handsome face. You barely registered the other details, mind tripping over excuses, unable to appreciate the way his shoulders looked all the broader in his sokutai the way you normally did.

“Are you well?” Shouto demanded, his normally soft tone a little ragged. You watched his mismatched eyes dart quickly around your chambers, as if seeking a threat, only to drop back to you when there was none.

“Your Highness,” you said, lost for anything else.

“I heard—there was a scream,” he said, his eyebrows scrunching the tiniest bit.

He always looked his most beautiful when he was confused, you thought, focusing hard on a particular problem. Not that a common woman had any business thinking anything about the crown prince, never mind a woman masquerading as a man. But it was hard to ignore a face that beautiful, the way his gaze sharpened with focus, full mouth pursing as he thought through a problem.

He looked like that now as his gaze darted over you. And then suddenly his eyes dipped to your collarbone, and his features went perfectly, horribly still.

An elegant hand reached back, and he immediately drew the screen closed behind him, eyes never leaving you as he took another step into the room.

You stumbled back, almost tripping over your bedding. You did not dare to turn towards him or away, scuttling sideways instead like a nervous crab.

“Your Highness,” you began again, heart shooting into your mouth when Shouto’s long fingers tangled in your undershirt.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his tone softening. You gripped your shirt closed as hard as you could against the tug of his fingers. “Did something happen?”

“N-nothing,” you stammered, not liking the way it made him clearly more suspicious. “I was just changing.”

But Shouto’s beautiful, cursed eyes dipped to your bedding, where the torn strip lay across your blankets in plain sight. You could almost see the calculation as his eyes widened the tiniest fraction, and his grip tightened on your robes. Of course he’d seen it, and of course it looked like a wound dressing you’d just been about to apply.

He took another step closer, too close, until you could feel the heat of him through your sleeve, smell the sweet blend of dried herbs the servants kept his clothing stored with.

You tried to twist out of Shouto’s grip without rucking up your shirt, but his hold was too strong.

“Let me see,” he ordered in his soft, low tone. Your heartbeat kicked up higher, hammering in your chest so hard it could have broken a rib.

It was a death sentence to ignore an order from a member of the imperial family. It was also a death sentence to reveal what you’d been these many years. You hoped Prince Shouto, something of a friend to you, would let you off lightly for ignoring him.

“Please, Your Highness,” you said, clinging even harder to the closure of your shirt. “I will be ready in just a moment, I am simply running late. I beg your forgiveness.”

But if there was one thing about the crown prince, it was that he was stubborn, bullheaded when it came to the ideas and goals he took seriously. And he had always made it clear he took your friendship seriously.

That perfect mouth shifted into a frown. “I order you to let me see,” he said, his tone still soft but firm. “You will let me.”

You froze under his hands, muscles locking up in panic. Shouto was still between you and the door, and your chambers were not wide enough for you to slip around him without him being able to easily catch you. He was also, unfortunately, extremely quick with sharp reflexes honed by years of swordsmanship. There would be no escaping this situation.

Fuck. Fuck, you were out of ideas.

“Hold still,” Shouto commanded gently, long fingers prying your stiff ones away from the shirt ties. You watched his face in mute panic, not wanting to see the flash of betrayal and disgust, but unable to look away as he prised your robes aside. Shame heated your cheeks.

Shouto’s long eyelashes dipped, before his gaze froze on your chest. For a second, he went as stiff as you. Then he was yanking your robes closed again, a watercolor of pink washing across the bridge of his nose and those high cheekbones.

His eyes darted back to yours, his expression perfectly still though his face was flushed. “You never told me,” he said accusingly.

The right thing to do in this situation was to go to your knees in a kowtow and beg for his mercy, but Shouto still had a grip on your robes and did not look like he meant to let go. You ducked your head in as much of a bow as you could manage, your face warm. “Your Highness, I have no excuse. I have betrayed you.”

When you had concocted this scheme, you had wanted to put yourself beyond the reach of a local official back in your home village. His advances were becoming increasingly aggressive, and as a common woman, you had no recourse. You could only escape into a place where his rule was circumvented by a superior one, where no man would think to have an interest in you.

You had not intended to become Prince Shouto’s tutor, had not anticipated the true risk of your gambit until it was already too late. But you would still rather die than be returned into the hands of your village’s preceptor.

If this is how it ended…

“I have compromised you,” Shouto’s voice startled you out of your memories.

You glanced up at him, befuddled.

Shouto’s fingers twisted in your robes. “Just now, and—all the many times we have been alone until now. I did not know.”

Honor and compromise were the least of your concerns right now, and would matter even less in the event of your death. You did not know where the prince meant to go with this.

“Your Highness, you were not expected to know,” you said, shame coiling in your belly. You would make the same choices you had made over again, if given the chance, but you had never meant to betray Shouto. You had genuinely liked him, and you would regret losing the chance to be by his side in the years to come.

Shouto’s eyes flicked over you in some kind of assessment. He lifted one hand from your shirt, gasping your scholar’s cap and tugging it free from your hair. You felt his fingers tangle so very gently in the strands of your hair, seeking out the ties and pins.

Your own eyes traced over him as he did, drinking in the firm planes of his chest in his sokutai, the dark blue a beautiful contrast with his pale skin. You heard pins dropping to the ground beside you, as Shouto rubbed a strand of your hair between his fingers. He seemed to be evaluating you in a new light, relearning your appearance though a clearer lens.

Disgust and betrayal were not evident in how delicately he was handling you. You did not know what this meant.

“They will put you to death if they know,” Shouto said, eyes slowly moving from the hair between his fingers to your face again. “You cannot hide like this forever.”

You did not know what other choice was to be had. If Shouto did not plan to put you to death himself, then what other choice did you have than to go on pretending?

Shouto’s gaze dropped to your mouth and you realized you’d spoken the thought aloud.

“There is one other way to put you beyond the reach of the court,” he said slowly.

You felt your eyebrows raise in question. “I cannot think of it, Your Highness.”

Shouto absently curled the strand of your hair about his fingers, the little crease between his perfect eyebrows appearing again. He looked the way he did when he played games with his strategy tutor, or when he was thinking hard on a new sword form.

“The ministers wish for me to take a wife,” Shouto said softly. “My household is mine to manage alone.”

Outside the laws of the court, he meant. A strange flutter went through you, heat spotting your cheeks again. Shouto’s presence before you was suddenly magnified a hundred fold, and you became singularly aware of the breadth and height of him, the heat of him almost against you.

“You do not want a wife,” you said, well aware of the many years he’d spent bullheadedly resisting the idea.

“I do not want any the ministers have selected for me,” Shouto corrected.

Your whole body felt flushed again. He meant he was amenable to you.

You had never let yourself think it but he was more than amenable to you as well.

“I would keep you safe,” he promised.

You almost slumped to the floor in relief, only Shouto’s grip on you keeping you upright. You would not die. You would not be returned to your village. You would, through all of this, it seemed, keep Shouto’s friendship.

“I know you would,” you said.

Shouto understood your acceptance. Slowly his fingers untwined themselves from your hair, and he drew your robes more firmly around you. Your body burned hot, still, stomach fluttering under his renewed brand of regard.

“I will arrange it quickly,” Shouto said. “You must stay here. I will send someone for you.”

You nodded.

Shouto looked regretful as he stepped back from you. “We will do it properly, later,” he said. “I will pay my respects to your family.”

You waved a hand frantically, shocked by the idea of the future emperor making his bows in your family’s rundown hut. It was not as though you would be his first-ranked wife or empress! He did not need to pay any respects to the family of a concubine out of a common family!

“There is no need,” you insisted, but Shouto was already turning towards the door. You could see by the set of his shoulders this was another thing he meant to be stubborn about.

“I will honor my first and only wife,” he said, turning to pin you with that heterochromatic gaze.

Your mouth dropped open in shock, but you had no time to reply before he was sliding the door closed behind him again, leaving you alone with the sudden weight of the statement. It had all happened so quickly, you had never expected that Shouto meant what he did.

You wondered what it meant that Shouto had made such a promise so readily, when he had known the truth about you for only minutes.

And you wondered if, like your original entry into the palace, you were getting yourself into something far beyond what you initially understood.

[endearng]

Doomed

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: If you and Spencer had a nickel every time someone teased you after witnessing your interactions, you'd have two nickels, which isn't much — but it's weird that it happened twice. WC: 4.4k Warnings: Mentions of abandonment and I think that's it. Let me know if I missed anything. A/N: HI!!! I'm so obsessed with them... in a normal amount of course. I'm thinking about writing casually for them, who knows... Also,,,, who am I if not a morcia truther….. I hope you enjoy it! Feedbacks are always appreciated <3 neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist

You were doomed from the moment he bid you goodbye.

"So, who's he?" Victoria inquired, a sly smirk on her face and a bashful expression on yours.

"Who's who?" You asked, trying to feign nonchalance.

She groaned playfully, "You know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't." You winked, sitting on your couch again, between the two women. Sex and the City was playing on the TV across from the three of you.

"You're acting like us as freshmen when the seniors looked at us—" she retorted.

"I thought we didn't talk about that," Jude deadpanned.

"You're 'I don't know what you're talking about' me? I thought we were friends!" Victoria poked you in the rib.

"Ouch! He's just a friendly neighbor, that's it." You said, trying to cut the subject. Jude looked at you suspiciously. "White wine time."

From Spencer's apartment, he could hear the sound of chatter, joyful laughter and opening bottles for the rest of the night. He didn't know how to feel by your invitation, now that he had calmed down after looking you in the eye for a moment, technically, all by yourselves. He would definitely feel inappropriate at a kid's birthday where he barely knew the people who invited him, but he thought that Olivia's gesture was amazingly endearing. What could possibly be more childishly adorable than an infant trying to help and making a 'mistake'? And what could possibly be more devastatingly endearing than a mother taking advantage of said mistake to make it right?

Spencer studied the card for a moment. It fit the palm of his hand, tiny and delicate. It had a different address from yours and the time of the party, all of it lovely handwritten, just like the letters from calligraphy practice notebooks. It seemed like Olivia put a lot of effort in trying to perfect her handiwork. It read:

Hey, it's Oli!

I'm turning six and I want to celebrate it with you!

The contents of the slip of paper were adorned by dainty drawings related to birthdays: party hats, cake, gifts, some decoration and so on. It suddenly dawned on him that he was actually becoming closer to the people he always thought lived a perfect life. His mind had a tendency to wander and, for a fleeting moment, he thought about what it would be like to be part of that perfect life.

Olivia was a perfectionist child. He saw the expected behavior of the age in her manners, but the care with her work almost made him think someone else had done it for her. Something told him it wasn't the case, though.

Secured by two magnets, he placed Olivia's birthday party invitation on his fridge. You know, just so he wouldn't forget it — he tried to convince himself.

Everybody knew about his otherworldly memory, but he decided to forget it purposefully.

"Good morning, good ghost. I didn't see you anymore." Olivia greeted as she saw Spencer in front of the elevator. You were just locking your door closed, hyping yourself up for the week ahead of you when you heard it and a shiver ran down your spine. This, whatever it was, was getting out of hand.

"Good morning, Miss Olivia!" He said, a sweet tone of voice. You melted. "It's true. It's been a while. I was here on the weekend, but it seemed like you had other plans." He stuck his hand out for her to shake. She did it in a heartbeat.

"I was with my grandma and grandpa. They took me to the movies and grandpa made me lasagna." She explained as you approached them, adjusting your bag and Olivia's backpack in each of your arms. "Did'ya get my birthday party invitation?"

"Yes, I did! Thank you for inviting me. But, you know, your mother probably needed the rest of them for the other guests." He said as the elevator opened. He gestured for you to enter it first, so you did it with a grateful nod.

"Sorry, mommy. I didn't mean it." Olivia looked at you briefly, ashamed that you would call her out.

"I know, baby, 's okay. Everyone has one now." You assured her with a light tone. Breathe. "Hi, Spencer. Good morning." You said as he joined you in the elevator.

He breathed out, "Good morning. Hi." He had a big smile on his face, standing right next to you, you both facing the door and Olivia in front of you. Internally, he felt like a puppy who had his owners’ undivided attention.

Olivia pressed the button to the lobby. You noticed a book in his hands. Courage. "So, what are you reading, Spencer?"

He gulped. Were you talking to him? It took him a moment to get a grip and realize that he hadn't answered you. Struggling to find the words and suddenly unable to remember what he was actually reading. "Me? I'm just re-reading one of Dostoievski's books. Notes from Underground."

"Dosto-what?" Olivia chipped in.

You looked at her, ready to tell her to not interrupt someone, but couldn't stop yourself from giggling. Spencer watched it fondly. "It's Dostoievski, baby. D'you remember that one book with the 'ugly' cover that mommy was reading the other day?" You asked her, air quoting the word 'ugly'. “It wasn’t ugly. It just wasn’t pink.” You explained it, looking at Spencer. He grinned.

"Yeah. You didn't read to me because it was work." She said, getting distracted with one of her braids.

"Are you a teacher?" He asked, intrigued.

"No. I actually work for a publishing company. Sometimes I have interesting content to revise." You said, a tinge of irony in your voice. He smiled at you, feeling comfortable enough to joke around him without the awkwardness of that first encounter.

The elevator door opened. Olivia jumped out. "I bet it's interesting," was the best he could come up with. Tongue tied.

“Yeah. It’s a good book.”

Like a fucking teenager, he watched as you left with your daughter. Your mixed laughter echoing in the lobby as Olivia spinned around while you carried the weight all by yourself.

He scolded himself for not remembering to offer you help.

Two days later, a few states over, Spencer sat on a chair at the conference room of the precinct they were working with. The case was exhausting and he just wanted it to be over, but it wasn't that simple. He waited for Derek Morgan — he was his ride that night back to the hotel they were crashing on. He was in front of Derek as he and Penelope talked, her image on the computer screen. The man's nonchalant tone was a riddle for her to unsolve — everyone else was aware that there was definitely something between them (an unspoken dictionary worth of words), even if their interactions were deemed as jokes. Penelope, feeling very shy, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at her lap after a particular comment about her smile. As she did so, her eyes caught a glance of her watch. "Oh, shoot. I have to go," she murmured, relieved to have a way out of the exchange that had high chances of turning her into a nervous wreck. "I'm so sorry, handsome! Tomorrow is one of my friend's daughter's birthday."

A flash of disappointment crossed Derek's features. Not that she'd noticed. Instead of pressing her, he chose to say, "Need extra energy to keep up with the kids, babygirl?" Ah, there was it. The teasing tone. She was definitely imagining things.

"Not as much as I need to keep up with you, tiger," she replied with a wink, the dynamic between them quickly shifting back to the usual playful banter. Both of them wanted more than playful and far more than banter, but none of them had the courage to admit it, to be straightforward about it. Spencer understood it, really. Speaking made things too real. "But, seriously. I totally forgot to pick up her gift. Olivia loves reading, so I'll go to the mall. I'm glad I already bought it, so I won't get home late."

If he was a dog, Spencer's ears would have definitely perked up from how quickly he associated one thing to another. Could it be the same Olivia? Your Olivia? "Okay, mama. Be safe." Derek said.

"I will," she smiled as she hung up.

Idiots.

Maybe Derek was too serious about the "no profiling each other" rule they set.

"Let’s go, pretty boy," The dark-skinned agent stated. Spencer got up, grabbed his bag and made his way to the elevator with her.

As they chatted about nothing in particular, walking out of the precinct, he desperately wanted to ask him if she truly didn't see past Penelope's sudden shyness. It wasn't in his nature to do that, of course, but as Derek and Penelope were two of the most important people in his life, he wondered why wouldn't they be a thing by now, since they enjoyed themselves so much and were so open about their affections towards one another.

He was quickly ripped away from his thoughts when the man suddenly spoke up, “So, what's your deal lately, Reid? What's she like?"

The doctor choked on his own saliva, which made him cough like crazy. Derek laughed, but tried to help his panicked friend. "What was that, man?" he asked worriedly, once he saw Spencer had finally inhaled a gulp of air.

Face as red as a tomato, cough dying in his throat, "what was what?" Derek returned to his normal self once he noticed his friend was able to finally form a coherent sentence.

"You're gonna act dumb now that you almost died when I talked about her?" Derek questioned, teasing tone, "it was just a lucky guess, but I see you, Reid. You're daydreaming far too often for what's acceptable for the boy genius who's as focused as a laser beam."

Spencer looked straight ahead as they got to the exit. He should have cornered Derek first. "Why would you think it has anything to do with a 'her'?" He chuckled, nervous to be caught red-handed — even if he wasn't doing anything wrong.

Was it wrong to want? He felt like it was. All his life, really. Had no chance to want anything because either was a far too distant reality, person, happiness for him to grasp it or it was ripped away from him too soon, before he could even acknowledge what was happening inside him. That's why want was almost a foreign sensation for Spencer. He had been deprived of it for as long as he could remember.

"Because people get a little dumb when they're in love. At least, ordinary people do. Apparently, so do geniuses," he snickered, his mind also set on teasing Spencer.

Maybe it was dumb to reveal his secret, jaw dropping crush on his cute neighbor, but he wanted some sort of relief to that mess of tangled thoughts inside his head and the strange, to say the least, feelings brewing on his chest whenever he saw you. You barely knew each other. But he supposed it was yet another part of the want he wasn’t familiar with: it didn't need much and it took all consciousness out the door. It wasn't uncommon for him to feel like his heart was being ripped out of his chest whenever he was on the field, especially since he was often facing danger. The way the events were unfolding were scarily similar to his cases: he noticed you, made up theories based on your behavior and routine, and slowly, oh, so slowly, started to approach you. Not to put you away, but for more personal reasons.

What was different was the feeling in his heart, instead of the sensation of being squeezed painfully inside his ribcage, often leading to ragged breathing, now felt like it was being held delicately by a pair of caring, dainty hands. Either way, his heart was fighting in the frontline and relied on the other part to be calmed and saved. The least he could do was try to be careful, finally opting not saying anything to Derek.

"Just a lot on my mind lately," he chose to say, instead. Derek dropped the subject, too tired to press it further.

Olivia's party had come to an end an hour ago. You got to see old friends and talked until they got every single ounce of information about your life lately and so did you about theirs. Your daughter had enjoyed her party greatly, and hugged every. single. person. who came to wish her happy birthday and thanked them for being there. She paid little attention to the gifts, too focused on spending time with her friends, playing with them until the sugar rush wore off — all of them had a massive candy intake that day. You didn't spend much time with her, but she promised you that she would unwrap her gifts the next morning with you, the most adorable toothless grin on her face.

Despite everything flowing accordingly, all day long, your stomach churned with anticipation. You wondered if Olivia's dad would show up, since the day she was born was, quote, the happiest of his life. His parents did, and when you looked at them anxiously, his mother shot you a neutral glance. Not a word from his end was its meaning. Your daughter never asked anything about him during the day, which made you even more jittery. You feared she would have a breakdown at any time, so you paid extra attention to her.

It never came.

You had missed the deadline of a book chapter that you had to revise, too caught up on trying to balance everything in your life, so your parents told you they'd stay with her so you could go home to work and take her in the morning. Normally, you wouldn't accept it, but your father had decided you were too tired to wake her to go home, so you complied. Right after the guests left, you did all the steps of her night routine, except for the bedtime story — she was that tired of all the running around in the backyard. You were sure she would sleep all night long.

Once she dozed off, you stood for a moment in her grand-bedroom (she had come up with that and it kind of stuck with you). Your parents had decorated it while you were still pregnant. She needs to feel at home, was what your mother said when you walked in on them assembling her crib. You almost cried, overwhelmed with joy. Your fiancé, then, had rolled up his sleeves to help out. Oh, the irony.

Her room was full of photographs that held many memories of her six years of life. You could never imagine that you could love this much, let alone dedicate yourself so entirely to someone like you did for her. Even though it was hard and you often didn't feel like you were enough to raise her on your own, Olivia was a wonderful child and her gestures and overall behavior assured you you were doing a good job. The reflection brought tears to your eyes. You drove home by yourself.

Currently, in your apartment, it felt a little too big without Olivia in there — too many books, too many chairs, too much space on your sofa, too many toys scattered around with nobody to play with them. You sighed, deciding on going to the kitchen to make you a cup of tea — you felt like your brain was hammering inside your skull and you still needed to spend time in front of a computer screen. Going back to your small office to wallow in self pity and second guess yourself even as you read whatever material it was, you heard a knock on the door.

You checked your watch. 9p.m. On a Saturday.

Weird.

Through the peephole, you saw someone you truly weren't expecting. "Spencer?" You asked as you opened the door, surprise filling your being. "I didn't think you'd come, I supposed you were at work. I mean, sometimes it feels like you barely have a routine, heh. But, um, thanks for dropping by." You said, a little unfiltered. Not even five seconds in his presence and you were already making a fool of yourself in front of him.

He held a small bouquet of flowers in one of his hands and a gift in the other. To a stranger's eye, it seemed like he had missed your birthday and was trying to apologize for it. You blushed at the thought. He shut his eyes, sorry crossing his features. "I know. I'm sorry I missed it, even though I really didn't want to. You were right, I was away on a case." You smiled, dismissing his apologies and soothing his worries once you did so.

"It's alright with me. She was totally expecting you, though. Kept asking where you were for the first hour. Then she got distracted with candy," you told him, "so she's the one you're gonna need to apologize to." You joked.

"T—that's why I'm here."

"I'm just not sure if Olivia is old enough to get flowers," you said, face serious. His eyes went wide and it took him a moment to understand, but once he looked at your serious expression cracking, his shoulders shook with laughter, with you. If you had more attention, you'd seen the moment his ears turned red.

Your laughter died down. A beat of silence. "These are actually for you." He revealed.

You were stunned. "Oh," you said, suddenly at a loss of words. "Thank you so much."

He gave you the flowers and you gracefully accepted. You were mesmerized by them; colors swimming in harmony before your eyes and the scent making you feel dizzy. Maybe not the scent, but the emotions you were feeling with the surprise. He went out of his way to get you those flowers — it's safe to say that it had been a while since you felt that way. "I—I have no words, Spencer. Really. Thank you so much," your voice choked.

You looked at each other for a brief moment. You tried to show how much you appreciated his gesture. You grinned, trying to get out of that haze, "Do you want to come in? Oli's with my parents, so you won't be able to apologize today," you quipped, making room for him to enter.

"Yeah, I'd love to."

"You can place the giftbox on the coffee table." He went inside, toeing off his shoes in the small space you had before the living room. Once he was there, he saw you enter the kitchen to find a vase. He could see you from where he stood. "Make yourself at home. Do you want some tea? I have Earl Gray."

Your voice was distant as he took in his surroundings. "Yeah, I'd like it." He murmured as he looked around. Your walls were a light gray, adorned with pictures of you and Olivia, some people he assumed were some of your friends. The wall behind the sofa was entirely covered by a big bookshelf that went from one end to the other, filled with books and souvenirs from basically everywhere. The dark wood of the furniture complemented the light walls in a cozy way, some toys and kids books scattered around the floor. The apartment smelled like fresh printed sheets of paper and earl gray tea. You had a few indoor plants that looked well taken care of. Spencer was admiring your degree from Stanford, which hung on the wall beside the TV, almost close to the door.

"One of my biggest achievements. Besides Olivia, of course," you approached him with his mug of tea. Turning to you, he noticed through his peripheral vision that you had placed the flowers inside a vase and in your coffee table.

"Thanks," he said.

"So... are you okay?"

The question caught him off guard. What?

You smiled a little. "You always look kinda tired when I see you," you said, not thinking about how your words might be interpreted. Your eyes widened, realizing it. "I mean, no! Sorry! You're still pretty, don't worry. It's just— I asked because you might be going through something. Forget I said anything about your looks."

He would definitely never forget.

Spencer laughed, flustered, eyes softly gazing at you while you rambled like a madman. "I'm fine, thanks for asking. Sometimes my job is a little demanding and I'm forced to see some things that usually people don't even think exist," he confessed.

You bit your lip. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be," he retorted, "I have a great team to work with."

"I'm glad to hear that. Sorry I brought it up, you probably don't want to talk about work right now." You said, sipping on your tea.

"Yeah, you're right, again," he chuckled. "How was Olivia's birthday?" He tried a change of subject.

"That was actually the reason I was moping when you got here," you said, trying to force a chuckle. "It was nice, I guess. I was just on edge all day trying to anticipate her emotions regarding her dad, but I guess they never came. At least, not today." You beckoned him to sit with you on the couch, now facing each other directly.

"May I ask why?" He asked, tentatively.

"Why what?"

More hesitance. "Why wasn't he there?"

"From what I know, he moved away." You said, tone unreadable.

He worried that he was overstepping and wasn't sure that he would like to hear more about it. He was scared to find out unpleasant news, such as you still had feelings for him. "I'm sorry." Was all he could muster.

"Don't be. I have a great team," you repeated his words from earlier and he smiled at you.

His brain and tongue didn't seem to be working together that night, he was so avid to know more. "Did you always have support?"

"My parents didn't like the idea of having a single mother when they first heard it. It hit me hard back then, but then I realized it was better to be alone than to stay in an unhappy relationship, especially since Olivia was already in the picture." You said, setting your own mug on the coffee table.

"What happened?" Stop it.

He couldn't help it, he was too curious. It was his first opportunity to truly know the novel sort of family that you had. Apparently, not so much.

"He was distant before leaving. Someone else, maybe?" You asked, rhetorically, a crease between your eyebrows. "I never found out, but I don't want or need to, either. His parents absolutely love Olivia and they were there today, 's all that matters."

"You’re a very strong person."

"I have to be," you said, softly. "You’re a very good listener."

A rush of courage running through his veins. Deciding on not taking the road of unsaid things, like his friends were earlier. Don’t dance around the subject, take the opportunity. Dare. "And you're just as pretty."

The world stopped. You looked at him in disbelief. It didn't last much. A knock on your door. Scratch that: someone banging on your door.

You pinched your eyebrows together. Spencer stood up, almost as if he was doing something wrong. You looked at him, apologizing, "I'm not expecting anyone."

You walked to the door and he stood behind you, telling you he was going to let you be. You didn't want to and you were already chastising yourself from not trying to talk to him and focusing on your problems instead. You opened the door and in the threshold stood Penelope Garcia, gift basket in hands. Before you could speak, both of your guests spoke at the same time.

A mortified "Garcia?" from Spencer.

A surprised "Spencer?" from Penelope.

Finally, a confused "Do you know each other?" from you.

"Yeah. We work together." Spencer replied. "What are you doing here, Penelope?"

"What are you doing here, boygenius?" Her tone now was teasing, a cheshire grin on her face. You were acting confused, but you were loving to see Spencer so out of place.

"I... I was..." He trailed off.

Poor thing. "He came to drop Olivia's gift. We're neighbors." You explained, trying to save him from further embarrassment.

She glanced between you two, eyes full of mirth behind her glasses. "I'm here to do the same." She said, smiling as she handed you the basket, which you took carefully and thanked her with a side hug. "There's her present, sweetcheeks. I'm so sorry I couldn't be there, you know how much I miss you and Olivia. But I'm sure our genius told you all about it." Her sentimental words truly held emotion, but she turned her attention to Spencer once again. The opportunity was too good to let go.

Spencer looked like a fish out of water. You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. "Garcia, can we talk?" He asked abruptly. "I'm sorry, I have to go." He murmured in a much more soft tone to you.

He could never resume whatever was going on in there because he felt like he had been caught with his pants down.

You were so surprised you didn't even process what was your answer, forgetting to ask if Penelope wanted to come in or anything. "I—Okay. I'll see you, then." With a small smile and slight disappointment in your voice. He all but dashed out of your apartment and took Garcia, who had a mischievous expression on her face, with him. You closed your door and looked at the mix of flowers. A sigh escaped you. Damn, Garcia.

Spencer was escorting Penelope back to her car, ready to bury himself alive because he knew she would run her mouth and knew precisely to whom she would tell about it. And, of course, the endless jokes he would hear during the next few days. "Sooooo..." She trailed off, suggestively.

"I—don't want to talk." She opened her mouth, but had no success in talking. "Not. A. Word."

She entered her car and started the engine as he waited for her to go. But before she started driving, she yelled, "I knew you had it in you, Reid."

From your balcony, work long forgotten, you watched Spencer hide his face in his hands in utter embarrassment.

You were doomed.

[allfearstofallto]

Quality Time - head canon drabbles

Yandere! Forced Marriage x Fem! Reader

Ft: Scaramouche and Childe

How your yanderes spend time with you

Scaramouche

“Wrong again,” he muttered beneath his breath, and you felt yourself tense at his anger.

“I apologize, my lord,” you responded quickly. It was like second nature for you. He never truly accepted your apologies, but it made your punishments less harsh.

He insisted that once a week he'd spend time with you. Although, the time was never doing what you liked. He wanted you to learn more skills that would make you seem sophisticated, things he said were skills he learned himself. Tea ceremonies, kimono dressing, and his personal favorite, calligraphy.

Scaramouche would sit you in his lap, with a low table in front of you. You thought it was some sort of perverted ploy to touch you more, but he genuinely seemed more interested in the writing. Or interested in you learning to do it.

“Don't apologize, just do better,” he lifted your wrist that had the brush in it and pulled the sleeve of your kimono back, there was a little black ink on the expensive fabric. His fingers were cold, his grip not tight, but threatening, “I've told you, you must use your other hand to hold the sleeve, or it'll drag through the ink.” his eyebrows were furrowed together in frustration as he looked over the garment you'd practically ruined.

“Be glad I love you so much, or I'd keep you in solitary confinement for your repeated mistakes,” 

“Thank you, my lord.” 

He motioned for you to do it again and you mimicked his motions with your own hand and drew out a character on the parchment. It was borderline ineligible, but it was better than anything you'd done before. He hummed in agreement at your work, wrapping one his arms tighter around your waist.

His other hand reached up to gently pat your head. He called it praise, but you considered it condescending. Despite the fact that you hated it, he did it regardless, your opinions didn't seem to matter to him.

“You did good,” the brush was taken from your hand and he repeated the action, only this time it was more graceful and elegant, “it should look more like this though.”

He kept his hold on you as you continued to write characters for him deep into the night.

Childe

“My my, do those clothes truly suit you,” he could barely keep his hands off of you as the two of you trudged through the snow together.

You rarely went outside when staying in Snezhnaya, you rarely wanted to. But when you did, you were bundled up in thick, heavy garments to combat the cold. More than six layers at that. You wondered what part of you he thought looked good? There wasn't much of you to see anymore, the clothes had eaten you whole.

Childe insisted on taking you hunting with him. You politely declined, but once again, he insisted, and that was just him being polite. What he was really saying was, “Put your boots on, you're coming out with me.”

You were handed your gun, nearly dropping it from the surprise that he was just handing it to you. Amongst all the talking about how to spy tracks and what to do when you had an animal in your sights, the fact that he'd given you a gun never came up. You'd never held one before and also, Childe was your captor. Was he crazy? Stupid? Bulletproof? All of those things sounded plausible.

He walked in front of you as you fell behind. He was more used to this type of thing, snow up to your knees, but you were struggling. Where you were from, it didn't even get cold.

The gun felt heavy in your hands. You wanted to hold it away from your body, but you also wanted to keep it close to you. Childe was just there, walking and talking without a care in the world. And you were behind him. His guard was down, his guard always seemed to be down around you. You could just do it, couldn't you.

You raised the rifle up and held your breath. One thing he actually said and you listened to, was that you needed to be stable when you were shooting. You needed to be firm. Your heart was pumping in your chest, but you didn't let your hands shake. You didn't want to mess this up.

“There are pellets in your gun,” he'd stopped in his tracks, not even trying to look at you while he spoke, “and those definitely do not work on me.”

[rekino2114]

Hello! This is my first time requesting! I hope you write it later on! :D

 

How about the Chainsaw Man Girls Celebrating Their S/O Birthday? 

The chainsaw man girls celebrating your birthday

A/n:so this request was actually sent only a few days ago but I decided to anticipate it because today is actually my birthday and that's on theme. Thanks a lot to everyone who wished me happy birthday by the way

(I know today was supposed to be a drdt daturday but my birthday comes first)

Makima

Be prepared to have the best birthday anyone could possibly ask for, makima will literally do anything you want and make sure there isn't a moment where you aren't happy,from the moment you wake up to when you fall asleep together

She will give you the best cake money can buy, with your favorite flavors and decorate it however you want it to be (spoon feeding it to you, obviously)

As for the gifts she just brought you everything you expressed interest in during the year, from talking to her about how much you liked it to a simple glance in the shopping mall, she brought it. And don't even worry about how much it cost, she has enough money whatever it is

Makima never thought she'd truthfully celebrate a human's birthday let alone do this much, but you're the person who she loves more than anything, seeing you happy makes her heart swell with love she wants nothing but to celebrate the birth of the person who made her a human

"Happy birthday my love, I hope you get to spend another wonderful year of your life by my side, I love you so much"

Power

(I want you all to know I was this close to making a joke about "that scene," but I decided against it to avoid spoilers.....and also because every time I look at that panel I get the urge to stab makima 37 times in the chest)

She.....might have forgotten about it and only remembered when denji and aki mentioned it to her. In any other case she wouldn't care about a stupid human's birthday but since it was you she genuinely felt guilty.

Preparing your party was a group effort with her friends, she asked aki to bake you a cake and denji to put the decorations on while she.......she didn't really do that much, just kinda looked at them while they worked, which made the two guys mad at her

She didn't know what to get you (she said her presence was enough of a gift), but after being pressured by her friends, she just drew you a picture of you together and wrote you a letter with all of the love she felt for you written down

The drawing.....wasn't the best and her calligraphy was quite bad but you really appreciated the effort, you could tell she really loved you and wanted to express that.

"Happy birthday human! I'm happy you have survived another year to be with the great power......Hm....i-i love you, h-here's your gift...i-i put a lot of effort in it"

Himeno

She threw a straight-up party for you, inviting every one of your friends, including all members of division 4. You all had fun and laughed together, but she made sure the attention was all on you, it's your special day after all.

During the day she acts like there's nothing special going on, just being her normal self but not ignoring you so you don't get mad her but then in the evening she tells you makima assigned you two to a special mission but then she brought you to a bar where your party is being held before scooping you up in her arms and telling you happy birthday

She brought a classic cake and a gift she knew you wanted for a while (she might have also told everyone there to bring you a gift too) she also definitely sang happy birthday to you while everyone else (including you) was embarrassed

She tried not to get too drunk this time as she wanted to remember this amazing moment, and she actually succeeded. She spends all night near you being even more affectionate than usual and complimenting you every 5 seconds

"Happy birthday, babe! You thought I forgot, didn't you? Don't worry, I could never. I hope you enjoy the party cause it's just the beginning~"

Kobeni higashiyama

She was very ready for this day, she put a reminder on her calendar and prepared herself for it, she wanted to celebrate you and the fact that you loved her

She tried baking the cake herself, and it actually came out pretty good. She didn't know she could actually bake but she found out she was okay at it, that kinda raised her confidence just by a small bit though

She actually made you a handmade gift. Maybe she learned how to sew to make a shirt, or maybe she knit you a scarf, whatever you prefer, she specifically made it for you. The reasons why she chose to do this were 1:she didn't have enough money to buy you what she thought was a good enough gift, and 2: she wanted to show you how much you truly meant to her, she learned a new skill just for you.

She's just smiling the entire day, when you're eating the cake, when you open her gift and when you hug her telling her how much you loved it (she almost passed out from how much she blushed there)

"H-happy birthday y/n, i-I actually made you this, I hope you like it......oh y-you do? Thanks so much, i-i just wanted to do this, it's your special day after all"

Quanxi (and her harem)

They actually decided to throw you a surprise party with only the six of you, like himeno they tried to act like it wasn't a special day, quanxi was definitely the most successful at that as she doesn't show that much emotion in the first place, her girlfriends however had some issues....you saw them giggling to themselves and getting all nervous when your birthday was brought up

Quanxi took you out on a date while the fiends decorated your place and prepared the cake. When you got back, they all hid and jumped out, yelling surprise and laughing.

They each brought you a gift that they knew you'd like. Some of them brought it, and others handmade it. It's really sweet because they'll take turns giving you the gifts and making speeches about how much they love you while the other girls hype her up

They also each take turns kissing you and hugging you all resulting in a giant puddle of affection that make you feel so so loved and warm

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!/HALLOWEEN!"

"I think I can speak for all of us when I say that the day you entered our lives was amazing, you made all of us feel even more loved than we already were, we cannot thank you enough, happy birthday y/n"

Asa mitaka

She was both excited and nervous for this day, excited because she got an opportunity to do something to show how much you truly changed her life and you meant to her but nervous because what would happen to your relationship if she did something you wouldn't like? Would you break up with her? These thoughts plague her mind often, but especially on occasions like this

In a surprising twist, it was actually yoru who helped her gain confidence, mentally slapping her (like actually slapping her in her mind) and telling her to stop whining because you'll definitely like what she did for you, it was pretty surprising for asa seeing the war devil actually being nice to her, but she thanked her and calmed down

She brought you a cake and something you told her you wanted but didn't have enough money to buy, she saved enough to buy it from doing part time jobs and other stuff only for you.

She also made a speech that she wrote down and studied the night before like it was a test. In that speech, she told you everything she ever wanted to tell you, how much she loves you, how just being near you makes her feel so much better, how you make all of the struggles in her life easier just by being there near her and how much she wants to spend the rest of her life with you.

"S-so did you like it? The party, the speech, everything,.....I just want to say....thank you, you make my life worth living, i-i truly love you"

Yoru

She doesn't fully understand the concept of birthdays. Why would a human want to celebrate the fact that they're one year closer to death? But this time she made an effort for you

She did threaten basically everyone who she needed something from, the bakery to get your cake and the store to get your gift, they should be thankful it was her partner's birthday and so she felt merciful and didn't kill anyone, she also forced asa to decorate her house but the girl doesn't mind that much since you're her friend

Other than the gift she stole brought for you, she also made you something herself, a shield shaped badge she made by turning a small thing into a shield with her powers, she told you to always wear it as it signified that she would always protect you

(I can't remember if she can actually make shield, I still consider them weapon so I feel like she could)

Even if she'd never admit it, seeing you happy over she did made her (asa's?) Heart flutter, she thought she only loved destruction and bloodshed before she met you but she found out she was wrong...she loved you too

"Hm? You like it? Oh thanks but it's nothing, I can literally make one whenever I want, oh... You're talking about the party, well you're welcome, I don't understand human customs but it's the least I could do for you, thanks I love you"

Fami

The moment she found out when your birthday was, she made a lot of reservations to every restaurant you like. You're getting a day full of eating, and you don't get a choice in it

You're having a literal feast for every meal of the day, whether it be at fancy restaurants or fast food or just something fami tried to make or ordered from take out places, all of it are all of your favorite foods that she shares with you, she had to stop herself multiple times from just devouring everything but seeing you enjoy the food was enough to make her happy

All of it culminated when she brought you home and gave you your cake. It was actually something she made, and it was pretty good. She wanted to make something special for you with her bare hands to show you her care. Even if she's not the best cook, the cake still tastes amazing to you cause you can taste all the love in it

This was probably the day you saw her smile the most. Just seeing you eating and looking at her, you looked so precious and amazing. She wants to see you like that more, the look of gratitude and love you give her feel more delicious than any food could ever be

" So what was the best food you ate today? Uh? My cake? It's really nothing special it was actually the first time I ever cooked something.....thank you. I'm glad you liked it, I love you Happy birthday"

[darkdemeter]

MY SUMMONING

⚤ College student!Wanda Maximoff x GN/Female/Male demon Werewolf!Reader 18+ SMUT, MDNI — (gn/f/m) reader with a dick — monster fucking — female oral receiving — long demon monster tongue can do many things — unprotected p in v sex — some profanity — *cough* laundry mutt!reader — I think that's it? ✎ 4.5k Reincarnated love can be a bitch when you're stuffed into an ancient pocket dimension for thousands of years because the peasants reviled and scorned you. How you've yearned to return to her, promising that one day you shall join her side again as her faithful, shadowed acolyte. Now awoken to reunite with your master on the night where her magic is most potent to release you from your prison, you're summoned by her... but not her. No matter. A lover is a lover, and your love is eternally devoted to her. Now to consummate it at long last.

↳ MASTERLIST | ↳ TAGLISTS ────────────────────────

No. There was no way this is happening. No way! This was all meant to be some stupid little joke… 

Alright, maybe dabbling in the assortments of witchcraft and old leather-bound tomes written in an ancient language wasn’t the best of pranks to pull, but it was Halloween and Wanda wanted to have her own fun tonight. 

She doesn’t have to read the room hard to know she was practically fifth wheeling through her Halloween night. Steve and Peggy, the all-dream couple on campus, while Bucky and Nat were in the beginning prime of their relationship. Yes, both were pretty popular and many people thought their couplings adorable — if not envious of the partner — but Wanda couldn’t help but feel like an outcast all night long. She’s been following them around, attending a party or two, getting up to crazy shenanigans that ought to land them all a night behind bars until bail.

No. Wanda Maximoff, one of the brightest students in her major’s class, likes to dabble in… odd things. Peggy and Nat both knew of this certain attraction of hers, but it had been a rather closely guarded secret until now.

Breaking into the old burnt down chapel off the corner of Main Street, surrounded by the old, white picket fence, hadn’t seemed like a half-bad idea. 

All fun and games until Wanda approached the podium where a dusty casing of leather sat, singed but untouched by the long forgotten fire. The yellowed, toughened skin of parchment paper crackled and rumpled with each turn over, her green eyes almost glowing with renewed fascination. She stopped at the book’s center when something caught her attention. Her eyes slip to widen a little at the sketching of a large, looming form of a wolf creature whose entire head bears only its skull, standing on its hind legs behind the regal figure of a loosely-clad robed woman. The image itself was intimately intoxicating to look upon. Something about it was pulling her to silently read over the daggered calligraphy. The woman’s illustrated body conveys what her drawn features lack; a postured body of contentment. Security. Lustful wanting. 

And the tall creature before her stood proudly. Protectively. Equally wanting and willing. 

The soft pad of her finger runs over the drawing, stroking the blackened detailing of the fur and skull face. Blooming deep in her abandoned, she feels that awakened need that begins to throb between her thighs and forces them to push together quickly, embarrassed with a warm glow in her cheeks. 

While Peggy had urged that she leave the book and its ominous being there alone, she had been outranked by the other three who egged her on.

How could she say no? What harm could come from an obvious prop of the occult? As if a place so holy could harbour anything dangerous. With a cheeky grin, eyes slowly moving back and forth between her friends and the page she read from, she began to read aloud the incantation. 

Before the very collective eyes of four witnesses, the surrounding candles sizzled with rekindled life, a singular flame dancing on each blackened wick before it would throb dimly in their warm arousement. A copied sensation Wanda felt herself able to relate to. 

“Wanda…” Peggy whimpers, unsure. Steve only pulled her closer to him but made no intent in stopping Wanda as she continued to recite the chant. 

The old chapel is awakened with a deadly, hollow breath, howling ominously in a deep and thunderous wind that travels through the marrow of bones and tenses the muscles. The air eagerly lapped and ravished at them, as if tasting them on its non-existent tongue. 

The rattle of the ancient, relic urns chattered on their shelves beneath a baritone of a rumble that became suspiciously familiar to a growl, that of a predatory beast. Wanda’s hair whipped around to almost blinding her vision but she feels like she’s incapable to stop, that whatever force pulled her in the first place has full control over her, that even if she wanted to — and she doesn’t — she couldn’t stop. 

Not until her words and voice enunciate the final lyric of whatever summoning spell she reads. 

“Come hither, loyal acolyte, silhouette and blackened, come back to your vengeful pedestal upon the earth — I beckon you from your voided prison, answer my summoning!”

Behind the knowledge of Wanda’s awareness, the visage of an animal skull formed in a smoky apparition finally pushed her friends to flee.

“Fuck this!” Bucky shouts, pulling Natasha with him until his grip is white knuckled around her wrist. Steve mimics the action and sentiment with Peggy. Each of their screams joined the territorial growls and roars as they ran to the cellar’s exit. 

“Wait—!” Wanda’s hand stretches out, gripping for her friends pleadingly only for the cellar door to boom loudly as the doors slam to a close. 

The air feels cold around her yet so thickly laced, it shrouded her in darkness despite the many candles lit around her. Behind her, tendrils of grappling mist form into spiraling columns that wrap and weave together into a crafting tower, silent with a voice she hears as a mere whisper. Your fur manifests in this realm with a bristled motion and your ears immediately twitch, perking up at each minute breath she utters in her shell-shocked state. 

Your master.

Oh, how long it has been since you last graced her beauty, her powerful aura and taken her into your enveloping hold. For too long she has been away from you. A tiny, coiled rasp akin to a curious, predatory purr emits from the chasm of your large chest. 

Wanda’s voice feels raw, stretched thinly by the grimoire’s spell and her hand delicately moves to pet and stroke it but a figment of lithe, cold clawed fingers beat her to it. 

A gasp hiccups in her throat as her head is tilted back slowly. Her eyes meet glowing balls of flame within the hollow frame of shallow eye sockets. A chiseled and grizzly face of a skull decorated with small cracks and a gaping maw revealing the serrated blades of teeth, moistened with an oily slick from a long, black limb of a tongue. 

No way…

You make the sound of that grinding, off-note purr again, louder to reach her ears. “Milenec…”

Odd as it was to feel an inkling of acknowledgement to the term. It sounds so… endearing. Like she’s heard it before but not in this lifetime. The aspect of a time before her existence here and now is brought into question immediately. 

“Y-you can talk…” she chokes out through a whispered breath, “What are you?”

“Milenec…  it  is  me.” You let her slip from your grasp where she stumbles back, the rise of her heels clobbering against the cellar flooring like loud cracks of thunder. Your body moves unlike any natural thing on this earth. It contorts, twisting and bending in places that shouldn’t. 

You body arcs and crosses over the podium with slinking ease, the wispy nature of your fur bellows in airy streams akin to the warp of fire and your long tail follows you as a trail of smoke; your body pushed and pulled like a magnetic charge between this realm and the next, there are forces at work that attempt to banish you and hold you grounded here. 

“Don’t  you  remember  me?” 

“I don’t understand,” Wanda mutters. With a tilt of your large head that furls your ears with a flop, you speak with a guttural enunciation. “You  freed  me,  Master. For  so  long  I’ve  waited,  trapped  in  the  void. But  you  kept  your  word. You  summoned  me.”

“I-I… that was… that was just a joke, I d-didn’t mean to—”

“But  you  did.” Low and unwavering is your tone, musing to and fro within the fabrication of vocalisation. 

You stalk closer until the bony bridge of your skull bows down to meet her at eye level. “And  now  we  can  finally  be  together…”

“Properly…  consummate  our  love.” 

What?

Wanda stumbles back, nearly caving in on her heel in her blind stun but the shadowy appendage of your tail wraps her and draws her in closer so that her breasts meet the glistening grotesque of your tongue. 

Long and expressive, it explores the exposure of her cleavage, tasting the warm dew of her skin and a thrumming growl rattles in your ribcage like bones being shaken in a hollow encasement. 

With a quivering breath, Wanda sighs, caught in the midst of this awakened desire and her need to get away. “I’m not—Ah… who you think I am…”

Pulling away and bumping the skinless mouth of your face against her cheek, you huff. The tattered, darkened rings hidden deep within the sockets of the skull move like muscled skin. A cursed deformity? 

An indication that you were once something more? 

The visceral shade of glowing amber shines ominously bright like a flame tempered angrily.

“A  reincarn…” The words speak as an echoing drawl that overlaps together. “But  my  Milenec  all  the  same…  my  mate.”

“M-mate?” Wanda stutters and you nod with a low purr. 

Had her dabbling in magic really cost her this time? For all her friend’s pleading to reconsider her less than tame rituals and practices, she truly opened the genie bottle on this one. And that genie happened to be a mystical entity hellbent on her being someone someone it knows. A reincarnate. 

Wanda cannot exactly place it within herself, but there is a certain cadence of allure in your words. Your profession that you and her are meant to be together. She’s felt so lonely as of late after her messy breakup with her ex. Feeling unwanted and pathetically isolated, believing that nobody else wanted her because of her taboo hobbies. 

But to think that this… creature wants her. She feels like it’s a sort of lust yearning to break free of herself. That this is right. That you’re meant to be. 

Your hands move to cradle her jaw, her visage cutely small compared to your hands. Her breath comes in light pants. “May  I…  kiss  you,  Milenec?” 

When Wanda had arrived back at her dorm room, she mostly expected it to be barren of her roommate after what occurred tonight. No doubt staying with Bucky. Her plump lips still reside with this vibrating tension after the kiss you shared. It was exotically powerful, submissively contained despite the ravenous hunger she could all but feel course through your materialised body. 

The grimoire sat on her dresser, a foreboding piece of occult just laid out in the open. You advised her to take it with her.

“It  was  yours.  Take  it.”

From the vessel of her sleeping form, you emerge as the figment moving through the shadows, a tainted mass like water in oil. The native, lesser darkness submits beneath your imposing will, threatened by you. As a wayward spirit now marking your haunting claim to this new territory, you drift around your surroundings under an inquisitive note to investigate. 

Your master is… different. She must be that of a reincarn. The loss of her memories — the loss of you — and in the matter that the world has changed so much since you were last summoned to this realm. Only the telltale sign of your presence leaves your shadow out in the open view, under the protruding light of the moon painted over the wall. 

Before you, your hand muses between the phases of existence, taking care to be gentle when your claw pokes and plucks at a button eye of a stuffed toy of a bear. You recall young village girls who made their comforting friends from old straw, ragged scraps of hemp and linen thread. Witches of the craft also used similar ingredients to create dolls, giving them onto you to then find and slaughter them. Ah, those were the days you were admired as a god. A deity of the dark and the shadows, where your name was uttered on the faint whisper of fear and gasped aloud in seek of repentance. 

Then your beloved summoned you, bound you in the sustained chains of her servanthood, and despite your nature to feel angered because of your entrapment; you admired the raw power she held. Together, you both would be unstoppable. In pledge of your divine protection and loyalty, she would bed you and settle your every carnal desire. She announced her soul yours to take in exchange that you would in turn serve as her faithful acolyte, the fonted source behind her increasing magic. 

A woman after your own heart. No other witch of her time had made such an offering so appealing. Usually they slew a few mortals as a sacrifice or the odd bassinet that cradled a babe surrounded by small, dead birds; all to ask your favour and to surrender a portion of your power to make them powerful.

You’re not sure why these women thought you’d have such need for innocent, infant souls. But you made their treachery pay for their disgusting insinuation. Nor did you ever condone the contracts over the young. A foul entity of the void but one with a consciousness. That was what your true followers came to understand. 

Brought back to the present you stand before the mirror of Wanda’s vanity. Small framed adornments hang by an invisible force that you decree is faulty magic, based on how easily it wanes upon touching it with the graze of a single clawed finger. Your mistress smiles in each one, some with the company of who you presume to be her followers, and others she is alone; in wait for your shadow to loom hazily in the next frame. 

This modern age still confounds you but you will learn it. And with it, you will have all knees bend before your master. You will finally sate one another as you both promised for an eternity. Beside the vanity sits a woven basket. You come completely from the cloak of your phantomhood when the smell hits you. A strong odor exudes from it and you curiously click the lid open. The scent wafts higher, more intense and your core awakens with arousement. You can smell the intensity of her on the used clothes. The nose hole of your skulled face inhales  deeply, sharply with a wheezing crackle. Your tongue laps at the soaking patch of her recent loins, groaning at the way hunger consumes you. 

Your ears rattle with a perked flicker at the piercing chord of Wanda’s softened whine. Your head swerves to peer over your shoulder, a penetrative gaze of two smoldering fires set upon her. How beautiful she looks, the blanket pooled to her stomach, revealing the sculpt of her form, a less than orderly top clinging to her loosely and barely concealing the spill of her breasts. 

As a misted cluster of wavering smoke, you saunter towards her until you stand over her at the side of the bed. Your head cranes on a tilted axis as you examine her closely. Her brows scrunched together, troubled and her body struggles and writhes pathetically, more so as she whines and moans breathlessly under the stir of her slumber. A low rumble vibrates in the chasm of your chest that it echoes deeply. 

Her hips jerk and she lets out another pitiful sound. She’s needy…

She  yearns  for  us…

She’s  ready…

It’s  now  our  time…

With one hand you cup her at the apex between her thighs and she shivers, hips jumping forward into your palming embrace. You growl with a low-edged timbre, desire taking hold of you. You feel the cool dampness soak her panties much like the ones in the basket and her smell… it takes every single sin of yours to remember not to ravish her outright lest you tear her open. 

She continues to move against the wide spread of your hand, rubbing herself on you. Her muscles go rigged with each needy roll of her hips and her throat constricts around her mumbled phrases and wanting sounds. 

She  needs  us…

You intrude two long fingers beneath the thin fabric of her panties, your thumb having sought out her clit. You run along her folds with tantilising motion, teasing. Your master gives a low, sulky moan in turn. Her legs spread further apart to welcome you, accommodate your invading advancements and her breath quickens that her breasts become strained against her top. How you’ll tear it off her in due time. Nothing will keep you apart an longer, nothing else shall hinder you from bearing witness to her naked body pinned beneath you or when she takes her place above you; to spear herself on the throne that is your cock. She will come to remember her manners, her power and then… nothing will remain in your path. You two shall be unstoppable. 

You push the two fingering appendages past her moist folds and she gasps curtly, her spine arching beautifully from the mattress. Finally, she’s embracing that which is long overdue. Your thumb rolls her cli in slowly drawn circles, pressing with a touch of firmness to let her know your toying is an act to please. 

Her name parts through her agape lips and her dark lashes beat with a sleepy flutter, unaware completely to what transpires. 

“Milenec…” you purr. The darkened dart of your tongue slides over the maw of your bony teeth, wishful to savour her taste. You lower yourself at her side, your other hand moves up, caressing the temple of her body until it reaches the nape of her neck. Your jaw cracks and pops, a wiry whisper of breath lashes through the hollow of your throat and your tongue extends further from your mouth. Still fingering her velvety insides until she’s coating you with her arousal, her clit thrumming with a lively pulse, your tongue becomes integrated into the pleasurable mix. 

You grunt and moan with a thousand resounding echoes bouncing back and forth between the walls. You taste the sweetened dew of her skin, its slight tang of salty residue. It slides over the slim plane of her stomach, caressing the creased threshold of her legs right near her navel and then upwards. The damned fabric offends you in your aroused exploration. Your tongue slips beneath its material hem and travels between her breasts, rippling for a moment before tearing the top down its middle. Her nipples become stiff, erected by the sudden chill that riddles her skin with goosebumps. 

Her chorus of moans spurs you on. The inky tendril of your tongue glides over each breast, playful with both nipples until you leave a shiny gloss behind. It has her mewing in a way that makes your cock throb and stand between your legs. The thicker portion of your tongue slides and fondles over the curve of her breasts, its extension moving back down her body following the natural weight of her belly until your tongue prods at her clit. It’s cold to her, she lets out a shivered sigh and a softened mewl of your name. 

Along with your fingers, your tongue divides the lips of her slickened pussy apart, becoming a third instrument that strokes her from within. Her walls are hot around you and it clouds your mind with a clouded lust, her snug walls that are flushed with a velvety feel that’s moistened; a precious cove where she beckons your entreating defilement. You groan with a slurping lap in indulgence to her taste finally on your tongue. Sweetened like a honeyed wine, the taste of a feverish delight. Greedily, you sink your tongue further inside of her. 

She arches her back further and your hand supports her at the backend of her skull as she cries out your name, her breath panting and concealing that of a blissful scream. Her eyes open to the dimly lit world around her, the lamplight having flickered in warning that its lighting will expire soon the moment you laid your hands on her. Terrorised by a series of gasps and hiccuping moans, her hands fist and clench at the chilly spires of your misty fur, just thick enough to grab onto but the fainter portions slip through her hold. 

“Y–Y/n… ah—ahh! My acolyte…”

You give a mused whine at the teetering edge of her voice, a bended inflection as she now balances horribly on the verge of her own orgasm; a heavenly relief. “Right there… please, r–right there!”

Your thumb becomes aggressive on her clit and you pull her to sit up slightly. The widened base of your head forces her legs to remain open no matter how much she clenches them against you, she pulls at the mane of fur around your neck as she begs you. 

With a few more strokes of your fingers and tongue, she cums. Her body trembles violently as she’s taken by the white, hot flush that blinds her for a moment and her juices reward you; allowing you to devour it with gulping eagerness. As a last effort, your fingers work to stretch her walls out and she winces before you withdraw both appendages. 

Her chest extends with each large breath and her eyes drown with a deepened pool of lust, the sparkle of scarlet dancing within them. Her power grows with digesting effort through each powerful exchange of your sexual endeavors. Your tongue retracts slightly back down into the unknown and pitless depths of your gullet and you growl deeply. 

Wanda’s hands become fixed at your shoulders and pull at you, inviting you. With a serpentine movement, your tongue moves slowly over the mound of her clit, eliciting a sharpened gasp from Wanda. Further, it moves up her body again, wrapping as a band around her breasts and squeezing her; a mouse caught in your trap. The thinner flare of your tongue is a wonderful muscle all its own when it balances merely of its own accord before her lips, like a snake risen up for the strike. 

Just from the burning amber of your eyes she understands you want her to taste herself. Her plump lips open weakly and you push the inky, slick covered tip into her mouth. Her tongue moves forward and flicks at the slitted divide of your forked muscle; and your body ripples with an unworldly, loud hum. She will come to understand such an area is akin to the sensitive tip to your weeping cockhead.

Your cock twitches and you move until your widened gate sits between her legs. Her soft, delicate thighs are forced to rest against the strong, muscled limbs of your own, just barely meeting at level with your hips and where her awaiting cunt lines up with your cock. 

You move your tongue as a secondary thrusting muscle. Wnda moans a muffled song around it, her own tongue stroking the underbelly of the blackened length and your hips pitch forward with an eager roll. Your tip notches between the capture of her swollen pissy lips and you push forward.

Her body immediately tenses up and your hands hold tight to her wrists, ensuring her grip that claws at your remains there. You’ve never been opposed to pain mixing with pleasure. 

The pronunciation of your name vibrates through your tongue and you growl. Her walls constrict around you with that hot flushness, fluttering as she eases her body to relax. Your size is one she hasn’t experienced before, not even her ex could compare. You pick up your thrust promptly, shoving your cock in and out, in and out. When you withdraw your tongue, the coiled muscle tightening around her ribcage with each thrust you force to penetrate her deeper, she lets out a sighing moan. Her lashes beat fast and her eyes roll back, lulled by the backward crane of her head that falls back against the pillow. 

“Y-yeah, there, right there…”

“Mmm—mhph, so deep!”

How you’ve waited so long to hear her pleasure all to yourself. It’s intoxicating to be praised by your master and your pace quickens. Your hips snap faster and harder with a harshened force that rocks the bed back and forth with a grinding squeak, the headboard splintering a straight line into the wall from the pounding brunt. 

“Shit, shit— I’m gonna—ah!”

You can hear her deep within the recess of her soul. Her reincarn a physical vessel that harbours your first and only love. Your beloved mate. She sings out to you; summoning you. 

You see her within the blind of a memory, seeing the woman beneath you as you do your master. 

You see two different branches of her soul. 

And the thought that your master in this life has faced so much judgment, that her previous lover left her — not that he would have been around much longer if he’d been in the picture still. 

A new quarry to hunt once your consummation was complete. A prize to bring back to your mate. Her first sacrificial offering you’d present to appease her.

Her legs lock around your sturdy hips to drag you further inside of her, kissing the delicate plush of her cervix that has her keening, her lips parted with deep and loud moans that would disturb the neighbouring dorms for sure. 

“Milenec…,” you rattle with a purring growl, “My  Milenec…  release,  let  go.”

For a second time, Wanda bends to the bliss of her euphoria. Cumming around your cock, her walls hug you tightly and her body trembles again with a feverish tingle. It feels like her insides are boiling but her skin is plagued by the wave of coldness. 

Your ears and back with a sharp howl as your knot swells before erupting with the spurting ropes of your release, listening to the rhythmic and moistened glide of where your bodies lock together now. It’s a sound you want to hear for eternity. 

Your tongue loosens around her bust and slinks back down into your gullet, concealing its impressive length for another time. 

“I feel…” Her words come out as a faded exhale. She’s unable to find the words as she stares up at you, a hand caressing the bony curve of your jaw that pops back into place after hanging so low. 

“Whole.”

No longer will your darling master feel the shaded cloak of neglect and disregard. She will feel what it means to truly be loved. Desired. Worshipped. As your mate she falls under your protection and you will guard her fiercely. You will protect the witch who summoned you all those years ago and you shall forever pledge your service to the witch before you now.

She is one and the same. A lover is a lover even through ages past. Nothing will change the bargain you forged long ago. Not the eyes that spear her to the pyre that burned her in ages old, nor the imprisonment of the void, or even the grades she appears desperate to achieve — though you believe she should turn her studies to that of the grimoire: her true potential.

THANKS FOR READING!

✎ no note from the author

[copinghex]

Sincerely yours, me | T.S

Summary: Tommy receives anonymous gifts and letters. All the signs point to a single conclusion - he has a secret admirer.

The first gift was misinterpreted, as harmless as it could be, a man like Tommy wouldn't simply eat anything sent to him.

Sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea, Polly waited for Tommy to get home. On the table, a delicate box from a nearby bakery and a letter caught everyone's attention, not only for the gesture but also the date.

If anyone would search for Thomas Shelby in city registers, all they'd find would be his army register, indicating his date of birth was 19th September, months earlier than the true date, a cold Wednesday morning of November. Whoever sent the gift was close enough to the family to not be fooled by the erroneous papers.

That day, Tommy entered the kitchen in quick steps, unconsciously or not, he always worked more on his birthday, not being particularly fond of celebrating.

“Is anything special about the age of thirty?” Polly asked.

“...no,” noticing the suspicious gifts on the table, Tommy reached for the letter, the envelope contained no information other than his own name, “who bought this?”

“No one, it was left on the door this morning,” she turned the box to show him the bakery’s name, “the place isn't cheap, they wouldn't leave it at the door without someone to collect it,”

“So someone ordered and left it at the door,” Tommy concluded.

“What does the letter say?”

The first thing Tommy noticed was the calligraphy, it wasn't neat nor horrendous. He could see the author tried their best to look nice.

Dear Tommy,

Originally, I was excited to write you this letter. Now that I have your cake and shall deliver it tomorrow, it makes me question if this was a good idea.

I believe birthdays are meant to be celebrated with those we have dearly. You seem to think otherwise, nevertheless, I hope you (and your family) enjoy the flavor I picked.

I wish I had bought you a gift as well, I had an eye on a pocket watch from a pawnshop in London, it'd seat nicely with a brown three piece you have, unfortunately my budget is not endless.

I hope you enjoy your birthday and wish you all the happiness, prosperity and good fortune.

Sincerely yours, me.

P.S I've taken notice I mentioned the cake spent a day in my house, if the thought ever crosses your head, do not worry, it cannot have spoiled, I kept it on the ice box all the time ♡

“So?” Polly questioned.

“Take a look at the calligraphy,” he handed her the letter, “does it look familiar?”

“Not at all, I can check in the books, but it's too neat to belong to any of our men, also there's a heart in the end,”

“Alright,” he sighed, “I want you to go to the bakery and ask who ordered it, then ask all the neighbors about the person who left it at the door, anything is useful,”

“Oh, for Christ's sake! I've things to do but to investigate a birthday cake!”

“Polly,” Tommy opened the box, “whoever sent this is watching from close, what do they plan to do with all this information? It can't be good,”

“Alright,” she sighed, “I'll ask, but I bet is nothing more than some of the neighbors’ daughters wearing her heart out for you,”

“Fucking finally,” John suddenly entered the kitchen, “Polly said we'd only eat when you arrived,”

“No one is going to eat,” he looked at the cake, the white topping could be easily deduced as vanilla while the bottom was chocolate.

“What?! What not?”

“We don't know who fucking sent this, it can be poisoned,”

“Or someone wants to send a message,” Polly added.

“Or it's just fucking cake,” John argued, “ugh, forget it,”

As John left, Tommy threw the box in the trash, the light sweet scent rose up to his nose and looking superficially, it seemed like nothing but an innocently sent birthday gift. He wouldn't risk it though, if he was wrong about it, it'd be shameful to die over a piece of cake.

Weeks went by without further information, all the bakery was able to tell was that the person who made the order was a woman, nothing they hadn't already deduced. The dust settled, with no signs of danger or special dates coming by, nothing disturbed Tommy's routine.

The second gift was delivered by Scudboat, at the end of a shift in the betting shop he sneaked his head into Tommy's tiny office with a bulky envelope.

“Tom? I'm going home,” he said.

“See you tomorrow,” Tommy didn't lift his eyes from the papers on the desk.

“Someone left this on my desk today, it's for you,”

His shoulders dropped in a tired move, one more problem was everything he didn't need, “Who did? Did you see?”

“No, we had a full house today, I'm sorry, man,” Scudboat left.

First, a wooden horse fell from the paper. The delicate miniature wasn't bigger than a pocket watch, but the details revealed it was made by talented hands.

Dear Tommy,

Although throwing the whole cake away did offend me, I admit I'm the one at fault for this huge miscalculation, I have no enemies myself and yet, I'd be hesitant to eat something anonymously sent to my door.

Therefore, please accept this horse as a gift instead. It sat dusting up on my shelf for way too long, if you ask me, it resembles Monaghan boy.

Sincerely yours, me.

Tommy placed the miniature in the corner of his desk, it immediately set amongst his other belongings as if it was made to be there.

Slightly crumbling the paper, he fought the urge of ripping it apart, no harm was done and he couldn't find any subtle threats between the lines, but the thought of being observed made him tremble.

The possibility of someone being truly in love with him crossed his mind and was quickly shaken off. Tommy knew he wasn't lovable, at least not anymore, at most it must be infatuation from a stupid woman.

Putting the letter in a drawer, he carried on with his paperwork.

The third gift came three weeks later, when Tommy thought she had given up on him. A worn out bracelet he recognized from an Appleby fair, years ago he bought one for Greta Jurossi and managed to sneak up some more while the seller turned around to get his change. He remembered distributing them amongst her friends.

Those faces were all blurred in Tommy's memory now, shadows from a past that seemed so distant it felt like another life.

The envelope wasn't neat like the previous ones either, delivered by Ada herself, all she offered as explanation was an entertained smile and a “read the letter, Tom”

Relief washed over him learning that Ada was the one collecting information. The worry’s weight left his shoulders and then, the whole scenario felt as laughable as a joke.

Tommy,

It has come to my attention that my letters do you more harm than good. What a shame, I had planned to toy with you a while longer, but seeming it doesn't have the expected effect, I believe there's no option other than revealing myself.

I assure you I never intended harm and Ada was of great help in keeping an eye on you. Please, do not be upset at her, she was manipulated by having me watching Karl whenever needed.

Thomas, you are very dear to me, I've made it clear through the last few months, because of it, I'll be at the Garrison this Friday from 17:00 to 18:00, at the last table in the corner, we've never been complete strangers so you'll recognize me.

All I ask you is to not show up with selfish intentions, to mock me or satisfy your curiosity. I want to be someone close to you, someone you trust and perhaps like. If this possibility exists, come meet me, if your heart is permanently closed, I understand, but please do not come.

Sincerely yours, //////////

Tommy slowly put the letter down, the red scribbles where her name should be evoked sympathy within him. He imagined a simple girl, a silhouette between Greta's friends, switching pen colors and ruining the end of a tidy letter.

Lighting up a cigarette, he rubbed his tense brow, decisions that involved others were always harder and he doubted he'd get used to it someday.

He also couldn't deny curiosity was eating him alive, he needed to know who was sweet enough to look away from the atrocities he committed after France and still love the man he became.

Love, the word sounded so foreign to him he made a decision. He'd go to the encounter, even if he wasn't sure he wanted a relationship, having someone who loved him would be useful.

The week went by fast, around a quarter to five Tommy ordered everyone out of the Garrison, two cups and a whiskey bottle waited with him. He wouldn't define what he felt as excitement, perhaps satisfaction in finally closing that case.

Leaning on the counter, he stared at the doors, a hesitant shadow showed up on the glass panel, the knob moved down and a few seconds passed until she got in.

Her eyes widened seeing the pub empty, a shiver ran down her spine as her eyes met his squinted ones. She gulped, frozen at the entry. Tommy sized her up and his gaze softened, an afternoon tea at the Jurossi’s house years ago, he'd barely noticed her, apparently she had noticed him.

“You came,” she greeted.

“I was curious,”

“Tommy, I asked you to not-”

“Yeah,” he interrupted, “it was brave of you to keep me in the dark for so long,”

“It was barely two months,”

“Could've been much more if so you decided,”

“Why would I? You didn't see to enjoy my… admiration at all,”

Pouring them drinks, Tommy called her to the counter. She shyly smiled as he handed her a glass and made a tiny toast.

“It was clever,” he complimented, “I recruit clever people,”

“So this is business focused?” she looked down, disappointed.

“Amongst other things,” with his glass, he lifted her chin, “I think we can achieve great things together,”

[smusherina]

bridges burnt - chapter 5 [epilogue series] (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: When an invitation to Gretchen Wieners' wedding ended up in your mailbox, you'd been sure it was a mistake. Only, it read your name in neat, swoopy calligraphy. It was addressed to you. And Regina George, whom you hadn't spoken to in years.

additional clarification: This is set in the universe of yard work, a series of mine that can be found on my page! Reading this one might be a bit challenging without the context of the series :)

warning(s): weed mischief

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4

You were sitting at your table, chatting amicably with everyone, when Gretchen finally graced you with her presence. She was glowing, that much you could admit.

"Hey, guys!" She gave an energetic greeting. You smiled and waved.

"Oh em gee, Gretch!" Regina said as she stood up. She was considerably taller than the bride, with killer heels that gave some significant inches. They did air kisses on each cheek and cooed and squealed for a little.

"It's been so long! You're so rarely in town I wasn't sure you'd come!" Gretchen enthused. Her husband stood on the sidelines, looking quite put out but trying to hide it.

"Oh, you know I always make time for you," A blatant lie but you weren't going to say anything about it. "I'm so happy you've found love!"

"Me too," Gretchen gushed, snaring her boo-thang by the arm. He'd zoned out so startled a little but recovered quick with a dashing smile.

"Hi, I'm Michael." Of course, his name was Michael. What was next? Chad? Tucker?

"Regina. Regina George." Regina said, then turned to you. "And this is my partner."

You stood up and shook his hand, then said your name. "Nice to meet you. Congrats."

Michael nodded, smiling uncomfortably. He'd seemed sociable and open with the other guests so you didn't get why he was being all shy now.

"Thanks!" Gretchen chirped. Her eyes flitted between you and Regina. "Sorry if this is abrupt, but you two are still together?"

"We did go on a break right before college." Regina chose her words deliberately. "But after that, we just couldn't resist. True love just pulls you in, doesn't it?" She put her arm around your waist and pulled you to her. You stumbled a little, falling into her. Your arms came around her neck.

Gretchen looked quite unsettled by the close embrace. "It totally does." She said, tone falling flat.

"Mmh. Well, what plans have you got? Honeymoon?"

"Michael's been planning it for us," Gretchen said. That surprised you considering she was such a control freak. Perhaps you were wrong.

"There's no keeping secrets from her," Michael laughed. "Surprising her is too damn hard." His Southern twang was prominent. Something was charming about him, you supposed.

"I just want it to be right, Mike!" Gretchen teased, lightly hitting him on the shoulder. "I've been better haven't I? I let Deborah do the flower arrangements."

"Yes, dear," Michael said, looking down at Gretchen with real, genuine love in his eyes.

Seeing them interact, so sweet on one another, made you sad. First of all, because you were so similar. You were on the same level, people just the same as them. Looking at them like this, in just the context of the moment currently playing out, you didn't want to ruin their wedding.

But you had history. Gretchen had outed you to the school in junior year of high school. It'd had devastating effects on your life as a whole. Your father went from cold neglect to open disdain, you lost the jobs you were doing around the neighbourhood, your peers ostracised you. Those close to you, Regina mostly, got targeted rumours spread around and more negative attention than ever.

Gretchen was not the sole reason for your and Regina's break up but definitely one of them. You had settled to forgive and forget when you came back to town, to stay away and not say anything in a silent, mutual agreement. You buried the hatchet and thought she had, too.

You should've known better. Watching her make googly eyes at her husband as if the things she did had no bearing, no weight, infuriated you. She had ruined your life. Things had progressed since you were in high school and outing didn't have quite the same fallout, but what she did to Kylie was still unforgivable. There hadn't been that much progress. Gay marriage was still illegal in some states.

"Man, Gretchen, seeing you like this brings me back." You said, eyeing her. "Those sure were the days," You sighed and played wistful.

The bride and groom shared glances. Regina picked up what you were putting down and got involved.

"You'll be seeing just how much of a wildcat she is, Michael," Regina said, laying it on thick. "You have my number, Gretch, just give me a call if you wanna relive old times on your wedding night." She finished off with a saucy wink. You almost couldn't hold in your laughter.

"Toodles," Regina wiggled her fingers and took you by the arm, leading you away.

Once you were a safe distance away, you asked: "Wonder if they'll talk about that in private?"

"About Gretchen being involved, allegedly, in a lesbian threesome sandwich? I'd bet on it." Regina grinned.

You steered towards the exit to the parking lot where your car was. You had the kazoos and water pistols in the trunk. Maybe you spent a good fifteen minutes pinning Regina to the side of your flashy vintage—Betty the Catalina, you introduced—sucking the soul out of her through her mouth. Making out. Whatever, that was neither here nor there.

While Regina set out to find a gullible mother to deceive into giving out kazoos and water pistols, you called a guy. Rick was his name and he owed you a favour. He happened to be the owner of several karaoke bars. He'd hook you up.

"Yeah, anything will do, just needs to connect to the loudspeakers—uhh, pretty new I'd say, nothing too fancy but they didn't skimp out, that's for sure—yeah, yeah, I'll give you the address. Can he get here in an hour? Maybe less? I can pay his speeding tickets, no worries."

After making sure a karaoke machine would be delivered to the reception, you strutted back towards the building. On the way, you spotted three youths huddled in a non-descript spot by some shed. They were only visible from the parking lot. You knew what they were up to.

"Hey, kids," You sidled up to them, prompting the tallest of them to fumble with the joint he was trying to light. He had acne all over and residues of black eyeliner on his eyes. He had a strip of hair dyed stripey like a racoon tail. It was pretty cool, to be honest.

"H- hey," He stuttered, voice cracking as he swiped some hair from his eyes. Oh, to be young.

"You got weed?" You decided to be blunt. (Ha, blunt.) The two others were shaking like leaves in their tuxedos.

"No. I don't, like, even know what that is," The ring-leader crossed his arms defensively and leaned casually against the wall of the shed. Or, well, he was going for casual but looked extremely spooked.

"Well, that's a damn shame 'cause I was just looking to buy some." You said and reached into your breast pocket to pull out your wallet. You opened it and pulled out a couple of fifties. "I got all this cash to burn. But, hey, if you don't got any..."

"You'd pay that much for weed?" The boy eyed the bills hungrily.

"I'll be straight with you, kid-"

"I'm not a kid. I'm seventeen." He grumped. "Flint. Or Finnigan, I guess."

"Alright, Flint, I'm gonna put this bluntly. Your family sorta sucks." You looked at the other two. They were probably all cousins. Wouldn't tattle if Flint, the Cool One, told them not to. They didn't seem that much younger. As a responsible adult, you should've probably said something along the lines of 'don't smoke it's bad for you' but you were just glad they weren't shooting up or anything.

"Understatement of the century," He scoffed.

"Which side are you from, by the way?"

"The groom's." They all said in unison. That explained why you'd never seen most of these folk.

"I don't know much about him to be fair, but if he's shacking up with Gretchen I'm pretty sure they're equally sucky. Anyway, I'm trying to get everybody as fucked up as possible." You clarified, skirting around exactly what you were trying to do which was to ruin the wedding. Maybe these kids had better morals than you. "The bride sorta caused a rift between my girlfriend and I years back, outed me to the whole school, it was a scandal, we broke up and I spiralled. It was bad and I want revenge."

"She outed you? Like..." Flint looked around, looking scared someone was gonna hear. Nobody else was around. "Like you're gay?"

"I'm here with my girlfriend today." You said, smiling dopeyly. Your cheeks hurt. "I think we're back together. It's complicated. So, you wanna sell?"

"Hell yeah," He grinned, teeth crooked to the ninth degree. "Can we get in on it? Michael totally sucks, he orders us around like we're his minions or something."

The other two nodded along empathetically. They all had the same boxy, swoopy haircut that kept falling into their eyes. What luck that ran into the angsty teens of the clan.

"I don't know how much you'll be able to do without getting in trouble with your parents. Gotta be at least a little subtle."

Flint dug into his backpack and pulled out a plastic tupperware. There were some decent-looking nugs in there from what you could see through the frosted plastic. You handed over the cash.

"Pleasure doing business with you." You contemplated for a moment. "Any chance you could pull the fire alarm for the cake-cutting?"

The three matching evil grins were enough of an answer for you. Their little emo faces made your chest feel warm. You wanted to take them under your wing, or something.

"By the way, weed is fine. It's not great, I don't recommend it, but if you're gonna do drugs then this is best case scenario." You shook the plastic case in your hand. "Never do hard drugs. It's gonna make your hair fall out and teeth hurt like a bitch."

You left the three teenagers to smoke their blunt, knowing that your little shpiel probably went through one ear and out the other. You hoped they pulled through but if they didn't, you were planning on doing enough wicked shit that the sprinklers triggering would just be a cherry on top.

You found Janis smoking a cigarette at the same spot you'd been at earlier.

"You got a grinder?"

You opened the lid of the box, blasting the air with the potent smell of cannabis.

"Where the fuck did you get all that?" She asked as she reached into her purse.

"Not important. What is, though, is how we'll get the guests high."

Janis, the bright mind that she was, immediately got to work. You didn't even bother asking what she was up to when she crouched on the floor and began grinding away. She had fast hands, you observed, with how quick and clean she was rolling several blunts. Now that you saw clearly into the tupperware, lord almighty Flint had a lot of kush.

"What's the plan?" You asked after a moment, holding the box in one hand and blunts in the other. You stubbornly ignored the compulsion to stick one between your lips and light up. That was over for you.

"Find a Helen, a Beatrice, and or a Leigh-Anne, and convince them this is a miracle herb harvested from the government-protected, top-secret alpine springs of Florida, known for reversing wrinkles, repairing hymens, and with long-term use reducing hair growth neck down. It might even accelerate or delay menopause, depending on whose asking."

"Florida is the flattest state in the continental USA." You pointed out.

"Exactly." Janis didn't spare you a glance, just kept on rolling.

"So we're spinning a multilevel-marketing scheme on these people."

"Not really." Janis paused and turned to you. "We're just scamming them. Not even with money, with the devil's lettuce."

"That's arguably worse. I think this might be a felony."

"Oh, it definitely is."

Notes: The ball is rolling! At last! It only took five chapters good golly god.

Taglist posted seperately! If you want on it, comment so on that post!

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

hiii request for billie since i saw u needed some requests and im always full of them for bills

could you do a fic/blurb about her getting a tattoo for either both of us (something that represents the relationship) or for just us (something that represents us) and write about the reader seeing it and billie explaining to them that it’s about them / their relationship

idk i just thought of that it’s kinda cutsie tho!

thank yewwww

My Infinity

|| Billie Eilish x nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; none, just fluffy, short drabble

|| Summary; Billie gets a tattoo for the reader and shows it off to them.

Requests open!

Started; september 29th

Finished; october 2nd

~~~

"Babe! Come look at this!" Billie's voice rang out through the house as you heard your girlfriend come home. You'd been in the living room, playing a video game which you paused the moment you heard her voice.

Practically jumping off the couch as you stood, you made your way to Billie with a smile; giving her jawline a kiss as you hugged her. Leaving your arms loosely around her shoulders. "What is it, Bils?"

"Check this out," Billie smirked, giving you a gentle nudge so she could pull off her shirt. You raised an eyebrow in confusion, watching her with curiosity.

She then pointed to a fresh tattoo, you guessed that's what she'd been doing the last few hours. Getting another tattoo. Though this one was different, it rested just above where her heart would be and was the infinity symbol. Where the circles would have crossed was instead a heart; then in very fine calligraphy... was your name.

Your eyes widened when you noticed the details of it. How it had your name, the heart, the infinity symbol. It was easy to piece together what it meant; especially since Billie wouldn't stop smiling.

"Billie..." Her name left your mouth as barely a whisper, your own smile mirroring hers.

"Like it?" She asked, though she figured by your reaction that you did. She just wanted to hear you say it.

"Yes," You nodded and pulled her close to you again, taking her lips against yours in a kiss.

The symbol was sweet and you couldn't help but love her even more for getting the tattoo.

[maopll]

May I request Diluc, Ayato, Al-Haitham and Kaveh with an s/o that likes to snuggle up to the boys when they sleep together?

Hold me close

| genshin impact !

⌗:, a/n: two same requests? damn you guys are once again on to something but...yeah even I would shove my face up their chest. it looks comfy.

⌗:, warning: none, just men with big tits.

⌗:, pairings: diluc, ayato, zhongli, alhaitham, kaveh, & itto w/ gn!reader

DILUC

It's been a tiring day for both of you. Him attending to the winery and tavern, and you taking care of the house all while completing commisons and meeting with people who want to make business with Dawn winery. As always you returned first and because of the hectic day you really wanted to just hug your boyfriend as you would cuddle him to sleep but it looks like he will once again be late... you will wait for him just like you always do.

Once he was here it was already late with the clocks hand past midnight. "were you sleeping my love?" he said softly incase you were sleeping "no, was just waiting for you" you said sitting up straight and held your arms up for him to hug you. He came closer and wrapped his arms around him. He smelled like old oak and fresh grapes. classic diluc scent. He slid under the covers and hugged you but you really wanted to feel the warmth of your lover so you snuggled closer to his chest. It tickled him a little but it never annoyed him rather he liked it very much that you felt protected within his big arms. plus you wouldn't miss an opportunity to drift off to sleep as you are enveloped by his warmth.

AYATO

He is so busy everyday and you wished that he would come join you in bed everyday. you two barely get any time to talk about the things of today, what you planned tomorrow and other useless or useful things that will help both of you to get tired and just dift off to slumber. but today he was able to complete his paperwork early. you had closed your eyes but had it not been the shuffling of the covers, you wouldn't have noticed your lovers presence.

"ayato?.." he chuckled lightly as he saw you call his name while still in a sleep like state "did i wake you up sweetheart?...come here" he ushered you towards his chest and his big hands wrapped around your body. you snuggled into his chest and smiled softly. ahh, there's no place that feels this like home. within the arms of your darling. he smelled like expensive ink. he was probably busy with calligraphy before retiring for the night. he lightly stroked your hair and waited until he felt your breathing get steady. he kissed your forehead while whispering a soft "sweet dreams dear.."

ZHONGLI

Today was lantern rite. Although before you two started dating you would visit the liyue harbor during this day but this time you two decided to celebrate this day inside your lovely abode. As the day finally ended you two returned to your bed for the night.

The light in the wharf made its way towards your curtains and dimly illuminated the room as the sound of crackers in the far distance could be heard. he smiled as he is once again reminded of the liyue of today than of the past. Closing the blinds he joined you in bed who was waiting for him. You wriggled your way in his grasp and snuggled closer to his chest taking as much warmth as you could. You two had been dating for quite a while but he still he feels the same tickles in his stomach that he used to feel when you two first fell in love. He gave you one final kiss on the lips before he himself drifts away to dreamland. He wishes to feel like this once again the next day, once more for all etenities.

AL-HAITHAM

After a tiring day in the academiya as the acting Grand Sage he couldn't wait to greet his darling back who's back at the house waiting for him. Once he entered your shared abode he never forgets to announce that he is home "I am home albi" soon enough his senses were wrapped up by his favourite dish that you were cooking for dinner that night.

"Welcome back, dear." You went up to him and hugged him close. moments like these shared between you two were always cherished by him because of how homely he feels when he's with you rather than being surrounded by tons of different books. "I cooked you dinner come to the dinner table after you freshen up" you told him and he did so as he couldn't wait till he gets to eat his favourite dish that you made for him. After having your meal, you two stayed on the couch as he read a book and had your figure wrapped up around his other arm. You thought you would spend sole quality time with your lover but the softness if his chest really made you feel drowsy plus his constant heart beat was like a lullaby and only fueled your sleep to come even closer. After he noticed your stillness he chuckled a little and carried you to bed for a well deserved rest for the both of you

KAVEH

Trying to pay off debts, convincing alhaitham to let him stay and not get bankrupt once again takes a toll on his body. He gets tired but once he looks at the trinkets you give him with little notes like 'good work' 'keep going!' along with little heart and smilies drawn that he gets his energy back. he cannot wait to return to your shared abode and rest in your arms as your body heat envelops him.

It has already been a bit late collecting all the data for his next architecture masterpiece. You were waiting in the living room for him. Alhaitham had already gone back to bed. You usually go back to bed early but you decided to stay up sometime for your lover. "baby you're still awake!" he strided towards you and hugged you to his chest. After he cleaned and dressed up, no days goes by without you two cuddling eachother it's a must everyday. You between his chest and his face in your hair as he smiles softly while he hums a few traditional rhymes he heard from the desert people and the people living in the rainforest. They never fail to make you have the sweetest of dreams. He is truly is the light of your life.

ITTO

His chest is the best. You always tell him to lend his chest to let you have your nap or sleep or whatever. it's comfortable and warm with the rapid beating of his heart working as a radio for your ears.

After tagging along with him and cleaning up whatever crimes he committed for the day, you were tired and your legs were aching. you kept running with him as he ran from the tenryou commision. you wanted some well needed rest. however, bullchucker here had some other plans. to take you out to araumi and watch the sunset with you near the cliff like how you two always did. He told you about the plan but you were too tired to move another step today. so he princess carried you all the way from konda village to the araumi and sat near the sea watching the sunset with you. He had one arm under your leg and the other holding your back as you wrapped your arms around his neck while snuggling into his chest. This was a favourite spot for the both of you. Atleast twice a week would you two come here where there are no disturbances but with you two enjoying the summer sunset while basking in your lovers warmth.

[heartilywrites]

Korra x female firebender reader pretty please 💗

It can start off as fluff and turn into smut AUGHAG <33

Obviously, the time is during s3-s4, reader writes numerous letters to Korra, yearning for her (but ofc they just act as very close friends through the letters) and then Korra comes back from the North Pole, but instead of disappearing to the swamp, she go sees reader instead. I think you and I both know where this is going 😻

THANK YOU HOPE THIS IS ENOUGH HAVE A LOVELY DAY <333

،، 𝓜ake it Better ; Korra

request guide | masterlist

resume: where Korra gives you a visit after three years of being away.

content warning: fluff and if you squint enough there's angst ; Korra x fem!reader ; r is a firebender ! ; ¡¡ MINORS DNI !! ; nsfw ; thigh riding ; fingering ; oral (r receiving) ; scissoring ; switch!korra n' r ; after care i think??? i mean, i believe it is some type of after care what i wrote- ; description of amber colored eyes for r ; no use of y/n

wc: 2.8k

a/n: this is my first smut in like,,, 8 months i think, be nice to me i cry easily /j. i didn’t really mention that r was a firebender that much, i got carried away- hope thats okay 🥺 ENJOY THANK U FOR REQUESTING :D

“ If I could figure it out, I'd take you back to my house so we could meddle about.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “𝓓earest Korra,

It's been a whole week since you left us, can you believe it? Things here are... not the same without you.

How have you been? I mean, it's been just seven days, but it's just weird, we haven't been this far since I met you. I hope you're doing okay, know that I will be writing you eventually! Everyone says hi, by the way, I'm sure you'll get a letter from them too, but just to let you know. Bolin is the most excited to receive a letter back, I've seen him practice his calligraphy, it's cute.

Write me back too when you have the chance! I would like to read about you.

Sincerely yours,”

Blue eyes read once, twice, even three times the letter with a weak smile on her face. Her fingers caressed your letter and streak your name.

Being back in the south by herself sure got the best out of her, she missed everyone, she missed you, but it was something she needed to do to get better. To be better and feel like she deserved you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Dearest,

Hey! I'm sorry for not responding back earlier, but it's been hard.

I've been good? I'm starting physiotherapy with Katara and it's something. Thank you for writing me, I can't tell you how much I miss you guys; Three weeks is a crazy amount of time to be away from you, hope you don't miss me much, blaze.

Can I ask you to do me a favor? Don't tell the others I wrote to you, I'm just now finding the correct words to write to you and I don’t want them to feel like I don’t appreciate them. I trust you, commander arson.

Yours always,

Korra.”

A little laugh left your mouth after reading the two nicknames the avatar had always used on you. Your heart skipped at the beginning, how she only wrote dearest without your name... That couldn't mean much, right? She was one of your best friends, even if your feelings for her were strong, your willpower to keep the relationship as it is was way stronger.

Your friends have talked to you about an opportunity were she may feel the same back and it was just a matter of talking it out, but then Zaheer targeted Korra again and all romance–talk went through out the window. It all sank after the result of the war between the red lotus and the whole team, the letter were all you had left of the girl and at that moment you wouldn't risk losing it.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Dearest Korra,

I'm starting to think that maybe this new job is not for me... The people is boring and I'm running out of ideas to keep the fun atmosphere, maybe I should go and work with Asami, don't you think, breeze? My experience on dealing with disasters may be of help if she needs a test subject for the inventions, I'm good at dispersing fire with more fire!

I can't believe it's been a whole year since we last saw each other... How is the physiotherapy going? I hope is going great, don't be so hard on yourself, Korra, I know you. Healing usually takes time and it's okay to go on your own pace... I lo am sending all of my good energy your way, know that I am always here for you, in the good and the bad, please let me know if you need anything. Hopefully we'll see each other soon.

Sincerely yours,”

The night that Korra was reading again that specific letter from you was the same night were she hit rock bottom with her whole healing process. A couple of tears ran down her cheeks after the last paragraph, only the moon knew how much Korra missed and loved you and having you say such words to her knowing how at some point the girl may get burnout from trying was what made the avatar fall in love with you. You knew her to a point where only if she looked in the back on her brain she may find how you were right and that made her feel warm.

  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Dearest blaze,

Hey... I hope you didn't waited too long for me to write you back. I'm so sorry, it has been a really rough time for me and I didn’t feel like burdening you with my problems.

I did receive the last couple of letters you sent and I read them, I'm so grateful to have you with me. Thank you for not giving up on me just yet, you're the best.

Yours always,

Korra.”

Your hand was moving fast over the new sheet of paper while writing your thoughts on the last letter. How could she say she was a burden? You've make sure she never felt that way! Since meeting Korra you always worked on making the girl trust you with everything, you made your mission being her confident, the shoulder she looked for when she needed to cry and reading how she felt bad with herself made your heart burn with pain.

Even if by then two years have gone by, you felt like nothing has changed between the waterbender and you, hell! you could say that the bond was stronger than ever despite your heart's desire.

The letter just kept going and coming every now and then until at one point after six months over the three years, they stopped from Korra's side. You got worried, of course, but thought that maybe the white lotus was training her again to get her back in the game and that made her time very limited. Your mind found another way to keep occupied from those loud thoughts and you keep it that way.

Humming a melody made your throat vibrate and your index finger made a little little flame to lit up a scent candle and accommodate it on the table at your living room, you were getting ready to read a little bit when a knocking on your door made you stand up again.

When you opened your door, your eyes widened and you felt as if someone had hypnotized you. A short haired Korra was in front of you, wearing earth kingdom clothes and with an eye starting to swell, she smiled with a sad aura, but her eyes sparkled a little bit with excitement at finally seeing you again.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “My spirits, Korra... I'm– I– what happened to you?” you broke the silence, mumbling at the questions trying to come out your mouth all at once. You took her hand to get her inside your house, she just kept her eyes on you.

You were as beautiful as she remembered, dare to say even more than before. Your fire nation clothes hugging your body and that wonderful scent that characterizes you was what Korra had missed. She took a deep breath in to smell it again and was met with the familiar scent of your house as well, how she missed it.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I needed to see you.” she spoke, her voice sounded deeper than it was, you felt a tiny electric current travel your spine. “I just... I couldn't be far from you anymore.”

A smile began to creep on your face and your arms were quick to hug the avatar, she swallowed a grunt at the sudden hit of your body on hers as she missed that and hugged you back. A small sob was heard.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I missed you so much, Korra.” you whispered sobbing again. “You have no idea.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I missed you too.” her hand went to your head where she left tiny caresses. “I'm so sorry for disappearing, I've been trying to feel like myself again.”

You distanced yourself from her and looked at her with concern. Your hand reached hers and were fast to guide her to sit at the couch so you could talk to the girl.

For the first time, Korra let out everything she had been feeling and thinking after so many years and you listened to her cautiously, stroking her hand with your thumb to make her feel safe and to convince you that she was there, that it wasn't another one of your dreams. When she finished she looked back up to you and you smiled at her.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I can't even imagine how hard it is to you,” you said in a soft tone, your amber eyes looked down to both your and her hands. “You're so strong, Korra. Physically and mentally, you are the strongest person I know and I know you're capable of coming out of this. You will be okay,” your eyes went back to the blue ones. “You won't have to do it alone, darling, I'm here for you.”

The avatar softened her gaze at you, that was all she needed to hear at that moment. She felt fortunate to have you by her side even at the worst moments.

Her free hand made its way to your cheek were she left strokes just as you were doing with her hand, both colored eyes were fixated to each other with such devotion. Both bodies moved unconsciously to be closer together until the breath mixed, warm and hot meeting. Your mind was cloudy at such close distance, you were sure you hallucinated with her eyes twitching to your lips and were about to move and offer her coffee when her lips clashed on yours in such a unsynchronized way that it was almost funny, you pulled away for a moment surprised to the act.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Shit, listen, I–” she tried to explain herself before you interrupted her with another kiss.

This one was more harmonized than the first one, your hands had left hers and looked to rest on each side of her face, pulling her as close as the anatomy allowed you to be. At first instance, it was supposed to be a sweet kiss of reconciliation with your feelings, but a small moan had vibrated on your throat without your permission and Korra took it as an opportunity to deepen the gesture.

While her tongue was fighting with yours, both her hands moved to your hips and in a quick move she had put you on top of her while still attending your lips. When your lungs burned for air, her mouth was fast to make a trail from yours to your neck.

Your head was thrown back to give her more access, one of your hands tangled with the brown locks on her head. She stopped at a sensitive spot after hearing you sigh with such devotion, smiling a little bit malicious she decided to make a hickey by sucking the skin under her mouth making you do satisfied sounds that vibrated your vocal chords, after admiring her work that she knew would leave a dark mark, she tried to continue but was stopped with the fabric of your superior part, Korra distanced a bit to look at you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Can I?” was asked referring to the piece, you nodded a little bit and watch her hands take the belt off your waist and helped her to take off the whole fabric and letting it fall to the floor.

When her lips met your neck again, Korra breathe in your scent, delighted to how sweet you smelled. Your hips under her hands looked for more closeness by rocking a little bit to the front and that only action gave the girl an idea.

She pulled away again and made her hands guide your body to sit on only one of her legs, you followed without any complaint; Korra made you start grinding on her thigh, with tiny moans you were obedient to keep the action she did and when the girl raised her leg to apply pressure to your core making you let out a sigh of relief at how good it felt. Foreign lips went back to your skin, she was attending now your breast over your bra, making more hickeys on her way.

The calling of her name in a shaky voice made her look up to your amber eyes drowned in lust. “I need you, please.”

Her mouth took yours in a desperate kiss and was quick to stand up from the couch with you on her arms to make the well known way to your bedroom. Even if the avatar's body felt heavy by the constant fights she had before deciding to visit you, at that moment she didn’t feel exhausted, the hunger she had for you had substituted her tiredness.

With caution, your body was left on the mattress while the kiss continued. Korra made her way again to your breasts, taking off your last piece on the top her mouth attended your nipples making you moan at the sensation of her tongue moving while her hands were undoing your pants. When she got them off, her left hand slipped under your underwear to your intimacy. Iced color eyes looked at you with a smile at the feeling of wetness between your thighs.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “All that for me?” she raised an eyebrow, you could feel your face burn and tried to look away, but Korra's free hand made you turn your gaze back at her without harm. “Eyes on me.”

Her middle finger was tracing on top of your intimacy, making you moan in complain, you were about to talk again when one of her digits slipped in you now allowing you to moan with pleasure. The way her pace was slow was driving you crazy, your hips moved over her hand like asking for more non-verbally and she pleased by adding a second finger, the way your walls clutched over her fingers made her giggled a little bit.

She continued her action for a couple more seconds watching your expressions and loving the sound of your moans for her before she completely removed her fingers from you gaining a grunt.

She was quick to remove completely your last piece of clothes and move over to be between your legs, your eyes followed her curious to see how she was going down on you and when her lips got your clitoris along with one of her fingers entering again in your core, a loud moan came out of you.

Raising your back from the mattress, one one your hands went to her hair tangling brown locks to your fingers, another finger interfered in you and her pace got faster. Your free hand reached to squeeze your own breast while you were being taken care off and when a knot on your abdomen started to form you tried to call for the girl to tell her but was only able to moan out her name in a scream followed by your orgasm.

Your eyes got heavy but you forced yourself to stay awake when the avatar stood back up with your juices on her chin and a little bit on her nose, you smiled pulling her on a kiss tasting yourself in the process.

Your hands tried to undress the girl in a clumsy way while trying to comeback on yourself so she did it herself. Korra didn’t know what you tried to do, but surely stripped to her underwear. Just as she did, you took of her bottom piece and now forced her to lay on the bed.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What are you–” you put your finger over your own mouth on a silent expression.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Trust me.” you said hoarsely with a tired smile.

Your hands made her legs open for you to position yourself between them. Still sensitive after your first climax, you rubbed yourself against the southerner with such pleasure that you now were able to finally hear moans from her that made you smile. Korra was calling for your name between moans and heavy breaths she was giving, you folded over to kiss her and let the moans drown on both mouths. When picking a faster pace, both bodies started to feel the same knot on the lower area and after the waterbender got to her climax you followed her, now completely defeated you fell besides her.

Korra pulled you closer to her with her arms and hugged you tight, letting you rest your head on her chest. A couple of minutes were needed for both to recuperate, the avatar was leaving caresses on your head and tiny pecks on your crown.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “We'll find someone who can help you,” you spat, still hoarsely, now looking up to her. Amber eyes filled with compasion. “Don't give up just yet, I know we can find someone.”

Cold eyes looked at you with such tenderness and love before Korra pulled you in for a sweet kiss. “I love you.” she whispered over your lips, making you smile big. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I love you too,” you said back, leaving caresses on her cheeks. “I always have and always will, my love.”

[caramelpenguin]

Sunday Snippet

I found something I was writing from a while back, and who knows when I'll finish it (hopefully next year). Here's a very small part of it:

It’s on a Monday in April that Simon almost trips over on his way to his lesson.  He has two minutes to get to his classroom. On the floor is a light purple notebook. Thinking it must be his, he dumps it in his backpack, and promptly forgets about it until he arrives home. Opening the front page of the notebook, it’s clear that it’s full of random doodles and irrelevant notes. There’s a few frog drawings that progressively become better and detailed, and Simon is about to close it and place it in his bag to find the owner tomorrow, when he flicks to the last page to see if it’ll reveal anything about who it belongs to. His mama is singing in the kitchen as she prepares dinner- the smell of spices wafting all over the house, Sara is on a call with a friend in her room, his fish are swimming calmly in their tank, and Simon’s jaw drops. The last page of the lilac notebook is adorned with multiple phrases that range from ‘Simon Eriksson’ in beautiful calligraphy, to ‘curls curls curls curls curlscurlscurls’ and ‘urghrsngn hiiiiiissss eeeeyyyyyyeeesssss’ and ‘his voice is magical, i could listen forever’ and ‘what do i dooooooo0o0o0o0o0?????’  with hearts and stars patterned across the margin.  It’s highly intrusive, but it’s also about him, so Simon gives himself a pass. 

[itsabouttimex2]

I have seen many yandere parental figure so how about yandere offspring? Like Yandere mk/nezha/redson/mei to his parental figure? How would their parental figure to their child "strange" behavior?

Yandere Children:

Red Son and Ne Zha

(This is the first time I’ve written romantic yandere for Y/N. Not too surprised that it was for Bull King and Iron Fan.)

I like to think of this particular Y/N as a demon born of ice, someone who owes a serious debt to Princess Iron Fan.

When she finally calls it in, you head immediately to her fortified residence, seeing the former celestial standing outside with her husband, a small bundle in his arms.

You expect the worst, and prepare accordingly. The favor you owe is great- no task is beyond her asking. Your blessing, or a fragment of your power. Your service as a guard or war companion. Your compliance in a murderous scheme. But Princess Iron Fan does not wish for any of that.

Instead, she wants a babysitter.

“We were hoping… that you might be a suitable caretaker for our son. It could be that your natural affinity for ice will help to neutralize Red Son’s wielding of the Samahdi Fire.”

So the little boiling bundle is pushed into your icy arms, steam hissing and filling the air on contact.

His temperature lowers as yours rises, the little baby cooing and laughing at the humid mist swirling around you.

“…I didn’t know you had a son,” you say, poking the plumpness of his little scarred cheek. “And what a big and healthy thing he is, too.”

“A worthy heir to my throne!” The Demon Bull King proudly announces, watching closely as you handle his cherished son. Gently, you press a kiss to his bindi. Pulling away slowly, your lips leave a glittering ice-blue mark upon it, reading simply: 凛.

This is the life you settle into, a mostly peaceful passing of days spent playing with the growing boy and helping to tame his deadly flames.

Any time they grow out of control (and it happens frequently) you quickly reapply your blessing to his forehead, chilling his internal temperature and forcing his body to redirect the fire to heat himself up.

His parents watch on in awe, seeing you so easily and calmly reign in something so deadly and uncontrollable. You quickly become more than a temporary babysitter, given a lavish room furnished with every luxury that a demon could desire.

(Let’s be honest, there’s some real poly energy with you’ve got going on with PIF and DBK. ‘Live-in babysitter’, my ass.)

As the three of you grow closer, so swells your bond with Red Son, serving as primary caretaker and educator. He’s a prodigal learner, taking quickly to magic especially. You learn that the boy has a knack for putting things together, spot-welding any pieces of metal he can find. These little jagged creations are often gifted to you, and you have a shelf entirely dedicated to displaying them. Often will he reject his own bed to sleep beside you, finding comfort in the coldness of your skin.

But, in spite of all sweetness…

Red Son is still a demon, things that are horribly powerful and often violent or deceitful, if not outright murderous.

And he grows to see Y/N as being something that belongs to the Demon Bull Clan. And sure, with the nearly unpayable debt you owe to Iron Fan and your budding relationship with his parents, he’s not exactly wrong.

A caretaker, a maid, a teacher, a mentor, a friend. These are all things you have become in grateful service to this powerful family. And eventually, all those things bleed to what they really what:

A spouse and a parent.

It’s hard to tell exactly when the shift in their perspective occurs, because their obsession is a slow, drudging creep. But the shift in their actions once they realize their obsession is instead blindingly quick.

One day you’re sitting down with Red to teach him calligraphy, gently and reassuringly fixing his brushstroke and complimenting every line he gets right, all while he demands to sit in your lap.

Then night falls and it is made very clear to you what your new role in the family in, complete with a shift in sleeping area and clothing.

You’re pressed flush between Iron Fan and Bull King as they slumber, dressed in a red silk gown and bearing purple-jeweled rings across many of your fingers. Red Son sleeps on your chest, his grip immovably tight.

And this is the new life you must grow accustomed to, either to repay your debt or perhaps… because you have come to like it.

Loved isn’t the worst thing to be, after all.

(Personal headcanon: befitting his status as the Third Lotus Prince, most offerings given to Ne Zha consist of foods containing lotus seeds, lotus root, and lotus paste. At this point, he’s grown somewhat sick of the sweet taste. He actually prefers meat and vegetables.)

“Ne Zha,” you call, exploring the halls of his palace. “Little one, it’s time for dinner!”

All that meets your words is the clanging of metal and the tearing of leather. He’s training again, as always.

You push aside a silk curtain embroidered with many lotuses, revealing a well-stocked armory lined with dozen of training dummies.

And in the middle is a very worn-out Ne Zha, the little prince dripping with sweat.

“Little one,” you say, causing the boy’s sash to stand to attention, startled upwards like the tail of a cat. “What did I say about training so late?”

“I, um… I’m not supposed to train… so I won’t want to sleep in late to, um, make up for lost energy.”

“That’s right, sweetpea. Come on, let’s get something in your stomach. And then you’ll need a bath.”

“I already took a bath today,” he huffs, slotting his dual-tipped spear face-down into a holding pot. “I don’t need another.”

Timed to the click of your tongue, you swipe a finger across the young boy’s forehead, dragging a line in the built-up sweat. “I think you do, Ne Zha.”

“…hmph,” he pouts, his little cheeks puffing out. Though the prince is much too polite to outright refuse or go so far as to throw a tantrum, he still shows his displeasure in a quiet and mild way.

It’s one of the things you cherish most about him. Ne Zha is well behaved and rather mature, to the point where you have to encourage him to play and take breaks. It feels a little unfair, really, that someone so young has been saddled with so much responsibility.

You ply the Third Lotus Prince with plushies and paints, allowing him to explore avenues of creativity and make-believe. It’s nourishing for both his mind and body, a period of well-earned rest to slowly recuperate from the constant training he’s so insist on enduring.

In turn, he’s viciously protective of you, and often asks for your explicit attention over any other maidservant in the Celestial Realm.

Expect him to ward off any would-be suitors by challenging them to duels. It’s a lose-lose scenario . They either somehow win and beat the hell out of a little boy, or, more likely, get the hell beaten out of them by a little boy. Either way, it’s not exactly something that endears them to you, watching grown men and women raise their blades to your protective charge.

Kissing his wounds and fixing his hair, doting on the little lotus prince as your would-be suitors seethe, wishing that they were the ones receiving your attention.

Eventually, Ne Zha will properly dress himself (that’s a lie, he needed your help) for an audience with several important deities in the Celestial Realm, he asks for your permanent placement as his personal parent maidservant.

And what reason do they have to deny such a loyal warrior?

[snailmail444]

Silent Night

NSFW ⭐️ 18+ ⭐️ MDNI

It’s your first winter star with Sam’s family! Everything is going great, except for the fact that you two can’t get a moment of privacy.

For @beet-roots Merry Kinkmas

AO3 Link

“Okay now let’s do Sammy’s girlfriend’s present!” Vincent squirms in your lap with excitement, looking upside down at you. His big blue eyes sparkle with adoration, and you think he takes after his brother.

Sam beside you looks playfully dejected. He pushes out his lip in a pout, shoving his hand into Vincent’s hair and down his face.

“Bro, stop,” he whines, and you think maybe his jealousy isn’t all for show, “you’re rizzing her up too much! She’s gonna leave me for you, dude!”

Sam’s playing, but you know he is at least a little perturbed because Vince can sit in your lap and he can’t. It’s a wonder he’s not climbing the walls right now, all things considered.

With deadly efficiency you use one hand to tickle his ribs, and Sam cringes back in a cry of surrender.

Kent rolls his eyes and coughs to hide a laugh while Jodi giggles. She gives you a sweet smile as she passes over a silver wrapped box. It says ‘from all of us’ in swooping calligraphy, and you know that means it’s from Jodi.

“You wanna unwrap it bud?” You ask, and Sam��s hand twitches out to the package before he realizes you were talking to Vince. Another pout, and you smirk at him while Vince annihilates the beautiful wrapping job Jodi did.

Dutifully, he passes back the unassuming cardboard box and crawls off your lap so you can open it properly.

You pull the top away and don’t delay in pushing back the tissue and removing the deep red nightgown, holding it up to the light to see better.

“I know it’s not very hip,” Jodi says, her voice quiet and maybe a little insecure, “but I—uh, we—just couldn’t leave it. Sammy sent those gorgeous pictures of you and I kept thinking how lovely you would look in it.”

It is pretty, albeit more conservative than you would ever pick for yourself. The gown is ankle length, with sleeves that hit the wrist. Lace and gold beading trim the edges, and you think Jodi has good taste.

You can feel Sam’s eyes heavy on you, on the nightgown, and you have to bite back a grin. He’s so desperate for you at this point, you know exactly where his brain is. Poor baby hasn’t gone over a day without sex since you two got together about four months ago, and with prepping and visiting it’s been a week since he had his hands on you.

“It’s perfect Jodi, thank you,” you say, winking at her conspiratorially before saying, “all of you have excellent fashion sense.”

In a show of good faith you change into it after dinner. Jodi was right—the color complements your complexion perfectly. And while it’s long, and shows no skin, it clings to your curves and drapes in such a way that you still look shapely. You look sexy in a prudish sort of way.

You’re not the only one that seems to think so. The moment you emerge from the bedroom to show Jodi the final product, Sam’s back to staring at you hard. As Jodi ooh’s and ah’s over you with the affection only a mother has, and Vincent stares with big round eyes and tells you you’re beautiful with a nervous little blush, Sam begins to fidget.

A glance at him and you think he might drag you out to his truck for some privacy and rail you in the passenger seat. Your cunt pulses with excitement. Vincent is going to be too distracted with his toys to bother you, and Jodi and Kent are going to take the Mullner’s Christmas cookies, so you’ll have time for a quickie if all goes well.

“And what about you, Sammy, don’t you think that—“ there’s a knock on the door, startling Jodi into silence. She presses a hand against her chest. “Goodness, now who could that be so late?”

Jodi wanders off towards the door and Sam circles in on you like a predator, fingers skimming the fabric where it hits your waist. He leans in close, and his voice is raspy in your ear. “I like this,” he says, giving it a small, affectionate tug, and you know that tone. That’s the tone he uses when he’s going to fuck you like an animal. A shiver of anticipatory arousal claws its way down your spine, and you smile.

“I can't say I approve of you coming all the way out here in the cold so late, but you know I’m always happy to see you Sebastian,” Jodi giggles, opening the door wider and letting in a pink cheeked, crookedly grinning Sebastian. He’s got a small present wrapped in his hands, and his eyes are positively glittering as he stares up at Sam’s mom.

“You know I can’t go a Winter Star without seeing you, Miss Jodi,” he says, savoring the words Miss Jodi. Sam retracts from your space while Jodi giggles and blushes, and he throws up his hands with a groan.

“Dude stop flirting with my mom,” he whines, and Sebastian laughs once before shaking his head and giving Jodi a sweet smile.

“I’m not flirting Sammy, I’m being polite. You should try it once in a while,” he says, and he winks before coming up to you and Sam.

“Why are you here?” Irritation drips off his every word, and you know Sam is properly annoyed. Pent up, desperate, and cockblocked by his best friend who’s also hitting on his mom.

Bad day for Samson.

“Other than I wanted to give you your present? I needed a break from the ‘festivities,’” he makes air quotes around festivities, and you can feel Sam unwind in resignation. “Come with me for a walk?”

“What’s the magic word?” Sam’s already stepping towards the door to his room, presumably to get dressed for the outside, and you feel a tug of disappointment. Maybe it’s not Sam getting cockblocked.

“I’ll say please if it makes you happy Samson.”

Your face must be doing something by the time Sam’s dressed and ready for the cold, because Sebastian frowns apologetically and Sam twists his mouth. Once Jodi finishes fussing over her boys and departs with Kent, Sam approaches with a sheepish smile.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, and you stare at him hard in a way that hopes to convey your emotions.

“You better,” You respond, and maybe it’s a little more irritable than you meant for it to be because Sam looks like a kicked puppy as he follows Sebastian out the door. You’d feel worse if you weren’t babysitting Vincent alone on Winter Star when you could be getting railed.

It doesn’t take long for Jodi and Kent to get back—an hour said and done—and everyone readies for bed pretty immediately, too exhausted from the fact that Vince woke everybody at the godless hour of five am for presents. Sam still isn’t back by the time you crawl into his bed, and you glare at the air mattress where he should be and hope he can feel the phantom pain wherever he is.

You’re drifting off when a swoop of cold air chills you to the bone. There’s a light commotion, and you hear Sam go “fucking shit ass,” before you fully process that he’s stumbling in the window. You sit back, burrowing into his blankets as he regains his footing.

“Later Seb,” he calls outside with a wave, and you wave too, tight and irritable.

“See you Sammy. If you need me I’ll be in the master bedroom,” Sebastian calls back, and you hear his footsteps recede along with maniacal laughter, a faint call of bye to you billowing in the wind as an afterthought.

“Remind me to kick his ass,” Sam looks at you once he snaps the windowpane shut with a big grin, his cheeks pink and snow dusting his eyelashes. It makes you angry how good he looks right now, how disgustingly cute and charming.

“Sure,” you cross your arms and pout, averting your gaze as Sam comes up and kneels by the side of the bed.

“Baby please, I’m sorry,” he reaches for your hand, and when you don’t give it he settles for your gripping the nightgown, and it doesn’t go unnoticed that it’s right at the apex of your thigh, “what was I supposed to do? Say no to Seb in front of everybody?”

“Yes.”

He buries his face in the sheets beside you and you finally spare him a glance. He senses it and looks up at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes he can muster, and you feel yourself melting under his gaze.

“Please, let me make it up to you,” he says, and there’s a little whine in his voice. Desperation, maybe. “I need you so bad, you look so hot right now, please.”

The chill of the room mingles with the sensation of watching Sam beg on his knees and makes your nipples hard, and you decide to go on with it for a minute. “It’s just a shame. I’m not even wearing any underwear, Sammy, because I was so excited to finally get a minute alone with you.”

He whines, shifts, and you can see the excited bulge growing in his pants.

“Too bad everybody’s home now so we can’t do anything. I’m really horny too.”

“No we can, please,” he grabs your hand now, chilly fingers insistent on yours, “we just have to be quiet. Everybody’s asleep. Come on, please?”

You almost break right now, but you hold out. If you can get him that much more worked up, it’ll be worth your while. “I dunno if you’d be able to keep it down Sammy. For your Winter Star present I was gonna let you fuck me without a condom—you know, an unwrapped gift kinda thing.”

It’s something you’ve been saving specifically for a moment like this. Truthfully you know Sam’s clean and you have reliable birth control, and would have let him hit raw months ago, but making him twitch with anticipation has been more fun than anything else.

And oh, it’s worth it to watch the way his eyes widen and his face slackens. He sits up that much taller, and you’re almost surprised he doesn’t clasp his hands together and shake them.

“Baby, I promise I’ll be good. I need you so bad. I really want my present, I’ll do anything.”

You gesture for him to stand, and he does because he’s a puppet on strings, and you arch your eyebrow at him. “You can start by putting your money where your mouth is. Sit at the foot of the bed for me and prove you can stay quiet by touching yourself.”

Sam’s clothes shlump to the floor unceremoniously as he peels off his layers, and you feel a pang of guilt because he’s shivering and flushed since he’s not warm yet. In a show of good faith, you kick the blanket towards him and scoot until you’re rested on the headboard.

It’s alright, you reason, because he won’t be left alone for long.

Sam wraps the blanket around his shoulders, and you watch with enthusiasm as he shifts. His cock is hard and flushed, his nipples pink and pert from the cold, and he’s wearing that shy expression he always has before he truly gets into it. You might be drooling.

It’s hard to tell if he’s teasing you or if he’s warming himself up when he runs his hand down his chest and across his stomach painfully slow. Your breath catches in your throat when he finally wraps a hand around his cock, deliberate as he spreads a bead of precome from his tip down with his thumb.

His teeth sink into his lip on the first stroke, cheeks darkening while his eyebrows scrunch inwards. He watches you watch him, and one corner of his mouth ticks upwards while he spreads his knees that much more and arches his back.

Stage fright gone, Sam’s putting on a show now, and god do you ever watch. You lose yourself in it—in the way his abs tighten and his breath puffs out intermittently like he might’ve moaned in another situation. His head falls back on his shoulders, eyes screwed shut, until finally he tightens his hand around the base of his cock and looks at you with pure desperation.

“Please,” his voice is hoarse when he whispers, and he’s squirming. For just a second you think you should tell him no, keep going, because you’re so into watching him you want to see his come paint his beautiful stomach. But then he’s blinking at you, big blue eyes pleading. “Baby?” His voice cracks when he prods for a response, and you decide he should be put out of his misery.

“Remember to be qui—“ Sam cuts you off in a bruising kiss. He doesn’t waste a second, licking into your mouth while he fumbles between your legs, rucking up the nightgown in the process.

“Quiet,” he pants while he rips the hem up past your breasts, leaving you suddenly cold and exposed, save the places where his fingers trail blazing paths towards your cunt. “Quiet, uh huh, I’ll be so—quiet—“ he nods into your skin, latching his mouth to your neck and sucking while he slips a finger into your eager cunt.

Sam’s fingers are expert, long and dexterous and callused from years of playing the guitar, and you’re the one struggling not to make any noise now while he fingers you open for him. Every glance of his fingers has your thighs twitching and you biting back little wanton moans.

“Shit, I can’t,” Sam withdraws his fingers after barely a minute, still managing a throaty murmur, “I’m so sorry, fuck, I just can’t wait. You’re so goddamn wet.”

And then he’s lining himself up and thrusting into you slowly. Inching in while he huffs air through his clenched teeth. You can tell he’s really trying to hold himself back, to be gentle, but then his forehead drops to your shoulder and he looses a high whine when his hips snap all the way forward seemingly against his volition.

You freeze, heart hammering in your chest as you hold him still and listen for any sounds that somebody in the house has woken up. Sam’s doing his best, but he’s gyrating against your cunt frivolously and begging against your chest.

“Just couldn’t help it, I’m sorry. Sorry, please baby,” he’s much quieter in his whisper now, “you just felt better— ah —than I expected—please let me move, I’ll be good I swear.”

After another moment of nothing, you finally relax your grip, and Sam wastes no time, fucking into you so hard and fast your eyes roll back in your head.

“Thank you baby— nngh —thank you,” the words are spoken against your breasts as he presses his mouth to them, sucking and nipping the skin while he humps you like an animal in heat. “Best Winter Star gift ever, swear. Thank you, oh God.”

You’re actually surprised when his thumb finds its way to your clit. Sam’s one track minded on his best days, and you would’ve thought he’d be too overwhelmed to even think of it.

“Wanna— hah —feel you come. Can you come on my cock baby?”

You go to say yes, you’re right there, and a too loud moan slips from your chest instead when he slams right into your g-spot. Sam’s free hand closes over your mouth, eyes wide and hips stuttering as he tries and fails to still to a stop.

He either doesn’t give a fuck or can’t bring himself to slow down anymore, because a moment later he’s back to absolutely railing you, making little tiny grunting whines as he does his best to keep himself quiet. “Gonna come,” he manages, strained, and that’s what finishes you.

You ride wave after wave of delicious white heat as Sam stuffs you with his come, shaking and muffling himself against your skin. He doesn’t stop thrusting, greedy and prolonging your mutual pleasure as long as he can before he collapses onto you, limp.

When you finally get your bearings back you take stock of the situation: Sam draped over you, cock still inside, nightgown around your armpits, bruises beginning to purple in the places where Sam used you as his silencer. A ripple of perverse arousal trickles through your overstimulated body at the sheer wrongness of it all, and you twitch.

That’s enough to rouse Sam, who kisses your cheek and pulls out of you, lovingly tucking the nightgown back down to your ankles and pulling up the blanket before snuggling into your side.

When you two wake, you’re horrified to find come staining the inside of the nice garment. Sam sees it over your shoulder while you��re changing and packing, and he tugs you close to him, purring into your ear, “I want you to wear that again when we get home tonight. I’m not finished ruining it.”

[cinhomi]

Hear me out like dilf!Felix agenda or Minho as your teacher IDK-. My friend recently told me about the move Miller’s girl coming out soon and I’ve been thinking about just Minho as your teacher lmao.IDK HE WOULD BE SUCH A STONIC DUDE BUT LIKE WHILE YOU GUYS ARE ALONE HE WOULD BE JSJSJSJS

(May I be 🎀 anon jsjsjsj)

DILF FELIX 😵‍💫 TEACHER MINHO 😵‍💫 I want to caress your face and boop your nose. HOW CAN I FIT BOTH IN ONE ASK THAT WOULD BE 5K WORDSー I'll focus on teacher Minho but PLEASE come back with dilf Felix BECAUSE I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABOUT HIM TOO OMG

teacher Lee Minho who is known to be this scary, strict man that has all kinds of stories about him being told from student to student in the corridors since he's very reservate and mysterious. he dresses formally, with cool and natural toned dress shirts, vests, ties and blazers. his pants always hug his tighs a little bit too tight when he rests on the border of his desk.

teacher... call him professor. professor Lee. he checks his expensive gold watch from time to time, and accurately displays his book, agenda and pen in a precise order. most students don't know they end up on the floor when he clears the surface for you to sit - or lay - on the polished wooden surface. he likes to be tidy and on time... so when he starts to be late to put down some papers in the teachers' room, or when he has to meet a colleague with his hair disheveled and his tie loose, well, it's only natural to be suspicious. but he's a serious man. he must have some trouble in his life... some trouble that he enjoys a bit too much.

professor Lee Minho who tilts his head to the side the first time he sees you, a puzzled expression on his face because he doesn't understand how someone so gorgeous, sweet and beautiful like you could exist. he doesn't realize it, but now when he's having a lesson in your class it seems like he's explaining things only to you, his gaze fixed on your shiny eyes that look directly into his, on your tempting lips, it drops a bit lower where he can see your naked legs cross under a flimsy skirt. he often comes close to your desk and looks carefully at your calligraphy, or to be precise, at your fingers holding the pen. he slowly starts wondering how'd they look wrapped around him.

he's known for being the most observant and smart professor of the institute so you can't really fool him, it's so obvious your cute little panties get wet when he smiles whenever you know the answer to one of his tricky questions, when he rests a hand on the smaller of your back when he has to pass beside you in the corridors, when he praises you for doing so good on his subject. everyone is starting to think he's got a preference... and it's so damn true. he doesn't alter your score, it really is admirable, your talent on his subject, but you're the only one he's never scolded or insulted somehow.

you're his perfect pupil, he holds you on the palm of his hand. it's not the first time he has students trying to fall into his favour, seduce him, but you... you don't do it on purpose, he has enough experience to know that. yes, you may stay up late to have the best score with him and him only, but you are so natural and obvious with your feelings, it's adorable.

he wants you all to himself.

professor Lee Minho who, after few months of seeing each other almost everyday, asks you if you want to stay a bit more after your classes so he can give you private lessons to go a bit more in depth with whatever topic you're studying at the moment. at first it really is like this, him sitting on his comfy, soft chair and you beside him on the chipped and hard one, swallowing your whimpers whenever your knees touch. oh you're so cute. you take coffees together, he brings you nice treats from the café he goes to every morning, after two weeks he promises to eat you out if all of your answers are correct. but don't worry, before making such promise he wooed you respectfully, with manners, like a true gentleman. before unbottoning your delicate shirt to fondle with your breasts to help you concentrate he did flirt with you to the point you had to get up and splash your face with cold water.

he loves it when you call him "Mr. Lee" in public, but when he locks the classroom he becomes "Min" or sometimes "Sir", or, other times, "Master". he even goes through the trouble of taking you to his place sometimes. Minho is a good cook, but you never eat much in those occasions.

he loves it when before starting the day you subtly give him your lacy panties and he has to sneak them in the pocket of his blazer. he can't help that mischievolous smirk from forming on his lips, knowing your perfect pussy is bare and ready for him if he wants to. and nothing will stop him from avidly taking the soft fabric to inhale your scent while palming his growing bulge everytime he's alone.

Mr. Lee also loves when he's correcting his students' works and you study while sitting on his lap, his lenght buried deep inside you. he likes to pat your head when you do a good job, but he also makes you choke on his cock if what you did doesn't please him at all.

professor Lee Minho that notices you scoff and sigh and pout when another student flirts with him, so when you two meet later he makes sure to fuck you like the good girl you are for him. he treats you so well, how can you be jealous? it's so, so obvious he's obsessed with you.

I see prof. Lee making you bend down his desk, his grip tight on your hips, under your skirt that jumps back and foward from his slow but powerful thrusts and your panties moved to the side. he's bending over your back, with his breath fanning on your neck, his lovely praises going straight to your throbbing core. I see prof. Lee making you sit on his pompous chair as he kneels for you and spreads your legs to dive his head in between them. I see prof. Minho using a ruler to tease your clit and your asscheeks. I see prof. Minho rolling his eyes in pure bliss as you ride him in the bathroom.

mmh... he eventually admits to himself that he fell for his student and has to switch schools to be able to take you out on week-end dates <3

I will write more about.

[cozymoko]

Let us test your patience now! How about ROMANTIC yandere headcannon or fic for our mutual fav kaname with a human day class darling? Cucu- 🌕 anon

YAN. KANAME KURAN WITH DAY CLASS S/O

Note: Lmaooo. PS: writers block is killing me. o(╥﹏╥)

Pairing: Kaname Kuran x GN! Human s/o

WARNING(S): Yandere themes, manipulation, bad writing

Want more? → Vampire Knight Masterlist

Being his partner, you're destined to live a lavish lifestyle. Gifts have become an everyday occurrence between the two of you. It's his way of leaving his mark on you, gifting you with jewels and pricey trinkets, though he'd never tell you that. When noticing him with a matching one of his own, your relationship should be clear as day.

St. Xocolatl's Day was something he cared little about prior to his relationship with you. However, it was somewhat of an obligation to attend (to get to his classes). As he exited the gates, his eyes were quick to find you as they'd always have been. You stood near the end of his line, patiently waiting your turn. Little did you know, that was enough to make his heart swoon.

You were a bit reluctant to throw out the chocolates. This day came only once a year and you wished to eat to your heart's content. The variety of chocolates wrapped in colorful, florescencent plastics that were just as eye-catching as you'd expected. But from the looks of it, you wouldn't get to try any.

“Do these hold some importance to you?”

If you had not been his lover, you would've found it to be a genuine question. But the hint of dismay swimming in his usually calm gaze was a dead give away. He looked like a kicked puppy, an expression that was strictly reserved for your eyes. You were quick to shake away his worries, pushing the wrapped goods into his open arms.

The only one that remainded was his own, marked with such intricate and neat calligraphy that only he was capable of.

~~~ To my dearest, {Name}, whom I miss terribly. ♡

Every. Aching. Moment

Kaname is not one to shy away from his feelings, especially the ones involving you. The relationship you share is ambiguous, to say the least. The adoration and infatuation in his gaze are evident, and yet he's willing to keep it a secret for the sake of your reputation. Frankly, he's quite the selfish man, and at times he can't help but act rashly when it involves you.

The Pureblood wants to possess you and everything you are. He can hardly keep his hands off you as is, and the scarce amount of time you spend together only fuels his cravings. But with a little interference, I'm sure he could pull some strings. He is a Kuran after all, what can't he do for you?

Whether he wants to admit it or not, humans are very fragile beings. If he so chose to, he could slaughter thousands with just a mere snap of his fingers. At times, he wishes to do just that. After all, you had always been surrounded by other morals who practically jumped at the opportunity to suck away your time — Leeches, that's all they are. Blood-sucking leeches (hypocrite).

It's a shame he can't stay with you for the entirety of the day. During your absence, he's grown rather irritable with those beneath him. “Sharing you,” or rather your time, is and shall remain one of his least favorite pastimes. Truthfully, the thought of turning you into a vampire has crossed his mind more times than he'd care to admit.

“It's been quite some time since our last interaction. Are you avoiding me, {Name}?” His words came out as a feeble whisper, with how close he was to you, that was more than enough. “You've been spending far too much time with those in the day class and frankly, I've grown a bit jealous.” His warm breath grazed the shell of your ear as he gently rested his hand along the small of your back.

“Can't I be a little selfish? Just this once.”

Your relationship is bound to spark the interest of the aristocrats roaming the night class. It's not everyday they see the Great Kaname Kuran grow so soft for a mere human. Only a fool wouldn't be able to see how tightly you have him wrapped around your finger. But the real question is why?

Oh what a shame, no one will truly understand why. Those who've tried weren't fortunate enough to make it back. Their death being by the hand of a Pureblood who are they to say anything? In their eyes, your situation remains an anamoly regarding the many faces of Kaname Kuran. Though it seems he's not too keen on playing nice when you're involved.

An immortal life can be a blessing and a curse. Even so, it happened to be one thing Kaname wouldn't wish to liveanything. You've spoiled him far too much, at this rate you'll be a vampire in no time!