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peachpitfics · 6 months ago

Text

Don't Blame Me

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Daphne Bridgerton is your closest childhood friend, her eldest brother, Anthony, is the love of your life. After avoiding each other for years, you both finally lose control.

Length: 3.2k

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Unprotected sex, sex in public, penetrative vaginal sex, orgasm, 'caught in the act' vibes, best friends brother.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Like many other close family friends of the Bridgerton’s, their home was always a beacon of safety and comfort, especially for you. You were Daphne Bridgerton’s first friend, and you had remained close well into adulthood, she wrote to you still from her new life with the Duke. Unfortunately, Daphne would not be able to meet you in Mayfair this season, the Bridgerton’s playing host while your mother and father were out of the country. It was your third year out; you had a few hopeful matches in mind, not realizing how difficult the season might be with unobtainable love staring you in the face.

“We are so glad to have you this year, y/n. It has been so long since we have seen you around the Ton” Violet Bridgerton was as much your mother as your own.

“Father’s responsibilities have been consuming these past few years. Mother and I hardly made it to the season last year. I am glad to be here, spending some time in familiar places” You smiled, linking arms with her as she escorted you to the ballroom. Your parents had entrusted your match to you, however, had requested the viscountess to keep a watchful eye.

Waltzing into the drawing room, just like old times, Benedict and Colin, discarding their playing cards, exclaimed with joy, rushing to greet you as if a long-lost sibling had returned. There was nothing as lonely as being an only child, deep in the countryside. Eloise was fretting in the corner, fingers agitated, tapping the outside of a book. This was to be her coming out year.

Anthony entered from the far side door, his feet skidding to a halt at the sight of you.

“You arrived” Anthony said flatly, turning on the ball of his foot, and exiting as quickly as he had come in. Embarrassed, you frowned, smiling chastely praying no one would notice his strange behaviour. It had been a year since you had last seen each other.

“I apologise, he is so bizarre in the mornings lately” Violet squeezed your shoulders, leading you over to a table laden with treats. Sitting on the settee with Hyacinth and Eloise, eating small cakes and discussing the books being read amongst you were some of the precious things you missed about living in the city.

In an unsuspicious amount of time, you excused yourself from company to find the washroom. Anthony stood outside the drawing room, leaning against the wall, unblinking and mind drifting elsewhere. You ignored each other walking past, which felt a lot like tiny shards of glass embedding into your heart. Locking yourself in the washroom, trying desperately to keep tears at bay, you looked into the mirror and told yourself it did not matter. You were going to find love this year, somewhere else.

When you opened the door, Anthony had moved, he was nearly pressed against the door, waiting for you to come out. He stuffed himself into the washroom with you, closing the door as silently as he could.

“Why are you here?” He asked. He looked different from a year ago, he had changed quite a lot more than you were expecting. He had shortened his hair and filled out into his body. His hands looked the same, the same ring on that damned finger, flexing in distress and awkward guilt.

“It is the beginning of the social season. I am here to find a husband.” You stated plainly.

“A husband?” He scoffed, charming disdain painted across his face.

“Yes, it is what young ladies do in polite society. Was that unclear?” You asked. Your lack of facial expression and tone seemed to startle him, he had no idea what you were thinking.

“Why are you acting this way?” Anthony stuttered forward, getting uncomfortably close.

With the melancholic drop of your shoulders, and a heavy exhale, you pushed past Anthony and made your way back to the drawing room. It was so like him to put the narrative back on you. Anthony should have asked himself why he was acting this way – after all, it was he who decided not to court you. It was he who decided to kiss you beside the carriage that night. It was he who decided the two of you should not speak any longer. It was he who broke your heart.

The remainder of the evening was free of Anthony, filled with laughter at the dining room table over a delectable dinner. The Bridgerton’s sense of family was everything to you – even if Gregory and Hyacinth were bickering for most of the meal, it still felt as it was meant to. Violet showed you to the guest room, it had not changed much over the years, it smelled the very same.

“I am sorry Anthony could not join us for dinner” Violet’s voice echoed with somber searching. Perhaps she had heard the two of you in the washroom?

“Do not be,” You said quickly, “His time is his own, he does not owe me anything” Violet bowed her head, words fighting against her lips. She instead pursed them into a smile and closed the door behind her. Those shards of glass moved again, every second in this house, nausea held you hostage, terrified of running into him in the halls.

Daphne was the only other person alive who knew what had happened between Anthony and yourself. She had been disappointed in him, angry with the way he had handled everything. While she promised there would never be a change to your friendship, it had never really been the same. You tossed and turned far longer than normal; your mind flooded with images of the past. Thrusting yourself out of bed, it was clear you were not going to be sleeping tonight, you decided that a distraction may be best. In your nightgown, candle in hand, you remembered your way to the study.

The study was clear of any inhabitants, it was tidy, and the few cases of books loomed high over you, reaching the ceiling. Nothing in the Bridgerton house seemed to change, except Anthony, and it was perpetually for the worse in your opinion. You selected a book randomly from the nearest shelf and perched yourself on the seat closest to the window, looking out over the square. Lounging sleepily, you read in the low candlelight, only disturbed by the creaking of the door, an unexpected sound, making you jolt.

“I knew you’d be in here” Anthony said softly, entering the room with caution as your emotionless face watched him. “You were always in here when we were children. No one could ever find you” His smile was humorless.

“You did” You waited before responding, wondering why he was here, speaking with you, “Why are you here, right now, Anthony?” You demanded.

Anthony moved to the seat across from yours, sitting gingerly, holding eye contact in the hopes you would not tell him to leave. You allowed him to sit, his hands folded in front of him.

“I don’t know” Anthony rubbed desperately at his forehead, “I just got up, and felt myself pulled here, some unknown force, dragging me to you” Anthony admitted. You had always been attracted to each other, always gravitating towards one another.

“I did not choose to come here; my mother asked a favor of yours. I would never have chosen to be this close to you. You destroyed me, Anthony” Tears welled to your eyes, “We cannot be near each other – you made that it very clear, you took what you wanted of me, and cast me aside” Hands pressed down on your knees, you pushed off, making for the closest exit. Anthony dashed around in front of you, placing his body between you and the door for the second time today.

“Goodnight, Viscount Bridgerton” You curtsied formally, hoping the rules of social engagement were enough for this man to understand the dangerous position he was putting both of you in, yet again.

Anthony’s hand trembled, reaching out, taking yours into his. His fingers tangled between yours, his grip strengthening when he realized you were not pulling away. His thumb affectionately circling the skin on wrist, the sound of his swallowing resounding across the empty room, his anxious tongue flicking over his lips. If anything was clear, it was the internal battle that seemed to be always happening inside Anthony’s mind.

His touch, the supreme legacy of your existence. His unsteady breath, captivating your common sense. The thrilling space between you slowly closing, heads bobbing forward as if intoxicated and unable to control oneself, meeting together in the middle in an exhilarating kiss, just like you had remembered it.

His lips were shamelessly enthusiastic, as if made for this very purpose, just for you. His forceful hands weaved into your loose hair, pulling you deeper into every kiss. You were overcome, that old bold, need for him to find its way out of the labyrinth you had designed for it. Anthony’s fingers pressed to your hips, his teeth nipped eagerly at the skin on your neck, softs sighs of delight followed.

It was when his hand moved sensually to your breast that you broke free of the enchanting dance you had found yourself in so many times before with him. Your body did not reflect the same pleasures, you took his hands from your body and laid them at his sides, and stood tall and stepped back.

“I am here to secure a husband, for my future” Tears found their way back to you.

“Y/n…” Anthony shook his head, stepping forward, trying to hold onto you again.

“If you cannot give me what I seek, please, stop hunting me down. I want a life with you, Anthony. I will love you until my dying breath… But you, you will never grow up” You said finitely, again, pushing your way past him and fleeing back to your room.

Most of the next day was spent in tired indifference, you remained in your room, preparing for the first ball of the season. Tears had stained your pillow the remainder of the night, each knock at the door struck a chord of hope in your heart, wishing for Anthony.

Eloise and Violet helped you into your gown, the ladies’ maids fixing your hair and face. Violet ran a motherly thumb under your puffy eye, her compassionate heart shining through her eyes and tender smile. You gave a little nod, knowing there was never anything you could hide from her – she knew everyone in the Bridgerton house better than she let on.

The Viscounts escorted Eloise into Lady Danbury’s estate, greeting the Queen and Lady Danbury ahead of you. Violet linked arms with you in solidarity, following Anthonys actions and proceeding into the ball.

“Who will you be accepting dances from this evening?” The Viscountess asked quietly.

“I am not restricting myself to names, I will dance with any eligible man who asks” You answered politely.

Violet gave your forearm a squeeze, “That is very sensible” She nodded, releasing you, sending you off into the lion’s den. You met up with Eloise, taking a short turn about the room to appear social, greeting the other young ladies who you’d met years previous. There were several older men who seemed to take an interest in you as you moved about the room with your friend. No one really stood out to you, no true love at first sight, much to your dismay.

Retiring to the wall with a glass of lemonade in hand, you watched the gorgeous young women excited to dance with suitors and recalled how that was never an experience you had.

Soon enough, one of the suitors who had shown interest in a season previous approached, positioning himself next to you. Lord Harlan Grahame was intelligent, considerate, and not entirely horrible to look at.

“Lord Grahame” You curtsied, a familiar smile finding its way back onto your face.

“Miss y/n, I do hope your mother and father are quite well” He remarked, having known them for many years now, he had noticed their absence.

“They are in abroad, my father has business to conduct in Greece and my mother only saw fit to tend to him during this time” You explained, “I am being hosted by the Bridgerton family. How is your family?” You asked in politeness.

“Fantastic, Mother has moved herself to the country and hopes to get yet another dog soon” He laughed, clearly happy to be free of her in his home. Laughing along with him, you spied Anthony, discreetly looking on from across the ballroom. The conversation between yourself and Lord Grahame was easy and hardly uncomfortable. He was charismatic enough that you could see yourself becoming quite fond of each other in no time at all. He made small jokes at no one’s expense, he offered refreshments frequently and complimented you in kindness. You could see and accept a perfectly happy future with the Lord.

Across the ballroom, sheer asperity brewed live in Anthonys eyes for all to see. He was known to have a temper amongst society. With a final twitch of his left eye, Anthony’s feet picked up under him, carrying him in your direction. Violet watched on, fear and embarrassment ready and willing in her chest.

“I apologise” You mumbled preemptively to Lord Grahame as Anthony arrived to interrupt your conversation.

“Miss y/n, may I have this dance?” Anthonys eyes were terrifying, filled with rage and jealousy. You paused, contemplating antagonizing him, forcing his hand, backing him into a corner. But relinquished, excusing yourself from Lord Grahames company, taking Anthony’s hand as he swept you off to the dancefloor.

You did not meet his eye, your nails dug into the skin on his hand in resentment. You said nothing to each other for the first several minutes of the dance.

“You cannot marry him” Anthony muttered in quiet, helpless indignation.

Giving him a great look of disbelief, “Who are you to tell me who I can marry? I do not answer to you, Viscount” You growled into his ear as he pulled you in tighter.

Anthony finished the dance, bowing to you, holding onto one of your hands with unbelievable force. He walked swiftly from the dance floor, conspicuously pulling you along behind him, and into a room down the hall.

“You cannot blame me for acting this way!” He yelled, “If I have to see you speak to another man this season, if I have to witness another man watch as you walk by – You have driven me to the brink of insanity” He heaved, frantic energy filling his body.

“What would you have me do? Spend my life in loneliness, a Spinster? Would that be convenient to you, Anthony?” You parried.

His hands ran through his hair stressfully, at a loss for words, unable to express himself in the way he wanted. His intention had not been to yell when he sequestered you away to this side room.

“I was fine! You left Mayfair, and I was well. Now, here you are – and God help me, I am intoxicated every second we are in the same room. Your presence is the most decadent drug, forcibly hypnotizing me. I am powerless to you” Anthonys words were like honey, carried on the end of a bee sting.

“You made your choice!” You yelled back at him, hoping the music was loud enough outside.

“I was young, y/n! I made the wrong choice!” He retorted, his words shaking, and unfiltered for the first time in a long time.

There was a second of unblinking silence between you before magnetic energy pulled you into each other, deranged nipping at each other’s lips ensued. Hands grabbed and grasped at skin and hair, trying to force your beings into one person. There was a white-hot craze that seemed to come over the both of you, and you had felt it before, a few times.

Anthony sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, biting and kissing in a spontaneous fire.

“Someone will hear” You moaned into his ear, as his teeth moved their way down your neck. Anthony did not seem to care, his mouth on your chest, fondling and sucking on your breasts, still sitting pertly in your dress. He was simply uncontrollable, his behaviour now inherently superior compared to when he had been speaking.

Anthony maneuvered your body across the room, hands comfortably held in places of control, his left on your lower back, his right splayed across your throat like the prettiest necklace. You reached the door, his hands twisting your hips to face it. Your palms met the wood, bracing as Anthony bent you slightly, kicking your feet apart with his. Anthony hiked up your gown, undoing his pants in the same instant and buried himself inside of you.

You mouth gaped silently, aghast at the entire situation, but thanking God above for the opportunity.

“Oh my god,” Anthony gnarled into your ear from behind, “Just like I remember it” He moaned, sinking deeper and deeper it felt like. Every thrust led with intense and vicious primality, his hands wrapped around each of your upper arms, for leverage. He was right, it was just how you remembered – overwhelming, devastating, unforgettable. You had thought about your secret affair with Anthony every day since you had moved away. The pleasure Anthony elicited from you sent you into a familiar haze, deep and indefensible. Every movement, every sound from him made you feel greedy, always wanting just a little more.

The way he pounded into your smaller frame rattled the wooden door you were leaning on. “Anthony! They are going to hear!” You squealed in a whisper back to him.

“Let them” He panted, “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I’m fucking my future wife” Anthony’s hand found its way into your hair, pulling your back sharply for a profound, wet kiss. Anthonys fingers sunk into the flesh of your hip, painfully pleasant as his nails clambered for an anchor. Your body arched back involuntarily, Anthony powering through fast, harsh thrusts as he found his inevitable end, placing sloppy kisses on your shoulder as he slowly finished moving inside of you.

You both leaned on the door in exhaustion, bodies heaving in unison. Anthony placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, stepping backwards and rebuttoning his breeches, fixing your dress behind you. You turned to face him slowly, knowing he could very well go back on every word he had said not moments before.

The softest smile enriched his face, his eyes lit in such a way that you had never seen them. His arm dashed out, pulling you into a grinning embrace, smooching dear kisses upon your lips.

“Loving you causes me delirium, y/n” He nipped at your nose, your foreheads planted together, eyes closed in tranquility.

As you stood, the doorknob gently turned and Violet Bridgerton slid her head through the gap, assumingly checking on the both of you; you had been in here for a little while longer than societally acceptable for two young single people.

Her hand flew over her heart, “Oh thank God!” She exclaimed, smiling ear to ear, a sense of pride glistened in her eyes.

“I cannot wait to write Daphne” The viscountess cheered quietly, finding it hard to contain her excitement. “I knew that you would find each other” She chuffed, slipping out, closing the door. Your foreheads knocked together again, never having a minutes peace in such a large family – you stood there a moment longer, relishing such a long awaited and monumental confession of your love.

-------------------------------

tag list: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr //

If you would like to be tagged in Bridgerton fics, please let me know!

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton oneshot #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x fem!reader #x reader #x fem!reader #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton smut #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton smut #fanficiton

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redbullgirly · 10 months ago

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Million Dollar Man [LS18 smau]

Lance Stroll x reader [social media au]

Masterlist

Summary: Lance's girlfriend isn't afraid to show how much her boyfriend loves and spoils her. Unfortunately, "fans" seem to think she's a gold digger. But who would Lance and Y/N bee if they just let it slide?

Warnings: A lot of hate towards the reader by online trolls and just toxic fans, at the end she and Lance shuts them up but if you're not in the right head-space to read this, then please don't.

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by lance_stroll, fernandoalo_oficial, astonmartin and 192,344 others

tagged: astonmartin and lance_stroll

yourusername life lately... how about you? 🍰💐

view all 3209 comments

user1 more like: life lately 💸💸💸

user2 LOL

lance_stroll life lately has been great ❤️

liked by the author

user3 Lance don't worry we're going to save you!!

user4 our guy is lyinggggg i can feel it

user5 Oh my god let them live a happy life you trolls🤦‍♀️

user6 how can you know it's happy when she clearly uses him for money?🤨

user5 And how can you know it's not? Besides I don't think she uses him for anything🤷‍♀️

user4 then your just as naive as him user5 lol

user7 she's so classy a love it!😻

user8 Can she even drive or she just wanted to take a photo in his car?

fernandoalo_oficial You are slaying Queen!😉

fernandoalo_oficial Did I do it correctly yourusername?

yourusername it's great nando, just please never use that emoji again and you'll be ready do graduate from my gen-z university!

fernandoalo_oficial Damn it I knew all you use these days is this one: 💀

yourusername 💀

user9 OKAY I DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING ANYONE SAYS ABOUT HER AND LANCE CAUSE I LOVE Y/N AND NANDO INTERACTIONS MORE THAN MY OWN LIFE!!

user10 i'm convinced she holds both aston drivers hostage in her basement and is forcing them to comment on her posts

user11 It's probably not even her own basement but Lance's😭

user12 nah she ain't even that pretty

user13 omg no way this post is the way I found out lance mf stroll has a girlfriend?🤠

user14 GIRL you have so much lore to catch up on

user15 Yeah welcome to the worst wag ever fandom xd

user13 wait I'm so confused... why do we hate her???

user14 bc she's basically a gold digger, like from the moment her and lance started dating she's been posting only about shopping and showing off herself and her bf's money

user12 plus she ugly af

user15 Yeah and there are rumors on twitter about her being really mean to everyone and that the whole paddock hates her and stuff...

user13 okay I get that but tbh we can't believe everything that's on f1 twitter

user14 idc she's a bitch even without the rumors

user15 I can tell Y/N is trying so hard to have the rich girly aesthetic... it's actually embarrassing😂

astonmartin Wow you have a great car right there😍

user16 more like her sugar daddy lance has it lol XD

user17 guys be fr if you had a rich boy you'd be spending his money too!!!

twitter

yourusername and lance_stroll posted on instagram stories

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by estabanocon, lance_stroll, astonmartinf1 and 206,948 others

tagged: astonmartinf1 and lance_stroll

yourusername thank you spa for having me! what a race, congrats to my favourite driver lance_stroll on p9 & his teammate fernandoalo_oficial on p5! great team work, hope to see you on another grand prix in the future astonmartinf1 💚🏆

view all 4022 comments

astonmartinf1 we hope to see you on another grand prix as well Y/N!🤩

liked by the author

user1 you don't have to lie admin, it's waste of money on her... better give the paddock pass to someone else

astonmartinf1 well, we definitely won't give it to you user1, so no need to worry about it 😙

user2 daaaamn, the admin is coming for y'all haters

user3 Of course she had to wear the racing suit... c'mon that's so embarrassing🙄

user4 actually it's pretty normal, I'm pretty sure Max's gf also wore his racing suit at some point

user3 Yeah but I at least like and respect Kelly... Y/N is a horrible gold digger

user4 well then I'm pretty sure it's your problem, not hers🤷‍♀️

user5 girl stop pretending you care about racing we all know you do it just for pr and cash xdd

user6 Honestly I'm not a Lance Stroll fan, but he deserves someone better than her...

lance_stroll Thank you to my favourite wag! 🥳❤️

yourusername love you baby!!!💞

user7 favourite wag😂 good joke😂😂

user8 am I the only one who finds their interaction cute??

user9 yeah you are user8... like just look at it, it's so forced... wouldn't be surprising if their whole relationship was fake

user10 You can hate on her all you want, but she's actually gorgeous in the third pic😻

user11 YUUUCCKK🤮🤮🤮

user12 you see I would be fine with this post if she didn't have to show off the aston martin car again!!!

user13 Hey did you notice she tagged Nando in the caption and he didn't reply to her? I call it ✨karma✨ lol

user14 maybe he escaped from her basement😭

user15 💚💚

user16 sorry but I can't help it. There's just something fishy about Y/N and I can't bring myself to like her at all

user17 Guys who is this girl and why does she get more hate in her comments than hailey bieber??💀

user18 I hate how she makes the whole Grand Prix about herself

user19 no but fr... like honey, idc about you and your favourite driveeer

user20 Tf?? She literally called LANCE her favourite driver how is that about her... you haters are so dumb🤦‍♀️

user21 I bet she read the comments on twitter about how she's bad gf for not going to any races and decided to fix her image by this XD

user19 lmfao didn't probably work the way she hoped

messages between Y/N and Lance

lance_stroll posted on instagram

liked by yourusername, sebastianvettel, f1 and 330,219 others

tagged: yourusername

lance_stroll As some of you now, I am not very active on social media. Today I'm making an exception for Y/N, my lovely girlfriend I've been dating for almost a year now. She is one of the greatest, most kind, caring and selfless people I know. I don't know where the idea of our relationship being unhappy, one-sided or even insincere came from, but I would like to make it very clear once and for all that these assumptions are as far from the truth as they can be.

In my life, I experienced a lot of hateful comments and reactions myself. It is not something I wish anyone should have to go through and it's disgusting. I love Y/N with all my heart and I hope that one day, she'll make me the happiest man alive and allows me to marry her, build a family together. No one will ever again speak about her in an inappropriate way, or they'll be blocked and possibly face legal actions taken agains them. I am very serious about this.

Y/N, I'm not afraid to call you the love of my life. I never want to see you cry because of some meaningless hater. Love you to the moon and back, sweetheart ❤️

view all 4823 comments

user1 It's just so heartbreaking how Lance himself had to go through so many waves of hate because of his dad and now he had to watch Y/N go through it too...😓

yourusername love you to the moon and back too lance!!!💖

lance_stroll Wouldn't have it any other way honey!😌

user2 you know it's serious when sebastianvettel shows up

astonmartinf1 once the it couple, always the it couple!💚 proud to say we were never a hater😘

user3 i still think it's fake

fernandoalo_oficial and I think you are fake🤪

user4 LMAO nando come and get the haters lets goooo

user5 That's how you shut them up xd

fernandoalo_oficial how do you children say it? I AM LANCEY/N DEFENDER

user4 yeah yeah nando exactly that or you can say your a lancey/n truther

liked by fernandoalo_oficial

user5 omg I can't believe I just had online conversation with THE Fernando Alonso😭

user4 GIRL ME TOO AND HE EVEN LIKED MY COMMENT😭😭

f1 What a beautiful couple you are!🙌 Hope to see you in the paddock after summer break!😏

user6 "they'll be blocked and possibly face legal actions taken agains them" daaammmnn man is standing on business here

user7 Tbh I never understood why y'all hated on her sm she's literally so beautiful and seems kind as well🤷‍♀️

lilymhe pretty giiiirl

lance_stroll I couldn't agree more!❤️

yourusername oh stop you two I'm blushing

user8 Can we take a moment to appreciate how beautifully the caption is written?🥹 Lance really has some poetic talent!

liked by yourusername

user9 aaah she's still a gold digger and he's too blind to see it😂

user10 Yeah she probably charmed him in bed or sm

user11 Ohh user9 and user10... I wonder how it feels to know Lance and probably some other drivers hate you🫢

chloestroll My brother and my future sister-in-law!🥰

liked by the author and yourusername

yourusername 🥰🥰

user12 im actually so happy to see y/n replying to some of the comments and just being active without so much hate on her now!!!

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by lance_stroll, kellypiquet, fernandoalo_oficial and 299,102 others

tagged: lance_stroll and dior

yourusername they say if he wanted to he would... I say he wants to so he does 🌹❤️

comments have been limited

lilymhe she ate you jealous people up with that caption

liked by lance_stroll and fernandoalo_oficial

lilymhe also alex_albon me when??

dior Wow!❤️‍🔥

lance_stroll That's what real men do instead of trolling others on the internet.

yourusername daaammn baby

lance_stroll What? I'm just stating facts 😌

kellypiquet shopping trip to Paris when?😍

yourusername anytime you want!!!💕

astonmartinf1 So lucky to (basically) have you on our team💚

fernandoalo_oficial I call that a slay admin

astonmartinf1 ...should I tell him slay is kinda out dated??

yourusername aaah let him have his moment

fernandoalo_oficial WHAT?! YOU TRAITORS I THOUGH I WAS GEN-Z APPROVED

yourusername 🫢

THE END

Author's note: I hope you liked my first ever social media au story! I'll be glad for every feedback, comment, like, reblog and everything! You can definitely send me asks and requests for another smau's and even 'normal' fanfictions. Have a great day!

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girlsworldillusion · 9 months ago

Text

CLAIM - by Aemond Targaryen

+18 (seriously, no minors)

author's note: my first time writing for him, even though I've been in the fandom for a while now. (I hope this isn't the only one).

There you go, Aemond thinks with some bitterness.

Bright, innocent, pure. Tempting in annoying ways. Certainly a cute little thing to look at, though.

Unfortunately, he's not the only one who noticed this.

A warm, tingly ball curls in his stomach the more he watches you and your pathetic excuse for a partner during the waltz. Every delicate twirl you make around the grand ballroom sends shivers down his spine. The flushed dust high on your cheeks leaves his throat dry. The gentle smile you offer the Lord who smugly leads you through the dance makes his fist clench so tightly around the wine glass that Aemond is actually surprised he hasn't shattered the thing into a thousand pieces yet.

Aemond is not jealous, however. Aemond doesn't get jealous - being jealous is wanting something someone else has, and he has everything he needs, a lot of enviable things, to be honest. (That's what he tells himself, sipping some wine and sending icy daggers toward the man who insists on holding your waist tighter and tighter).

He's not jealous. He just doesn't like it when others covet what's his - or what should be his.

You, another Lady with a prestigious name. Theoretically there were many like you, it's true. But to Aemond, you always stood out. Unique, special. It is a great inconvenience that others also think this way.

Aemond was trying to be a gentleman here. He was purposely going slow so as not to scare you; innocent walks in the garden, subtle conversations about a book you both recently read, an unassuming invitation for afternoon tea (although he doesn't even like tea).

He was already exhausting the limits of his own patience and he still didn't get any real sign that you reciprocated his interest in you. You are kind and lovely, of course. But that's how you are with everyone around you. This, in itself, is no guarantee of absolutely anything for him.

Aemond was trying to be patient. Gods, he really was. But with each passing day he found himself more and more tormented by thoughts and fantasies about you. His mind is playing tricks on him, pushing the limits of his self-control to the point where he feels like he might snap like a stretched rubber band.

And it is on these nights, when everyone in the Red Keep is already asleep and he is absolutely certain that he is finally alone with his own demons - that he gives in.

He closes the only eye he has left to keep from seeing the shamefully needy descent of his hand beneath the waistband of his sleep pants, only for it to become a fleeting, innocuous thought a few seconds later, because there it is again; that all-encompassing, overwhelming feeling that makes him see stars every time.

He palms his straining erection wet with precum, imagining it's your tiny hand there - or your pretty mouth, your tight pussy. The mere thought of it sends a bolt of pleasure down his spine and makes him part his lips in a husky sigh.

He thinks of you, over and over again; in hurried and repetitive steps, like someone lost in a maze.

Your cheeks flushed, your lips swollen from his kisses, your eyelashes fluttering with pleasure, your sweet voice begging for him...

Aemond, Aemond, Aemond-

Aemond writhes on the sheets, panting, shaking with it, his toes curled against the bed; his hips twitching with each wave of pleasure along his shaft trapped between his fingers. In the waves of euphoria, he throws his other arm over his eye, hides his sapphire and his personal decay like a secret, panting, getting close, so close, fuck, fuck...

It's sweet torture, after all. Spills out onto his own stomach and sheets instead of where he really wants to be.

But he can handle it. All to be a gentleman for you. All to endure the long, agonizing (and embarrassing) wait while you happily accept his invitations to teas and walks in the gardens and entertain him with your witty anecdotes about the latest book you read -

Although you never give him a concrete answer about your feelings for him.

He's trying to hold on.

But you need to pressure him, don't you?

He grits his teeth and narrows his gaze when the man waltzing with you leans down to say something close to your ear.

This isn't new to him, of course.

Aemond is used to having to fight to get what he wants. Nothing really comes easy for him. But there is something about the arduous trajectory of his personal achievements that no one is able to deny.

Once claimed, it's his forever.

That's it, enough of trying to be a gentleman - Aemond hums as he uses the rim of his wine glass to hide the wicked smile tugging at his lips.

"Oh, baby."

He is against you.

Pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass so you can feel how hard his cock is in his pants.

He's laughing in your ear.

Mocking.

"You like that, don't you, girl?" he asks, in a dark whisper after cornering you in one of the castle's corridors, blocking your walk to your chambers. He deposits words laced with malice and honey into his husky voice, whispered against the shell of your ear.

You shudder against him.

He's rubbing himself against you. His cock rubbing explicitly against the curve of your ass, while his fingers squeeze your throat, pulling the back of your head to his shoulder.

"You're mine," he says, his voice full of possessiveness. Like he was on the verge of losing it. He already lost.

You cry out softly, feeling him squeeze your throat again. Harder this time.

"Nobody touches you from now on. Got it?"

He's nuzzling into your hair. Lost in the tickle of your strands on his face, in your sweet smell in his nose.

You shake your head somehow even with his firm grip on your throat and he laughs against your hair.

A low, harsh laugh, a wicked sound that rumbles straight from his throat as he leans down to leave a single kiss on your cheek, intertwining his fingers with yours to give a light tug.

"Good girl."

You open your mouth to say something, anything - an apology, a well-rehearsed argument, words too soft and genuine to compete with the sound of Aemond's hips slamming violently between your thighs - but all all you can do is a low, breathless meow.

"You smell like him," Aemond huffs coldly, though it's more of a breathy grunt.

Maybe there is a certain amount of exaggeration in his words, you don't smell like him. Not really. But the simple memory of that man's hands on your waist and his face close to yours to whisper anything was awakening a dangerous euphoria in Aemond's veins.

He tries hard to at least pretend to be easy, to at least pretend to have some control over the situation. Struggling silently to remain composed, as if he wasn't finally fucking the woman he's wanted for a long time at a brutal pace, as if your scent and your tears weren't permanently staining his sheets right now, as if he wasn't squeaking his teeth to keep from spilling too soon at the mere thought of having permanent physical proof that you were here - right in the bed where he sleeps every night. Aemond feigns an indifference and coldness that are not real.

But he's trying.

He is under the intense watch of your drunken, half-closed gaze, and tries hard not to embarrass himself any more than he already has. He struggles to breathe through his nose, trying not to blink too often; carefree, not a hair out of place. And, in the midst of his personal battle for dignity, he finds some amusement in how you seem to be going insane beneath him; as if you seams were being torn apart with each breath hissed through your teeth.

"I-it was just a dance..."

“He was desperate,” Aemond cuts you off, squeezing you so that your words turn into nothing more than a pathetic groan at the end of the sentence. His fingers dig into your throat, anchoring him as his hips work furiously against yours. His hair is falling to your shoulders and breasts, raising goose bumps on your skin with each thrust of his body against yours. “And that smell is really offending me, girl.”

“I-I, I’m so sorry-” you stutter, hands gripping his wrist as he resists the urge to sink his teeth into the crook of your neck, exactly where everyone can see it tomorrow, “I told him I already had someone and -"

He barely hears your confession before he interrupts. Thick words spilling from his lips as the grip on your body doubles in intensity.

"He thought with that sticky smile that he could just have you? That he would be the one to take your purity? This is for me, he should know. You belong to me. Only for me - only for me." He shakes and sputters to the wild pleasure coursing through his veins, some of his self control slipping as he bows his head and bumps his forehead against your sweaty shoulder, panting heavily into your skin at the feeling of your tight walls gripping his cock like a lathe.

"Yeah - only for you", he distantly hears you moan above the roar in his ears, feels your little fingers tangle between the silver strands of his hair until you manage to give a sharp tug, right at the base of the back of his neck. He groans into your skin at the sensation.

The liquid heat building inside him is almost overflowing, so close that he can't stop his trembling hips from meeting yours with shallower thrusts. He's almost rubbing himself against you, over and over, frantically. “Aemond, p-please,” you murmur, cherry-colored tongue wetting your plump bottom lip. "I can't anymore, I can't - ngh, please-"

Aemond swallows the rest of your words with a punishing kiss, answering your broken plea by quickly grinding his hips, encouraging your orgasm to wash over you. He doesn't stop, not even when you go rigid, unable to kiss him back or do anything other than moan and cry into his mouth.

Aemond traces your lips with his tongue, nibbling them until they're soft, his own breathing becoming as frantic as the cock that's dragging without pause against your wet walls. When his orgasm washes over him, Aemond is already panting and moaning as if in pain as he rests his forehead against yours; an intense gaze observing yours, focused on every detail of your delicate features. Your hooded gaze, the wet trail of tears on your red cheeks and your uneven breathing. The purest adoration for him shining in your eyes like stars in the dark sky.

And he smiles then.

Because you are his now.

Duly claimed.

With a gentle touch on his elbow, Aemond returns to reality.

The apples of his cheeks are dyed a subtle (but noticeable) shade of red as his violet gaze scans the space in front of him, silently surprised to have been caught in the middle of his unholy reverie.

It's you.

A beautiful silk dress on soft skin. Hair tied in a slightly loose braid. So small compared to him. So beautiful. So...his.

"Prince Aemond, are you okay?"

He looks at you for a moment, debating between feigning disagreement to spare himself the humiliation of being caught or pushing you against the nearest wall.

In the end, he chooses to remain still, head raised proudly and face indifferent, although his violet gaze remains stubbornly tilted downwards, thirsty to maintain eye contact with you.

"Yes, I just got distracted," he says, voice deeper than he'd like it to sound.

You smile, sweet and soft and his heart quickens.

"That's great. Well, it's late and my feet are hurting after all the dancing." You close your eyes in an amused, relaxed expression, there's even a dimple forming in your cheek as the wide smile stretches your lips - and although the sight is enough to fill his chest with a bubbling sensation of pure warmth, a muscle Aemond's jaw jumps at the mere mention of your recent activities. "Have a good night, my Prince." You conclude when he offers no response to your comment, bowing with a respectful farewell before walking away.

He watches you leave the great hall with delicate steps, gentle smiles and nods directed at the people you meet on the way. The image of grace and innocence, without a doubt. At least until you turn your head towards him before walking out the hall doors.

The way your upper teeth sink into the plump flesh of your lower lip, your heavy eyelashes fluttering when you squint briefly, the flushed cheeks and swollen pupils aimed specifically at him...

It happens as quickly as it started. With a fluid movement you turn around again and walk through the hall doors, as if nothing had happened.

Aemond sighs; tired, irritated, burning with lust.

You keep playing with him.

The wine glass shakes and clinks loudly as he places it roughly on the table, but he doesn't care. He doesn't even care if anyone notices as he abruptly follows your steps, leaving the ballroom behind, with a hard gaze and dark features.

He would catch up to you.

And this time he'll make sure it's not just in a daydream-

He will claims you. Truly, indisputably.

#aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond imagine #aemond x fem!reader #aemond fic #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond #aemond x reader #hotd x reader #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon #hotd aemond #hotd

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mae-gi-writes · 11 days ago

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let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (2)

In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.

genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

taglist: @patpatspatz @matchagirliris @multi-fandom-fanfic @alittlebirdahgaselx @kuroos--little--kitten @menacejelly12 @aeshiue @dreamlessnight @altheades @loonalockley @not-your-average-fangirl @bertqut1 @sunlixfl-blog @nabboo007

a/n: enjoy! <3 thanks for all the love given to the first part of this story! here's the second part. Third part is coming soon ~

---- previous | part two | next part >>>

"He can't be serious."

You sigh and watch the wine in your glass slosh around, creating beautiful patterns along the rim of your glass, "unfortunately, I think he is."

Your cousin has on an expression you can't quite place, in-between disgust and pure confusion. He's at the microwave, busy heating up some popcorn. Having adamantly asked you to sit on his couch while taking care of the snacks, you thus decided to watch Sakura play with her legos along the carpet, keeping a watchful eye in case one might end up in her mouth.

"He's only marrying her for the money," is what he concludes after a small pause.

You snort into your glass, take a sip of it and allow the bitterness to coat your tongue, "I wish that were true."

"How would you know that?"

" 'Tsumu, is it written stupid on my forehead?" your own wrinkles in distaste, "I see the way he looks at her. He's--" you choke on your words then, the knot in your throat growing tenfold, "--he's in love with her."

"Who is in love, mum?"

"No one at all," you're quick to answer upon noticing Sakura has been listening in. She normally doesn't, a kid that enjoys staring off into space and conjuring make-believe stories, where there's magic and only happy endings. You try and force a smile onto your face, "how's the house construction for Princess Peach going?"

Your daughter lets out a laugh as she presents to you a square that looks nothing like a house. Still, you coo at it, "so pretty! I bet princess peach would love it."

Your conversation with Atsumu has to wait until Sakura is tucked away in her uncle's bedroom and has listened to three stories about princesses, before you manage to join him back onto the couch where he's busy watching a rerun of volleyball matches.

You don't get to see him much now, courtesy of the fact that he's a national athlete and has been booked at the big games representing Japan. You couldn't be prouder, and yet his permanent absence does still leave a big hole in your heart whenever he flies over a thousand miles. Atsumu had been your rock since you guys were kids, defending you on the school playground and dragging you around to parties and birthdays without your consent. He'd taken care of you as a big brother would and he still is. You don't know how to repay this kind of kindness.

You're just thankful that he has one week off so that you can rant and ramble about the unfairness of the world. At least with Atsumu here, it appeases the pain, if just a little.

"Have you signed the papers yet?" he asks, handing you the bowl of popcorn.

You grab a handful, popping onto of them into your mouth as you answer, "not yet."

"You should ask him for alimony, at least."

"I'm not sure I'd win that, 'Tsumu."

"Still," his nose wrinkles in distaste, "this feels unfair. And why are you the one taking care of Sakura on your own? And I don't mean the parenting part. What about the finances? Why can't he contribute?"

"Because he's a dick and he thinks he can get away with it," you're glad that the tv is providing a welcome distraction, for you can't bear to look into Atsumu's eyes, "I'm just going to sign it and be done with it. I don't want Sakura to suffer any longer. It's not fair on her, she barely sees him."

"Well maybe it's time you find someone else too, y/n."

Your thoughts suddenly flash to Kuroo's beautiful smile and you have to physically force yourself to keep from grinning. You can feel the heat from the back of your neck and come up with the excuse that it's still too early and that Sakura wouldn't like her world shattering just for your happiness.

But it seems that Atsumu knows you better than that, for he asks, "are you blushing?"

"Wha--" Panic skitters through you, "no. No, why would I blush?"

His eyebrows raise, "you’ve met someone then?"

"N--No. Not at all. It's--" you realize you're blundering when his smile widens slightly, "it's not like that."

"So who's the lucky guy?"

"Atsumu."

"Y/N," his eyes glisten with playfulness and he nudges your shoulder, "c'mon. Tell me!"

You let out another breath and mumble, "He’'s not someone I met. He's...Just someone I know."

"And how do you know him?"

"He's Sakura's PE coach."

Atsumu lets out a whistle, "well that--" he shakes his head, "--that's not what I imagined at all."

"Shut up."

"So you like him?"

"It's not--It's really not like that. I--" you try and rack your brain for anything to say because this is really embarrassing. Who has a crush at the age of twenty-nine? Practically all of your friends are already married and have kids, talk about husband problems and how they wish for their youth back. And you? Here you are, thinking you might have a crush. You're no better than a middle school girl.

Which is why you say, "I don't even know him."

"You just think he's cute?"

"Precisely. But there are a lot of cute guys. It doesn't mean anything."

“Right,” Atsumu lets out a breath before he leans back into the couch, “but you know what I think?”

You hum in response.

“I think you should get laid—“

You almost spit out your wine in shock, gape at him in horror, “Atsumu!”

Again, your brain goes into overdrive at the thought of Kuroo and his sweaty chest, the breadth of his shoulders, the way he just towers over your small frame…

NO! You slam onto your mental brakes and shake your head, “you’re disgusting.” You spit out.

“I’m telling the truth princess. I really believe in the power of s—“

“Don’t—“ you cut him off with a raised palm, “don’t even say it.”

“So tell me,” Atsumu proceeds to wriggle his brows suggestively which makes it even harder to stop the blush igniting along your face, “this guy, how handsome is he? Must be pretty good-looking for you to be blushing like that.”

“Shut up ‘Tsumu, it’s not like that at all. Just stop. He's like--half of my age."

“Alright alright,” he laughs his deep-bellied laughter and wraps an arm around you in a gentle, comforting hug, “but if ever you do get lais with him, you gotta tell me.”

“Mum, what does ‘getting laid’ mean?”

“Oh!” Your head snaps to the doorway only to see your daughter all sleepy-eyed and clutching a spare pillow.

“Sakura!” You scramble to over, casting your cousin a scowl as you do, “c’mon, sweetie. Let’s get you back to bed.”

You hear Atsumu’s laughter follow you all the way to the bedroom.

————

It’s weird when Sakura isn’t around.

It’s almost like you’ve lost your purpose. But then again, you should be taking advantage of this right? That’s what everyone keeps telling you.

But alas, something in you cannot just let yourself rest for fear that your thoughts may go into a black hole of what ifs and images of Sakura with your ex-husband’s wife —well, almost ex-husband— and thus decide to take on a last-minute order.

It’s a simple enough request— a birthday cake. While you usually plan events from A to Z, this order merely requested a cake of any kind. So that’s how you spend your Saturday morning — creating a dough and sugar decorations that would fit into the theme of “Halloween”, as per what your client has asked.

You drive up to the pin location around four in the afternoon, strolling through the streets until the google maps signals you that you’ve arrived to your destination. Turning off the ignition at the said house — a beautiful Victorian home adorned with columns twice your height and size — you open your door only to come face to face with a familiar pair of golden eyes.

“Coach?”

“Kosuke-san?”

You both stare. And stare.

It’s shock that comes first. Before realization slaps you in the face, “oh!” You quickly bow in hopes that you haven’t been staring too long, “good afternoon, Coach. What—What brings you here?”

"Kosuke-san," he bows and looks just as surprised as you are, before he notices the way you're struggling to juggle to cake in your arms, "here, let me help you."

Without hesitation, he opens the door a bit wider and closes the gap between you, lifting the box from your arms, "jeez how heavy is this thing?"

You let out a small laugh, "it's all the icing sugar."

"Come in," he gestures with his chin for you to follow and as you step into the threshold he continues, "so when you said you were an event planner--I didn't expect you to be a cake designer too."

"It's an extra service I provide," you shrug, "I'm a patissier by career. Event planning is just something that keeps the cash flowing."

Kuroo pauses in mid-step then, "you're a patissier?"

"Yeah. Well, I was," you chuckle, "but anyway, it's been a while since I've baked now. So I hope it's just as good as you expect it to be."

Kuroo opens his mouth only to be cut off by a horde of boys stumbling into what appears to be the kitchen area. Now that you have a better look, it's all white marble and golden taps and golden handles on every piece of furniture to match. In any case, this house screams of money and for a minute, you feel a bit small and insignificant in your stained-flour blouse, the splotches of paint across your faded out jeans, courtesy of Sakura's art skills.

"You must be y/n!" one of the boys detaches himself. His orange hair glistens in the sun streaming through the window and he's a bit shorter than Kuroo. He beams at you and you can't help but be reminded of a puppy, "thanks for taking my order on such a short notice!"

"No worries at all. You must be...Hinata?"

"Yes!" he shakes your hand, "so I see you've met Kuroo! He's one of my best mates! We used to play against each other back in high school."

"Really now?" you quirk a brow in Kuroo's direction, watching the muscles of his arms ripple as he places the cake in an orderly manner inside the fridge. His voice is muffled when he replies, "yeah, he's the midget that made us jump for our lives. I hated him."

"You're just sour because you lost that one time," Hinata pouts, "but anyway, this is the rest of the ex-team!"

And so that's how you get a round of names that you will probably forget in five minutes and Kuroo, having seen the confusion in your eyes, can't help but laugh to himself because the sight is somewhat adorable. And he knows he shouldn't find it, he knows you're off limits because first, you're a mom from the school and two, you're married and have a kid. It's definitely not at all appropriate for his eyes to be roaming over your curves or to linger over the light glittering in your eyes.

Get a hold of yourself, he mentally whacks the back of his head.

“Where’s the little munchkin?” Kuroo asks you once you’re all settled after having been wheedled by Hinata to stay (“please please please you did such a great job on the cake” is what he’d begged). You’re now perched onto a plush lounge chair, a mixture of juice and vodka in your hand and watching the nth match of pingpong between someone whose name you forget and the other whose name sounds like Daichi. Though yoj might be wrong.

You’re glad for Kuroo’s presence, for even if he is a stranger, he still feels familiar to you right now in this setting.

“Sakura’s with her father today,” you explain with a slight smile in hopes it doesn’t give any of that bitterness away.

Kuroo opens his mouth like he wants so say something — anything— but you beat him to it, “we’re not together. Not anymore.”

His eyes widen with realization and you see it, the way he’s putting all the puzzle pieces together, “I’m sorry to hear,” is what he finally musters.

“Nothing be to be sorry about.”

“So… the name Kosuke…”

“Is my maiden name,” you reply, “I’ve never changed names. Looking back, I think I’ve done the right thing.”

Kuroo isn’t sure whether he should be mad for you or hurt in your place. After all, who in their right mind would leave their wife and their toddler daughter?

He deals with little kids every day, so he knows exactly what they’re like on a daily basis, and it’s not easy.

“I’m sorry,” it seems that’s the only thing he knows how to say.

“Really,” you laugh at him, “how can you be sorry when it’s not even your fault?”

Kuroo shrugs and grins bashfully because yes, it’s true and he still doesn’t know what to say. So he decides to ask, “And Sakura… how is she?”

“She doesn’t realize it. She’s too young,” your smile fades slightly, “in a way, I hope that’s a good sign.”

His heart clenches at the thought of you raising this kid alone. He can’t even imagine it. It makes sympathy swim inside his chest like an ache he can’t quite ignore. The look on your face suggests that you’ve been let down and he has the sudden impulse to tell you that everything will be alright, will be okay.

But he can’t do that. You’ll think of him as a creep. So he bites his tongue and look away instead, at the war of pingpong ongoing between his two friends. In a way, he’s glad for the distraction as he sips on his beer.

“And you?” Your voice piping up surprises him. His eyes flit back to your face. You continue, “married? Engaged?”

Kuroo’s throat bobs as he chuckles, “no. None of that.”

“How come?” You take a sip of your cocktail, “you don’t seem like the type to wound up alone with a hundred cats.”

“No no,” he can’t help but laugh because one, you’re hella attractive to him; tiny and frail and looking like he can fit you in a box no problem and two; you’re actually entertaining to be around. Something that he’s found lacking in his previous dates, “I just didn’t find anyone special yet.”

“Well there's no rush,” you lift your cocktail as you speak, “and anyway, you’re still young. You should enjoy it while you can.”

“Young?” Kuroo’s face breaks into a grin as his golden orbs glimmer down at you, amused, “how old do you think I am?”

"Uhm--I don't know. Early twenties?"

"I'm twenty-five," he gives you a look, "how old are you?"

"Twenty-eight. Going on twenty-nine."

"You look like you've just gotten out of college though," Kuroo's smirk is visible even behind his beer as he chugs down most of his drink, "if I didn't know better, I'd say you and Sakura were sisters."

"Not even," you retort, "And excuse me, but you look younger than twenty-five."

"I make up for it in height," he peers down at you, "but I suppose you wouldn't understand that considering--"

Your arm whacks at his shoulder before you know it. A playful gesture surely, but one that you don't really use on your daughter's teachers. Let alone ones that have bulging muscles and a figure to die for. You stare at your hand for a long minute, your brain going blank, before your eyes whip up to his and horror seeps into your gaze.

"Oh my god!" you screech and recoil like he's the one that had slapped you, "I'm so sorry, I--It's just--automatic you know, my cousin--he's got the same humor and--well I--I'm really sorry--"

The guffaw that leaves Kuroo's mouth is so loud that it causes heads to turn, even the ones invested in the ping pong game. He bends over while holding his stomach and the initial panic that you have wears off upon seeing him look so joyously happy. You can't help but chuckle along.

"What?" you say when he's regained most of his breath, "what's so funny?"

"You are," he grins, before it turns mischievous, "senpai."

"Hey--now that's going a bit too far!"

You're not quite sure what time you get home that night. But you do know that you've gone to sleep with a smile on your face.

————

"Kuroo sensei! He stole my ball!"

A typical Monday morning where Kuroo is busy surveilling the fifth graders as they decided to play basketball during their free time. He's not one to deny such requests, actually enjoys watching them play and seeing them grow day by day, developing their techniques. But to say that he's a bit in the clouds would be an understatement.

"Kuroo sensei!"

He finally snaps back to reality. Blinks down at the tiny boy with the biggest scowl he's ever seen yet, "yes I'm sorry. What's wrong?"

"He stole my ball!" the young boy points at one of the chubby classmates who seems quite content in playing by himself, "and now he's saying that it was his!"

Kuroo can't help but raise a brow. He's taught that class before, knows exactly that the chubby little kid doesn't have that many friends, including the boy standing before him.

"I don't think he stole your ball."

It's a bold statement, but from the way the tiny student squirms and averts his gaze, Kuroo believes he is right, "but--but he did! He really did steal my ball!"

"I have an idea," Kuroo bends down to his height, not able to restrain the grin along his face at the pout forming on the student's lips, "why don't you go and play with him? He seems a bit lonely."

"Yeah that's because he never talks to anyone in class."

"Then why don't you be the first? hm?" he nudges the boy's shoulder, "show your class a good example. Come on."

With a bit more reassurance, the said student goes over and Kuroo watches fondly as the two exchange awkward greetings before the chubby student nods his head, glancing at his PE coach like he'd just dropped a bomb.

Five minutes later, they're playing together like best friends.

And Kuroo goes back to daydreaming.

He's not usually like this. So out of it, so inside his own head that he can't see the outside world. But ever since that party he's been wondering when's the next time he'd get to see you, to talk to you. Not just as Sakura's mum but as someone, maybe a friend. He's addicted to the way your eyes curve up before your lips are even drawn into a smile, like you're sharing a special secret with him before the world gets a flash of blinding white teeth. He enjoys watching you move about because you're just so tiny, holding cups with two hands and always having to tiptoe about to find stuff. But most of all, that conversation with you had him dreaming of more. He wants to know you, that initial curiosity turning to what he'd define as stupid infatuation.

Yes, Kuroo Tetsurou has a crush, and he's not quite sure how to feel about it.

"--Earth to Kuroo?"

He blinks. In front of him stands his colleague and friend Bokuto. Having faced each other off countlessly during their high school days, it was a miracle and lovely surprise to see him at the new year induction. Since then, they’d been a constant pair inside the school walls and creating assignments, organizing and coordinating events had never been so fun.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and rubs a hand over his face.

“You look like death, mate,” Bokuto leans on the fencing that separates the courts from the building, “why the long face?”

“Haven’t slept well,” Kuroo says, but he knows he’s not convincing when Bokuto’s eyebrows raise in question.

“You? Firm believer of 10hrs of sleep every day?” His friend shakes his head, “no way. Tell me what happened. What’s got you looking so dazed?”

“It’s noth—“ he halts. Maybe he can find some advice? Bokuto’s known for being a badass romantic after all. Maybe he can have something wise to say.

Like tell Kuroo you’re way out of his league and— what the hell is he even thinking, dating someone’s mom? Someone older than him, at that?

The words burst out of his mouth without warning:

“I think I like someone.”

Bokuto merely blinks. His face lights up, “well that explains it. Who?”

Kuroo’s arm swings to the back to scratch his neck, “it’s… one of the student’s mom’s.”

The last few words are said in a mumble, causing Bokuto to lean into his friend with a wide-eyed gaze, surprise flitting across his face when he realizes what Kuroo has just said.

“No,” the grey-haired man’s mouth turns into an “o” as he stares his friend down, “no way. Who?”

“I don’t think you know her. Sakura Kosuke?” Kuroo prompts.

“Sakura Kosuke…” Bokuto shakes his head in thought, “haven’t heard of that one. But—-Kuroo! I thought older women weren’t your style!”

“She’s not that old,” Kuroo’s face flames, “only by three years.”

"Who would've thought," Bokuto breathes out with a chuckle when a thought suddenly occurs to him, "wait-- it's not the chick who came by with the cake last weekend?"

Kuroo nods and awkwardly clears his throat, "yeah, the very same."

"Ha! If only I knew! I would've done my best to set you up!"

"It's not funny!"

But now that Bokuto has some leverage of information, he's definitely not going to let it go and Kuroo kind of regrets spilling the beans to him, of all people. That, and the probably fact that he’ll be spreading this news like wildfire across their friend group.

Thankfully, Kuroo’s schedule makes it that it’s hard to think about anything but work since midterm season is approaching for his other primary school colleagues. There’s after-school shows and events for every single activity and since he’s being asked to help for every single thing (because he’s the preschool teacher and, yeah! How come you don’t have any events planned for your preschoolers?!). Which means that he doesn’t have actual time to think about you, not even when he’s finally home and mustering up enough strength to brush his teeth, take a shower and dump himself in bed.

He does, however, collide head-first into you one week day as you’re hurrying out of the principal’s office, looking flustered and red-faced.

“Kosuke-san,” he takes a longing glance your rosy cheeks and felt his hand tingle with want. Just to see if it’s as soft as he imagines it to be? “You okay?”

“Kuroo sensei,” you run a hand through your locks and causing your hair to get even more disheveled, “hi, sorry— how are you? It’s been a while.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You’re looking a bit more greenish now that he sees you in the light.

“Yes I—“ your hands flutter up before you in an attempt to find an explanation, “—just came back from a meeting with Sakura’s teacher.”

“Oh?” Kuroo frowns, “what—nothing bad, I hope?”

“It’s just—well,” you try to chuckle but it comes out like a whimper, “apparently she got into a fight with one of the other girls in her class. Got a few injuries herself so…”

Your eyes are wet and it seems you’re half a second away from a breakdown. So it’s only natural for Kuroo to take a few steps closer to you before he whispers a soft, “hey hey, you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you take a shaky breath, “it’s just been a long, hard morning.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo bites onto his lower lip, not sure what to do to make things better as he watches your chest move up and down in staggered breaths.

That’s when an idea hits him. He makes a grab for the back of your elbow and the smallness, the thinness of your limb takes him be surprise as he steers you out of the corridor.

And when your wide eyes flutter up to his, he quickly says something along the lines of, “I know a place. It’ll make you feel better.”

That’s how he finds himself dragging you to the nearby coffee place he always frequents— called Espresso Block— a small vintage bakery run by none other than his good friend Osamu Miya, as part of his expansion branch from his onigiri restaurants.

"Y/N!" Osamu greets as soon as he spots your face trailing behind Kuroo's tall figure. He pushes the raven-haired man aside with impatience before sauntering over and wrapping you up in a bear hug.

"Osamu," you breathe in the scent of baked croissants lingering on his uniform, "you're choking me."

"Oh--sorry," he drops you and grins sheepishly, that is before he registers that you're together with one of his friends, causing his eyes to narrow, "how do you two know each other?"

"Kosuke-san is Sakura's mother and she was having a bad day," Kuroo explains before he turns to you, "how do you know him?"

Did you imagine the five-second frostiness that came from his tone? Maybe not, as you reply, "he's my cousin. We grew up together. I taught him how to play volleyball back in primary school."

Kuroo's relief is instant. Thank god, it's not a close friend, nor is it a romantic partner candidate. His mood brightens instantly and without further ado he proceeds to lead you towards a table in the back.

He doesn’t fail to ignore the way Osamu’s eyes are following him all the way back to his table as he carries the two drinks — strawberry latte for him and a black coffee for you — and Kuroo can just hope that his dear friend can keep his distance until you've gone.

Becayse he's quite certain he will be subject to interrogation. Especially if you're that close to Osamu.

Placing the tray on the table, he takes out the mug and pushes it into your hands before finding his seat opposite you. You grab the cup between your two palms and take a deep breath as Kuroo sips on his latte.

The sweetness of the strawberry never disappoints. It’s refreshing and brings a smile to his lips. Osamu sure knows his desserts.

“I'm really sorry about what happened earlier," you seem to have composed yourself from earlier. You take a small sip of your coffee and Kuroo watches in amusement as you shudder.

"Do you want some milk with that?" he can't help but ask.

You nod and look shameful, and Kuroo's heart squeezes with sympathy. Your eyes are tinged with aprons of blue and there are tired lines lining your eyes and the corners of your mouth. It's only when he comes back -- from having gotten some steamed milk from Osamu and a suggestive wink to match -- you dip your head into a nod and mumble out a soft 'thanks', eyes glued to the way the dark brown turned into a creamy latte.

"You could've asked me for a latte," Kuroo smiled to show that he didn't mind at all. But you winced.

"I'm sorry--"

"Don't say sorry," he softened, "just--next time, you can tell me what you want, Kosuke-san. I'm not here to bite you...unless you want me to."

Your eyes flit up to his in surprise and Kuroo pinks at his words. They'd just slipped out on their own. It's not like he'd wanted to sound flirty when you're looking all shaky and worse for wear. He quickly clear his throat and tries to change the subject, "how are Sakura's injuries?"

"She's fine, got herself a bruised lip."

His eyebrows raise in surprise, "woah, that's still something."

"Yeah," you mutter and take another sip. And then another, "I hope this doesn't become a habit."

"I've taught Sakura since the start of this semester," Kuroo leans forward, elbows propped onto the table, "and I can tell you--she's anything but violent."

"I really hope you're right about this. I can't have her running around beating up everyone."

Kuroo stifled a small laugh, "to be honest, I think it's good she knows how to defend herself."

You shoot him a look and he can't help but laugh. And it's so contagious, the way it booms out of him like a melody, that you cannot restrain yourself from joining in.

"You're right," you say in-between chuckles.

"Maybe she got her mom's feisty spirit," Kuroo adds.

"No way. I was as silent as a mouse," you retort, "if she got anything like that, it's probably from her father's--"

You halt in mid-conversation, wanting to bite down your tongue for even mentioning him and quickly flash Kuroo a bashful smile in hopes he'll just brush it off, "sorry, let's not talk about him--"

"Kosuke-san, you really have to stop saying sorry all the time," Kuroo says with a grin, "it's not healthy."

"I know, I'm--" you catch yourself and he bursts out laughing once more at your face, "don't say it! No matter what!" he chides.

"Stop--" but you're grinning from ear to ear, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, "--Kuroo sensei, I hope you're not as playful with your students or they'd never learn anything from you."

"Course not," he winks, "I keep that solely for the pretty ladies."

His suggestive tone makes you blush despite it all and you look down at your coffee with the blush blazing so hard across your cheeks you swear everyone can see its colour from afar.

"I don't know how it is at home though," Kuroo's voice brings you out of your small bubble of warmth, "it must be tough handling Sakura all alone. Do you ever take a break?"

"Well, she goes to see her dad ever two weeks. But other than that, she's always with me unless my parents decide to come over. Which isn't as often as I would like."

"Why's that?"

"They live in the countryside and have a farm. It's hard for them to take days off, and I don't blame them not wanting to be around," your voice lowers to a mutter at the last few words, "especially after what happened with the marriage and all..."

"Marriages fail every time," Kuroo says gently then, "that too, isn't your fault."

"I wish my parents believed that," you let out a small laugh, "but they're right. We were too young to get married."

"But you have Sakura right? Isn't she worth it?"

His eyes, golden flecked and filled with so much hope and softness, meet yours from across the table. You suddenly feel a bit hot in your seat, wanting to squirm as you quickly look away from Kuroo's gaze because dear god, it's almost like he's ripping away, ripping apart every single layer of self-protection and preservation and reading you out like an open book.

"You're right," you clear your throat upon realizing he'd still been waiting for your response, "she is worth every single second. I wouldn't change anything about what happened. I just--I wish my parents could see it that way too."

"I think you spend a little too much time stressing about things you can't control," Kuroo takes another sip of his latte, "how about you learn to let go a bit? Maybe take the day off? Go hiking?"

"With Sakura?" you shake your head, "impossible, I--"

"Surely you have someone that can take care of her while you're gone," he tilts his head, jaw resting into one of his hands and making him appear all the more handsome.

Your thoughts flash to Atsumu. He's right, you could technically take a day off by dropping Sakura with the blonde. But she's not his responsibility and Atsumu has other priorities in his life rather than hang out with his niece. But Kuroo's persistence is strong and he makes you -- practically orders you -- to text him when he connects the dots that you two are also family.

"That guy can learn a thing or two about being responsible anyway," grins Kuroo, "so I'm sure he won't mind."

————

How did you end up here?

That's the question you keep asking yourself -- even when you're busy picking out your clothes only to realize that you barely have anything that's worth 'party material', even when you're attempting to do your makeup even though it's been almost three (or four?) years since you've tried to look your best because Sakura's wellbeing always came first.

Even when you're strapping up your black ankle boots, the question is getting drilled into your brain like a broken mixtape as you wonder whether this is a good idea after all.

"Go," Atsumu is firm when you call him for the nth time. It's five minutes until Kuroo's supposed to pick you up and feeling the pressure on your shoulders, you quickly decide to call your cousin in an emergency, "you have to do it, y/n. Stop making this all about Sakura. You need to be happy too."

"I am happy," was what you'd mumbled out in the phone receiver. You don't realize how tightly you're gripping the phone, so tight that your knuckles have turned white.

"I know you are, but you'll be happier if you live for yourself. At least for one night," Atsumu responds, "and Sakura's safe with me. And if ever there's an issue I'll call Osamu first to--"

"What?! No! No you call me first, okay?"

"Y/n please just relax. It's supposed to be a fun night."

You slump against the wall in defeat, "I don't even know why I'm doing this," you mumble mostly to yourself, though you're certain he can hear it too, "there's no point trying to prove that I'm content with my life. There are things that are going to leave me unsatisfied. I'm--I was fine with that, really."

"Are you though?" your cousin's voice is accusatory this time, "you're ready to live just for Sakura? Making her happy will make you happy too? Is this how it's supposed to work?"

"Technically yes, I'm her mother--"

"--And you've been left behind!"

The words are like a slap. You bite down onto your lower lip.

It draws blood.

You hiss, sucking on the skin as the metallic taste hits your tongue.

In truth, Atsumu has a point. You can't just live to make Sakura happy because that will ultimately destroy you. Not because she's not the only thing you need in your life. But because despite having your little girl being the center of your world, despite being able to sustain her with your career, you still feel like it's just yesterday when Aoi had upped and left you. His excuses, as pathetic as they had been, were arrows shooting straight into your heart. He left you crying into your pillow that night, hovering over your figure until you'd told him to 'get lost or I'll call the cops on you' before curling up on the small couch that you'd gotten rid of once he'd moved out for good.

So much pain. So much pain and haunted nights and obstacles that had come your way. That, along with caring for Sakura, had been a big hurdle. You remembered the long mornings, how hard it had been to drag yourself out of bed for the first few days. Atsumu had volunteered to stay with you then, giving you all the support you needed until you'd had enough strength to get back on your feet.

So he knew exactly what you'd gone through. Had seen it all first-hand. He wasn't kidding when he said you really needed to get laid. Somehow, he seems to have a valid point.

But it's been so long since you've left the dating scene that the thought of it makes you want to vomit.

"I'm sorry y/n, that wasn't cool." Atsumu's voice flows through the receiver like a lullaby and you take a deep, staggering breath, "I just--I know how hard it's been pulling your weight and caring for Sakura. It practically consumed your entire life. It's about time you get that motherfucker back for screwing things up--"

"Language," you tsk at him.

"You know what I mean," he replies impatiently, "So go out there, have fun. Get smashed. And at least do something to make you happy for a change. Alright?"

"Yeah okay," you mumble.

"And plus, you're with a bunch of guys that I know. They're cool. They'll keep an eye on you."

"Thanks mom."

"Anytime hun."

You can't help but giggle before you hear a car pulling up outside, "alright. I think my ride's here."

"Yeah, try to get laid okay--"

"Atsumu!" your cheeks flame, "I hope you're not saying all this in front of Sakura!"

A burst of laughter echoes from the receiver, "don't worry, miss Sakura is asleep. Have fun y/n! Take pictures!"

The drive there is less awkward than you'd imagined it to be, despite the fact that Kuroo's get-up does make your mouth salivate. And not just you. You realize a bunch of girls have him on their radar, from the stolen glances driven his way as you follow his broad back out of the parking and into the small terrace-looking entrance flanked by colored glowing palm trees.

"I haven't been in a club for like four years," you confess to him as you trudge into the queue. The air smells like cigarette and smoke. And something else. Something dangerous. It makes you giddy, you realize.

"Four years?" his eyes grow round as he looks down at you, "you have drunk before right? To the brink of passing out?"

"Like...maybe four years ago?"

His mouth opens, then closes. He shakes his head, a smile curving at the edges of his lips, "remind me not to drown you with tequila."

"I'll try my best."

You meet the rest of the gang upon stumbling into the club. It's dark and pulsating with music, with two dance floors separated by the DJ stationed on a platform right in the middle. Lights are bouncing off the space like crazy and all around you are moving bodies that writh and mold together until you're not sure where one ends and the other begins.

“Y/N! You’re here!” A drunk Hinata hooks an arm around your shoulder before steering you towards the bar, “you’re just in time! We were going for a round of lambos.”

“Lambos?” You balk and meet Kuroo’s eye, “you mean— Lamborgini’s?”

“Hell yeah!” Another one of the guys chimes in. It’s almost comical, the way they’re all stumbling against each other as you move like a congregation until you’re straight up in front of the barman.

“Ten Lambo’s please!” Hinata slams his card ontot he counter.

It brings back a wave of nostalgia, seeing the line of glasses and the way the bartender drops the alcohol in like he can do it with his eyes closed. You’re jostled and pressed against warm chests and shoulders, surrounded from all sides and yet, you feel safe with them all. That is, until you feel a soft brush against your elbow.

You turn to see Kuroo’s warm golden orbs.

“All okay?” He mouths to you.

You nod and give him a smile in return, and the grin that he cracks makes a troop of butterflies swoop into your stomach.

You look away just as Hinata thrusts a glass into your hands, “come y/n! This one’s on me!”

One shot becomes two. And two become three. Soon enough you find yourself on the dance floor and moving to the beat with one of the girls from the group— Yachi?— while the guys are trying to pay each other back their shots. The music vibrates through the floor up your body and flood your veins so that you get lost in it, ecstasy and the thrill of just being alive finally gushing through your brain, fogged up and amplified by the alcohol in your bloodstream.

It’s amazing. You feel free. Like nothing can stop you.

It’s honestly the best you’ve felt in a while.

After a while, you and Yachi decide to take a well-deserved break, stumbling over to the clustered seating space filled with red cushions as the boys scatter to find more alcohol. At this point you’re surprised that they’re still moving around and conscious, considering the amount they’ve drunk.

One of the boys— the one with the kind smile called Daichi— offers to get you guys some water as you take a seat, allowing your tired legs to take a break.

“I’m going to fine Hinata!” Yachi says into your ear and you nod before ushering her out of your way. There’s something between those two, a kind of tension that will develop into something more if they just allow it.

But you’re not one to meddle, not when your own love life’s a mess.

That’s when you notice.

It’s the lingering stare out of the corner of your peripheral that makes you turn your head.

Then you see him.

A tall, lanky man. He’s seated right opposite you, a drink in his hand and taking a swig. But there’s no mistake, for when his eyes meet yours across the room you can only jolt in shock.

You look away with embarrassment and disgust. Heat spreads to the back of your neck and goosebumps run up your arms. Suddenly, it’s a little too cold in this hot, sweaty club.

Why is he looking at you like that?

There’s no mistaking the intention. You risk one more glance and confirm that indeed, there’s a darkness in his eyes; the kind of a predator.

The kind that wants to strip you bare.

It’s unsetttling, unnerving.

Disgusting.

You don’t even hesitate. It’s like instinct for you jump off your seat with the only purpose to find Kuroo. But to your terror, the man starts to follow you. And soon enough it becomes a game of catch: of cat and mouse. You almost trip over your high heels as you push through the moving bodies as quickly as you can.

But the figure is there, hovering over you like a dark shadow that causes your heart to clench.

You bite back a whimper, pushing through a throng of girls as you frantically search for a sign of Kuroo’s familiar mop of hair. Or Hinata’s. Or just about anyone for that matter—

Bumping into a chest, you’re more than surprised as you let out a small yelp only to hear a familiar alto.

“Kosuke-san, everything alright?”

“K—Kuroo sensei,” your mumble is drowned in the beats of the music, eyes darting between his face and the dodgy man.

He’s now standing by the bar a few feet away from you. The same kind of withering stare that makes you wince.

Hurriedly, you turn to Kuroo and grip his shirt, wanting nothing more than to hide behind him, “I—uhm— there’s someone—“ the words jumble up as they pour out of your mouth and you find you can do nothing but grip his shirt for dear life, like Kuroo’s the only thing that can help you out of here.

Thankfully, he seems to understand your dilemma, for he puts a hand on your shoulder before steering you a little closer to him and away from the main path, a frown evident on his face, “what’s wrong Kosuke-san?”

But it’s only when he follows your fear-stricken eyes that Kuroo realizes there’s something — someone tormenting you. He recognizes the dark hunger, the prowling intent.

Instantly, his hand grips your waist. Tugs you closer.

You stumble into him, “Kuroo sensei—“

But Kuroo’s not having it. He stares the man down with a glower, longer body practically wrapped around yours in a protective embrace as he dares the man to do something, anything.

Try me, his eyes are saying, you’re not going to lay a single hand on her.

The stranger finally breaks eye contact after a few beats of silence and Kuroo keeps watch, golden eyes blazing until the man is nothing more but a memory of smoke as he disappears into the crowd.

Only then does he allow his hold to relax. Tilting down towards you. He murmurs out softly:

“He’s gone, Kosuke-san.”

You’re practically glued to him at this point, face buried in his chest and hands gripping so tightly onto his shirt that you might’ve grown claws. Kuroo nudges you gently once more, and that’s when you look up from the depths of his shirt.

The sight makes him almost coo because goddamnit even in the dim disco lights you look adorable. He has the sudden urge to pinch your cheeks and he’s glad his hands are somewhat occupied along your waist.

“You okay?” Is what he whispers.

You nod, looking a bit shaky and green int the face, “yeah—I’m—I’m fine. Thank you. He was—it scared me.”

“I know,” Kuroo draws away ever so slightly so he can have a better look at your face, “I’ll bring you home, alright?”

“No no it’s okay,” you shake your head and attempt a smile, but even Kuroo can see past those shaky lips, “you stay and have fun. I’ll call an Uber and—“

“Nonsense,” he grabs your elbow once more, “I’ll accompany you. C’mon.”

———

It’s definitely unnerving. It leaves you shaking with fear and you’re thankful for Kuroo’s strong grip on your arm as he maneuvers you out of the club.

The rush of cold wind hits your cheeks, leaving the soft beats of the club behind. Slowly, the world comes back into focus as the air rushes through your lungs and the sound bustling traffic in the distance is brought back into focus.

Only then do you realize how close you’re standing to the coach.

With a start, you stumble away with a muttered “sorry”, not daring to meet his eyes while quickly brushing off your clothes because dear god you weren’t sure what to do with your hands.

The uber arrives without much delay — thankfully — and the ride home is silent, almost as if there’s an awkward tension that has settled between the two of you. Away from the alcohol and now sobering up, it’s impossible to ignore the fact that you’d practically glued yourself to this man earlier. The act is so embarrassing you decidedly keep your gaze on the flurry of bustling streets and dim lamps flying by.

You don’t realize you’ve dozed off until a warm hand is shaking your shoulder, followed by a soft; “we’re here.”

You gasp, noticing that you’ve been pressed against Kuroo’s shoulder all this time.

“Oh,” you scramble away as quick as lightning, “I’m so sorry—“

His lips quirk upwards, “no harm done, senpai.”

You hate it when he calls you that. It makes you sound… old.

Nevertheless, you decide to be quiet as he accompanies you up to your flat, hands in his pockets while following you up the rusty stairs. You hope he’s not judging; it’s not like you have unlimited amounts of funding, what with Sakura’s education and activities.

“Well,” you finally reach the door to your flat and turn on your heel so that you face him, “thanks… for everything.”

"No problem," he's smiling down at you. Still so patient, still so happy to help. Your heart swells in your chest and you ask, "how are you getting back?"

"Oh, probably Uber..." he trails off, already turning away to fish his phone out of his pocket, "it's not far."

"Where do you live?"

You almost bawk when he tells you his address, because it's practically at the other end of town. He'll be there in forty-five minutes, at least.

The words are automatic, shooting out of you, "I'm so--"

But Kuroo's hand whips out, clamping over your lips. Your eyes widen as you look up at him, only to see the young man grinning like there's no tomorrow.

"You really need to stop doing that," he finally says before drawing back. Already, you're hit with the cold air following Kuroo's touch upon your skin, "I wanted to accompany you. There's nothing to apologize for."

"I know, but--"

He throws you another pointed look that has you clamping down on your mouth. You're about to say sorry once more because you're being a pathetic blubbery mess, but the look in his eyes makes you say a soft, "thank you" instead.

"You're welcome," and with one final grin and a wave to match, the school Coach disappears down the corridor, leaving you gazing at his broad back until his silhouette turns the corner and away from your sight.

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froggywritesstuff · 1 year ago

Text

hell is no place for a human | yandere!stolas

ship/pairing: yandere!stolas x human!g/n!reader

request: anon: Can I request a yandere stolas with a human reader trying to escape?

warnings: kidnapping, unwanted touching (nonsexual), crying, handcuffs

fandom: Helluva Boss

word count: 1143

A/N: Stolas is canonically gay so fem reader's DNI. i do not in any way support yandere behaviour, please know that this writing is purely fictional, and should not ever be reenacted in real life

You had come up with the perfect plan. Just follow the plan and you'd finally be free of the sharp talons Stolas constantly had digging into your shoulder. Unfortunately, the plan required you to be away from Stolas. Which you'd found to be nearly impossible. The demon prince was incredibly clingy, and seemed to always need to be with you. It was no use getting help either, as Stolas had ordered every guard to immediately return you to him if you ever tried to escape. He treated the imps decently, so you doubted they'd jump at the opportunity to defy him. So maybe your plan wasn't so perfect after all. But after that realisation, you added some extra steps to the plan in order to get Stolas away from you.

You were sat in Stolas’s lap as he cuddled you on his couch, trying not to shake in anticipation.

He was talking about something you weren’t paying attention to, until you cleared your throat, “Stolas, I need to go to the bathroom.”

He paused his rant for a moment, quickly sitting up, picking you and changing your position so you were sat in his lap facing him.

”Is everything ok darling?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. He would act like the world was ending if you had a stomach ache. “Yes, I’m fine, I just need the bathroom.”

He nodded, seemingly relieved you weren’t sick, and he called out to one of the imps standing guard, “Escort them.” He ordered, setting you off his lap and onto the floor. He cupped your face and placed a kiss on your cheek, an action you had to hide your disgusted expression over.

You were promptly escorted to the bathroom - something you weren’t happy about - and locked the door behind you, immediately searching through the drawers. Eventually, you found a sharp enough object you could use, gripping it tight in your hand before you opened the bathroom door.

The imp guard stared at you with an unreadable expression, seemingly unfazed by you holding a weapon to him. You took a step back, “Don’t say a word to Stolas. Please.” you breathed out, before sprinting off through the halls of Stolas’s palace.

You knew your words would have no effect on the imp, who was probably already off to inform Stolas about you running away. All you could do was run.

Your legs burned as you sped through the palace halls, anxiety plaguing your mind with every second you were out of the palace. You had no idea what you’d do once you were free. Hell definitely wasn’t safe for a human, Stolas never failed to let you know that day after day. You didn’t want to think about what might happen to you if you got out, but you also couldn’t bear to think of what would happen if Stolas caught you. He put up a sweet, loving front, but you knew he’d have to get angry at something as bad as this. You just didn’t know how angry…

While running, you heard a loud, demonic screech, followed by loud crashing noises. Your pace instantly sped up, fear fueling you. You were so close, the pounding footsteps behind you making you sprint even faster. You turned a corner, almost able to see the palace doors, when a large claw gripped your shoulder tightly, roughly throwing you to the ground. You craned your neck to look behind you, eyes widened in fear as you met Stolas’s multiple burning red eyes. Despite his bigger and darker appearance, you knew it was Stolas. Breathless, you coughed, trying to lift yourself up with shaky hands, only for you to fall back down. You shook in fear as you heard footsteps nearing you. A soft, firm hand touched your shoulder, a big contrast from the previous violent scene.

”My love, are you hurt?” You flinched at Stolas’s voice, unnerved by how calm his voice was. He held your hand gently, helping you sit up, and you saw Stolas back to normal.

You stayed silent, attempting to read his concerned face to find any anger that might let you know if you were in danger. If he was angry to the point he might hurt you, he was hiding it extremely well.

He sighed, effortlessly picking you up and beginning to carry you. He stayed silent for the entire walk back to your shared room, which had you extremely on edge.

You didn’t even know how scared you were until you realised you were physically shaking in his grip, before he placed you on the bed.

”Y/N,” it was silent for so long, that the sound made you flinch, “why did you try to leave?”

You were silent. Any truthful answer you gave would just upset him more, which was the last thing you wanted to do.

He sighed, gently but firmly grabbing your jaw and lifting your head so you were looking at him, “Answer me when I ask you something. Why did you try to leave?”

You couldn’t take it anymore, tears poured from your eyes and you shook under his cold gaze, “I-I’m sorry Stolas, I’m sorry, I-I-I-“

”Y/N,” his voice was so sweet, like honey, “look at me.” his hand moved from your jaw to cup your cheek, using his thumb to wipe your tears, “Breathe, just breathe.”

You found yourself doing as he said, taking deep breaths and eventually calming yourself down enough to have a conversation with Stolas.

”Y/N, I shouldn’t need to tell you why you can’t be running away and going outside, you hear it from me everyday.” He said, grabbing handcuffs from his desk drawer and walking back toward you, making you shrink back in fear.

”Stolas, I-“

”But apparently, I do. Perhaps I overestimated your species. Perhaps I overestimated you. If you can’t listen to a simple instruction, it’s clear you’re in need of proper guidance. My guidance.” He took your arms, one at a time and handcuffed them to the bed frame. “My dear, you’re simply far too precious to be left unsupervised.” You swallowed nervously. If he thought constantly clinging to you and showering you with affection was leaving you unsupervised, you couldn’t imagine what he thought was the opposite. “And it appears I’ll have to be taking extra measures to keep you safe.”

You shook with fear, making the handcuffs rattle against the bed frame, "No- Stolas, what are you-"

"My dear, until I believe you've learnt your lesson, you will not be leaving this room."

"What?! Stolas you-"

"Y/N if you ever want to leave this room within the span of a month, I suggest you stay quiet."

You swallowed your words, immediately shrinking back. You'd never seen Stolas angry at you, and it wasn't something you wanted to keep seeing.

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genevievefangirl · 26 days ago

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Gen's Top 100 DBDA Fics - PART 9

For all caveats/rules/backstory, please read the Master Post

The Manuscript of Real People By: paraph @paraphwrites Rating: M Tags: AU - Boarding School, Angst, Slow Burn, Pining, Unfinished Summary: Britain, 1976. Three years into boarding at Saint Hilarion's School, Edwin Paine is assigned Charles Rowland as a roommate. - Featuring: mistakes better made, days hidden in libraries, and no rafter left unwandered. also featuring: charles doing sport and edwin being gay for it, edwin being a nerd and charles being gay for it, and me pretending i know what boarding schools are like! My Notes: The darker boarding school that is universally beloved! This fic is honestly publish worthy. I love every word, sentence, and chapter. When it updates I RUN to read it and gush about it on the DBDA Haunt server with everyone else who is equally obsessed. When a new chapter drops, it is an event! (Also this is one of 2 unfinished fics that made the list, if that doesn't show how much I love it I don't know what will!)

The Many Forms of Phantoms By: thegirlofthorns @edwinspaynes Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Orbs Summary: Suddenly, there was a blast of light where Edwin was sitting. Charles dropped the comic to look at his friend, but Edwin was gone. In his place was a ball that glowed white, with some blue undertones reflecting off the surface. “Edwin!?” Charles threw the comic and ran over to the desk. “Edwin!” He picked up the little glowing ball in his hands and assessed it. It was odd – Charles could feel the orb, smooth like a perfect stone, and… warm. He had not felt temperature in over a year, and the orb was distinctly radiating warmth. “Edwin?” His voice was soft now. “Is that… you?” - Or, it's 1990, and Edwin involuntarily becomes a spirit orb for the first time. My Notes: Orb lore! Orb lore! Edwin turning into Orbwin unexpectedly and Charles and him trying to figure out what is all means is very entertaining.

the phantoms here will never have their fill By: ahyperactivehero (ahyperactiverhero) @ahyperactivehero Rating: T Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Protective Charles Rowland, Protective Edwin Payne, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Hurt Edwin Payne, Slow Burn Summary: Poltergeists are created when a ghost experiences extreme emotional distress. Poltergeists are notoriously hard to reign in, and they almost never gently move on. Neither Edwin nor Charles ever imagined it would happen to them. Basically, five times where the Dead Boy Detective Agency dealt with the threat of a poltergeist. XXX “Once you choose to go down the poltergeist route there is no coming back,” Edwin said. “And I will have no choice but to follow you.” “You can’t do that mate,” Charles said. His voice had cleared up some, his form less wavy. “Then do not go where I cannot follow,” Edwin said. My Notes: This was one of my first fic obessions when I joined the fandom. The ideas that it poses about poltergeists have been referenced by many other authors and are truly foundational fanon at this point. Plus it has Charles protecting Edwin many times which I love!

The Problem of Forever By: RB (BlueflowersandWings) @writerofstuff Rating: T Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective Charles Rowland, Case Fic, Kind of Summary: At first, it is subtle. — Or: a ghost couple comes to them with a case. Unfortunately for all parties involved, it does not go well. My Notes: I love how both the boys have to address insecurities to grow in their relationship. Charles being worried he's going to hurt Edwin and be like his dad hurts me deeply and Edwin worrying about being annoying hits too close to home.

The Seventh Circle of Hell By: chewingrocks Rating: G Tags: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Soulmatism, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: Charles goes down to Hell to rescue Edwin, however he ends up stumbling across one of Edwin's many corpses. My Notes: Is it bad that Charles crying over one of Edwin's dead body stuck with me so much? I don't think so! Sad Charles thinking Edwin is dead makes me *feel things*.

the taste in your mouth By: greenaerie Rating: M Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Dubious Consent. Hurt/Comfort, Protective Charles Rowland, Protective Edwin Payne Summary: An unexpected attack from Esther shocks the Dead Boy Detective Agency, taking Charles out of commission. Edwin solves this the only way he can. A good detective does what they must, after all. My Notes: Basiclly what would have happened if Edwin decided to take the Cat King's original offer. The complicated consent issue here is really well addressed and I like how confused Edwin's feelings are about the whole interaction.

The Veil Between Our Love By: Mayarenerose @acediscowlng Rating: G Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: “Edwin,” he calls out. There’s a ball of anxiety knotted deep in his gut. It’s stupid. Edwin probably just went into the other room or something. Ghosts don’t have feet, not really. And Edwin does his best, but his default is still to be as quiet as possible and not make a single sign that he exists at all. Back then, it had been fine, yeah? Just one of Edwin’s quirks that Charles had gotten used to. After Hell, though, it’s one of those things that drives Charles absolutely mental that he could never ever mention to Edwin ever. “Edwin mate, where have you gone? I promise I haven’t touched anything.” No answer. Charles is alone. Charles touches a cursed veil that makes Edwin disappear. He does not handle the separation well. My Notes: This is a recent addition to my favorites, but DAMN did it break my heart the first time. Seeing Charles freak out about not seeing Edwin initially was great, but then the angst continues and scratches the itch in my brain perfectly.

The Warmth of you By: Superfriki Rating: NR Tags: Sickfic, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: “Normally it’s me who gets us in dangerous situations by tripping on something. Don’t steal my thing, mate” Edwin weakly chuckled, sounding raspy “Excuse me, next time I will make sure I ask your permission before I fall face first into a toxic plant” - Aka Charles takes care of Edwin when he is sick and realizes some things along the way. My Notes: Features Edwin passing out and Charles using books to help him! Plus all the usual sick fic things that we all love (blankets, caring, reading, etc!)

The Way Back Home By: Author_By_Many_Names @steampunk-dandy Rating: M Tags: AU - Star Wars, Edwin is Force Sensitive, Charles is a piolet, Protective Charles Rowland, Protective Edwin Payne Summary: Whilst on a routine mission that slowly becomes less and less routine, Edwin realises he can't hide his feelings for Charles any more. Meanwhile, Charles wants Niko and C to get off the ship so him and Edwin can go back to their blissfully domestic lives. My Notes: Star Wars AU! The worldbuilding here is so well done and I love what the author did with each of the characters. Edwin being force sensitive in particular makes me very happy!

There's No Fixing Some Things By: qwanderer @qwanderer Rating: T Tags: Angst, Post-Canon Summary: "Stop that right now," Charles snapped. "You can't say that, Edwin, you can't." Edwin blinked at him, startled. "You said I could talk to you about anything," he said, quietly confused. "Well, not that," Charles said, standing up and hefting his bag. My Notes: The reason why Edwin can't say what he said will knock you over. It certainly made me have so many *feelings*

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nnooahhsworld · 9 months ago

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YANDERE HUSKER X MASC! READER WITH FLUCTUATING APPEARENCE

SUMMARY: Headcanons of “Yandere” Husk x Reader with fluctuating appearence.

FANDOM/CHARACTER/READER: Hazbin Hotel ;; Husker ;; Masc Reader.

PAIRING: Romantic or Platonic

WARNINGS: Stalking, manipulation, overprotective and Obssesed behavior, reader being kinda mentally unstable and insecure.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: love this request by @cupophrogs!! even if this isn't really yandere, i still wanted to implied it since that what's about my account.

✧ Honestly, I can't think of any other way you can meet Husk other than walking into the hotel and staying there.

✧ At first, you are insignificant to him (as ugly as that sounds). At first.

✧ I don't think Husk is someone who is very curious. Let alone gossipy. He's not nosy about other people's lives and tends to ignore them as long as they don't mess with him.

✧ Still, he is a great listener. He is willing to listen to others and gives good advice. I mean, he died while he was an old man, something he must have learned in his human life or in his life as an Overlord.

✧ Or after delivering his soul to the radio demon.

✧ But over time, he shows you more attention. I mean, the fact that your appearance and certain physical aspects of you change depending on your mood is intriguing.

✧ Because he has seen it. Everyone has seen it.

✧ You are someone with emotional problems, sensitive to a certain point. Your moods are constantly changing and therefore, certain characteristics of yours. That managed to capture his attention rather quickly.

✧ He is interested in these changes... how your teeth and fingers become sharper, your skin/fur becomes hard as scales and even your hair grows longer when you are angry and ready to attack.

✧ How your eyes get bigger, other smaller eyes appear and you can certainly shrink a little when you are startled by being off guard or feeling threatened or in danger.

✧ As your skin/fur grows and you lock yourself in it making yourself into a ball when you are sad and don't let anyone near you as your fingers sharpen to threaten anyone.

✧ As for that, Charlie really tries to help you. She wants to be there for you when you're down like your good friend but you shut down. With her, with everyone... except with Husk.

✧ Everyone opens up to some extent with Husk. Either because they're really drunk or they seriously need someone to talk to and Charlie isn't always the best, unfortunately.

✧ Let's remember that Husk knows everyone's problems in the hotel and sooner or later, he knows yours too. How you hate to overreact to anything, how you hate to see your appearance deform and become something horrible in your eyes because of your moods.

✧ Husk feels... pity. Although, after a while he becomes more overprotective as he forms a bond with you.

✧ At a certain point, understand your self-hatred as well, it's not nice that people in general are scared of you in general because of your mere appearance.

✧ Once he knows you beyond your problems, once he sees the sinner calm instead of angry, once he knows the real you, that's when his real obsession begins.

✧ Obsession that confuses with severe concern for you and becomes suffocating.

✧ He gets to the point of following you around when you're not in the hotel. You're not someone very powerful and you're in hell itself. Everyone is crazy and you'll never be safe there. Not unless he's in the shadows, watching you warily.

✧ You feel something strange in the air... eyes staring at you, your mind screaming at you that you are not as safe as you think and consequently, small eyes appear on your face and look everywhere desperate and scared, your fingers and fangs sharpen in any alert situation.

✧ Even inside the hotel, he watches discreetly and quietly. And that's one of the reasons why you're also a little more restless and cautious: you don't stop having that uneasy feeling no matter where you go.

✧ And you go to Husk for protection and the thought only gets worse once you get close.

✧ Husk wants you to only have confidence in him.... he doesn't like it when he notices you closer to Angel Dust, when you spend more time with Sir Pentious. And if you were to become close with Alastor, Husk would go crazy.

✧ His obsession with you turns him into a paranoid overthinker. What if he makes a deal with you? What if he steals your soul? What if he takes away your freedom? What if he takes you away from him?

✧ He puts his fear into your head indirectly. Subtle warnings, reminders of how dangerous Alastor is... whatever it takes to keep you safe.

✧ He also manipulates you into not trusting others. I mean, as jealous as he gets to feel, deep down he's happy to see you making friends. But shit, he's afraid that you won't trust him anymore, that you'll stop going to him for comfort, that he won't be the only one who sees through you anymore.

✧ So go ahead, bare your fangs and claws at the others but open your arms to him... only him.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin husker #husk hazbin hotel #husk x reader #husk x male reader #hazbin hotel x reader #male reader #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere requests #yandere #x male reader #vivziepop

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tj-dragonblade · 2 months ago

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[FIC] Good Luck Charm

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: G Word Count: 3059 Tags: MerHob x Human Dream AU, merman Hob, human Dream, canon role reversal, pre-relationship, treating minor injuries, brief inexplicit mention of blood, handwavy marine medical science, including such highly technical terms as 'goo'

Notes: This fills @dreamlingbingo square C2 - Almost Caught combined with October monthly prompt Injury Recovery. This is set within a MerHob AU that I have yet to actually write or publish anything else in; I've done my best to keep it sense-making and easy to follow but there are also notes on the AU at the end, for the curious.

Summary: When Dream's merman friend is late to their usual meeting, Dream is worried. And with good reason, as it turns out.

On AO3

Dream is beginning to worry. His sea-stranger usually shows up just before sunrise when they meet, but sunrise was half an hour ago and there has been no sign of him. Dream paces the ankle-deep water of the cave out in the middle of White Horse Bay, agitation building in his blood; he doesn't know where or how he could even begin to look for his friend if necessary, has no way to contact or find him save meeting here. He doesn't even have a name, let alone any idea where to find others of his friend's kind to ask after him.

He's fairly certain he, being human, would not be well-received regardless.

If something has happened to his friend, odds are Dream will never know. And the thought distresses him.

It's nearing an hour past sunrise when his friend finally surfaces quietly at the mouth of their cave, and the relief Dream feels is immense.

"You're late," he smiles, a gentle tease, but any lightness vanishes as soon as he takes in his friend's expression.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," the merman grits back, his usual bright grin greatly marred by the pain in his face. He doesn't hoist himself into the cave as usual, either. "Ran into a bit of trouble further out. Could use your help, actually." He shifts in the water, floats up on his side, and Dream gasps.

There's a sizeable gash along his friend's left flank, angling behind him, orange scales and blue spots clouded by a sluggishly seeping red. It doesn't look deep, thankfully, and it's maybe half the length of Dream's forearm; plenty big, certainly, but also not as bad as it might have been. "What happened?" he breathes, dropping to sit on the edge of the cave floor, knees tucked into the water next to his friend's injured tail.

"It's stupid, really," the merman says, grimacing as he twists to pull his carry-bag out of the water. It's laden with various types of kelp, Dream sees as it's hoisted onto the barely-submerged rock floor. "Got distracted out past the reef, looking for—well. Wasn't paying attention the way I should and I ran into the fishing nets. While they were being reeled in, mind, and I kind of panicked. Had to cut my way free and I sliced myself in the process." He grins, sheepish and still clearly pained. "Like I said. Stupid."

"Unfortunate, perhaps," Dream offers. "An accidental injury while in fear for one's life is hardly stupid. How do we treat this?"

His friend nods toward the bag, one hand on the rock floor to keep himself anchored as he floats. "Kelp. The fluffy one helps to stop the bleeding and prevent infection; numbs it up a bit too. The lacy one will stick to my scales if it's smeared with the goop in the nodules from the other one. I just can't really reach it properly by myself without another set of hands—ow." He grimaces as he bumps gently against the rock wall next to Dream's knees.

"I'll help, of course," Dream says, immediately. "Tell me what to do?"

"Thank you," his friend says, rolling a little in the water to bring the injury to the surface. "Just burst the little goo pods onto the lacy one and spread it around the edges. Then we put the fluffy one right on the wound and stick the lacy one over it to hold it in place."

"Tell me if I do it wrong," Dream murmurs, sorting the kelp from his friend's bag and doing as instructed. The liquid in the pods is slick and spreads easily, not at all sticky, but he trusts his sea-stranger knows what he's talking about.

"Here, I've got this," the merman says, voice tight as he lays a sprig of the fluffy kelp over his wound, which is still bleeding sluggishly. "Just slap the other over to hold it in place?"

Dream nods, leaning down enough to spread the goo-slathered seaweed over the kelp-covered wound. It adheres immediately to the scaled surface of his friend's tail, and Dream is fascinated despite himself at what must be a natural chemical reaction between the kelp goo and the glyco-protein coating on his merman's scales.

"Thank you," his friend says, as they smooth the 'bandage' into place. "Definitely easier with more hands." He grins, brighter than a moment ago. "Usually I'd have gone to the healer back home but I was already halfway here and later than usual."

Dream is struck by the unspoken sentiment under those words, touched that their meetings are as important to his sea-stranger as they are to him. "I would never fault you for putting your health and personal safety above keeping our appointment," is what he says aloud, though, because that is the most sensible reply.

That bright yellow tail fin flicks in the water and his friend reorients his body upright again, tucks a long tendril of wet hair behind his ear fin and fiddles briefly with the lowest spine of it. "'Course not, but then I wouldn't get to see you until next time. And. And I wouldn't want you to be worried because I didn't come."

"I appreciate that," Dream says, unable to lie about not worrying when he had been fretting incessantly the full hour his friend had been absent. "And I am. Glad, that you were not hurt more seriously." He frowns slightly. "Was that your only injury?"

His friend looks thoughtful, taking mental stock of his body, Dream supposes. A frown mars the merman's forehead and he twists a bit, peering behind. He drops beneath the surface and makes an elegant wriggling loop in the water, flaring his dorsal fin.

"Ah, sharksacs," he mutters, head popping out of the water again. "Tore my backfin, too. That'll be a pain."

Dream can see it, now, the sunny yellow membrane split where it oughtn't be, extending about halfway from the top edge down toward his friend's body, just above where skin turns to scales.

"Does it hurt?"

"A bit, now that I'm aware of it. I would have noticed eventually. It's not bad, but the real trick is to keep it from splitting further while it heals—when it gets down to skin that's when it really hurts."

"Will a kelp bandage not work?"

"Too heavy on the fins—needs to be more flexible, lighter."

"And if you shift into your legs, what happens to the wounds?"

"This one will still be there," he says, gesturing to the bandage they've just applied. "The fin tear will be…it's weird, when I change, my fins disappear but I can still feel them?"

"Phantom fins?" Dream interjects, fascinated, and his friend nods agreement.

"That's a good way to describe it, yes. So I still feel them—but no, they won't be magically healed when I change back."

"Hm." Dream is combing through his mental index of human first aid techniques; surely there must be something he can offer? He's got dissolving sutures courtesy of his sister; he could offer to sew the tear together? Then again, it seems inadvisable to poke several more holes in the delicate membrane with the aim of closing the original wound; he has sudden visions of an entire chunk of sutured fin tearing loose at the stitches. No. But perhaps—

"I might have a solution," he says, leaning to grab his waterproof bag before dropping into the sea next to his friend. "Wait here? I need to retrieve the first aid kit from my boat." And barely waiting for an answer, he strikes out, back to where he's anchored close by. It's quick work to find the first aid kit among his supplies and zip it into his bag, and then he's swimming back round the big rock formation in the bay to their cave.

"You swim fast, for a human," his friend says upon his return, with the same cheeky grin that accompanies those words every time he says them, and Dream can't help his own little smile in return. He hoists himself back onto the cave floor with a bit more effort than it took earlier this morning, thanks to the retreating tide.

"The liquid in these pods," he begins, picking up one of the remaining kelp strings with several nodules still full along its stem. "It reacts with the protective layer on your skin to get sticky, right? Will it do the same on your fin?"

"Yeah, but like I said, the kelp is too heavy and not flexible enough for use on fins."

"I've got something," Dream announces, pulling out his kit and opening it up, "that we can stick across the split, to hold it together? It's meant to dissolve on its own, after four to six weeks in humans. We don't live in water, though, so it may be a lot quicker for you."

"The fin only needs three-four days to heal up, if it doesn't split more," the merman says, leaning up to peer into the kit. "What're you thinking?"

"If we spread the kelp juice along the tear, and set short lengths of the suture thread across it, do you think it would hold without tearing you further, or causing irritation, or any other complications?"

"I don't know for certain, but it's a smart idea, I think—I've seen a healer do something similar with different stuff when a buddy of mine got a fin tear really bad once, yeah. Let's try it."

The water level is perfect, lapping barely above the height of the floor now; Dream is still seated on the edge and his friend is floating sideways in the water again, back turned to Dream with his dorsal fin flared just below the surface. He's gathered his hair out of the way, up over his shoulder, and Dream is shameless in his appreciation for the sculpted skin and muscle inadvertently on display. His friend is built lean and sleek, beautifully toned from a lifetime of swimming; the way the fin rises so prettily from his spine, fans out between its rays in a delicate spray of color against the warm hue of his skin—

"Can you reach it like this?" His friend is glancing back over his shoulder at him.

Dream blinks, feels himself flushing just a little and shifts his focus, sets to work. "Yes." The tear is very much in evidence and Dream bursts one of the seaweed pods, spreads the liquid carefully along the torn edges. He's got several short lengths of the suture thread cut and ready; he gently holds the fin together beneath the water with one hand and starts sticking the threads along the injury, perpendicular to the split.

"Thank you, for trusting me to help," Dream says as he works, because he is not blind to it.

His friend makes a sound that conveys exactly the little smile that's on his face, even if Dream can't see it from behind him. "Thank you for helping," he replies. "Still can't believe I got tangled in the nets. It's embarrassing, a spawning mistake; I know better."

"Everyone has their moments of distraction," Dream offers. "I'm glad you weren't hurt worse." He lays the last suture along the top edge of the fin, and marvels at how well it adheres. "All done. Do you want me to braid your hair, to keep it from getting stuck in the glue?"

"Oh, good idea." His friend rolls and loops beneath the surface, coming upright in the water again with a grimace, one hand pressing briefly at the kelp bandage on his flank and the other still holding his hair forward over his shoulder. "I'll have to let it down again once the goo's set, hide your work so I don't get questions about it, but that would be really smart until then."

That…had not occurred to Dream. "It's not going to get you in trouble, is it? I did not think, I apologize—"

"It'll be fine," the merman assures him, lifting and presenting his gathered hair. "If your thread works like we think it will, I can introduce it to the healer and it'll be one more way we can benefit from the world Above. I just can't go revealing that I let a human see me in my true form—I certainly couldn't have patched up that fin by myself after all—or I'll cause a panic."

"I should have asked first—"

"You did ask," his friend cuts in, and waggles the mass of wet hair at him. "Braid?"

"Of course, yes." Dream resolves to be more mindful of this sort of discretion going forward and sets to work.

It's wonderful to be able to touch all that hair, as he's wished to for ages, to run his fingers through the length of it as he weaves a loose braid over his friend's shoulder, keeping it clear of the sticky injured fin behind. It is also thrilling, to have his hands so close to the pretty face that features so often in his dreams; he is both relieved and disappointed as the braid progresses. His friend is watching him as he works, dark eyes flitting between his face and his hands, comfortably silent, and Dream feels wonderfully, contentedly warm in his quiet attraction as he weaves the braid. It doesn't take long, and then he coils it atop his friend's head and secures it with a pair of takeaway chopsticks from his first aid kit (he'd had the idea that they might be good makeshift splints but hair sticks is probably a better use for them).

"Perfect, thanks," his friend says once he's finished; he moves his head back and forth, feeling out the balance and weight difference of all that wet hair piled atop his skull.

"Did you find what you were searching for, out past the reef?" Dream asks, watching him; he tries not to stare overmuch, but between the loose updo and the fully-exposed ear fins and his friend's naturally beautiful face, he's finding it difficult.

"I did," the merman says, eyes taking on a look of hopeful trepidation that piques Dream's curiosity. "It's in my bag there, if you want to grab it for me."

Dream pulls the bag over; his friend takes it, rummages through it. "Here you go," he says, and holds out a small shell. "I found it for you."

"For me?" Dream takes it, turns it round in his fingers, marveling. It's nothing he can readily identify but not unlike a cowrie shell, a smooth glossy grey shot through with veins of pearly blue and purple color that glow in the sunlight. "It's beautiful."

"I wanted you to have one," his friend says, toying with the lowest spine of one ear fin. "They're a bit on the uncommon side, can only be found in limited areas at certain times of year when the young molt their shells and grow their adult skins. So they're something of a good luck charm, to us. Thought it might not hurt, having something from the ocean meant to keep you safe while you're doing your research in it."

"That's very thoughtful," Dream says, absurdly touched. "Thank you—I will carry it with me every time I dive."

"Well, good. That's good then," his friend says, and Dream can't be sure but it almost looks like the edges of his yellow fins are blushing toward orange, down in the shadows of the water.

"Perhaps you might have benefited from such a shell of your own, to help you avoid the nets altogether," Dream says then, daring enough to tease, and the merman grins, bright as the sun.

"The way I see it, it was good luck to get free in short order with minimal injury. So it's been tested under real-life conditions—had to confirm it was viable before giving it to you, didn't I?"

"Of course," Dream smiles, smitten by the easy optimism his friend always seems to have at hand. "And again. I thank you." He tucks the shell into the inner zip pocket of his swim trunks, where it will stay secure.

The merman dips in the water, turns a happy back loop and resurfaces, face tipped up; the work Dream did on his hair holds true. "Thank you for your help patching me up," he says. "Much easier getting home without an open wound giving me problems. Don't think I'll be hopping up there to join you, though; best if it stays in the water."

"Of course," Dream answers, not surprised nor even really disappointed. He enjoys sitting close beside his friend and sharing human food, yes, but there is also great pleasure in watching him in his natural element, the muted gleam of the sun on his scales through the water, the way his fins drift and sway in micro currents, the natural fluid ease in every movement.

Beautiful.

"So, what human delicacy have you brought me today?" his friend says then, and Dream purposefully redirects his thoughts.

"A highly divisive specimen, to be sure," he begins, pulling his waterproof tote close and rummaging in it. "Many humans love this food but many hate it, as well."

"And which side do you fall on?"

Dream gives him a small smile. "I have my favorite flavors." He withdraws a rectangular mylar packet and holds it up triumphantly. "Today, I bring you pop tarts." ~

Later, back at the house his team is staying at, once he's bid a good night to Matthew and Jessamy and retired to his room, Dream takes the shell out. It's still beautiful by electric light, and the sentiment behind it fills him with a soft warmth. His friend, his beautiful sea-stranger, has given him a thoughtful gift. More than that, he had gone to effort for it, had encountered danger; Dream recalls the way he had said he was distracted, to be caught in the fishing nets, and his heart fills with an odd blend of guilt and delight at the idea that his friend may have been so distracted on account of him, of bringing him this gift.

And he wonders, with the faintest ember of something like hope, if perhaps the deep regard he has for his sea-stranger might not be one-sided after all.

= Started: 9/6/24 Drafted: 9/16/24 Posted: 10/1/24

Notes on this AU:

There are a handful of possible reasons Hob hasn't given Dream his name yet; I haven't settled on which makes the most sense. (The Doylist reason is obviously just flipping the canon dynamic between them)

Dream Jessamy and Matthew are a team doing nebulous marine-biological Research™ (under direction/funding from Lucienne at the university back home) in a nebulously-coastal-Australian locale (because of the fish Hob is based on). I have put more effort into developing Hob's mer-culture than trying to make him 'sound' local; my apologies to the Australians in the audience

Hob's mer-form is springboarded from the leopard coral trout (see pic below) His tail is the vibrant orange with the blue spots; they can have phosphorescence when he's swimming in shadows if he needs/wants them to. His fins are all bright sunny yellow (and much longer, flowier) and he does have a dorsal fin running from between the lower edges of his human shoulder blades to just past his fish 'butt'; the fin can be collapsed close to his body and the rays are flexible also so sitting human-style is not an issue

He can change colors along the edges of his fins; this is a mating behavior and indicator of interest

Dream is unaware of these facts

Hob is still hairy, thanks to Selkie blood in his family tree (which also grants him greater ease in shifting to human form than other merfolk)

The cave they regularly meet in is in a rock formation in White Horse Bay (not a real place afaik) and the opening faces away from shore, affording privacy (the bay is not a popular beach spot anyway). It also faces east for optimal sunrise viewing. Tidal range averages around three meters. At highest tide the cave floor is a foot or two underwater; at lowest tide Dream could still safely dive out if needed (but wouldn't be able to climb back in until the tide comes in again). Dream takes a small boat intended for the team's use in their research and anchors it in the bay nearby and swims over to the cave

Hob has wandered transformed among humans for short periods, mostly to secure goods useful to his community, but learning little bits of human culture is a nice bonus. He's never really tried their food, though, so that is one of the primary things that Dream will bring him

#TJs Fics #Sandman #Dreamling #wip: MerHob

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signanothername · 4 months ago

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Ough, I'm wondering I know I know we should try and figure out ourselves BUT im wondering. Are you soul colors you use for color's flame in your comic hold any significance? I'm not sure if I'm just... overanalyzing things. Especially since there's a shift to a rainbow to more solid soul color switches from the first few panels to the other ones. Thanks!

Nah I’m actually glad you asked cause I actually love when people analyze the shit outta my comics, it makes me so happy cause i actually love to put all sorts of details in them gdgdgdgdh

I was even planning on replying to your tags cause they were so good dhdhhdh but i might as well use your ask to do so

And in fact, Color’s soul colors do hold a very big significance! I specifically chose the color depending on how Color is feeling or depending on the situation that’s happening ( this is far from what’s actually canon for Color, as the shape of the flame is actually what gives hints about his emotions in canon, so take the colors changing as simply a headcanon i love jdhdhdhhd)

Color starts with a rainbow cause he’s on a hike, he’s feeling all sorts of emotions (I headcanon that Color loves hiking) but it also represents that Color isn’t feeling one emotion strongly over others

Then when he sees Nightmare, the colors turn to a solid color one at a time, but if you look closely you realize the colors i chose are specific to the situation

Here’s an example

When color talks about whether Killer wanted “payback” I specifically chose yellow cause it’s the justice soul in Color, then it changes to blue when Color tells Killer that he loves him more, and blue is for integrity, then it turns to orange when he tells Nightmare about Killer’s message to him cause it requires bravery to say such things to the likes of Nightmare, and so on the colors keep changing to suit the situation throughout the comic >:)

And allow me to reply to your tags here (they’re so good i love them sm dhhdhdhhd)

And thank you for liking his design shdhhzh i just really wanted to draw him with a different outfit, especially since he’s on a hike, a lil adventure if you will, so i wanted to have him be pretty <33333

And as for the clasp it was honestly unintentional hdhzhsh but now that you mention it I definitely need to have Color wear all sorta things that point to his besties, idk i feel like Color would be the type to do that a lot dhhxhxhxh

And i’m glad you called Nightmare pathetic actually cause that’s what i was aiming for, Nightmare is feeling like a lil frightened kid again >:)

AND YESSSSSS like when i was making the comic, Color calling Killer to ask if it’s ok was so damn important to me, like Color is that kinda person y’know? He tries to take into consideration so many things before he acts, he thinks about things and keeps thinking and thinking, Color is emotionally intelligent and his consideration of everything is why i love to think Color gets burned out sometimes, that being said, Color would absolutely think about Killer first before he acts, and while he obviously wants to help Nightmare where he can (despite disliking Nightmare cause he’s selfless like that <333) his bestie comes first <3333333

AND THANK YOU FOR NOTICING THESE DETAILS EEEEEEEEEE

As for the big hand, YAS!!! It’s Canon! Color has 2 other weapons besides his blaster! It’s mentioned in Color’s official ref sheet! (Warning for flashing colors!) But the fandom doesn’t portray it often unfortunately (including me I’m guilty of that) that’s why I really wanted to include it in the comic! :D

And yessssss!! I aimed for Nightmare to look extremely exhausted by the end, I really wanted to show how enduring 500 years of cruelty did to him hdhdhhdhd

And yessss Color is that kinda person, he wants to help where he can, and I mentioned it in a convo with a friend here hdhdhdh

And actually thank you for connecting Color’s design to carebears i love them dhhdhzhhz (the design wasn’t inspired by them i just did it on a whim but i’m so glad it reminded you of carebears actually hdhshs)

#anothers ask #othertale #dreamtale #color sans #nightmare sans

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lookingfts · 2 months ago

Text

Friday Fic Rec 10/4

Thanks as always for your submissions! Titles are links to each fic.

The Swap by VioletTimes

“It’s an AU with an almost Beauty and the Beast type of vibe. The writing is excellent and the slow burn is masterful.”

Description: Anthony Bridgerton is the most powerful Duke in England and likely its next king. But since he came back from the war his reputation is less than stellar. Considered to be both a brilliant strategist and a ruthless monster, all of England is afraid of him and the Sheffield sisters are no exception. So when Edwina is forced to be sent to marry the monstrous Duke, Kate doesn't even hesitate before swapping places to protect her sister from such a horrible fate.

WIP (9/39) - E - 43k words

loyal to what matters by @suitsusboth

“This fic is so well-written! The author is amazing at world-building. It’s a slow burn between Kate and Anthony, but totally worth it.”

Description: Anthony Bridgerton is an outlaw and had been riding with the Brunswick-Lüneburg gang for years now. They are his family-- a family that took him and his siblings in when they had no other place to go. But one big heist gone terribly wrong had them on the run, the law closing in on them like never before. Many forces work against the gang as they try to fix things in the aftermath as they are chased across the states-- gaining and losing friends alike. Loyalty is the cornerstone of their gang. But as things start to unravel, and as the alluring and equally infuriating Kate Sharma starts to shine light on aspects of his lifestyle, Anthony has to figure out what is worth being loyal to... and what it might cost in the end.

WIP (6/?) - M - 52k words

The Air I Breathe and The Bane of My Existence by the_loosest_moose

“Two separate stories, both creative modern takes on season 2's (not the book's) storyline. Also, these are textfics with accessible counterparts, so it took a hell of a lot of work to put these together on top of writing the actual story. I dream of this author coming back to write for this fandom.”

Description (The Air I Breathe): Anthony Bridgerton is a typical NYC hotshot attorney – self-important, tenacious, and highly promiscuous. He’s casually dated for years, but he’s getting older and is thinking about settling down. Enter Kate Sharma. She’s a brilliant special education lawyer, and though she’s entirely career-oriented herself, she’s trying to help her younger sister Edwina get back into the dating scene after ending a long relationship. Anthony and Edwina meet, and Edwina is immediately charmed. Unfortunately, Kate suspects that Anthony is not the kind, gentle person he pretends to be. Though Anthony and Edwina begin dating, things start getting complicated when Anthony and Kate realize they may have feelings for each other.

Complete - E - 61k words (accessible version 94k words)

Description (The Bane of My Existence): Kate Sharma and Anthony Bridgerton both have high stress jobs. When friends/family force each of them to attend a week-long silent meditation retreat to relax, neither takes it seriously (or is very happy about it). After a few flirty exchanges between them, things get steamy, and they try to make the most of their otherwise frustrating week. Though they part ways expecting their time together to have been no more than a fling, when they return home, it becomes apparent that Kate and Anthony aren’t the total strangers they thought they were.

Complete - E - 64k words (accessible version 104k words)

Remember the Time by Anonymous

Description: I read PonderRose's The Son Between Us and wondered how it would play out in the show.

WIP (12/?) - NR - 78k words

Trying not to love and We are family by HarnitBee

Description (Trying not to love): Anthony confronts Kate about their feelings, desperate to not feel anything.

Complete - G - 4k words

Description (We are family): What if the Sheffields weren’t horrible and agreed to the marriage and got Kate's father a post in England?

Complete - G - 10k words

hate to say I told you so by itsthebooks and KyBee1497

Description: A good old fashioned game of Truth or Dare mixed with Seven Minutes in Heaven brings Kate Sharma and Anthony Bridgerton a lot closer to each other than they ever wanted to be.

Complete - E - 9k words

LFTS rec: Weary Memory by @fitrahgolden

I have a difficult time reading divorce fics in general, but I gave this one a shot and I loved it. There’s a bit of angst, but the reasons for the breakup make sense and so does their coming back together. There’s something super sweet about this Kate and Anthony and I’ve revisited it multiple times.

Description: After eleven years of marriage, Kate and Anthony find themselves divorced and co-parenting their three kids.

Complete - M - 20k words

Thanks to those who submitted! This will be a weekly thing, so keep your recs coming! You can find previous weeks under the "lfts fic recs" tag.

#lfts fic recs #bridgerton #kanthony #kate x anthony #anthony x kate #bridgerton fic

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huggywuggysuppy · 7 days ago

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I need your thoughts on gem and pearls shinyduo divorce/complicated relationship. Is it pride stopping them, is it past grudges? This really is the divorce season. Next wild card is just divorce papers

I am SO glad you asked. Short answer, based on what we see in session 5, Gem is letting go of her grudge while Pearl is starting to get one. Punished for her actions in SL that weren't really wrong, yet urged by her allies to let that unreasonable treatment go, Pearl is making an effort to move on anyway. However, Gem is doubling down, playing nice while still considering the G's her enemy. Passing off her aggression as a whim: simply wanting to hurt Pearl for the sake of it. Faced with that, of course Pearl doesn't want to be allies (or remarried, as it were.) They've been enemies for too long in WL to go back, at least until one dies by the other's hands.

LONG answer, well, this got away from me. Here we go!

Pearl has infinite patience when it comes to Gem. Even in SL, when Gem had killed her and her allies over and over again, Pearl remained on friendly terms. Throughout WL, Gem's been tormenting, plotting against, and generally antagonizing Pearl throughout, for a vague grudge that Pearl doesn't agree she's at fault for. But she's no stranger to working with her enemy, and if Gem's willing to forgive, so is she.

Ultimately, Gem's grievance with Pearl is that she thought they were closer in SL, but Pearl didn't feel the same. They worked together to cull the server, pretty enthusiastically on both ends, only for her to choose someone else at the end. As others have written, "WE could've 2v1'd Scar." From there, it's just Pearl not apologizing or validating that she hurt Gem, because Pearl doesn't believe she did anything wrong. Unfortunately for everyone involved, the rest of the server (and fandom) generally took Gem's side, so Pearl had to fight to get her side of the story out.

VERY brief summary of Pearl's perspective: Gem was her enemy for most if not all of SL. Murder Camel and the Mounders/G&TS in session 9 were fun, but tactical. She was never seriously allied with Gem. Meanwhile she had beef with Scar, because who didn't, but he generally sided with the Mounders throughout SL and chose their side in the faceoff. Honestly, her only crime was consorting so much with the enemy: making Gem think she forgave her when she hadn't. Killing Gem at the end was the natural catharsis for being enemies, satisfying Pearl, but it came as a surprise betrayal on Gem's end.

(Everyone playing nice with Gem mostly for her tactical value is it's own post, but I digress.)

Gem knows the SL thing isn't 100% Pearl's fault, and that she chose violence instead of giving Pearl a chance to defend herself without an audience. It took Pearl pulling her aside and spelling out everything one on one before Gem finally chilled out. Nobody in Life handles conflict appropriately, and we don't ask them too. But that's it. The end. They've cleared the air, right? I mean, Gem hasn't admitted out loud exactly why she's so hurt at the 2v1, and Pearl's allies still consider backing her up "enabling" instead of support, but they've mostly talked it out. Why couldn't we get another Murder Camel, or remarriage, or at least some mutual server terrorization?

There's 5 episodes of consequences to work out.

I said at the beginning that Pearl is patient with Gem. But I lied. Pearl is always willing to hear Gem out and be civil, if not friendly. That was the whole problem in SL: that Pearl was nice and worked with Gem even though they were still enemies in her mind. But Pearl doesn't easily forgive, and will never ally with someone who has wronged her. In DL, when they were being hunted she still split off from the divorce quartet, even though it was super dangerous, because they'd hurt her and still showed no remorse for it. She's intensely loyal, and extraordinarily honest. Once again, Gem's worked against and hurt Pearl, and she's not gonna let that go.

For the most part, Pearl hasn't retaliated against Gem's revenge. She's badgered her and been a nuisance, encouraged others to target Gem, and half-heartedly attempted a couple traps. But she hasn't chased her down, railed others against her, or even strongly denounce Gem beyond defending herself. At least, not yet. The way things are moving, the G's and the Family will outwardly clash soon enough, especially since Pearl is their red "guard dog." Pearl's coming up on her chance. And she's running out of reasons to hold back.

Catharsis in Life Series usually comes from a final kill. Grian killing Scar in the cactus circle resolved their complicated relationship for 3rd life. Scar winning SL cleared any real grievances others held for him that series, and vice versa -- he's not a villain anymore. This goes double for betrayals and enemies. Without a final kill, the grudge festers: extending into other seasons such as Cleo with BigB or Joel with Scott. They need to "get even."

Pearl is famously denied that finality. She was left hanging for a proper goodbye to Scott in Last, where her lives/death helped him win, then wronged even further in DL. And his suicide at the end robbed her of releasing all her resentment and pain. Even in WL, she tells Scott that what she really wants is a proper 1v1. But in SL, Pearl was able to kill Gem, who had been terrorizing her and her team all season. They've gotten even. But in doing so, she accidentally created a new grudge, and the balance is off again.

Unfortunately, Gem's grievance is a final kill. So, it carries over into the next season. Many players start a season with "I want this person to win," but it's rare to have "I want this person to die." That's part of why the divorce seems so off. Gem is responding to the pain from SL, and Pearl is reacting to that with fresh aggression. The cycle continues until one of them acts and the other decides they're even.

Gem knows all of this. She knows they can't walk back the divorce, that she's gone too far and they can't make up this time. And she's having fun with it. She's playing nice, which the server is all too willing to enable since it's seems safer, while having the same hostile intentions. Telling Pearl to take one of Scott's lives and assassinating Cleo is the most obvious, but so is buttering up Scott while planning to trap him with Jimmy. While Pearl slowly boils, trapped in this horrible pseudo-forgiveness, Gem keeps poking and prodding. And because of their talk, when Pearl retaliates she will look like the aggressor.

So to answer your ask, anon, the divorce can't be undone, at least not in this season. It's not pride so much as hurt: they haven't forgiven each other -- for SL or WL -- and won't until they're even. I don't know if they've consciously realized that yet, and very well might continue on in a weird limbo, or even ally at the very end Murder Camel style. But they certainly haven't resolved anything yet.

Something wicked this way comes...

(And I'd be remiss if I didn't talk about the Meta-narrative aspect. Both CC's are amused by and noticeably pushing for the divorce narrative. While I do think their C's have genuine beef over WL now at least, if not the 2v1, it's exaggerated and ultimately just fun for the CC's to rp out. Also, everyone in Life Series is a bit awkward/forced the first time they start drama with someone. I've mentioned elsewhere but Gem started divorce drama with Pearl "Expert Divorcee" Moon as her first, so part of the imbalance is figuring out how to tell that story. Pearl is putting in the legwork on her end and Cleo "Expert Friend Of Divorcees" called out that Gem needs a reason, so she just has to put the pieces together and make her case out loud.)

(Personally, I think she really could pursue "Still hung up about SL and wants an apology/catharsis, but won't admit it especially now that she's overreacted, so now playing nice while trying to sabotage her." Imagine the quiet confessions to Joel about how she's still angry, and the tearful "why are you doing this to me?" "because I lied! I'm still mad you hurt me!" And it would fit SUPER well into Pearl's ongoing story with Scott downplaying his own mistakes. Both grievances happened because Pearl misunderstood the other person's feelings (Gem thought they were closer in SL, Scott was hurt by Pearl's disregard for finding him in DL), which means Pearl is the villain in both, at least to them. But we'll see what happens next week :D)

Thanks for the ask, and for reading all this! I do believe shinyduo are at their best when they're enemies. And I think they know that too.

#do you think cleo's arm gets tired wiping the tears of all their divorced friends #the smajor cleo divorce will never happen but imagine the role reversal. pearl as the one caught in the middle #trafficblr #ask #wild life spoilers #shiny duo #analysis #life series #divorce papers wildcard and im hoping for mandatory couples counseling aka the DL soulmates twist again #but Grian deliberately chooses the pairs based on current messy dynamics so shinyduo. cleo/bigb. etc.#gonna fight reddit for convincing the cc's DL is unpopular. just look at everyone wanting soulmate wildcards!#the people long for complex dynamics and classic tragedy

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novantinuum · 5 months ago

Text

[Updated 11/06/24]

I've written a kinda ridiculous amount of content for this fandom at this point, so this post is intended as a fun way to organize all that content on this blog. I'll update this post periodically as I share more works.

Most of my works are gen fic- with a heavy focus on character study and "bridging the gaps" of canon with lil bonus scenes of what I feel certain characters might've been up to in between episodes. However, I do on occasion enjoy exploring the Connverse relationship dynamic... and actual ratings for my stories vary.

Ratings and pairings will be listed on this masterpost, as well as any particularly vital content warnings. For more thorough content warnings, please reference the tags on the linked AO3 listings.

~~~

Multichapter AUs:

Crack The Paragon Series

Series Summary:

In the wake of an ill-fated discovery, Steven vies to pick up all the pieces. The Gems are in turmoil: Pearl can’t speak the truth, Garnet chose to separate, and Amethyst's confidence has hit rock bottom. Somehow, his mom is Pink Diamond. But what exactly does that mean for him? Why did his mom really choose to fake-shatter herself and obscure her identity? With the very foundation of his home life shifting around him, can Steven ever hope to find answers on his own? Or will his growing obsession with seeking this truth ultimately crack his world all over again? Canon divergent as of season 3 episode 20, Bismuth.

Stories:

Crack the Paragon- 70,705 words, 14/41 chapters. Rated T. Light Steven/Connie.

In another world, he doesn't have his mother's sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops. Steven falls apart.

Content warning: Major character injury.

Everything Is Different Now- 1,014 words. Rated G.

After her unfortunate exile, Bismuth returns to her forge to work, and to reflect on her mistakes.

Seeing Pink- 2,475 words. Rated G.

Following a video call with Connie, Steven reacts to the discovery that... his eyes aren’t always human anymore.

Misalignment- 16,680 words, 20/? chapters. Rated T.

His family’s not present the third time he runs away... They never see the creature he becomes. Early corruption AU.

Content warning: Minor body horror.

Hollowed Moon- 8,046 words, 14/? chapters. Rated T.

Stevonnie doesn't crash the Star Skipper onto that jungle moon. Instead, they crash on a craggy fragment of rock suspended thousands of miles away from its associated colony, long forgotten. On that lonely hunk of rock is a domed garden. And standing in that garden, just as lifeless seeming as the rest of it, is a pink Gem.

~~~

Other AU/Non-Canon Works:

For the purpose of organization, this section contains two fics that have since had elements of it debunked by Steven Universe: Future. However, said fics were written to be "canon compliant" at the time of posting... thus, on AO3, they still are listed within my "canon compliant" series.

Shattering Atlas- 4,274 words. Rated T.

A boy can only carry an entire galaxy upon his back for so long before the weight of it all finally becomes too much. (Written about the Corrupted Steven Theory, long before SUF's airing.)

Content warning: Depression, body horror.

The Price of Freedom- 791 words. Rated T.

Even while sightless, even when she only exists as thin fingers of light rapidly spreading outwards from her gem, Rose can sense that something is deeply, dreadfully wrong. Written for Whumptober 2020, Day 1: Waking up restrained.

Bi the Way...- 2,886 words. Rated T. Steven/Connie.

Connie has a question, and also something to say.

(Originally written to be canon compliant after the movie, debunked by Steven and Connie not officially getting together until the end of Steven Universe: Future.)

Errands- 3,034 words. Rated T.

Steven has an endless stream of items on his to-do list, so many that he often forgets to properly take care of himself in between. Sneaking off into the woods on the daily to vent out his repressed emotions is merely one of them.

(Originally written to fit between Snow Day and Little Graduation, but the back half of Steven Universe: Future strongly suggested that Steven did not visit Jasper in between the events of Little Homeschool and Fragments, thus I consider it debunked.)

~~~

Canon Compliant Works:

This part of the list contains almost everything within my "Brandishing the Star: A Crystal Gem's Guide to the Universe" fic series on AO3. Fics are listed chronologically.

Tipping Point- 1,104 words. Rated G.

Garnet helps remind Rose of what she's fighting for.

New Star- 1,321 words. Rated G.

Organic life is a fragile, fickle thing. This much is true. What's also true is how the death and resurrection of a humble lion was enough to make Rose Quartz re-conceptualize everything.

On the Origin of Hybrids- 1,684 words. Rated G.

The question— incomplete, and yet bursting with long-held curiosity— emerges from thin air while he’s about to tuck Steven into bed in the back of the van one night. In retrospect, no parenting book could’ve ever prepared him for this one.

His Shield- 334 words. Rated G.

Greg attempts to comfort his son during a thunderstorm.

Donut Debrief- 1,578 words. Rated G.

And like a burst of sunshine emerging from between the murky grey clouds, the young boy swings the door open wide, face alight with a level of enthusiasm that before, she didn’t even think was humanly possible on an overcast Monday morning. Two days after their disastrous island adventure, Sadie and Steven talk about regrets, making amends, and discover something they have in common with each other.

Autumn Bliss- 546 words. Rated G. Light Steven/Connie.

Is there any better way to spend a crisp autumn day than playing around in piles of leaves? Written for Connvember, day 1.

Alienation- 1,151 words. Rated G.

“But... I’m human,” he whispers to himself, the words tasting more like a desperate plea for belief on his tongue. “Or at least, part human. Right?” - An awkward interaction with his dad and Connie leads Steven to realize that he's now too Gem to all the humans in his life.

Ramen Soup For the Soul- 263 words. Rated G.

Steven and Connie noisily slurp some soup at the dinner table.

Creative Outlet- 837 words. Rated G.

“Log date, 7 14 9. “Today, the hybrid creature Steven attempted to further secure my loyalty by introducing me to a concept he calls... ‘music.’

Taste of Ordinary- 12,756 words. 2/3 chapters. Rated G. Light Steven/Connie.

"Connie, can we talk?" When a much needed moonlight conversation with his best friend turns into an attempted (and failed) "spring break" from all his responsibilities as a half-Gem, Steven must finally come to terms with the full truth of his heritage and all six thousand years of its consequences. Takes place between The Question and Made of Honor.

Outer Strife- 4,282 words. Rated T.

Connie clenches her fists at her sides, envisioning a world where she still feels the safe, comforting weight of Rose’s sword strapped upon her back. But instead, it’s the Crystal Gems’ darkest, most forlorn hour... and she’s absolutely useless to them. Is there anything she can do to aid them in this struggle, anything at all? (Or: the beach fight in Reunited, but from Connie's POV.)

Content warning: Panic attacks

Ballroom Etiquette- 2,809 words. Rated G.

As much as it pains him to admit it amidst all the boring protocol, Pearl is absolutely right. There’s no room for imperfection at a Homeworld Ball. In which Steven is publicly introduced to the Gems of Homeworld as Pink Diamond, and he experiences the first true stage fright of his life.

Finally Free- 1,653 words. Rated G.

Lapis genuinely doesn’t know how many hours (Days? Months? Years?) have passed when light finally graces her eyes once again.

Vulnerable- 730 words. Rated G.

Three words. Three little words, and the intergalactic conflict he‘d been training his whole childhood to defend against was over. But the hurt... he's not sure the hurt will ever go away.

Fifteen- 1,607 words. Rated G.

Every year, on the fifteenth day of the eighth month, Pearl runs away.

Cycles- 1,216 words. Rated G.

Amidst their danger-fraught mission to retrieve Pyrope and Demantoid's prisms, Pearl and Steven take a much needed break.

Freedom to Dance- 382 words. Rated G.

Stevonnie celebrates the first anniversary of Era 3 with their friends and reflects on how Homeworld has already changed.

Stardust- 618 words. Rated G.

White Diamond is testing out new terms of endearment. But no matter White’s intention with this little nickname, Steven doesn’t want it.

Contact- 16,002 words. 4/4 chapters. Rated T.

The first (and with any luck, only) time it happens, he’s almost 16.

Content warning: Major character injury.

Disconnected- 993 words. Rated T.

“What’s going on—?” he croaks to absolutely no one (weakened, vulnerable, alone, pathetic—), a jolt of fresh panic surging through his entire system. He’s never seen a gem flicker before. He has no idea what this means.

The Shatter Wish- 1,045 words. Rated T.

You’re 16 years and 2 months old (give or take a few days) when you finally realize you want to die. - (Steven's POV, second person)

Content warning: Depression, suicidal ideation.

Second Skin- 9,272 words. 12/12 chapters. Rated T.

Steven can’t help but dread the undefined cocktail of emotions that trigger this newest power... 12 shorts, each delving into Steven’s developing opinions and feelings about his “pink mode” in SUF.

Content warning: Light self harm, panic attacks

The Brother on the Other Side- 2,978 words. Rated T.

Lars has no idea what he was expecting the moment Steven texted him in the middle of the night to ask if he could come over, but being immediately tackled in an intense vice-grip of a hug the second he opened the door probably wasn’t it.

White Noise- 1,766 words. Rated T.

In which Steven opens up to Peridot a little about his anxieties surrounding his recent “pink episodes.” Peridot thinks she can help him determine the root cause of this problem, but Steven— marooned amidst age-old insecurities and his fears of hurting those he loves— still isn’t convinced he wants anyone’s help.

Content warning: Panic attacks

Like Clockwork- 509 words. Rated T.

Connie's got mountains of studying to do. (It's not just an excuse to avoid reminders of old traumas, of course it's not! Everything's fine.)

Fight the Future- 3,604 words. Rated T.

She’s poofed, he repeats to himself like a dying man’s mantra. She’s poofed. She’s stuck in the rubble, but she’s only poofed. She’s fine, and I’m fine, a-and— Above the scars of Steven's wreckage, thunder claps like mighty titans colliding in the heavens. (Or: what happens in the moments after Steven and Jasper's rematch.)

Oceans- 5,358 words. 6/6 chapters. Rated T.

Her fingers clutch onto the folds of his blanket with a protective fervor, but they’re still trembling. Stars, they’re trembling. Wordlessly, he understands. His are too. - A series of shorts detailing what might've happened in the moments after I Am My Monster, told from six different points of view.

Memoir of the Marks Unseen- 6,786 words. Rated T. Light Steven/Connie.

Steven’s messy self-corruption has scarred him in a manner that transcends the mere physical. Battling through suffocating waves of self-loathing and relapse, the path towards healing and acceptance is set to be his most challenging venture yet… but in a unexpected twist of fate, he eventually comes to find a cathartic solace in the tangible marks left behind.

Content warning: Depression, light body horror.

Intake- 6,427 words. 2/2 chapters. Rated T.

Steven fills out an important form.

Content warning: Depression, suicidal ideation.

Fear of Falling Apart- 1,961 words. Rated T.

Maybe it’s a bit selfish to wish for conflict in a time of relative peace, but right now Connie would give anything to face an opponent she could physically fight. A battle she could win. Because the fact of the matter is, no matter how stubbornly she might try, there’s no way she can fight off Steven’s inner demons for him. - In which Connie receives a panicked midnight phone call, and rushes to Beach City with Lion to try and help.

Content warning: Light body horror.

Ticklish- 2,675 words. Rated T. Steven/Connie.

In which Connie’s subconscious, innocent touch helps Steven realize just how nice the sensation of gentle fingertips gliding across the surface of one’s gem can be.

No Escape From the Weather- 5,756 words. Rated T.

Amidst an unusually stormy late summer’s day, Steven finally amasses the courage to confide in his dad about one of his greatest traumas.

Content warning: Panic attacks

Just a Little Something- 1,486 words. Rated T. Steven/Connie.

Steven surprises Connie with a handmade gift. Written for Glow Week 2024, for the prompt "Casual or Surprise."

(Our) Shadows Before the Dawn- 957 words. Rated T. Steven/Connie.

It's their nights that are the most difficult.

Content warning: Panic attacks

Advocate- 5,472 words. Rated T.

There’s more to this story, Lars can feel it brimming in his very bones. He can feel it squirming around in the tangled coils of his guts, a primal, virulent rot that threatens to consume him from the inside out. Something is off with Steven, something is distinctly wrong. And oh, does he hate being right. - When an unexpected visitor tumbles through the magic portal in his hair long after hours, breathless and bright pink, Lars must amass the courage to weather one of the most difficult conversations of his life.

Content warning: Depression, mentioned suicide attempt, panic attacks.

Tides of Renewal- 2,559 words. Rated T.

Now twenty years old and living on the other side of the country, Steven spends his morning relaxing on the beach, musing about his past, and having a chat with his dad.

Nightlight- 1,364 words. Rated T. Steven/Connie.

“So, wait— what you’re saying is that you want me… to glow for you—?” - In which a drowsy, throwaway comment inspires Steven to— fueled by Connie’s implicit trust and encouragement— test the very limits of his self-restraint.

~~~

OC Works:

This subsection is the home for any fics I post in my post-canon OC-centric series, "Echoes of Chalcedony." It follows the story of a young half-Gem named Jean Maverick and their journey towards learning about the Gem side of their heritage.

First Impressions- 11,026 words. 3/4 chapters. Rated T.

A young human-Gem hybrid- a soul yet unknown to the rest of the Crystal Gems- takes their first brave steps towards greeting their heritage firsthand.

~~~

NSFW Works:

Fics in this section will be posted on my NSFW AO3 alt, Astraliies. I personally consider some of them "canon" to my own extended fic universe, but they will not be sorted as official entries in my "Brandishing the Star" series due to rating.

It Takes Two- 2,865 words. Rated M. Steven/Connie.

It’s possible. The timing lines up. What Connie fears is one hundred percent possible. The problem is, a potential pregnancy this early into their relationship was absolutely not in their plans.

Content warning: Contains frank discussion of underage sex. Connie is 17.

knowing, loving, being- 21,450 words. 3/4 chapters. Rated E. Stevencest, Steven/Connie.

A uniquely charged encounter in Rose’s Room forces Steven to contend with matters of attraction and desire he never could have predicted for himself. To what extreme is he willing to journey in fulfilling these burgeoning fantasies? And in what ways will such an experience forever transform him? (One thing’s for sure, though… once Connie’s brought into the loop, the most intimate dynamics of their marriage will never be the same.)

Content warning: Selfcest, explicit sexual content

Love Handles- 7,178 words. Rated E. Steven/Connie.

In which a stray, innocuous comment from Connie pushes Steven to dedicate the bulk of his free time to ‘getting into shape.’ But when new stressors rise to challenge him, he begins to struggle to maintain this leaner, more muscular form for her. Not only that, but is this even the kind of body he desires for himself in the first place?

Content warning: Explicit sexual content, feeding kink

#su #steven universe #su fanfic #su fanfiction #nova rambles

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kitchenisking · 11 months ago

Text

It's January and the new year has started! I hope everyone had a great new year and that 2024 bring only good things our way! and please remember to leave a kudos and some love in the comments to our amazing writers in this amazing fandom! love you guys😘

Children's Tales by artemis69 - (Rating: G, Words: 4,690, sterek)

Be careful, little girl.

Don’t go causing troubles in Beacon Hills, little girl, because the Hales live there.

Keep away from Beacon Hills, little girl, or the Hales will destroy you.

-- Or: In a world where the Hales are alive and the protectors of the town of Beacon Hills, the humans politely fake ignorance of their not-really-human status, and they all live happily ever after.

Then Kate comes in.

Well.

Tries to.

in the waiting room by CoraRochester, ravenclawkward - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 29,753, sterek)

“So, uh,” Stiles said, peeling the crust away from his toast. It was barely darkened, smeared thickly with butter and orange marmalade, just like he always liked it. “I have tattoos, which is weird, because I’m like, clinically terrified of needles. Swooning, fainting, the whole nine yards.”

That made the corner of Derek’s mouth lift into something like a small smile before it quickly smoothed out flat and neutral again. “I know,” Derek said, lifting up his fork. Stiles looked at the back of Derek’s hand and saw it was dark with ink—an elaborate full moon, stark on Derek’s skin. “I did them.”

…

In which Stiles has amnesia and falls in love with his husband all over again.

Sweet Tooth by Spikedluv - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 24,866, sterek)

Derek Hale had returned to Beacon Hills and the ice cream place was reopening. “Best. Day. Ever,” Stiles told Scott.

Lessons in Humanity by exclamation - (Rating: Mature, Words: 40,234, sterek)

Fleeing from werewolves, Stiles comes face to face with Derek, a werewolf human in shape but animal in his mind. Stiles is terrified of being killed, but it seems Derek has decided Stiles would make a suitable mate. Unfortunately, his idea of a romantic gift is a dead animal on the doorstep. Stiles must help Derek remember what it is to be human... and figure out how to explain his new werewolf stalker to his dad.

Happiness is Effortless by clotpolesonly - (Rating: G, Words: 5,210, sterek)

Derek just wanted an excuse to run out on his date. A very public fight with the fiance he didn't know he had is not exactly what he was expecting, but he'll take it.

come with me by buckysharons - (Rating: Mature, Words: 2,657, sterek)

Derek turns his head to the loft door, messily shoving whatever he could into the large bag. He’d rearrange everything on his property in New York. In another loft, but one much nicer, one cleaned with his parents money.

There’s a slam of a door, a slam filled with so much anger it makes Derek jump, alarmed.

“You’re leaving?” Stiles roars. He’s not angry, no. He’s hurt. Derek could sense it on him and he had no idea why.

He puts on the brooding mask he always seemed to have on, but this time was different. Stiles could see right through him. Though something tells Derek that Stiles has been able to see through it for a while now.

“Why are you leaving?” Stiles continues, giving Derek no room for him to explain himself. He demands an answer. Like he’s done everything to deserve it.

Which he has.

“I can’t stay,” Derek says vaguely, swallowing.

Stiles didn’t- he couldn’t take that.

Next To You (You Tell Me What To Do) by mercury_caduceus - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 6,175, sterek)

"Derek had barely noticed that he was still kneeling in a foot of water. His knees were sore and he was freezing but none of that mattered. Not now. Not when Boyd’s lifeless body was laying in front of him, his blood still on Derek’s hands. Cora was sobbing and clinging to Boyd, making his heart break even more. He hadn’t thought that was possible, Boyd had become one of his best friends and now he had killed him. He closed his eyes, he couldn’t keep looking at the body laying in front of him. Stiles hand on his shoulder was the only thing keeping him from completely falling apart, but he knew he was about to snap." ---- Stiles helps Derek after Boyd dies.

After the Smoke Clears by sffan - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 3,062, sterek)

Stiles needs a peaceful space. Derek gives him what he needs.

Alchemy of Attraction by ravenclawkward, wanderingeyre - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 15,893, sterek)

Once the table is set up, Stiles picks up the box and starts pulling out beakers, a hot plate, some Erlenmeyer flasks, a bunsen burner, and a bunch of other equipment and laying them out on the table. The last things to come out of the box are sealed containers with labels.

Derek is starting to get a very bad feeling about this.

Frogs? by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 10,694, sterek)

“Catching frogs? This far into the pack lands? I’ll give you five seconds to tell me the truth before I rip your throat out. What is it that you want?”

“YOU! Alright?! I want you!”

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #stiles x derek #ficrec #fanfic #kitcheniskingficrecs

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neyafromfrance95 · 2 months ago

Note

Many shippers are moving on from haladriel. There is no fanfic or fanart from the second season. We have all given up.

no, not all, anon! sauron will always be writing and drawing that self-insert x galadriel fic even as he floats as an disembodied spirit!

lol, i mean, unfortunately, now we have the third of what we had in s1, fanworks-wise. which is sad bc haladriel has a great fan content potential.

but some big brained people shipped sauron x galadriel even before trop, so i don't see why people would stop shipping after a season of s/g mirroring each other, it being confirmed that galadriel has taboo feelings for sauron and that sauron is obsessed with galadriel and nothing will ever replace her for him.

tbh, this is why i say endless "discourses" and doom & gloom mentality are poisonous to a fandom's longevity. "how can you ship an immoral/dark ship?"' - link them this video essay, or better, remember the essay and don't feel the need to make excuses for yourself, so just ignore the rage baits! "but what about celeborn & celebrian?!" - don't care, period. "it is not lore-accurate!" - we are talking about trop and it's its own thing, period.

they don't kiss or become an official couple? hannigram wasn't freed from a "queerbait" accusations till the very final scene yet we still shipped it. each tried to kill the other, hannibal was an evil incarnate who tormented will, will was married with a kid, hannibal hooked up many times and tried to "replace" will. yet the whole show was about their power play that was er0tic in subtext! the same as it is with haladriel! the whole show is one big haladriel parallel and a metaphor about the light and the dark having an eternal battle and dance!

anyways, if you do ship haladriel and do want fans to create for it, then please interact with the works! hype them up! let's not sustain our fandom on the frustrated screams into the void, but on the common enjoyment of the material that we are given and the potential it has!

#sauron x galadriel #haladriel #saurondriel #the rings of power #galadriel #sauron #galadriel x halbrand

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ulquiorrapleasecallmetrash · 6 months ago

Note

absolutely love your works, especially your Undertaker content, it's lovely. could I possibly request something with submissive UT? you can even go to the extreme and include pegging, if you're comfortable with that. once again, love your blog!

To Be Used (Sub! Undertaker x Dom! GN! Reader)

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Fandom: Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji

Warnings: Bondage, Strap-on use, Spit, Sucking on strap, Butt stuff, Fellatio, collaring, Harness use, Dom/Sub dynamics, hair pulling, begging,

Rated: 18+ sorry kids, maybe once you turn 18!

Admin Harmony🐯: Thank you so much for those kind words! You're too kind and too sweet🥰. Ohoho you Undertaker ho's are in for a treat. Say thank you to Anon for requesting this! It's one of my proudest works! I hope you enjoy this!

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It was one of those rare occasions that Adrian would let you take control.

At first, he would tease you about it, thinking about someone like you taking control of was a cute, but silly idea but once you told him how serious you were he let you indulge him.

He was an open-minded guy, after all.

And his openness is the reason why he was tied up, hands behind his back with nothing but a leather harness on his chest with a matching collar around his neck. He was fully exposed on the bed, face down ass up, his beautiful long hair flowing down his back.

He looked perfect.

You hummed in approval, making sure to examine every inch of his body, soaking in everything.

He looked just like art, a masterpiece even.

“ You look so gorgeous bound for me.” You said breathlessly, Undertaker gave you a toothy grin, his emerald eyes pierced through his shaggy bangs as he looked up at you. He always enjoyed being praised, and you can tell by his eyes that he enjoyed that compliment. You took your index finger, carefully lifting his chin up so he was looking straight at you. Then, you leaned forward to give him a heated kiss, it was slobbery, messy and erotic, just how he craves it. He never wanted the kiss to end, but unfortunately for him, you let go, watching the bridge of spit that trailed from both your mouths. “You’re so eager for me aren’t you? You’re such a good boy.” You chuckled darkly, watching his eyes brighten up upon another praise.

“Do you remember all of your safe words?”

“Yes, madam.”

“Good, if we do need to stop at any time make sure you use them. You trust in me, right?”

“Of course, my love.”

You smiled with him, gently rubbing his cheek with your soft, warm hand. “Good, now let’s get started.”

You went over to the dresser, opening a drawer to scavenge through the items that you have collected until you found what you needed. Lube and your strap-on. You could feel Undertaker’s eyes on you with full interest, he knew what was coming.

“You see this don’t you my dear?” you smirked, lifting up the items so he could get a good view of it. He nodded his head, “Words, my love.” You verbally scolded him. “Yes, Madam I see it.”

“Good, because this is what we are going to do. You need more training, I need to make you my perfect anal slave now don’t we?” You chuckled as you watched him shift a little, you could always tell when he was getting hard for you.

“Yes, please do it Madam.” His voice was calm but you could hear the slight urgence in his voice, he was getting more aroused the longer he saw you holding the strap-on.

You only tutted, “Now now you’re getting too eager, Adrian. You can’t possibly get rewarded without putting in some work. That wouldn’t be too fair now would it?”

Adrian didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to, because he knew he would be punished if he did and he needed to be used by you as soon as possible.

You begin to strip your clothes off, staring into his eyes, watching his lustful gaze savor every part of your beautiful body. You begin to put on the harness for your strap-on, sliding the garment over your lower half, entertained by Undertaker’s desperate eyes.

He was getting needier by the second.

“I said you needed to put in work in order to get what you want, and that still stands. We need to put your pretty mouth into good use, so I think you know what to do next.” You made your way towards him, standing right infront of him, your long, thick dildo right into his face. He hesitated, “ Go on darling, it ain’t gonna suck itself..” You chuckled, grinning down at him. You leaned forward a bit more, dildo face first, so it would be easy to properly mouth train him. Undertaker leaned his head forward giving it a gentle lick on its tip. You tutted, “it’s not a real dick, no need to tease it. Give it your all, don’t be so shy.” You winked at him.

He opened his mouth wider, leaning his head forward to suck on it, puffing his cheeks, then bobbing his head up and down slowly, trying to get a good rhythm.

“Good boy, you have a nice rhythm, now keep it up and go faster, put that mouth to wonderful use.” You placed your hand on his head, gently patting it upon praise. He let out a muffled moan. He begin to do just as you say, sucking and bobbing his head eagerly. He was being so good for you, he even rememebered to keep eye contact with you as his mouth fucked the toy. You grabbed a fist full of his gray locks, slightly forcing it down his throat.

“Such a good boy but you need to go deeper, how can you be my handsome throat prince if you can’t go deeper?” You hummed, you could hear more of his muffled moans, as he kept bobbing his head deeper down your cock. You begin to gently thrust into his throat, making sure to keep a nice steady rythmn since he wasn’t use to being throat fucked like this before. You gripped his hair, practically violating his face, your thrists becoming more relentless as time went on. You hadn’t noticed but Adrian was already on the brink of oragasm, his cock hard, rapidly pulsating and needy. Then after a few harsh thrusts from you, his strained moans echoed, oragasming right then and there. His come spurting out snd onto the bed.

Your eyes widened from shock, Did he just orgasmed just by you face fucking him?

“You truly are my throat prince, I never thought you would orgasm just by me face fucking you.”

You removed your spit coated toy out of his mouth, giving him some time to breathe and come down from his high.” He laid down, breathing heavily, his face pink and warm.

“You truly are a gem, but we’re not done yet. It’s time for your reward.”

He perked up, lifting his head up in interest, watching you humming happily as you lube up the dildo. You begin to get on top of the bed, right behind him. He tensed a bit, once you rubbed the lubed all over your fingers and then into his anus, making sure to use a generous amount. He gasped at your warm touches, his cock starting to swell again from arousal. Your fingers worked their magic as you poked and prod his anus, making sure that the lube coats the walls of his hole. You grinned as you heard Undertaker’s moans of arousal. It was truly music to your ears. “ Are you ready to take all of me in?” You asked him, Adrian nodded, his cock twitching rigorously, pre-cum already leaking from his tip. “Take me please, madam.” He insisted, his voice filled with urgence.

“As you wish, my love.” You position your cock at the entrance of him, taking your hand and slowly dragging it down his back to further tease him. He tensed a bit, a slight gasp escaped his lips. You begin to slowly insert yourself into him, you begin to lean into him closer, making sure to fully dominate him. Skin on skin contact can be heard as you begin to thrust into him, slowly, at first until you pick up the pace. The volume of his moans increased the harder and faster you fucked him, you growled, using your dominate hand to grab a fistful of his beauitful gray locks, “Ahhhh~!” You heard him audibly moan, you knew how much he loved getting his hair pulled. You yanked his hair harder as you ruthlessly pounded into him, going in deep and fast but also taking time to go as slow as possible to further tease and edge him. His moans were getting louder, echoing from his lips. You only tutted, still fucking him senseless. “You’re so loud, it’s a good thing that no one else is around or they would know how much of slut your really are~.” You cackled, taking your hand and smacking him on the ass. It was hard to see from your angle but Undertaker’s cock was scarlet, engorged, and twitching constantly, his balls heavy with cum, that was desperate to be released.. The slapping on the skin on skin contact was also turning you on too. “F-fuck.. I’m gonna…” Undertaker whined out, ��Aw are you gonna come, handsome? You sure can, cum all over the bed for me dear. this is your treat~” You hummed, your eyes never leaving his form as he moaned out in pure pleasure, several spurts of cum squirted all over the bed. You still fucked him senseless as you pulled on his hair harder. Once he had finished oragasming, you let go of his hair, watching his head fall onto the bed. He was panting, exhausted by his intense oragsm. You gently removed yourself from him, taking some of the leftover cum that was on his bed, making sure to gather as much as possible. You took your finger, placing your hand infront of his fucked out face, “You sure can come a lot, Adrian.” You took your other hand, lifting up his head with his chin, placing your cum covered finger between his lips, feeling the sensation of his tongue licking and sucking it like a true gentleman.

“You did such a wonderful job, I’ll give you a little rest.” you gave him a sweet smile, “Because of you, i’m soaking wet and needy, now it’s your turn to do the favor~.”

And he gladly will.

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#anime #manga #imagines #black butler #black butler anime #undertaker black butler #black butler imagines #kuroshitsuji imagines #kuroshitsuji #undertaker x reader #undertaker imagines #undertaker kuroshitsuji #spicy

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