#we could list off names forever

[cacw]

the dark forest as a concept is already so dumb and contrived but it is still bizarre how mudclaw got to go to heaven for doing nearly the exact same thing as curlfeather (who managed this without getting everybody else involved!) and i'm not saying he should have gone to hell i don't think most really deserve that but the double standard at play here is crazy

[empyreansentinel]

<- he is realizing he has a type for evil characters. (shockwave, singed, shang tsung, the architect)

[currently-becoming-potatoes]

List of words for the computer:

LONG POST- more under the cut

STANFORD- Pulls up a file on Stanford Pines, written by an unknown scientist. It discusses his extra finger and praises his intelligence, as well as calling him the “next evolution in the human species”.

BILL CIPHER- Takes you to the Wikipedia page for the Eye of Providence. Also took me to a Sesame Street video about a Jazzy Triangle and a Square. Not sure what prompted the change.

STANLEY PINES: Takes you to a list of EBay listings for brass knuckles.

FIDDLEFORD: Takes you to the music video for Cotton Eye Joe by Rednex.

SHERMIE: Nothing. I sure do wish we got some lore about Grandpa Pines.

GRAVITY FALLS: The text on the computer reads “never heard of it” and the red light on the bottom turns green.

ALEX HIRSCH: Leads to Google Images for “flannel”. Huh.

WEIRDMAGEDDON: Pulls up an article from the Gravity Falls Gossiper about how nothing happened at all and there was no apocalypse.

DISNEY: Screen reads “rat.gif censored for your protection”

SOOS: Leads to a page of writing from Soos himself, referencing many things (including Tad Strange being gay and madly in love with Woodpecker Guy. Love wins!!!)

DIPPER: Leads to a creepy yellow parchment with a message from Bill Cipher himself trying to trick Dipper into blinding himself by staring at the sun for 13 hours straight! Silly! (Also if you keep clicking on it, the page gets darker and blurrier until it implies we've gone blind)

MABEL: Causes stickers to appear on every available surface. Clicking it enough times leads to message “lab now fully Mabelized”.

WENDY: Leads to a note from Wendy that mentions a way to ward off evil triangles written in the bottom corner of the book.

GIDEON: Makes a web recording of Gideon scatting play. It ends with “I love you forever Mabel”. Please shut the fuck up you little creep.

TAD STRANGE: Plays a video of bread with smooth jazz in the background.

TOBY DETERMINED: Leads to a Google search for a restraining order. Holyyyyy shittttttt

WHO ARE YOU: “I could ask you the same question”

SEASON 3: “Season Two”. I guess that’s that lol

This was about all I could find. Please reblog with anything else you can discover! Thank you, fellow Gravity Falls enjoyers!

And make sure to give some love to all the wonderful folks down in the comments! Many of these answers and tips come from what they've found. I can't list everyone, unfortunately- I didn't expect this post to get popular- but, to everyone who's helped out, THANK YOU.

FURTHER EDITS:

BLIND EYE: Pulls up an optometrist’s eye exam. Each line reads “WKHBOOVHH”. Too lazy to translate atm.

PIÑATA: Bill Cipher getting beaten to death /hj

MASON: A note from Dipper listing several anagrams of Gravity Falls characters’ names. You can check in the comments for the answers.

AXOLOTL: “You ask alotl questions”. Thanks for the pun, Alex, but I’m kind of losing my mind rn

MYSTERY SHACK: Leads to a Google search for Confusion Hill, the real-life Mystery Shack!

MYSTERY: “?”

MONSTER: Leads to several YouTube videos for “There’s a Monster at the End of this Book.”

VALLIS CINERIS: Leads to an analog-horror-esque video of Baby Bill and his parents, who have been blotted out by static, and a voice repeating “WHY DID YOU DO IT” over and over again until you stop the video.

PORTAL: “Portal.exe has been deleted. I bet you could build a new one.”

GIFFANY: You need to put it in multiple times. Several warnings about breaching firewall, followed by a message from GIFFANY saying “SOOS! I still love you!” or smth like that, and then GIFFANY herself briefly appearing onscreen. Trying again after that summons her more. Also lets you download some ZIP files.

DORITO: Summons an image of a spinning Dorito, followed by the most cursed image of Bill Cipher I have ever seen.

GOD: A short video of an axolotl in a tank with a Bill Cipher statue plays. This is Alex’s axolotl, shown in the Book of Bill countdown.

REALITY: “Is an illusion”

FILBRICK: “I’m not impressed”

CARYN: “I knew you were gonna write that”

GLASS SHARD BEACH: Leads to an image of the New Jersey Hell Hole.

ANY CUSS WORD: Pulls up a paper reading “NOT S&P APPROVED. WASH YOUR MOUTH OUT WITH SOAP” with an image of soap below.

MATPAT: Leads to a video of MatPat next to a conspiracy board, holding the Book of Bill. He tells us we’re on our own.

BABBA: Plays an audio recording of Dipper singing BABBA. Not Disco Girl, a different song.

CRAZ: Leads to the Jem and the Holograms theme.

XYLER: See above.

AD ASTRA PER ASPERA: Shows us two new journal pages from Ford and Mabel, studying the Cipher statue. They’re definitely worth the read, I teared up looking at them.

ANSWER: “Question”

QUESTION: “Answer”

SEASON ONE: “Season -1: Antigravity Falls”

SEASON TWO: “Season 1” …maybe scratch what I said about Season 3. Or don’t. Things are starting to damage my brain.

CURSED (got from @slimslamflimflam decoding the candle! Thanks!): Shows two pages talking about the dangers of drawing triangles, with the bottom of the second page showing several drawings of Bill and the words “HE IS COMING, RUN”

THE UNIVERSE: “Hologram”

RIZZ: “Life privileges revoked. Now releasing poison gas.” This response is repeated if you type in SKIBIDI or FORTNITE.

BABY: Shows an ultrasound of a fetus Bill Cipher, captioned “Look at what’s growing inside you! See you in nine months, papa!”

JOURNAL 3: “The Journal for Me”

PACIFICA: Leads to a note from Pacifica calling Bill Cipher “ick” and telling us to follow her on social media under “Platinum Paz”

PLATINUM PAZ: Pulls up an image of Northwest Manor with the llama symbol overlaid and a “NW” logo beneath. There's also a short story beneath!

LOVE: Leads to an audiobook of “The Love Triangle”. Need to read later.

BLENDIN: “The time agent lost and presumed incompetent”. Uh…?

SCARY: Leads to another audiobook of a cheesy Goosebumps-esque horror novel written by Bill himself, apparently.

DIVORCE: Shows you the logo of the bar Bill went to after his fight with Ford… Billford bitter exes confirmed

ROBBIE: Leads to the cringiest messages ever. He’s such a failure I love him

CONSPIRACY: Leads to a video of a man losing his mind over the countdown counting up. I feel so seen. (I have been informed that his name is Charlie Day, he's an actor from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia and that one meme, he had a quote on the back of the Book of Bill, thanks to everyone who explained that to me, I'm sorry, I'm uncultured)

RAT: “Thurburt’s number?”

BLANCHIN: Leads to a YouTube video on how to blanch vegetables.

TJ ECKLEBURG: “Never mention that name again.”

NOTHING: “Something”

SOMETHING: “Nothing”

BURNSIDE: “Burned inside.” Well… at least we know what happened…

WADDLES: Leads to the pig placement network!

THERAPRISM: Pulls up a sign from the theraprism regarding an emergency situation. The code reads "THE OLD ONE".

SHAPE: Pulls up an article on Plato, triangles, and Ancient Greece. This article is presumably written by Bill.

LLIB and BILL: THIS leads to the Sesame Street video every time.

WEIRD: Shows a video of a frightened Weird Al panicking about being trapped in a computer. Sorry, man...

CLONE: Pulls up an image of Paper Jam Dipper, a warning about not getting him too close to liquids, and an option to print.

TRIANGLE: ")" or "Tri harder."

THEYLLSEE: "Is seeing believing?"

DEER TEETH: "For you, kid!"

LIFE: "Life: 72% complete. Now loading: death."

DEATH: "Life's goth cousin."

PINES: "A good family tree."

OWL TROWEL: A slab of hieroglyphs, translating to an ancient ad for an owl trowel.

SCALENE: "Life form not found." EUCLID has the same outcome.

WELL WELL WELL BEING: Some assorted notes from Bill's Theraprism file. These include his greatest love and fear, his art therapy notes, and notes on his phobias. Three clicks is required to read them all.

BOO BERRY: Offers a poem on the meaning of life! Wow! I feel so enlightened!

LOVE YA BRO: Shows us a doodle from Stan of one of his and Ford's Sea Grunks adventures, and another code on the back. It translates to "Kings of New Jersey." I've been told it lets you download the code as a font.

SORRY: Reveals the repaired Backupsmore photo, with a note from Fiddleford about his and Ford's growing friendship. Fiddauthor fans, we are eating well tonight!

HORROR: Pulls up an image and report on The Always Garden, which is essentially a cheap Italian restaurant hidden in the backrooms.

HOLOGRAM: "Universe."

NAITSUAF: Pulls up a page that looks like it would be from the Book of Bill, in which Bill tries to convince us to sell us his soul. Clicking "ARE YOU READY?" pulls up a contract where we can sell our soul to Bill (with an alarming amount of coded fine print. Will need to translate later). You can print this document out, back out, or sign it right there on the web. Hitting "SIGN" causes the words "PLEASURE DOING BUSINESS WITH YOU!" to appear, and the document to close. In other words, I no longer have a soul.

IMSTILLONYOURMIND: Plays a recording of the ocean, with Stan faintly talking in the background. Poor Ford ain't quite over the divorce yet...

HOTXOLOTL: Pulls up a "MOST WANTED" doc on the henchmaniacs.

SEVENEYES: Pulls up a faded polaroid of The Oracle with text on the back that reads "LEAVE HIM. Escape to dimension *blurred out*. It's against the rules but it's the only reality where you'll be safe from him." The code at the bottom (once again decoded by the powerhouse that is @slimslamflimflam) reads "Set a course for Dimension: R34LITY." Is another Cipher Hunt in the makes? Only time will tell, hehehe.

JUST FIT IN: Plays an old commercial with a few moments of speech in the glitches at the end.

EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES: Shows a transcript from a therapy session at the Theraprism. Bill discusses his relationship with Ford and cuts off the session when someone brings up his parents.

NOT A PHASE: Shows a Google search for "black hair dye stained an entire bathroom."

PAPER IS BOOK SKIN: Instantly downloads a page of fleshy pink paper with the word "ENJOY" written on it!

SHAVE YOUR GRANDMA: Pulls up a few more pages about the human life cycle.

LIES: Pulls up an image of "The Game of Lies" board game, with a long stretch of text from (I assume) Bill, ending with "LIE UNTIL YOU ARE NOT LYING ANYMORE." Someone has some issues...

SAY BAAAA: Pulls up a neat little rhyme about being Bill Cipher's obedient flock of sheep. The code at the end translates to "Black Sheep."

ONE EYED KING: Plays a video of a hypnotist's spiral, with Bill proclaiming "YOU WANT TO PLEDGE YOUR SOUL TO BILL CIPHER" in the background. There is also morse code that translates to "NAITSUAF", leading to a previous discovery- the soul contract.

TANTRUM: Pulls up a transcript of a spat between Bill and Time Baby.

TITANS BLOOD: "HOOT HOOT! Password please!"

CURSE WITTEBANE: Pulls up an image of a Bill Cipher ouija board.

FORDTRAMARINE: Pulls up several rejected files from Ford trying to convince us Fordtramarine exists.

SUCK IT MERLIN: Pulls up a tapestry of Bill riding a unicorn. The code at the top reads "DAY MARE VS NIGHTMARE."

HEY NERD: Plays a commercial advertising things such as a Bill Cipher calendar, the Scrubba-Bill, a severed hand, and the entire Cygnus-XIII galaxy. Half of the image can be found in the Book of Bill.

DESTRUCTION IS THE FORM OF CREATION: Pulls up a frantic page of notes from post-portal-shit Fiddleford. A sticky note at the bottom has a code that reads "Unreality."

RUBBERHOSE: Plays "The World is Small Ever After for All."

IRREGULAR: Shows us Bill's mugshot in color. The code below reads "No prison or attention span can hold him."

UNREALITY: Offers a guide by Bill on how to become immortal.

GUN: "Oh yes oh yes oh yes they both."

ABUELITA: Leads to a video on vacuuming the walls.

YES: "What's McGucket's favorite soda?"

NO: "Your loss..."

REPEATEDLY CLICKING STAN: This stuff deserves a section of its own, away from the OG Stan stuff. It takes you through several Ebay listings on various Stan-ish items until you get to a page written by Bill about Stan's secret shames. "Ex-wives" further confirms our theory on Stan and Eda's relationship, as well as revealing many other bits of lore. "Fears" is somewhat goofy to be honest. "Secret Shames" reveals that Stan is a fanfiction writer and that his mother is the only member of his family who truly loves him outside of Ford and the kids. "Unreported Crimes" is somewhat goofy as well. "Failed Products" basically confirms that Stan is that world's Alex. "Lowest Moments" is genuinely depressing, and "Darkest Thought". Well. I'm not spoiling it lol. And the bit on "How He Beat Me" causes Bill to get more and more frantic/angry the more you click it! Comedy GOLD!

DIPPY FRESH: Leads to a Reddit post of the Burger King Kids Club.

MEOW: Leads to a TikTok of a man playing the Gravity Falls theme on that cap keyboard.

HELP ME: Pulls up another video of Alex's axolotl and the tiny statue. Rip Bill ig :/

R34LITY: Pulls up several photos of the henchmaniacs in live-action, captioned "They found a new home."

JOURNAL 1: "The journal of fun."

JOURNAL 2: "The journal for you."

FBI: "Your webcam is on. We are watching."

BURNED INSIDE: Shows an image of a charred Oregon Parks badge and nametag on the ground.

HECTORING: Plays a silly little country song!

OROBOROUS: Pulls up two journal pages about Fiddleford buying Ford an axolotl to keep him company, and Bill subsequently telling Ford to get rid of him. There's also some code on the first page that reads "CHONKY BOY." Ford, you wonderful dork.

[wholoveseggs]

Pretender

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} Working in a brothel was never easy, but when a man claiming to be the prince comes to visit, it can be downright dangerous.

7.5k words - Warnings: smut, whore!reader, mild dubcon, oral sex m!receiving, face fucking, riding, ffm threesome, rough sex, mentions of rape, graphic violence, choking, gold cloaks, deception & Daemon being Daemon...

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡♡ Hey! If you don't want to be tagged in Daemon fics just let me know! He's a much different character than Elijah & I don't wish to waste your time ♡♡

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer

There were far worse fates than being a whore. If it meant that you were able to make it another day in this world, you were willing to do it. Even if that meant selling yourself for a few crowns.

It wasn't all bad, there were some who treated you with kindness and respect, others who didn't, and some who weren't even sure how to treat a woman. They were the ones you felt most sorry for, the ones who just wanted to feel a bit of kindness and were too afraid to go and get it from elsewhere. Or simply had nowhere else to turn.

Tonight was one of the quieter nights. Most of the men were either gone or asleep. You could hear the low murmurs of the few that were still awake, soft moans from the rooms next to you as they had their fun. The smell of sweat and sex hung heavy in the air, it had become something you'd grown accustomed to over the years.

You were lounging around with the other girls, laughing and talking as the night dragged on, when you heard the sound of hooves against the dirt outside, and the creak of a cart.

One of the girls, named Lina, came stumbling in, she was extremely drunk, almost tripping over herself as she tried to regain her balance. Her dress was askew and her hair was messy.

This was a common occurrence for her these days, ever since her man had died she had thrown herself into a bottle, trying to forget. You couldn't blame her for it, she was in pain and she needed an escape, you just wished that her solution didn't cause such destruction.

She plopped down onto the floor next to you and laid her head in your lap. "You're always so warm and soft, just like a pillow" she giggled and rubbed her head into you, like a cat seeking comfort.

You softly ran your fingers through her hair, untangling the knots as best you could. "How are you feeling, sweetie?"

"I feel great," she slurred. "Any work?"

"Not at the moment, no" you sighed.

"That's a shame," she said, looking up at you with big, sad eyes. "I'm low on coin,"

"We all are," said another of the girls, a pretty blonde girl by the name of Kari. She was less sympathetic to Lina's situation than you were.

"If you don't have coin, then leave. Don't stay here and take up our space," she snapped.

"Kari" you hissed, trying to get her to back off, but she ignored you.

"What? I'm right" she scoffed.

You were interrupted by a group of men entering the brothel, loud and obnoxious. They were all dressed in fine clothes, reeking of alcohol and crowns, just what you had been waiting for.

Lina was instantly on her feet, swaying a little but keeping her balance as she walked over to greet the newcomers.

"What can I help you with, my lords?" she asked, her voice a low purr as she batted her eyelashes.

Kari gave you a pointed look and went off to tend to another customer, leaving you alone to deal with the new arrivals.

They all looked like typical nobility. Clean-shaven and dressed in silk. You had a good eye for these sorts of things. It was easy to spot the difference between a merchant and a noble, and these men were definitely nobles.

They were also clearly drunk, slurring their words and stumbling around the place, laughing at everything.

Lina was already leading two of the men away, no doubt eager to earn a few coins and keep her drinking habits intact.

You turned your attention to the man standing to the side of the group. He was tall and slender, with fair skin and long blonde hair. His eyes were a piercing blue, like two pools of ice.

He smiled at you and stepped forward, extending a hand towards you. "Have you ever had a prince before?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

You took his hand and returned his smile. "No, my lord, I can't say I have,"

You have heard many men claim to be one noble or another, sweet little lies they tell you as a way to seem important. It mattered very little to you, they were all the same when it came down to it.

Kari came sauntering back into the room, her dress slipping off her shoulder as she walked. She looked over at you and the blonde man and raised an eyebrow.

You smiled at her and leaned in closer to the man. "Kari, this one is a prince, isn't he handsome?"

Kari's eyes widened and she let out a small gasp, bowing dramatically, her dress slipping even further down her chest, revealing her cleavage.

"Prince Daemon Targaryen," he announced, his chest puffed out.

"I've never met a prince before," she said, her voice filled with awe. She was over doing it just a little, and you had to fight the urge to laugh at her performance.

"Oh, but I can change that," he replied, a smirk on his face.

Kari grinned and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body against his.

"I'm sure you can," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear.

His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his side.

You felt a tingle run down your spine, he was quite handsome and you could see the appeal of bedding a prince, even if you didn't actually believe his claim.

"Why don't we all get comfortable," he said, his voice low and deep.

You and Kari exchanged glances, grinning at each other, rich men usually pay well.

 The two of you led the prince up the stairs, his arm still wrapped around you, his hand resting on your hip. The three of you entered the room, the door slamming shut behind you. He wasted no time in grabbing hold of Kari and kissing her, his hands roaming her body.

You watched with fascination as the two of them kissed and touched each other, their bodies moving together. Without looking at you, he reached out and grabbed you, pulling you towards him and kissing you passionately.

"Double the pleasure, double the coin, my prince," Kari stated gently, breaking the kiss and stepping away from him. She was always keen on making the payment clear, before the fun could begin.

"Are you questioning my generosity?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kari shook her head. "No, of course not. I would never do such a thing,"

You nodded in agreement.

The man looked at the two of you, a slight smile on his face. "Do you think a prince cannot afford two whores?" he asked, his tone playful.

You smiled at him, "No, we know you can," and you hoped that you were right.

He grinned and kissed you again, a little more aggressive this time. He nipped at your bottom lip, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin.

"Kneel for your prince," he commanded, his voice firm.

You and Kari exchanged amused looks, then both kneeled before him. She began to untie the laces of his trousers while you looked up at him with innocent eyes, your tongue running across your bottom lip.

"What's it like? To ride a dragon," you asked him, genuinely curious.

"Like nothing else," he replied.

You could tell that he was getting impatient, his eyes darkening with lust. His hand ran through your hair, gripping it tightly and pulling your head back.

"Suck," he ordered, and you obeyed, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. You slowly took more of him into your mouth, using your tongue to pleasure him.

"Gods, that feels amazing," he moaned, his hips bucking forward.

He was rough and demanding, but it was nothing you and Kari couldn't handle. You continued to suck and lick him, while she stroked him and kissed his thighs.

The two of you worked in tandem, bringing him to the edge and then pulling him back. You could feel him growing more and more frustrated, his hand gripping your hair tighter.

Finally, he could take it no longer, he grabbed Kari by the hair and pushed his cock all the way to the back of her throat. His hand pressed against the top of her head as he fucked her mouth hard.

She gagged and coughed, but still tried her best to please him. You could see her discomfort and you slowly stood up, kissing his neck and touching his chest, trying to calm him down.

After a few more moments, he released her, shoving her back. She fell back on the floor, coughing and sputtering.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes wild. Without a word, he pulled down your dress, revealing your naked form beneath. He was on you in an instant, pushing you down onto the bed and climbing on top of you, his hands on your throat.

Your head spun, and the room seemed to grow hazy as the pressure on your throat increased. He parted your legs with his knee and pressed himself inside you, groaning with pleasure as he buried his cock deep within you.

He was a wild man, taking you roughly, with no thought of your own comfort or pleasure. Grunting and growling like an animal as he claimed you. You could feel the tears pricking your eyes as his hand tightened around your throat.

"How does it feel to fuck a dragon?" he asked, his face mere inches from yours. You couldn't reply, his hand still holding your windpipe in a vice-like grip. His eyes were cold and calculating, the passion of a moment ago now gone.

You scratched at his wrists, but he just laughed, slamming into you with a savage ferocity. He was like a beast, taking you for all you were worth.

When men were rough like this, a part of you would disappear inside yourself. You would no longer feel as if it was you who were being manhandled, the parts of your body no longer connected to your mind.

You could smell his sweat, feel his hands on you, hear the low rumbles of his voice, but you were no longer here. Your body was simply an object, a vessel, and your mind had retreated somewhere far away, watching from the shadows.

Kari had composed herself enough to join the two of you on the bed. She climbed behind you, running her hands along your body. You were just lying there, allowing yourself to be used, but Kari's touch was a small comfort.

He slammed into a few more times before climbing off of you and grabbing Kari, flipping her on her stomach, pinning her down. He wasted no time entering her, thrusting in and out like an animal, the sound of slapping flesh filling the room.

You lay there, listening to the sounds of the two of them, trying to make sense of things. He didn't last long, men like this rarely did. After a few minutes, he let out a strangled groan and pulled out, his seed spilling out onto her back.

He rolled off of her, panting and laughing to himself, a satisfied grin on his face. She sat up and brushed some hair from her sweat-soaked forehead, looking over at you.

She crawled towards you and wrapped her arms around you, kissing your cheek gently. Her hand intertwining with yours. The two of you had certainly experienced worse customers than him. He didn't appear unhappy with what you did. You were fortunate in that sense.

"I shall take you both on my dragon, fuck you on his back while we fly," he said, a wicked grin on his face.

You had no idea how one would manage to do such a thing, but you were certain he was just trying to impress you.

"That would be something," Kari replied, a smile on her lips.

He was sitting there, his hand lazily stroking his cock as he watched the two of you. "Kiss," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You and Kari exchanged a look, then leaned in and kissed each other, the feeling of her soft lips against yours making your heart skip a beat.

He was watching the two of you with rapt attention, his eyes dark and hungry. He reached out and pulled you away from her, his lips crashing down onto yours. His hands roamed your body, his touch rough and demanding.

"That's a good girl," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

He grabbed a tankard of wine from the nightstand, drinking it down and tossing it aside. You observed the muscles on his back, the way they flexed in the dim light, you could see long scars down his back. They looked like the marks caused by a whip, you knew the scars well, having seen them on many of the men and women in the brothel.

"My Prince, forgive me, but those scars, where did they come from?" you asked, unable to contain your curiosity.

He flinched at your question, not looking at you. "Tourneys," he said sharply, bending over and grabbing his shirt from the floor.

You didn't press the issue, he clearly didn't want to talk about it.

He pulled his shirt on, the silk material stretching over his muscular frame. Then he collapsed onto the bed, pulling you down with him, wrapping his arm around you.

You looked at him and saw a haunted look in his eyes, the same look that many of the others in the brothel had. He was running from something, or someone.

"Call me your prince and tell me you love me," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

"Of course, my prince," you replied, and the words felt hollow.

"I love you my prince," Kari purred, cuddling up to him.

"Yes, I know you do," he said, his eyes glazing over.

The two of you stayed with the prince all night, his talk turning into ramblings, bragging about dragon riding, flying in the clouds, great battles and tourneys he had won. He talked of nothing but how good he had it, how great he is, of all the wonderful things he owned.

While it was not the worst experience you'd had, it wasn't a pleasant one either. Kari kept encouraging him to keep bragging, praising him and showering him with compliments. All you wanted was to close your eyes and drift off to sleep, but his obnoxious voice made it nearly impossible.

By the time the sun came up, he was fast asleep. His snoring so loud you were sure he was going to wake up the rest of the brothel. 

You and Kari were counting the coin he had given you, making sure it was all there. It wasn't as much as you were expecting, considering his claims of royalty. But you'd make do, it'd tide you over for a while. You would certainly sleep comfortably tonight.

Although he was Prince Daemon, you didn't want to fuck him again, not for any amount of coin. If he returned to visit, you would simply make yourself scarce.

Much to your disappointment the prince had turned into a regular at the brothel. At least once a week he would return, bringing with him a small fortune and a lot of drink.

Lina was very pleased, she was the one he favored most of all. And as long as she was getting her coins, she was happy. You supposed she was too numb from drink to feel the pain or humiliation of his treatment.

You and Kari, on the other hand, were less enthusiastic about the prince's presence. Always trying your best to avoid him, finding ways to keep yourselves occupied while he was there.

But you had a feeling that he knew what the two of you were doing, and that you were avoiding him. He didn't seem upset by it, but there was a look in his eye that made you nervous.

He was in the main room tonight, with Lina in his lap, the two of them drunkenly talking about who knows what. But his eyes were on you, and it made your skin crawl.

You quickly got up and looked for a place to hide, not wanting to be caught in his sights. He was a dangerous man, you could sense it, and you had no interest in being alone with him.

You made your way through the halls, between tapestries of silk and dimly lit rooms, keeping your head down. It was almost too easy to disappear here, to find the dark corners and hide away from the world.

You weren't looking where you were going, and you found yourself crashing into someone.

"Sorry, sorry," you muttered, moving to continue walking.

You felt a hand grip your arm, and you looked up at a man dressed in dark clothing, a hood covering his face. There was an air of danger around him, the way he held himself was confident and commanding.

He looked you over, his gaze roaming over your body. From what you could see of his face, he was handsome, with a strong jawline and sharp features. His hair was blonde, resting on his shoulders.

"No need to apologize, little dove," he said, his voice deep and rich.

His hand slid down your arm, his fingers brushing against yours. "Come, let's have a drink," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

You nodded, grateful for any excuse to get away from the prince. You could also do with some extra coin, and this man seemed willing to pay.

He followed you to one of the private rooms, the curtains hanging around the bed were a soft blue, the room dimly lit by candles.

He gently leaned his sword against the wall, his fingers tracing over the hilt. It had an odd looking pommel, the metalwork intricate, the hilt the shape of a gold dragon.

He turned and sat on the bed, his hood falling down, revealing his face.

He was handsome, his blonde hair tumbling over his shoulders, his eyes sharp and bright. He was tall and lean, with a muscular build.

"So, what brings you to a place like this?" you asked, standing in front of him.

"Curiosity," he replied, reaching out and pulling you into his lap.

You gasped, your face inches from his. He smirked, his fingers wrapping around the silk ribbon around your waist, untying it. The thin dress fell open, revealing your chest.

"You are a pretty thing," he whispered, his eyes raking over your body.

You blushed, your heart beating faster. You were used to men commenting on your looks, but something about the way he said it made you feel warm.

"I bet you tell all the girls that," you teased, your hand reaching out and resting on his chest.

"I bet you pretend to enjoy it," he countered.

"And if I do?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He laughed, his fingers tracing the curve of your neck.

"I'll know the difference," he said, leaning in, his breath ghosting over your lips.

"Is that so?" you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckled, his other hand coming up and resting on your lower back. He pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours.

He was surprisingly gentle, his lips soft, his hands caressing your body. He kissed you like a lover, not like a man who was paying for a whore.

You melted into his touch, your hands moving up and tangling in his hair. He groaned, his fingers digging into your skin.

You knew the brothel had men of all shapes and sizes, some kinder, others rougher, but he was a different breed altogether. You were enjoying yourself in a way you never had before.

"See? You're not pretending,"he whispered against your lips.

You laughed softly, your eyes fluttering open, looking into his. He was staring at you with such intensity, it made your heart skip a beat.

He smiled at you, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. You could feel the warmth of his body, the strength of his arms around you.

"What kind of men do you usually entertain?" he asked, his lips moving to your neck.

"All kinds," you replied, letting him undress you, the silk pooling at your waist. "From beggars to princes," you said.

"Princes, hmm? I suppose a prince would have more coin than most," he said, gently cupping your breasts, his thumbs grazing over your nipples.

"Some," you replied, trying to keep your breathing steady. “The prince does come here often. Although he is not the most agreeable of men," you explained.

"You know a lot about the prince?" he asked, his lips grazing against the shell of your ear.

"Indeed, he told me he would show me his dragon," you said, smiling, tracing your finger down his chest, playing with the hem of his shirt. "Caraxes, is it's name," you added, taking hold of his shirt and pulling it off.

"Oh? That's an interesting promise," he replied, his lips pressing kisses along your shoulder, his teeth nipping at the soft skin.

"He said I could ride it too," you said, feeling his lips curve into a smile against your skin.

"I'm sure you would be more than capable," he breathed, his nose brushing over the curve of your neck. "Perhaps you can practice on me," he murmured.

You giggled, a warmth blooming between your legs. He was handsome and charming, his touch gentle, he knew what he was doing. His hands moved over your skin, leaving a trail of heat wherever they went.

You shifted on his lap, feeling his arousal pressing against you. "Is that so?" you asked, your lips ghosting over his.

"Mmm," he groaned, his eyes darkening, his lips claiming yours.

His hand cupped the back of your neck, holding you close. You could taste the sweetness of the wine on his tongue, his kiss full of passion and desire. Your hands went to his breeches, unlacing them and pulling out his cock.

You stroked him, feeling the velvety skin beneath your fingers. He groaned, his lips breaking away from yours.

"If I were to ride you, I'm not sure I would be able to walk away afterwards," you whispered, looking down at him.

"Maybe that's my plan," he said, as his hand slipped between your legs.

You gasped, the pleasure rippling through your body. You had a feeling this was going to be the best coin you had ever earned. It was always a nice treat when you could be with a man that you actually enjoyed touching.

"You're bigger than most of the other men I've had," you purred, running your hand up and down his length.

"I bet you say that to all the men," he teased, his fingers dipping into your cunt, feeling the wetness there.

"I'll say whatever you want me to," you said, kissing his neck, his jawline.

"Such a sweet little liar," he said, his hand cupping your cheek, tilting your head up.

You looked at him, your eyes meeting his. They were a deep blue, almost purple. There was a gentleness to them, but also a fire.

"Am I bigger than the prince?" he asked, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Would it be treason to say yes?" you whispered, your teeth grazing his earlobe.

"I won't tell him," he said, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss.

You smiled into the kiss and slowly rocked your hips, rubbing your slit against the underside of his cock. He groaned, his hands gripping your waist, his thumbs brushing over your hip bones.

You pulled away from the kiss, sitting up slightly and lining his cock up with your pussy. You sank down onto him, keeping your eyes locked with his.

You began to ride him, slowly at first, then you increased the pace. He let out a low groan and his hands squeezed your ass, helping you bounce on his cock.

You leaned down, capturing his lips in another passionate kiss. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

You pulled away from the kiss and rested your forehead against his.

"Fuck," he hissed, his fingers digging into your thighs.

You let out a breathless laugh and began to ride him faster, grinding down onto his cock. You could feel his length pulsing inside of you, his breath hot against your neck.

He suddenly flipped you into your back, your hair splayed out across the pillows. He grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs back, sinking his cock inside you once more.

You moaned, feeling him pound into you. He leaned down and captured your lips in another kiss, his tongue invading your mouth. Your hands went to his arms, they were made of pure muscle, the corded veins bulging under his pale skin.

His hips started to falter, a sure sign he was close to his release. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he let out a low and desperate groan. You could feel his cock throb as his seed filled you.

"I can see why the prince likes you," he said, a small smile on his face as he rolled off of you.

You chuckled, moving to cuddle up next to him.

"Oh? What makes you say that?" you asked, nuzzling into his chest.

"The way you fuck," he said, his lips curling up into a smirk. "It's truly fit for royalty,"

You giggled and buried your face into his chest, the smell of his sweat mixed with sex intoxicating.

"You are a far better lover than him, perhaps living up in a castle all his life has spoiled him," you said, tracing patterns on his chest.

He smiled, his arm wrapping around your waist, his thumb rubbing circles over your skin.

"I don't even know your name," you whispered, your hand reaching up and stroking his cheek.

"It doesn't matter now, does it?" he asked, his voice low and soft.

You watched him, wondering why a man would pay for a whore when he could easily get a woman willing. But then again, you knew the type of men who came to a place like this, perhaps he was married, or didn't have time for courtship.

He sat up and poured himself a cup of wine, the dark liquid spilling into the glass. He took a sip, then handed it to you.

"Thank you," you said, sitting up and taking a drink, the taste of wine sweet on your lips.

He leaned in and kissed you passionately. You hummed softly and cupped his cheek, his stubble scratching your palm.

He moved off the bed and grabbed his shirt, pulling it over his head. He picked up his sword, strapping the sheath to his belt.

You laid back, propping yourself up by your elbows as you watched him dress. He looked at you, a smirk on his face.

"You look lovely like that," he said, his voice a low purr.

You nodded in thanks, giving him a gentle smile and watched him pull out his coin purse.

"Keep the change," he said, tossing the bag onto the bed.

"Thank you, ser," you said, watching him walk out the door.

"Ser," he chuckled. "I am no ser," he said, looking back at you one last time before shutting the door.

The following evening was a busy one, you had spent most of the night serving drinks, the men rowdy and full of ale.

The drunker they got, the more coin they would spend, but that also came with its risks. Some of the men would become violent, the women in the brothel would often have bruises, sometimes it would be a black eye or busted lip.

You had gotten good at handling the rowdy customers, a few sweet words and a soft touch was enough to keep most men docile.

You hadn't seen Lina since yesterday, which was odd, usually she was down here, drinking and entertaining the men.

"Have you seen Lina?" You asked Kari, who was collecting a number of empty tankards.

"She's probably passed out in some room, drunker than a sailor," Kari replied, shaking her head.

You frowned, that didn't seem right. Lina had a habit of drinking, but never enough to not show up for work.

Kari could see the concern on your face and placed her hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Don't worry about her, she'll be fine," she said, giving you a reassuring smile.

"What if Prince Daemon comes in? I do not wish to deal with him," you whispered.

"Then don't," she said, pouring herself a glass of wine.

"I cannot refuse him, he would make my life a living hell," you sighed.

"Then you best stay out of his way," Kari said, patting your shoulder.

You nodded, but knew that was easier said than done. If he showed up tonight, you were sure to run into him.

You continued to serve drinks, doing your best to avoid the more aggressive customers. You felt a hand grip your wrist, and turned to see one of the regulars.

"Come sit on my lap pretty girl," the man said, tugging on your wrist.

You smiled sweetly and sat down on his lap, resting your arm on his shoulder.

"How have you been, my love?" you asked, batting your lashes.

"Better now that you're here," he said, his hand resting on your knee, his fingers rubbing circles on the inside of your thigh.

"That's sweet," you said, trying not to flinch at his touch.

You leaned in and whispered into his ear, "What can I do for you tonight?"

He smirked, his hand sliding further up your thigh, he looked over your shoulder and paused. His eyes were fixed on something behind you, his expression one of shock and disgust.

You turned to see Lina stumbling through the main room, her hair a mess, her clothes torn, blood trickling down from a wound on her head.

She was muttering incoherently, her eyes wild and unfocused. She stopped in the middle of the room, looking around, a terrified expression on her face.

"Lina?" You immediately got off the man's lap and rushed to her side, placing your hand on her shoulder.

She screamed, slapping your hand away and staggering back. Her eyes were wide, her breathing heavy, she was looking at you as if you were a stranger.

"Lina, it's me," you said, trying to calm her.

She shook her head, backing away, her eyes darting around the room.

"You're alright," you said, stepping towards her.

She raised her hands in front of her, as if trying to shield herself from something. You could see the bruises on her wrists and her hands were trembling.

You reached out to her, but she flinched, moving away from you. She backed into a table, knocking over a tray of drinks.

The noise drew the attention of the patrons, everyone was staring at her, murmuring to each other.

You grabbed her arm, gently leading her to the stairs. She let you lead her, her body tense, her breathing rapid.

You opened the door to her room and led her inside. You could see the dried blood and cum on her thighs, and the tears in her clothes.

"What happened to you, Lina?" you asked, but she remained silent, her gaze fixed on the floor.

You went to the washbasin and dampened a cloth, sitting next to her on the bed. You began to clean the dried blood from her face, gently wiping the cloth over her bruised skin.

"You are safe now," you said, trying to soothe her.

"It was him," she suddenly said, her voice quiet and strained.

"Him who?" you asked, dipping the cloth back into the water, the blood turning it pink.

"Prince Daemon," she said, her voice cracking.

Your eyes widened, the cloth slipping from your fingers and landing in the basin with a wet splash.

"Daemon did this to you?" you asked, a pit of anger forming in your stomach.

Lina nodded, tears streaming down her face, her body shaking. "You mustn't tell anyone, he will kill me," she cried.

"Lina, I...," you trailed off, unsure of what to say.

You wrapped your arms around her and held her close, letting her cry into your shoulder.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice breaking.

She pulled away, her eyes red and puffy, her lips quivering.

You felt your chest tighten, a wave of rage and despair washing over you. Daemon was a vile, evil man, and the fact that he had hurt Lina, filled you with an overwhelming anger.

You clenched your fists, feeling your nails dig into your palms, a stinging pain spreading over your skin.

"I... I lost all my coin...He took it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You wondered why a prince would bother stealing coins from a common whore, surely he had enough coin of his own.

"You can have whatever I earn tonight," you said, your tone serious.

"You don't have to do that," she said, shaking her head.

"Of course I do, you would do it for me," you said, gently cupping her cheek.

She nodded, her eyes glistening with fresh tears.

"Stay here, get some rest," you said, helping her lay down.

She pulled the blanket up to her chin, curling up into a ball, her body still trembling. You left the room, closing the door quietly behind you.

You walked back down to the main room, a burning rage coursing through your veins. You spotted Daemon, sitting at a table, drinking wine and laughing with a group of men.

You wanted to confront him, to pour hot tar over his head and watch him scream and writhe in pain. You looked around the room for a weapon, anything you could use to inflict harm upon him.

Your eyes landed on a serving tray, you picked it up, the metal cool against your palm. You were about to do something rash, something you couldn't come back from, when the man from last night caught your attention.

He was sitting at a table by himself, nursing a drink. He was wearing the same leathers as last night, and his sword was strapped to his hip.

He looked up, as if he could feel your gaze on him, and gave you a small smile. He gestured for you to come over.

You placed the tray back on the table, and walked over to him. You needed the coin for Lina, and he felt nice and smelled good, it would be a pleasant distraction.

"Back so soon?" you asked, swallowing your rage and fear, turning it to soft words and flirty touches.

You sat down on his lap, wrapping your arm around his shoulders, kissing his cheek and smiling sweetly.

"I missed you," he said, his hand going to your waist.

"Liar," you whispered, a playful smirk on your lips.

He laughed, the sound deep and rich, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He looked around the room then back to you, his gaze roaming over your body.

"Shall we?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

"Yes," you replied, sliding off his lap and taking his hand.

He followed you to the stairs, his hand on the small of your back. You glanced over your shoulder at Daemon, a scowl on your face as you walked away from the opportunity to harm him.

You quickly led the man to your room, shutting the door and leaning against it, letting out a sigh.

"Are you alright?" He asked, setting his sword down and untying his shirt.

"Fine," you said, watching him undress.

His chest was pale and well muscled, his body lean and strong. He looked up at you, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Lying once again," he said, unbuckling his belt.

"My friend was attacked," you said, walking over to him, running your hands over his bare chest.

"I am sorry to hear that," he said, his gaze focused on you, his hands reaching up to cup your face.

"She was beaten and raped by Prince Daemon," you said, leaning into his touch, his calloused palms rough against your cheeks.

He stiffened at that, but just for a moment, before untying your dress and letting it pool at your feet.

"You shouldn't say things like that," he said, his hands gripping your ass and pulling you closer.

"Why? It's the truth," You replied, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your naked body against his.

"It can get you killed," he said, his voice low and his breath hot against your ear.

You shivered, his words sending a chill down your spine. "I do not care, he deserves to die," you hissed, nipping at his bottom lip.

He smiled and lifted you up, carrying you to the bed and laying you down. His lips were soft against yours, his tongue exploring your mouth.

"Tell me, do you always have such violent thoughts?" He asked, his hands roaming over your body.

He gripped your hips and pulled you underneath him, his erection pressed against your pussy.

"When men like him exist? Yes," you replied, moaning softly as he ground his hips against yours.

"And what would you do, if you had the power?" He asked, his fingers ghosting over your clit, making you moan.

"I would cut him open, and feed him his own guts," you replied, arching your back, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you. "Or perhaps burn him alive," you added, a dark smile spreading across your lips.

He chuckled, a wicked grin on his face, his eyes flashing with desire.

"And what of me? What would you do to me?" He asked, his fingers slipping inside of you, moving slowly, his thumb circling your clit.

You kissed him, hard and fierce, nipping at his lip, a small bead of blood forming. You could taste it, sweet and coppery, the smell of iron filling your nose. He chuckled at your roughness, his fingers moving faster.

"You've not wronged me, yet," you moaned against his lips, your hands going to his cock, the speed of your strokes matching his.

"Yet?" He chuckled, a low and seductive sound.

"There is time," you teased, pushing him off you and onto his back.

You straddled him, lowering yourself onto his cock, moaning as you felt him stretch you. He gripped your hips, guiding you as you began to ride him, his eyes watching you intently.

You arched your back, rolling your hips, grinding against him, your hands on his chest. You could feel him hitting that spot inside of you, making you moan and pant.

He sat up, his hands gripping your ass, his lips finding yours, a soft and passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close, his warmth enveloping you.

"Harder," you pleaded, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

He obliged, his grip tightening, his hips thrusting harder, deeper, filling you completely. You buried your face in his neck, muffling your cries of pleasure, your body tensing as you came.

He grunted, his cock throbbing inside of you, his hot seed spilling into you. You held each other close, panting and sweating, the room silent save for your labored breaths.

He captured your lips, a soft and gentle kiss, his fingers stroking your cheek. You pulled away, resting your forehead against his, a contented sigh escaping your lips.

"Is he here now? This prince," he asked, a bitter inflection to his tone.

"Yes," you replied, running your hands through his hair.

"Will you point him out to me?" He asked, his grip on your hips tightening.

You looked at him, a curious expression on your face. "Why?"

"Just curious," he replied, his fingers tracing circles on your lower back.

You looked into his eyes, a strange fire had crept into his gaze. You could feel a change in the air, the tension thick and heavy, the room seeming to grow darker.

"Okay," you said softly, a hint of trepidation in your voice.

"Good," he said, a sly smile spreading across his lips.

He helped you off his lap, standing and gathering his clothes, pulling his trousers and shirt back on.

You watched him, the way his muscles moved beneath his skin, his eyes focused and determined. He seemed to be lost in thought, his gaze distant, as if he was planning something.

"Who are you?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't respond, just held out his hand for you. You took it, and let him help you off the bed, your fingers intertwined.

You descended the stairs, the tavern full and bustling, the air thick with the scent of sweat and ale. You led him towards the corner where the prince was, his table surrounded by a group of men.

"Them," you said, pointing to the prince and his entourage.

He nodded, and pulled you close, kissing your cheek and placing a large bag of crowns in your hand.

"For you and your friend," he whispered, before releasing you and disappearing into the crowd.

You stared after him, confused and intrigued. You didn't know what was going on, or what he was planning, but you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of excitement.

You went over to Kari who was in the lap of the regular from earlier, her hands wandering over his broad chest.

"Where did you go?" She asked, glancing at you, a questioning look in her eyes.

"Upstairs, with the man from last night," you replied, showing her the coins.

She grinned, her eyes wide. "Look at you, making the big coin," she said, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Suddenly there was a loud crash, the sound of breaking glass. You turned to see the prince on the ground, his table overturned, a shattered bottle of wine next to him. The men he was with nowhere to be seen.

A number of gold cloaks had come storming in, and were surrounding the table, their swords drawn.

You watched the man you had just been with appear behind them, making his way through the gold cloaks, they parted for him without question.

The prince looked up at him, his eyes wide with fear, his body trembling.

"What are you doing? I'm the prince! Prince Daemon Targaryen!" He stammered, trying to back away.

The man laughed, and looked around at the gold cloaks, who were smiling and laughing with him.

"Funny," he said, looking down at the prince. "I could have sworn that was me."

The man who claimed to be the prince looked horrified, his eyes wide with shock.

"That's right, your grace," the man said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You've been caught," he continued, the smirk turning into a sadistic grin.

You watched in horror and amazement as the pretender prince tried to scramble away, only to be stopped by a sword being plunged into his stomach.

He let out a gurgled cry, his blood spraying out onto the floor, a look of pure terror on his face. You and Kari screamed and looked away, covering your mouths in shock.

There was a horrible, visceral wet sound as the real prince Daemon cut open the pretender's stomach, and pulled out his innards, feeding them to him.

The room was silent, save for the sound of the dying pretender, gagging and wailing, his blood pooling around him.

"Let this be a lesson to all those who would dare to impersonate a prince of the realm," Daemon said, his voice booming across the tavern. "All pretenders shall meet the same fate."

The pretender had fallen silent, his body lying in a pool of his own blood and guts. Daemon wiped his hands and sword on the pretender's clothes, and turned to the gold cloaks.

"Clean this up, and dispose of the body," he said, his tone commanding.

The gold cloaks bowed, and began to drag the pretender's body from the tavern. The real prince looked around the room, his eyes landing on you.

You immediately looked to the floor, bowing before him, your heart pounding. You couldn't believe what had just happened, that the prince was a pretender and that the real Daemon had just been in your bed.

He walked over to you, and you kept your gaze down, not daring to look at him. You felt his hand under your chin, tilting your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"I'll be sure to burn him too," he said, a small smile on his lips.

You could only nod, your voice caught in your throat. He smiled and released you, turning and walking away.

Everyone was in a state of shocked silence, people staring in awe and disbelief. Kari looked at you, her eyes wide and her face pale.

"What just happened?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I... I don't know," you replied, your own voice shaking.

It was a lesson, one you never forgot. That even among whores, the truth would always find its way to the surface. And for that, there was no mercy.

[moolthecow]

i ain't gonna sugarcoat it.

[wyvernest]

cregan stark x f!targaryen!reader

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>>Queen Rhaenyra has sent you away from the brewing war to safety since your brother, Jacaerys, has secured the Pact of Ice and Fire. You have to honor it by marrying Lord Cregan Stark, Warden of the North.

chapter cw: sex in the hot springs, so smut, fluff, piv, two positions?, a bit of chasing as primal play, breeding kink

His thick arms hold you with undeniable ardour. The steam fuming from the waters in misty ribbons do little to clear your head, as your lord husband peppers the sensitive skin below your ear with kisses full of want.

One of your legs curls up around his own, as if on instinct; a seemingly romantic yet primal instinct of silently allowing him to have you. Your breathing only deepens when you feel the coarse hair on his leg, as if the embrace did not already bring your bare breasts against him, and every patch of your shivery skin under his touch.

Even with the clear ripples of the water, you sense something against your hip, and the breath leaving your lungs gets caught on a moan on its way out.

“My dear wife.” He mumbles with sincere infatuation, as your hands escape his hold and run down his massive shoulders.

“Wasn’t I to be less easy, Lord Stark?” You tease, with barely half a breathy voice, and he visibly tenses in pride at the name.

He stops, and when he moves his head away from your neck to look at you, you nearly regret even speaking as the reminiscence of his heated touch burns needily above your clavicle.

“You are anything but.” His tone is low and intimate, and it has your insides twisting and turning in anticipation. You wanted to have him fight for it, as late as it was. Though you are now unsure of how much longer you could bear it yourself. “Did you have a change of heart?”

“No.” Your answer shoots out fast, contrary to your desire to play a different game. “I only wish to relish this for longer.”

The slight twitch of his features when you clarify your intentions strikes a lighting into your already boiling blood; the twitch of a wolf whose prey evaded his swiftest attack. He knows she can’t run forever, but the hunt weaves frustration and eagerness on his face nonetheless. He accepts and loosens his possessive hold, though his eyes betray his thoughts.

A hunger so profound and restless darkens his gaze, and you almost want him to have refused your little diversion. To have taken you however he pleased, tell you that you’ll be the most perfect mother for his pups and show you what it truly meant to belong to a northerner.

But alas, you drift away into the crystalline pond, and even the smouldering waters feel colder without his skin on yours.

Your giggle bounces off the cave walls with an echo so sweet to his ears that you thought for a moment he may pounce on you and end the wait. But he remained restrained, slowly following you further behind stalagmites.

Luring him further deep into the springs, you twist and turn in the rippling waters from moment to moment just to gaze at him, just to see more and more of him; the way he carefully got up to freeze the image of you swimming naked in his mind. You watch the droplets run down his stomach, the shine of the dimly lit cave mirrored in his irises.

“You have such beautiful eyes, lover.”

“Lover.” He retorts, his tone almost a threat. “Nigh yours they’re naught but stones beneath frostfires.”

You blush at the deftness of his compliment.

“Though winter blooms only ever endure if they grow in the shadow of stout stones. There is more beauty in living to defend than in living to survive.” You declare, still backing away, intimidated but enticed by his stalking pace approaching you.

He smiles, distracted by your cleverness.

“We must be perfect for eachother then.”

He leaps with no warning, wanting to entrap you back in his arms. You avoid his swift hands only with the merit of water slowing him down. As he catches his balance, you push yourself onto your elbows on the edge of the pond, coming to raise to your feet in front of him.

It is the first time he truly sees you, no turned back, no waves or foam to veil you. His eyes rake across your body shamelessly, a reminder of how you’re his. The air, however steamy, hits you with the slightest cold gust, and your skin prickles with goosebumps, nipples hardening as your skin weeps with a sheer shroud of damp varnish; a statue of beauty and desire.

You ought to feel at the very least timid under his hungry gaze, but you don’t. You feel wanted, adored by his expression alone, and near want and adoration there is no place for coyness. You feel precious and pure, so that you offer yourself to him, allow him to touch you for he has earned it.

The sense of great importance yet dissolves quickly as he, too, rises from the waters, seemingly reaching for his prize. You don’t wait to see him entirely because if you did, you would have seen him at the cost of your freedom.

With a leap and a giddy scream, you sprint through the cave to evade him. Your heart thumps too fast for you to even have the courage to look behind, though you hear the water splashing violently in your wake. You decide to dive back into the pond and hide into a crevice.

You can only hear your rash breathing as you search around the rocky shores for him.

Suvion’s back horns twitch in his sleep, slightly disturbed by your raucous play, but nonetheless calm.

Strong arms curl around your middle, not tight enough to hurt and not loose enough for you to fight back. With a yelp, you give in and settle back against his chest, turning your head just enough to see his face. His erection brushes up your thigh, and you lose all willingness to delay.

“A man can only be so strong.” He adjusts his hold, keeping one arm around you, moving your hair from your neck with his other hand, baring the skin above your shoulder. “- when his pretty lady wife gets all naked and wet and dances around him so happily just to drive him mad.”

You feel his hot breath over your pulse.

“Do you enjoy seeing my need get so dire, flower?”

“I do.”

“Then it seems I have awfully neglected my duties as husband. I might just have to remind you that you haven’t wed some craven southern lord who doesn’t have the guts to take what is his when he wants it.”

You arch back slowly, feeling him up. He places a firm hand on your shoulder and pushes you into a more manageable position, taking you by surprise. You try to brace yourself with your palms on any stone you could find, while his own hands ride down your back, stopping at your hips to grip the supple flesh of your arse.

A pleasured gasp fills your lungs as Cregan brings his hard cock to rub on your tender flower. He groans at the feeling, teasing you so close yet so far from pleasure.

As your own hips begin to move in sync with his, chasing the promised intrusion, one of his hands roams your belly, your waist, his warm, calloused palm setting your skin aflame in its wake. His fingers reach the underside of your right breast, and your breathing stops; as if you’re afraid any more movement might dismiss his touch.

“Cregan.”

His palm remains on your ribs, and your whole being silently begs for him to continue.

“Don’t fret, I’m not leaving your side, wife. This is for your own good.”

“I don’t --” Your protest is cut short as both his hands reach your breasts, fondling firmly.

Your body feels inexplicably light and soft in his arms as he lifts your torso back against his chest, his large, rough hands not once breaking away from your tits. You’re cornered, at his will.

His mouth finds your neck, licking and biting away as you resume his motions where he stopped, pushing your ass into his groin and asking him in the most primal ways to take you at once.

“I cannot wait to see you heavy with child.” He caresses your lower belly, and you feel his cock twitch between your thighs in excitement at the thought. “Do you want that, my love?”

“Of course I do - ” You confess with a trembling, quiet moan.

“Say it, then, wife.” He interrupts, clearly overrun with heat and desire.

“I want – ah” He kisses down your neck, one of his hands leaving your breasts to slide his fingers over the petals of your cunt. He hums approvingly, bringing the head of his cock to your core. You’re soaked in more ways than one. “ - I want your babes, please, Cregan, you- ”

You mewl as he pushes in, the water splashing right above your knees. Pleasure shifts into pain and pain into pleasure as he takes your maidenhood, mounting you with a bruising hold on your waist. He groans with you, his breathing laboured. At a particularly sharp sting, you whimper, making him stop to plant a kiss on your shoulder blade. You can’t move, you can’t think of anything but him, the scent of him, the sounds that escape straight from his throat, his warm hands on you.

An echo of his guttural groans makes you clench around him, making him halt right before he could bottom out. You feel him up in your guts, though his girth stings worst.

He pushes you forward again, a hand on your neck and another providing leverage on your hip. Giving a few well measured thrusts, he starts to properly move. Your back arched for him, thighs parting, your essence coating his cock like you were made to take his seed.

Your own moans spur him on as he quickly finds his pace, relentless and steady. His heavy balls slam against your sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing your breaths out with every lunge of his hips into your behind.

“Fuck, I want to see you. Ugh, I want to-” He grunts, drawing his still hard cock out of your cunt with a pained curse, your own insides squeezing him on his way out.

You yelp as he picks you up the way he picked you up on the way back from the Weirwood tree on your wedding night, taking you out of the warm waters and walking over to his discarded furs on the cave floor.

The air is suddenly brisk on your damp skin, but your husband is quick to climb on top of you and shield you from the cold with his own body heat.

He gazes at you with such wonder and adoration in his eyes you, for a mere moment, swear you could faint from it all. When lust seeps back into his pupils you don’t fail to notice, his lips finding yours in a messy, wet kiss. You sigh into it to catch the breath you still haven’t found since he left you, he breaks it to groan as he grabs himself in his hand to re-enter you.

You both gasp, forehead to forehead as you meet again, his cock twitching as he once again pushes through your vestal resistance. When he begins to pound, you curl your legs around his hips and tangle your hands in his dark hair.

A sweet cacophony of conjoined sighs and groans reverberates into the cave walls, ever so slightly eclipsed by the waterfalls. With every thrust you start to climb towards your peak, and with every one of your “Cregan!”, “Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop!” he grows closer to his own.

Your own little death finds you as he presses his lips to the sensitive trails he’d found on your neck before biting down to muffle his own pleasure. He pushes in with a few final lunges, and you feel his cock pulsate and release his seed.

You suddenly grow insanely hot as you come down, though you don’t hesitate to snuggle at his side on the soft furs as he drops beside you panting and dragging your smaller frame with him.

“It took, lover.” You break the silence, speaking into his neck.

He turns to you, pleased and interested.

“I know it did.” You explain, smiling up at him. “I know it.”

“Even if it didn’t, we have plenty of time to try, flower.”

a/n if i missed tags sorry guys also will soon show u suvion<3

tags:

@ohsnapitzmarvelficrec @crypticlxrsh @louiselouve @karmaswitch @just-pure-trash @yujyujj @cost234 @dracaryxzs @cherrymallowtm @lady-targaryens-world @lightdragonrayne @krokietino @sukunassfinger @ithilwen-blackwood @rey26 @beebeechaos @melsunshine @aemondwhoresworld @romeavecryst @raynetargaryan2 @fireandblood-mharmie @mitski9328373 @drwho-ess @dorkysupernova @nitimurinvetitumsposts @ghitakhnifissa @darylspersonalwhore @helo1281917 @delaynew @poochies04 @accidentpronedork @fiction-fanfic-reader @rha3nyra @wallacewillow0773638 @star-serpent @potionsclub @moadvx @jellybeanstacey0519 @italianchameleon @ephemeralninon @sithapprentice @cloveradora @hawkins-2000 @thatspiderwebinthecorner @wolvestitches @idohknow @nyxbranwenn @asteria33 @nina6708 @r-3dlips

[vxnuslogy]

– jealous charms.

pairing: wise x gn!reader

premise: when jealous, wise had an interesting habit of trying to outdo whoever caught your attention. he needn't worry though, he'll still be your favorite forever.

– warnings: none

– author's note: another filler fic until i finish that one sunday fic that i've been marinating for 2 days now. | ~1.7k words.

“master, is it safe to conclude that you’re jealous of miss grace howards from belobog industries? you’ve been awfully engrossed in trying to replicate her creation for [name].”

a loud clatter echoed in the room as the pair of pliers in wise’s hand suddenly dropped to his work table. your head darts to wise’s hunched figure. his back was awfully straight and shoulders tensed as you raised an amused brow at him when he stood up from his seat and marched his way to fairy. muttering quiet curses as the bangboo on your lap tilted its head at him.

“is that why you’ve been glaring at her whenever we visit the construction site?” you questioned with a teasing tone. wise swiveled his head to your direction and narrowed his gentle eyes at you but you only let out an amused snort. he looked more like a wet cat than a big shot proxy with the way his cheeks burned red all the way to the tips of his ears. the color could probably rival the red tassel earring you gave him last year on chinese new years.

“firstly, i am not jealous–”

“i would beg to differ, master.”

“second!” wise turned to fairy, a hand to his hip while the other ran down his face, voice raising slightly as he tried to rid off the flustered tint on his cheeks. “if i were to be jealous of someone, it wouldn’t be grace.”

“will mister anton from belobog industries be the next candidate?” the ai quipped at him making the gray haired boy groan in frustration.

a laugh rippled from your chest as wise pouted and begrudgingly went back to his work station. but not before narrowing his eyes one last time at a glowing blue eyeball (?) that was fairy.

“aww wise it’s okay,” you gently place the bangboo down on the floor and make your way to wise. trying your hardest to take a peek at whatever he’s been working on. or at least get confirmation that he was actually making what you thought he was making. “everyone gets jealous sometimes.”

wise didn’t appreciate your teasing remark because he rolled his eyes at you and threw a piece of paper at your face. “seeing as though you’re not doing anything, do me a favor and pick up some more films for the store.”

it was your turn to pout. “jealousy doesn’t suit you at all, wise.”

with a sigh, you reluctantly left the room when he raised a brow at you with a smirk tugging at his lips. you hated how such a small quirk up of his lips melted all of your teasing. but then again, when it comes to anything related to wise you didn’t put up too much of a fight, no matter what it was.

– –

wise was not jealous. he repeatedly reminded himself of those words like a broken record. reciting it like a mantra in his head as he continued to bend and break the pieces of metal in front of him.

“master, now that the subject of your affection is gone, will you finally admit to being jealous?”

fairy’s words sent a shiver down his spine, silently thanking belle and you for going out to the arcade and prolonging your inevitable return even more. if either one of you heard fairy, he wouldn’t be able to live it down. a defeated sigh left his lips when he dropped his tools and buried his head in his arms.

“fairy, please just shut up.” wise’s voice was no more than a muffled plea as fairy continued to torment him.

“but all the data i’ve collected all share the same conclusion: you are jealous master.”

wise turned his head to their hdd system that glowed blue as fairy’s avatar floated. “okay so maybe i am a little jealous.” 

“but why, master?” wise felt an oncoming headache approach as fairy listed out the reason why he shouldn’t be jealous. “hollow raider [name] has made it clear on many occasions that they favor you the most. their sudden interest in miss grace howards cannot compare to their interest in you.”

wise knew that but it still didn’t feel right to him. with a groan he dropped his head back on the desk, his free hand coming to inspect the silver band he’s been working on for the past few weeks. “you’re making me feel stupid here, fairy.” an uncharacteristic pout graced his lips when he remembered how your eyes shined like bright diamonds when grace showed you her newest invention.

“it’ll help you in the hollows!” she had proudly proclaimed. and ever since that day, you’ve been wearing the bracelet that doubled as a tracker for both your health and your position to every mission you took on. wise felt the pricks of jealousy whenever you praised the older woman with a dazzling grin and an excited “it was very helpful!”

“i’m also helpful.” he muttered to no one in particular. 

“of course you are! you’re my proxy after all.”

wise felt his heart lurch out his chest as he hurried hid the band inside his hand when you appeared in the room. like a deer caught in headlights, he stiffly smiled at you. “w-when did you get back…?” he cooly asked, or at least he hoped it sounded cool enough for you to brush off whatever you heard.

with your hands behind your back, you stalked your way to his desk. “just a moment ago. belle is shelving all the new films now.” you lean in closer to wise’s space, trying for the second time to catch a glimpse at whatever it was he was working on. a tentative smile forming on your face when you ask him, “will you finally show me what you’re making? i won’t laugh, i promise.”

you certainly wouldn’t laugh, but you would tease him relentlessly. a final sigh escaped him as he leaned back on his seat and opened up the hand that hid his creation. “it’s… really nothing.” his voice was unusually timid when you walked over to his desk and took a peak. being in such close proximity with you has his poor heart and mind swimming. you wore perfume today and it was all wise could think about as you gingerly pick up the silver band.

“you need to give yourself more credit, wise.” 

this wasn’t good. if you continued to look at him like that he would surely melt into a puddle, and that would be incredibly embarrassing. a smile broke out from your face as you unclipped grace’s wristband and put wise’s creation on your wrist.

“does it have any functions?” wise has always enjoyed your curious nature. sure, it got you in trouble most of the time, but he found it incredibly endearing. he shook his head and opened up the closest drawer and pulled out a matching band several sizes smaller. “not any advanced ones, not yet at least.”

wise stood up from his seat and picked up the bangboo peacefully dozing off in one of the corners. taking its small arm gently, he slid the band over and glowed a soft white. the same thing happened to the one you wore and wise swore he felt his heart skip a few beats when you looked at him with big eyes filled with wonder.

“but it can accurately track your ether aptitude and send me an emergency message when you’re reaching your limit,” picking up the bangboo in his arms, wise made his way back to his desk and placed the little creature on it. “it’s still a work in progress, but i hope it’ll eventually be able to map out full hollows without much trouble.” 

your silence made wise nervous. you were never this quiet and he didn’t dare to look at you. that is until he felt a pair of arms wrap around his head and the scent of your perfume invading his senses. his breath started to quicken as you nuzzled your face into his hair, hands resting on his shoulders. wise felt his entire body tingle when your chuckle vibrated through his entire body and left a fuzzy feeling in his chest, a swarm of freed butterflies fluttering inside his stomach when you pulled away. warm hands holding both of his cheeks that were no doubt burning a bright red.

“did you make this for me?” wise didn’t like the way your eyes crinkled into amused crescents. “or did you just want to outstage miss grace?” he heard your laugh ring out when he turned his head to the side and murmured a soft maybe into your palm.

“god you’re so cute you know that?” a wide smile spread across your face as you smothered the boy into another hug. “don’t worry, no one could ever replace my proxy.”

wise wasn’t a physically affectionate person, not by a lot at least. but right now when he feels your laughter so close to his heart, he can’t help but wish to stay in your embrace. his arms slowly snaked to wrap around your waist and pull you closer, wanting to hug you like how your skin hugs the bones that make up your entirety. how lovely it must be to live inside your heart, to feel every beat pulsing through him as he listens to your heartbeat. slightly erratic but still calm, so unlike his that was beating so rapidly he feared it might escape his ribs and offer itself to you. 

“maybe i was a little jealous.” he didn’t know what urged him to say that but the laughter it stole from you made him smile like a fool. wise would stay jealous forever if you would hug him like this every time to assure him that he was still your favorite form of protection.

“thank you for always caring about me, wise.” there was such vulnerability in your voice that made wise tremble in your hold. all he could offer was a hum as he buried his head further into your chest making you chuckle. if only you knew the lengths he would go to just to keep you glued to his side, away from all harm and danger.

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.

[dhoranbolt]

You don't fool me

A/n: two thing- first this took me forever to write, I kept having to go back and scrap ideas 🥹 second, I did not know just how down bad I was for this man until I had to sit down and write this so.

Also friendly reminder- if your age isn't easily accessible on your profile I will not be tagging you! That said if you'd like a tag in future works let me know and I'll add you to the list!

bestie beta reader: @yukios-medic you are really the best ma'am I appreciate you so much 🥹💙💙💙

Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader, Yuji pining

cw/tw: minors/ageless blogs DNI, all characters aged up, dub-con that becomes enthusiastic consent, unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, threats of killing

Word count: 5k (ish)

This wasn't the first time they'd been paired up and sent off to find and kill a curse, but it was the first time Yuji was weary of the whole thing. They were both strong, that wasn't an issue – he'd been on back-to-back missions for weeks and it was starting to take its toll, that was the issue.

Of course, it didn't help that whenever he was around her, Sukuna would become an even bigger pain in the ass (than he already was).

They'd been sent to a long-abandoned warehouse, falling apart as it was, and radiating with cursed energy. Yep, whatever it was they were after was definitely in here.

"Split up to cover more ground?" She suggested as she looked up at him, but he shook his head.

"We can probably exorcize it quicker if we come across it at the same time, we should just stick together for now." It was a simple enough explanation, not a hint of 'I'm pushing my limits just being here with you' or 'it's easier to know you're safe if you're by my side' detectable.

To her, at least. Yuji chooses to ignore the scoff that resonates in his head as they cautiously enter the building. They walk side-by-side down the hallway, ears and eyes analyzing every detail of their surroundings.

"Must be one pain in the ass curse to send the both of us. I can feel the cursed energy everywhere, I just can't tell exactly where the source is." She filled the silence, wringing her hands together nervously.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s out there, but it's all about the same output. We'll just have to watch our backs." Yuji said with a nod.

"Hey, what do you think Nobara did when she found out Gojo canceled movie night to send us after this one? I can see her practically popping a vein." She laughed softly, moving around a stack of boxes to find any sign of their curse.

"Fushiguro is probably wishing it was you that got left behind right about now." Yuji guessed with a small chuckle, suppressing the thought that he might have wished for it, too. A faint gurgle sounded at the opposite end of the hall, cursed energy seeping into every corner of their bodies as it grew closer.

Yuji covered her mouth with his hand, keeping her scream muffled as he tugged her against his chest and pulled them into the shadows.

"Shh, I think I hear something." He murmurs, squinting in the darkness. He doesn't feel the mouth form on his hand, not until her lips are moving against his palm as she makes a noise.

She's gagging; trying to pry Yuji's hand off her face. And he's going to – until Sukuna's voice rings in his head.

'Pull away and I'll bite her tongue off. Try to keep her quiet while she's drowning in her own blood'

Yuji froze as Sukuna cackled, and she still struggled in his grip, now like iron to keep the curse from making good on his threat.

His name was muffled when she frantically tried to call it, but it only left her mouth open that much more for Sukuna to swipe his tongue along the inside.

If they could conceal their own cursed energy for just a second, then it would keep going on its path to the left of them, and probably wouldn't circle back around for a while. Yuji set his jaw, glaring up the hall as he spoke.

"Conceal your energy, then we'll deal with him. One curse at a time." The only confirmation she gave that she heard him was slightly loosening her grip on his arm.

The curse slunk away and Yuji held his breath, waiting to hear any sign of it coming back. When he was sure it wasn’t, he let out a sigh and threw his head back against the wall. Taking a moment to realize the situation they were still in he looked down at her.

He couldn’t see the blush in her cheeks, but he could feel the heat on his fingers. She shifted her body against his, letting out a whimper at the awkward kiss she was still locked in.

Yuji swallowed hard and took a deep breath. This was so not the time to be letting the sounds she was making go straight to his cock.

'You want her so badly, take her.' Sukuna taunted.

"No." Yuji snapped his response, trying to think of a way out of this (and the boner he was starting to sport against her back).

'Fuck her, brat. Or I'll kill her the next time I get the chance, and I'll draw it out while I make you watch.'

Sukuna knew well what he was doing, keeping this conversation in Yuji's head. She had no clue what he was trying to shield her from. Of course he wanted her, but not like this. Not when Sukuna was all but forcing his hand on the matter, not even giving her a choice.

“I said no! Knock it off!” Sukuna just chuckled, and she turned her head to look up at him with worry in her eyes.

'Or perhaps you’d like me to put us both out of commission. Tell me, just how long do you think she’d last against this curse on her own?'

Yuji’s heart dropped to his stomach. There’s no way Sukuna hated her enough to let her die like this, not with the way he found her so entertaining to him. Not with the way he currently had his tongue down the back of her throat- right?

'No, but if it would cause you everlasting turmoil, I’d jump at the chance.'

Could she ever forgive him for doing this? Would Sukuna even drop this after all was said and done?

Yuji was exhausted, and Sukuna knew it too. It was only a matter of time before he could slip out and swap places.

'I could always assist instead. After all, one wrong move and she’s on her own anyways. Go ahead brat, ask me for my help.' He grinned.

“No, last time I let you out you were a dick.” Yuji snapped, but he was running out of options here. How long until that curse realized where they were and turned back around? He could always make a deal with Sukuna, if he would agree to it was another question though.

At the sound of Yuji’s words her body tensed, blood running cold. There was no way Yuji was actually thinking about letting the king of curses out into the wild, especially when he already had her in this position.

'Tic-toc punk ass, this offer isn’t going to last forever.'

“Promise you won’t hurt her first.” Her eyes went wide and she began to struggle in his grasp again, body going hot. Screaming through his palm and Sukuna’s tongue as well as she could manage in protest.

There is no way he’s about to offer his body over to Sukuna right now, and all she could think about were all the previous times he’d spoken to her – though, at her might be a better word. Everything he’d said up to this point, his promises to absolutely wreck her- all came flooding back. Could they really not handle this job any other way than to bring Sukuna into the mix?

'You humans are so predictable, really fucking takes the fun out of everything. I’ll get rid of the curse. Just say you aren’t strong enough, you need a real man to do your dirty work for you.'

“That’s not-”

'Going once…'

“I don’t-”

'Going TWICE...'

“Fine! I need your help, please.” She was hysterical at this point, thrashing in his grip as much as she could, grinding her ass into him harder every time she moved.

'That doesn’t sound like what we agreed to, try again.'

Yuji groaned, thankful he could use that as an excuse to let out some of his frustrations.

“Sukuna please, I’m not strong enough and need a real man to do my dirty work for me.” Yuji bit out, and she stilled at his words, stomach knotting. Any minute now, Sukuna would be breathing down her neck. Months of sexual tension, mostly from his side - would it finally come to a head now? Or would he leave it and just get the job done, let Yuji take back over when it was safe–

A low chuckle rumbled from behind her, and the sound ran straight through her body to her core. She swallowed, realizing the tongue down her throat had finally disappeared.

Sukuna ran a hand up her chest before resting it on her throat.

“Well, well, this is certainly a turn of events, isn’t it?” She whimpered, frozen in place. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

“Sukuna…” She breathed his name warily.

“Surprised to see me? I did tell you I’d have you some day. So, how was I? It’s been a few hundred years. You’ll have to excuse the fact I’m a little rusty.” Sukuna filled the silence, not waiting for an answer.

“You weren’t too bad yourself; I think I even felt you participating at the end. Care for more?” He whispered in her ear, tongue flicking out to lick her lobe. She bit back her moan, clamping her knees together as she gently rocked back into him. He laughed, moving his hands down her body to grip her hips and pull her in closer against him.

“Oh, don’t be shy now, it’s just us. The brat won’t even know, it can be our little secret.”

“I-” She stammered, face hot. So what if she’d gone back to her room at the end of a long day full of Sukuna teasing her, and closed her eyes while chanting his name under the sheets? So what if being the object of the king of curses’ endless teasing was what she used to push her over the edge some nights? That was all by her choice - she was in charge.

Currently having Sukuna’s painfully rock-hard cock prodding her ass while he held her tight against him? She was so clearly not in charge, and to make matters worse? The realization sent her core gushing.

“I can smell you,” he continued, taking in a long breath. And this time she couldn’t bite back her moan.

“Sukuna!” She gasped, feeling the blush run up her ears.

“I think you should really stop being such a cock-tease, woman. No wonder Yuji can’t help but fuck his fist most nights. I bet he can smell you too, he just spares your feelings by not saying anything.” The fog he’d brought with him was starting to clear, and she tried to pry his fingers off of her.

“Stop! You’re lying!” But Sukuna just threw his head back in a cackle.

“I actually don’t care if you believe me, do you want to know why?” He stepped out from behind her so quickly, shoving her back against the wall, it made her head spin. Looking up at his tattooed face and red eyes only solidified how real this situation was for her - and her mouth went dry. He grinned down at her, gripping her chin to hold her in place.

“I’m going to fuck you through this wall. You won’t be able to look at that stupid brat without thinking of me inside you ever again. And he’ll never know because he’s out cold.” Using his free hand, he ripped off her skirt. She cried out, trying to grip his wrist and stop her panties from meeting the same fate.

“Aww, still shy, are we?” He teased as he examined the red lace, running his fingers down to the ever-growing wet spot on them.

“N-No!” Sukuna just chuckled, watching her face morph from flustered to pleasure at his touch.

“And look, you even wore red just for me. How cute of you.” She moaned, closing her eyes. The physical and mental teasing was too much. If he wasn’t going to kill her, she was going to die of embarrassment. He sucked his teeth, hooking his thumb into her mouth and tugging her face.

“Look at me while I touch you, I won’t tell you twice.” He snapped, and her heart thrummed in her chest. It felt so good to finally have him touch her after all this time, she’d forgotten just how dangerous he was in the moment. She nodded sheepishly.

“Good, you listen well for a sorcerer. I don’t believe in praising those beneath me, but I think I’ll make an exception just this once.” He pressed his fingers against her core, watching the way she squirmed under him.

“You’re so wet already and I’ve barely touched you, was my tongue down your throat just what you needed?” Her head was spinning, his hold on her jaw rough, but all she could picture was wrapping her lips around him.

She slid her tongue around his thumb cautiously, watching his reaction for any sign that she’d miss-stepped.

He groaned, smirking down at her as he leaned closer.

“And here you’d have everyone believing you’re too innocent for such filthy things.” Finding the edge of her panties, he pushed them aside, running his fingers through her slick folds. He watched as she moaned, satisfaction settling on his face as the moan grew louder when he pushed a finger inside of her.

“God you’re so tight, there’s no way that brat could stuff his cock in you.” Her walls flexed at his words. Sukuna’s one finger was already so thick, and now her mind was swimming with the thought of having more.

“But don’t worry, you’ll take it from me.” And then she felt a second finger at her entrance, making her eyes open wider. She tried to speak as best she could around the awkward hold he still had her in, but it didn’t matter.

“Suku-na!” She cried out as he forced another finger into her.

“I’d be thanking me if I were you. I’m feeling generous enough to stretch you out before I ram my cock into your stomach.” He offered, grinning as he watched her try and hold herself together.

He didn’t wait for her to adjust to the feeling, why would he? Fucking her open on him was all he could think about while he sat bored on his throne - not that he was admitting it aloud.

So many days, weeks, months, of him wrapped up in her. He knew exactly what she was doing to him, even if she didn’t.

“Was it worth it to parade around like a whore in heat around us?” He asked as he began to slide his fingers in and out of her.

“You know I offered him the chance to have you first. Humans and their virtues though, so fickle. Of course, the brat couldn’t do this.” He pressed his palm against her cunt, and her back arched off the wall as his tongue shot out to flatten on her clit.

Letting go of her chin he wrapped his hand around her neck, giving it a testing squeeze before trailing down to her chest. Groping over her top, and then easily ripping the buttons away.

“Not my clothes!” She protested, but if he heard, he ignored her. Choosing instead to knead her breast as it spilled over her matching bra. Sukuna chuckled, looking back at her.

“The matching set, I’m starting to think you really did wear this just for me. Is that what you do? Under all those clothes you put on, you wear red hoping I’ll catch a glimpse. Hoping I’ll come out to rip it off of you.” He spoke as he rolled her bud roughly between his fingertips.

“God!” She cried out. He was everywhere. Pumping his fingers further inside her walls, tongue abusing her clit-

“I’ll be your god.” He hissed, before leaning down to suck her nipple into his mouth.

She was fast approaching the edge, gasping for air as he shot her towards her peak.

He curled his fingers inside of her, reaching a new angle that sent white hot pleasure shooting through her body.

“Sukuna!” She choked out, reaching up to ball her hands into his top. She was wary of touching him at first, opting to press against the wall instead. But it was all too much. She needed something more to try and ground herself through the first orgasm he was going to rip from her body.

“You gonna cum, little sorcerer?” He hummed around a mouthful of her breast, looking up at her expectantly. She already looked so cute and fucked out for him; grinding into his hand to push him further inside, face flushed as she whimpered his name over, brows pinched up while she looked down to him with a breathless nod.

“Please Sukuna...” If he wasn’t so pent up himself, he might have stopped what he was doing, but edging her would only edge him, and he had no interest in prolonging his own pleasure any more than being stuck in the passenger seat of his vessel already had.

For this encounter, anyways. So, he gave her what she wanted, driving his fingers faster into her cunt, biting down on the nipple currently still in his mouth, while his other hand roughly pinched at the other.

He could feel how close she was. It was getting harder to slide his fingers back into her, and he couldn’t wait to sink into her.

When he didn’t slow down or stop, she took it as permission, though, the tip of the iceberg was so close that even if he had told her no, she wasn’t sure she could have stopped, anyway.

It crashed over her in waves, throwing her against the wall as she cried out his name. Everything was gone - her sight, her hearing, all she could do was ride against his hand, and hope that their grasp on each other was enough to keep her standing through the intensity of it all.

Even when her high started to ebb away, he was still lazily pumping his fingers inside of her. Slowly the world came back to her, heartbeat pounding in her ears, and she whined.

“Aww, is someone sensitive?” He pulled away from her chest with a grin, red eyes glinting as he stared down at her dazed expression. She weakly pushed against his chest, trying to get him to stop while she regained some semblance of normal breathing.

“Sukuna…”

“Well, aren’t you going to thank me?” She swallowed hard, still trying to find her way out of the haze.

“I- thank you...” He pulled his fingers out of her, chuckling at the whimper that left her lips. Raising his hand to his mouth, he kept his eyes on her as he sucked his fingers clean.

“Mmm, I don’t think so.”

“What?” Confusion crossed her face, and he pressed the same two fingers against her parted lips, looking on in admiration as she opened them without question. Sukuna pressed his fingers against her tongue, pulling her mouth open as he did.

“Those red panties you’re wearing will be sufficient.”

“What?” The word left her mouth again, and he raised an eyebrow, dragging his fingers down her tongue and out of her mouth. She stared at him for only a second more before leaning down to slide them off her hips. She looked down to keep from fumbling, but he hooked his finger under her chin, tilting her face back up to him.

“I didn’t say you could look away.” She bit her lip, shimmying awkwardly to slide them down her knees. Stepping one foot out of them at a time, she began to lift them up. He grabbed them from her, large fingers brushing her own as he did.

She moved to stand up again, but he stopped her, shaking his head.

“On second thought, I don’t think one pair of panties is worth a mind-numbing orgasm, do you?” But it wasn’t really a question, not when he was already guiding her to her knees in front of him. The floor below her was cold - a shock that her core, still radiating heat, could feel.

“Be a good girl and open wide,” he said, reaching into his pants to take hold of his neglected cock. Pulling it out, he ran his thumb over the tip, smearing his precum up and down his length.

Sukuna groaned, gritting his teeth. The brat could imagine all he wanted; it would never compare to having her right here in front of him. Small hands braced on his thighs, eyes blown wide as she took in just how fucked she was about to be.

“See something you like?” Her breath hitched as he knocked his fat tip against her bottom lip. She slowly opened her mouth, tongue sliding out and against the underside of his cock. He groaned again, grabbing the back of her head as he forced himself into her mouth.

She dug her nails into his thighs as he did, trying in vain to pull her head back so she could breathe.

“You’re not acting very grateful. Don’t make me fuck your throat, I’ll end up hurting your feelings.” He chuckled. Tears were already welling in her eyes as she choked on what he could fit in her mouth. Slowly, she removed a hand off from his thigh, reaching down to run her fingers through her folds. When she’d gathered enough of her release, she reached back up to pump the rest of him with it.

“How resourceful of you. Makes me want to fuck my cock down your throat all the more.” She moaned around his length, gently rocking him as far as she could take him. Part of her was screaming for air, the other wanted to make him feel just as good as he’d made her feel moments ago. The fog was back, and she blinked the tears away as she looked up at him.

His jaw was tense, one hand still at the back of her head, the other balled in a fist and braced against the wall. Before this she’d only seen him when he was a mouth and one eye, stirring up chaos on Yuji’s cheek. Looking up at him now, though, red eyes trained on her and black markings all over his body - he was breathtaking.

All-powerful and terrifying as hell, considering that he could kill her in an instant, but breathtaking, nonetheless. She let her other hand slide down his leg to rest between her own, pressing her fingers into herself - only to whine in disappointment when it felt nothing like him.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you? I’ve gone hundreds of years without, and you just can’t wait for another.” She breathed hard through her nose, trying to take in as much air as she could before he hit the back of her throat again. Black dots buzzed at the corners of her vision, the sound of her choking on what she could take echoed through the hall.

Her jaw was pried open at a painful angle to accommodate him, and he wasn’t showing any signs of stopping. Her grasp on his cock grew slack, and she wasn’t fighting him every time he knocked his tip just a little further into her mouth. Her own fingers stilled in her aching walls, eyelids fighting to stay open.

Sukuna huffed, sliding his hand around to smack at her cheek.

“Don’t go passing out on me now, I’m not finished with you just yet.” And he pulled out of her mouth with a loud squelch as she gasped for air. The lightheaded feeling slowly dissipated as she looked up at him, tears and spit covering her face.

“You did okay. For now. We’ll revisit that later, get up.” She didn’t have to be told twice, rising on wobbly legs as quickly as she could. The thought occurred to her, that she was practically naked in front of him, while he was still fully clothed. She swallowed hard, trying to wipe away some of the shame along with the tears.

But he didn’t give her much time to wallow in her self-pity, quickly turning her around and pinning her to the cool wall. She shivered at the feeling of his solid body pressed into her back, erection still wet with her spit as it bounced on her bare ass.

“Maybe next time, I’ll let you look at me while I fuck you.” He breathed down her neck, grabbing his length and rubbing it through her folds. She dug her nails into the wall; he barely fit her mouth, there was no way she was ready–

“Relax, I’m not interested in breaking you the first time around. It would ruin the fun in watching you look at me in anticipation every time you’re around.” And he wasn’t wrong. Hell, he was still here, and the anticipation was coursing through her. Taking a slow breath she waited, thankful that the cool wall was enough to ease the heat on her face.

Sukuna gripped her hip and hooked his tip at her entrance before pushing in. She gritted her teeth, moaning at the already over-full feeling. For the situation being what it was, he was fairly gentle as he steadily eased himself through her tight walls with a prolonged hiss. She could only stay pressed against the wall, jaw dropped in a silent moan as he filled her out inch by agonizing inch. Her eyes rolled, body unsure if she should cry out in pleasure or pain.

“God look at you, practically foaming at the mouth. What would your sorcerers say if they caught you like this, hmm?” He groaned, bucking his hips up into hers. Her voice finally caught up to her, and she cried out, nails scraping down the wall as she clawed for anything to keep her grounded.

He didn’t quite fit all the way, but it only turned Sukuna on even more. Of course, he couldn’t fit - but he would. He would break her open on his cock as many times as he needed, until she fit him like a second skin. Until he was the only thing she could think about whenever she tried to seek pleasure elsewhere.

She was playing a game she had no clue about, and Sukuna was going to win. He laughed as he grabbed her hips, pulling out to slam back into her walls. They sucked him in and tried to keep him out all at the same time.

“Sukuna, fuck!” She moaned, reaching behind her to slow him down. He said he wasn’t going to break her, but the rough pace he’d set was literally fucking the air right out of her lungs. Her walls squeezed him tighter, and he moaned.

“Too much for you already, princess? I’m just getting started.” Sukuna grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head.

“Too much, fuck, ‘s too much!”

“I’m not that brat, you’ll take what I give you exactly how I give it to you. Don’t piss me off, I’m in such a giving mood, right now!” He snaked his other hand around her, tongue darting out to swirl around her clit. Sukuna grinned. In an attempt to get away, she only managed to shove herself further onto his cock.

“Sukuna please, I don’t…Please!”

“Short circuiting, and I’m not even close yet. Shall we see just how many times I can make you cry before I’m finally satisfied?” Her mind was melting, she didn’t care anymore. What was she even begging for? Him to stop? Or maybe she was begging him not to stop. She’d never been filled up like this before; even the pain was pleasurable now. All she could do was stand against this wall and take it, anyway. Her body relaxed against him slightly, and he grinned.

“Is there something you want from me, little sorcerer?” She bit her wobbly lip hard, trying to focus on his words.

“I want- I wanna cum.”

“That so?” She nodded with a whimper.

“Beg, and I’ll think about it.” She couldn’t even be bothered with the feelings of shame looming overhead. She wanted one thing, and if begging was all she needed to do to achieve it, well…

“Please I wanna cum.” She whined, hands flexing in his grasp.

“Beg more, you can do better than that.”

“Please Sukuna please I wanna cum, never wanted to cum so bad. Please make me cum on your cock please I-” She was a wailing mess, she didn’t care who heard her pleas, only that he might answer them. His tongue licked at her folds, snaking around his length to tease her from every side.

He rocked her into her second orgasm, reveling in the feeling of her tightening around him as she screamed.

God, he needed to feel it again. The way her walls fluttered around his thickness, trying to close around the strain of taking him. The feeling was maddening, and Sukuna was sure he could pull another one from her immediately, he just needed to pick up the pace as he rammed his cock harder into her.

The wet sound of his second mouth lapping at her, mixed with her moaning variations of his name and ‘fuck don’t stop’ was more than enough to catch the attention of anyone close by, and as absorbed as Sukuna was in this little game, he wouldn’t let his guard down. He was sure she didn’t even remember what they were here for anymore at this point. If the whites of her rolled eyes and the drool currently sliding down the wall where her face was pressed against it were any indication, anyway.

He could feel her whole body start to twitch and tighten, and he knew she was close again. Two orgasms in, and he knew her body so well already. He’d put that knowledge to good use later.

“Go ahead little sorcerer, scream for me.” And she came hard, walls clamping down on him, practically shoving him out while she did. It was enough to send him reeling, too. Hips slamming up into her, he sank his teeth into her shoulder as he finished with a growl. If they weren’t both so wrapped up in each other, they might have realized he growled ‘mine.’ He painted her insides in white hot ropes, stilling when the euphoria finished washing over him.

“If you think that was mind-numbing, just wait until I get ahold of you in my true form.” Sukuna whispered against the shell of her ear.

He pulled out with a groan, watching her whole body quiver as he did.

“Clean yourself up.” She finally looked back at him, brows knit. He ripped the sleeve off his jacket, handing it over to her. When she tried to pull it, his grip tightened, and he looked at her expectantly.

“Thank you…” She said quietly as she cleared her throat.

“Such a good girl for me already, I don’t even have to train you. I’ll be back, be ready to leave when I am.”

“Wait where-”

“There’s still a job to do here, isn’t there? I’ve got a curse to kill.” He smirked as he walked backwards up the hall.

Yuji wouldn’t be awake for a while, plenty of time for Sukuna to hide his prize. One of the many he planned on taking from her, he thought as he twirled the red panties on his finger.

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[mad-hunts]

it was awfully random, in his opinion, but the urge to yawn suddenly hit barton after he pushed the glass over to jervis; his head dipping as he did so before he rose it up once more. god's, barton could not bring himself to hate anyone right now even if he tried. there was more than a bit of a 'floaty' feeling stuck in his brain now like honey. so, as you might imagine, the only look that barton was able to conjure up was a neutral one with a hint of something else lingering beneath the surface. maybe it had to do with the last remaining vestiges of humanity that he had left. and/or, that barton was simply expanding upon the quiet acknowledgement that he'd made already towards the other. it showcased that he knew jervis was in some sort of pain and it also wasn't easy for him to deal with it.

whatever the case might've been, when barton met jervis's own, they were arguably a lot less aggressive than they'd been before. it was probably the closest to soft that he was ever going to get in fact. imagine that, barton thought. a man who was once called a 'beautiful monster' by none other than the guy he was in an on-again and off-again relationship with making an attempt to console someone he barely knew. the comment made him want to punch laurent square in the face just as much as it did before regarding of it being a 'joke', of course. but now it had another connotation to it that he didn't realize before: that even his 'kindness' was cruel as monster's can't possibly be capable of doing anything even slightly good. but laurent was wrong about that. for, although barton certainly didn't think that what he'd just done was something so utterly significant that it would absolve himself of all the blood on his hands (especially since barton didn't think anything could at this point), there was nothing in this for him.

no reward. and barton didn't want one, either. he then banished all thoughts of that prick from his mind as one could definitely say that they were on the 'outs' right now. so, barton wasn't going to even grant laurent the pleasure of being on his mind any longer, pushing his plate to the side of himself. a light sigh slipped through barton's lips then. what others thought of him was not something he contemplated very often when it wasn't nightfall, in all honesty. however... some part of barton wondered what the news had taken to considering him to be. would they use a very blah way to describe the person who killed marty, like they're 'dangerous,' as he originally thought? or would they try to sensationalize it by calling them something akin to a 'psychopath?' it almost made him curious enough to turn on the TV, but they probably had enough to worry about with all these people who had phones on them. they were like mini computers now.

psychopath. he never did like that word very much. that's when barton was brought back to reality by jervis talking, but he honestly couldn't be sure whether it was to him. barton silently rose an eyebrow at him and just watched over the other briefly. now that he thought about it, he had seen him looking past him about one or two times during their conversations, as if jervis was privy to something that barton wasn't. he wasn't going to ask him about it because it simply wasn't his business but he had mentioned having ECT forced on him. which could theoretically be used to treat, and he says theoretically because the way they did it in arkham was all wrong, depression, catatonia, schizophrenia. things like that. barton put his head down on both his arms while they were on the counter. what a truly messed-up way to try to make them 'better,' like all of those quacks in the asylum were always phrasing it.

whenever jervis accepted the glass, barton in particular fixated on the accidental brushing of the scars he could feel on jervis's skin. he supposed so he didn't have to have his mind be quiet once more; a downturned smile ever-so-slightly tugging at barton's lips as he watched the other take a bite out of it. that's when he heard the sound of the door to the restaurant opening, and simultaneously, ravi had come out with another plate of his curry. ❝ here you go — ❞ he slowly put it down in front of barton before turning his head to look at who just came in with a surprised look on his face. barton was just about to himself, only for a very well-dressed matilda to lean her body to one side and say 'boo,' effectively scaring barton.

matilda couldn't help but laugh at that before barton murmured a soft, albeit not actually malicious sounding but playful instead, ❝ oh, my god, matilda. you know i love you but i hate you so much right now, ❞ ravi placed a hand on his shoulder and snorted slightly before saying, ❝ hey, be nice to your daughter, mister i-got-attacked-by-a-bear. and you better take his ass to the hospital or i'm hunting both of you down. ❞ the man left without another word, then, though matilda called after him, ❝ it was nice to see you too, ravi! now let me see this. oh, wow. it really does look like you got attacked by a bear. you didn't do this to him, did you? ❞ his daughter was now talking to jervis as she looked at him through narrowed eyes and did something to the wound to make barton protest. ❝ uhh, ow! and no, he didn't. he's obviously too much of a goody-goody to. ❞ barton stated sarcastically. he knew that, if jervis wanted to hurt him, it'd probably be in a much more... creative way now.

Jervis glanced at Barton through his lashes, mouth twitching at the corners. All of the condensed energy within his frame seemed to evaporate like spring dew with that simple gesture, the other man’s words hesitantly sprouting between them like leaves on an olive branch. A beat stretched. Jervis took another spoonful of his soup, chewed the chicken and rice, shut his eyes as the broth trickled down his throat.

At this moment, he was absolutely certain of two things. First, Jervis was touched - genuinely touched - at this second, seeming entirely unprompted act of kindness on Barton’s behalf. And then, a sense of dread begin to sink into the pit of his stomach, as he wondered why exactly Barton was offering him the falooda. What possible ulterior motives did he have this time? A flicker of tension began to rise in his jaw, but it soon snuffed itself out as his teeth accidentally misaligned in mid-bite around the spoon, digging into the callused tissue rimming the underside of his bottom lip. Jervis flinched, one hand immediately flying to his mouth to assess the damage.

It was nothing drastic by any means, no blood had been shed, but that one slip in self-control almost hurt worse. Whatever dregs of revulsion and irritation remained inside him melted, replaced by the familiar, sour notes of shame and self-reproach. Ahh, I deserved that one. Fair enough. After all, they had been stonewalling since they first stepped out of that transport van and into Jamie’s car. Surely, now that they had broken bread together, they could enjoy a temporary peace.

Whatever happened to the Golden Rule, Jervis? Is your hatred of the man so strong, it overrides everything else? He can’t wear the Dollmaker’s mask any longer than you can put on the Hatter’s mantle or pilfer Carroll. You’re both human, after all, not comic book villains. Besides, throwing the offer and the falooda in his face, however small the satisfaction may be, will only widen the chasm between you both. What you need right now is an ally, even if it’s circumstantial.

As if hearing his thoughts, Sylvie clicked her tongue, cocked her head thoughtfully as she looked at him over Barton’s shoulder; her mist-colored eyes sharp and cold as January sleet. “And here I thought I was the petty one between the two of us. What, are you going to spit at him? Pour the soup in his lap? Good; that’s fine. You piss him off, he has second-degree burns, what then? Do you really think that’s wise? Of course not, you’re not an idiot, and you’re not a cruel man. So, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“… it’s fine,” Jervis mumbled numbly, dropping his gaze. “You needn’t worry.” His hands shook, clammy beneath the black leather that encased them. He had no idea if he was speaking to Barton or to the shadowy thing just behind where he sat. “I’ve had… a lot on my mind, as you can probably tell. I lose my train of thought… things can sometimes go mad.” He raised his right hand, extended it to free the glove on the opposite side from where it had bunched around his knuckles once again, only to freeze. His skin crawled at the thought of exposure, but between the escape and the means of its procurement, the trip back to Gotham in Jamie’s car, the bathroom, and now here at this table… the gloves were positively soiled now. The filed edges of Barton’s nails caught the light. There was no way in hell he would’ve been allowed to grow them while he was legitimately practicing medicine…

“The ball’s in your court,” Sylvie drawled. “You’ve got the wolf by the ear, and you don’t even realize it.” The slightest hint of mockery colored the outlines of her words. Jervis’ ears burned. Goosebumps flared. She was getting closer now, her pale features hardening, all the color in her cheeks bleaching itself away, like paint receding from marble. “What’re you going to do about it? Can’t make an omelette without breaking a few eggs, isn’t that what you always told me? What would Alice think of you now?”

This wasn’t her. Not his wife. Not Sylvie, not the mother of their child, not the love of his life. Merely something dark and twisted inside him, something he didn’t want to acknowledge —something he was afraid to address, that that recognition would supersede all the positive traits within him, all the warmth and joy and optimism and kindness and the capacity for love —

His left hand mechanically clenched around his right, tore off the filthy glove. The bare appendage wrapped itself around the base of the proffered falooda glass as Barton hesitantly nudged it towards him. For the briefest of moments, the other man’s nails grazed against the old calluses and the web of scars and contusions marring Jervis’ skin. He raised his head, met Barton’s eyes; saw the earnestness there, the uncertainty, all bleeding together.

Jervis glanced back behind Barton. Sylvie — or whatever figment of his imagination or paranoia or only God knew had taken her face, her voice, her demeanor — had vanished. His heart sank. For just a moment, he wished she had remained there… even if, he rationalized, it wasn’t really her. Or had it been, after all? A peek behind the veils that separated them? The chill of the glass and the soft pink hue of its contents washed over him. He exhaled. Perhaps he didn’t want to know for certain, after all. If there truly was an afterlife… wouldn’t he know by now? Jervis flexed his fingers; took the spoon, scooped up a bite, and savored the falooda’s rich, creamy texture.

Truce.

[shdysders]

what we were

pairing: tara carpenter & reader

summary: in which you would’ve married tara, if she had stuck around.

word count: 4.9k

author’s note: just bare with me.

You had never planned on getting married.

It wasn't a conscious decision, just something that slowly etched itself into the back of your mind as the years passed.

Growing up, you'd watched your mother pick up the pieces after your father left, her quiet strength masking the pain that you knew lingered beneath the surface.

There was no bitter divorce or fiery arguments to signal his departure—just the gradual fading of a man who was once the center of your world.

One day, he was gone, leaving only the hollow echo of promises that were never meant to be kept.

Your mother never talked much about it, but you could see the toll it took on her.

How she would stare out of the kitchen window a little too long, lost in memories that were best left untouched.

You learned early on that love, in its most idealized form, was fragile—something that could shatter without warning, leaving you to pick up the shards.

So, you built walls, fortified them with indifference, and told yourself that you didn't need anyone to complete you.

Marriage was a fairy tale, one that you had long since stopped believing in.

That was, until you met Tara.

Tara, was everything you never knew you needed; sharp-witted, fiercely independent, with a heart bigger than she'd ever admit.

The first time you met her, you were caught off guard by how effortlessly she seemed to break through the walls you'd spent years constructing.

It wasn't just her smile, though that alone could've disarmed you; it was the way she looked at you, like she saw past the armor you wore and straight into the core of who you were.

You tried to keep your distance at first, reminding yourself that you didn't believe in forever. But Tara wasn't the kind of person you could easily push away.

She had this way of showing up when you least expected it, making you laugh when you wanted to be serious, and staying when you needed someone most—even when you couldn't admit it.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the idea of a life without her became more terrifying than the fear of losing her.

It wasn't that the old wounds from your past magically healed, or that the doubts you harbored suddenly disappeared.

But with Tara, the possibility of something lasting felt less like a fairy tale and more like something real—something you could hold onto, despite the uncertainties that lingered in the corners of your mind.

You found yourself imagining a future, not in the abstract way you used to, where it was always just you—alone and self-reliant—but a future that included her.

The thought scared you, but it also made you feel something you hadn't felt in a long time: hope.

It wasn't long before Tara started talking about you to her friends, and soon after, you found yourself meeting the people who meant the most to her.

A few months into your relationship, Tara built up the courage to allow you to meet Sam.

From everything Tara had told you about her sister, you quickly learned that Sam was hard to please.

She was fiercely protective, always scrutinizing anyone who got close to Tara, and you figured you'd be just another name on her list of disapprovals.

However, that was never the case.

Tara later explained how surprised she was when Sam actually warmed up to you.

She had told you how Sam had admitted that, for the first time, she didn't feel the need to interrogate or push you away.

Sam had seen something in you that made her feel comfortable, something that made her believe you were different from the others who had come before. It was an unspoken approval, one that Tara knew was rare and precious.

The approval was more than just a stamp of acceptance; it was a sign that maybe, just maybe, you were capable of the kind of love you'd always doubted existed—at least for you.

But even then, despite the closeness you and Tara shared, you never thought you'd be the kind of person who'd want to settle down, to make that ultimate commitment.

Marriage was still an abstract concept, one that other people did, but never you.

You had convinced yourself that you didn't need a ring or a ceremony to validate what you and Tara had.

But as the months turned into years, you started to realize that it wasn't about the validation. It was about wanting to build something with her—something lasting and undeniable.

You found yourself imagining a future where Tara was by your side, not just in an abstract sense, but in every way that mattered.

The thought of proposing crept into your mind one day, completely unbidden, and you immediately tried to push it away. You weren't the type to get down on one knee, to promise forever when you knew how easily forever could be taken away.

Yet, the idea persisted, lingering at the edge of your thoughts, especially during the quiet moments when Tara was asleep beside you, her hand resting gently on your chest, as if she was anchoring you to her.

You'd never imagined yourself as the kind of person who would propose to anyone. The very idea felt foreign, as if it belonged to someone else's story. But with Tara, you started to wonder if maybe, just maybe, you'd been wrong all along.

It wasn't that you suddenly believed in marriage as a concept, but rather, you believed in what you had with Tara.

Maybe this was exactly the kind of story you wanted to write—a story where you weren't afraid to say, "I choose you," not just today, but every day for the rest of your life.

Two years into your relationship, you made the decision to propose.

Surprisingly, you had even gotten Sam's permission, something you never thought you'd need but found yourself seeking anyway, wanting her blessing before taking such a significant step.

The idea had been slowly taking shape in your mind, and now it felt like the right time. You wanted it to be perfect, not flashy or over-the-top, but something that felt true to both of you.

One of your usual date nights seemed like the perfect setting—familiar, yet with the potential to become something unforgettable.

You decided to make the night extra special. When you suggested going to a more expensive restaurant than your usual spots, Tara was visibly surprised.

She had raised an eyebrow and teased you about suddenly getting fancy, almost saying no because of the high prices.

But when you offered to cover everything, her smile had softened, and she had agreed.

You knew that Tara wasn't one for grand gestures or extravagant displays, which is why you kept the details simple yet meaningful.

The restaurant was intimate, with dim lighting and a cozy atmosphere, the kind of place where you could easily lose yourselves in conversation.

You had made sure to pick a spot that you knew Tara would love—somewhere that felt like the two of you, but elevated just enough to mark the occasion.

As the evening approached, you could feel the anticipation building, but there was also a sense of calm.

This wasn't about proving anything or trying to impress her; it was about sharing a moment that would forever change the course of your lives together, for the better.

You had planned every detail carefully, but more than anything, you just wanted to tell Tara exactly what you'd been feeling for so long—that you couldn't imagine a future without her, and that you didn't want to.

When the time finally came, you chose to wear the sundress that Tara had once told you she loved on you. It was a soft, flowing dress in a shade of pale blue that always made you feel both comfortable and confident.

You wore your hair half up, half down, just the way Tara liked it, with a few loose strands framing your face. You wanted to look your best, but more importantly, you wanted to look like yourself—the person Tara fell in love with.

Tara arrived in a sleek, black blouse paired with dark jeans, an outfit that was effortlessly chic and perfectly her.

The way she carried herself always took your breath away, and tonight was no different. But as you sat across from each other at the candle-lit table, you noticed that she seemed a bit off.

Tara was looking around nervously, her eyes darting from the menu to the other diners, then back to you, as if she had something else on her mind.

Your own nerves were starting to bubble up, the weight of what you were about to do making your heart race.

You couldn't shake the anxious thoughts running through your head—what if you didn't find the right words, or if the moment didn't go as planned?

But every time Tara's eyes met yours, you found yourself smiling. It was impossible not to. Even with the nerves, even with the uncertainty of how she might react, you knew that this was the right decision.

As you both settled into the evening, your food arrived, and you began eating, trying to keep the conversation flowing naturally despite the butterflies in your stomach.

You had it all planned out. The proposal was going to happen after you both had finished your meal.

You knew Tara's appreciation for surprises and had arranged something special with the restaurant staff. When the time came, a waitress would bring out a beautifully wrapped box, something you had requested to make the moment even more memorable.

It was a small gesture, but one that you knew Tara would appreciate—a carefully wrapped box with a heartfelt message inside that symbolized the depth of your feelings.

The idea was for Tara to open the box and discover a note or memento that would lead into the proposal.

The plan was for Tara to see the message first, giving you just enough time to reach for the ring and get down on one knee before she fully realized what was happening.

You imagined the look of surprise and joy on her face as she opened the box, unaware that this was just the beginning of the moment you had carefully orchestrated.

You kept up the conversation, trying to keep things light and natural despite the nervous energy building inside you.

Tara seemed a little distracted, still glancing around the room every now and then, but you didn't press her on it. You wanted everything to feel as normal as possible until the big reveal.

Every bite was a mix of anticipation and excitement, your heart pounding as you mentally rehearsed what you were going to say.

Tara, on the other hand, seemed to be in her own world, picking at her food more than usual and occasionally glancing around the room, almost as if she had something else on her mind.

You couldn't help but feel a bit of nervousness from her too.

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that soon, you'd be asking the most important question of your life.

As you were both eating in comfortable silence, Tara suddenly set down her fork and shifted in her seat. She looked like she was trying to gather her thoughts, and then she spoke up, her voice soft but uncertain.

"So..." she began, her eyes filled with nervous energy as she looked up at you. You immediately sensed that whatever she was about to say was important, so you paused, giving her your full attention.

"I've been thinking about something," she continued, her words tentative, as if she was unsure how to start.

For a brief moment, a thought flashed through your mind—was she planning to propose too?

But that idea was quickly replaced by a gnawing feeling of concern as you noticed the hesitation in her voice, the way she avoided your gaze for just a moment too long.

"I'm not really sure how to say this," she finally said, her voice wavering slightly. "But... I've been having some doubts lately. Not about us, exactly, but about... where we're headed. About the future."

Her words hit you like a cold splash of water, and suddenly the nervousness you'd been feeling took on a different edge. You forced yourself to stay calm, to keep listening as she continued.

"It's not that I don't love you," she said quickly, as if she could see the worry in your eyes. "I do, so much. But I've been wondering if we're moving too fast, or if maybe... we're not moving in the same direction anymore. I've thought a lot about it, and I keep coming back to the same thing. I don't know if I can keep going like this, if this is what's best for either of us."

Tara's voice cracked slightly as she continued, her words coming out in a rush, as if saying them faster would somehow make them hurt less.

"I've been thinking about this for a while, and I didn't know how to bring it up because the last thing I want is to hurt you. But the more I've thought about it, the more I realized that maybe this is the right thing, for both of us. I don't want you to think that this is about you, or that you did something wrong, because you haven't. You've been nothing but amazing, but I just... I think maybe we've grown in different directions, or maybe I'm just not in the right place to be in a relationship right now."

"I think... I think we need to take a step back. Maybe a break, or maybe... we need to stop this altogether."

She paused only briefly before continuing, her words stumbling over each other as she tried to justify what she was saying.

"I mean, I don't even know if I'm making sense right now, and I'm probably messing this up completely. But I just don't want us to keep going down this path if it's not the right one, you know? I care about you so much, and that's why this is so hard. I wish I could just... make this easier somehow."

You felt your heart shatter with each word, your entire body going cold as the reality of what she was saying set in. Your face must have betrayed the sheer disbelief and devastation you felt because Tara's eyes softened, but it did nothing to ease the pain ripping through you.

Your hands, which had been steady on the table, began to tremble uncontrollably. You quickly pulled them into your lap, trying to hide the shaking but finding it impossible to stop.

The fork you had been holding clattered against your plate as you set it down, your fingers no longer able to maintain their grip.

It felt like your mind was racing and shutting down all at once. You couldn't focus on her words, the constant stream of explanations and apologies blending into a blur of noise that only amplified the void growing in your chest.

It was as though the ground had disappeared beneath your feet, leaving you suspended in a moment of pure, paralyzing disbelief.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it only seemed to grow, making it hard to breathe.

The sting of tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked rapidly, refusing to let them fall, not here, not now.

Your lips parted, as if to say something, but no words came out. How could they, when everything you wanted to say felt too small, too insignificant compared to the enormity of what was happening?

The silence between you was suffocating, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat a painful reminder of the reality you were struggling to accept.

Tara's eyes were fixed on you, wide and pleading, as if she desperately wanted you to understand, to say something that would make this easier, but there was nothing you could offer her.

Your hands, now hidden beneath the table, clenched into fists so tightly that your nails dug into your palms, the pain barely registering against the overwhelming numbness that had settled in.

You could feel the warmth of the room closing in on you, the walls seeming to press closer as you fought to keep your composure.

Tara's voice broke the silence again, softer this time, almost a whisper. "I'm so sorry," she said, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I didn't want it to be like this. I wish I could take it all back, but I can't. I just... I didn't know how else to do this."

Her apology only added to the weight in your chest, and you could feel a tear finally escape, slipping down your cheek before you could stop it.

You quickly wiped it away, but it was too late—Tara had seen it, and the sight seemed to break something in her too.

She reached out, as if to comfort you, but hesitated, her hand hovering just above the table before she withdrew it again, uncertainty written all over her face.

It was as if she knew that any attempt to console you would only make things worse.

"I never wanted to hurt you," she whispered, the words barely audible as she looked down at her hands, now twisting together in her lap. "You have to believe that."

You wanted to scream, to demand why, to tell her how wrong she was, how she was breaking something that had been so good, so right.

But all you could do was sit there, frozen, as the weight of her words continued to sink in.

The future you had imagined, the plans you had started to make in your head—it all felt like it was crumbling before your eyes, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

The silence stretched on, heavy and oppressive, as you sat there, staring blankly at your lap. Tara's words seemed to hang in the air, and the weight of them was almost unbearable.

The tears you had been trying to hold back had started to fall more freely, slipping down your cheeks in a steady stream.

Tara watched you with a mix of anguish and desperation, her own eyes brimming with tears that she was struggling to keep at bay.

"Please," she said, her voice breaking as she finally spoke, "please say something."

Her plea was almost a whisper, but it carried the weight of her regret and her need for any kind of response from you. She was clearly tormented by the sight of you in pain and the realization that she was the cause.

As you sat there, lost in your turmoil, the restaurant's ambiance seemed to fade into the background.

The clinking of dishes and the soft murmur of conversations around you felt distant and muffled. The weight of the conversation you'd just had with Tara hung heavily in the air, each word echoing painfully in your mind.

Just then, the sound of footsteps approached your table, and a waitress appeared, holding a small, elegantly wrapped box. She smiled warmly as she set the box down in front of Tara. "Congratulations!" she said cheerfully.

The unexpected greeting cut through the somber mood, and Tara's eyes widened in surprise. Her gaze darted between the box and you, the reality of the situation hitting her with a jolt. "Oh... um, we didn't order anything like this," Tara said, her voice a mix of confusion and discomfort.

The waitress smiled politely. "It was actually a special request from someone who wanted to celebrate with you. I hope you enjoy it!"

Tara's face turned pale as the waitress walked away, leaving the box on the table. The cheerful congratulations seemed to hang in the air, contrasting starkly with the heavy silence that had enveloped the two of you.

As Tara stared at the box, the realization began to dawn on her. The weight of her words, the hurt she had caused, and the timing of this surprise all seemed to collide in her mind.

Her gaze fell back to you, the gravity of the moment settling in even more deeply. The congratulations, intended for a joyous occasion, now highlighted the painful irony of the situation.

Tara's hands trembled slightly as she reached for the box, her fingers hovering over it as if touching it might make the reality of what was happening even more real. "Is this... is this what I think it is?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mix of disbelief and dread.

You didn't respond right away, your eyes fixed on the box as well, but not really seeing it.

The moment you had spent weeks planning, imagining how it would unfold, had turned into a twisted echo of what it should have been.

The anticipation, the joy you had envisioned on her face, was replaced with this heavy, suffocating silence.

Tara's voice grew more desperate, almost pleading as she repeated, "Were you... were you going to propose?" Her eyes searched yours, looking for some kind of denial, something that could make this all less real, less painful.

You nodded slowly, your throat too tight to speak. The words you had prepared, the heartfelt confession of love and commitment, were now stuck somewhere deep inside, unreachable.

Tara's fingers trembled as she carefully unwrapped the box, her breath catching as she lifted the lid. Inside, nestled in a bed of velvet, was the ring—delicate, simple, and exactly her style. The realization hit her all at once, leaving her breathless.

She stared at it, eyes wide with the shock of realization.

She paused, her breath shaky as she tried to form a coherent thought. "I... I thought we were on the same page. I thought... God, I didn't mean for it to be like this."

You could see the tears welling up in her eyes, but you couldn't bring yourself to say anything. The words felt too heavy, too final. All you could do was sit there, the ring between you like a painful reminder of what could have been.

She looked up at you, her eyes filled with regret. "I... I didn't think..." she started, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the right words.

The box, meant to be a celebratory gesture, now seemed like a painful reminder of everything that was unraveling.

The sight of the box, coupled with the realization of how her actions had intersected with the surprise, only deepened the sadness in the room.

She knew that the box was part of a carefully planned proposal—a gesture that was supposed to mark a new chapter in your lives together.

Her thoughts were consumed by the realization of what you had intended.

She could almost see the moment you had envisioned: the box opening to reveal a heartfelt message or token that would lead into a proposal.

Tara had always admired how much thought you put into your plans, and she could imagine the love and hope you had poured into this gesture.

The irony of the situation hit her. Hard.

Here was a beautiful, wrapped box that was meant to symbolize a future together, and yet, it was now sitting in front of her at a moment when the future seemed so uncertain.

The very thing that was supposed to be a celebration of your commitment was now a reminder of the choice she had made.

Tara felt a deep pang of regret as she thought about how much you wanted to marry her, how you had envisioned this proposal as a milestone in your relationship.

How you had trusted her enough. 

She grappled with the realization that while you had been preparing to take a significant step forward, she was now pulling away.

The box represented everything she was suddenly unsure about, and the emotional weight of that contradiction was almost unbearable.

The anticipation and excitement she might have felt for the proposal were overshadowed by the painful reality of the moment, making her wish more than ever that things could be different.

As Tara struggled with the emotional weight of the moment, another waitress approached your table with a notepad in hand.

"Excuse me," she said with a bright smile, "are you ready to order your desserts?"

The question seemed to pierce through the heavy atmosphere, and you sniffled before looking up with tear-filled eyes. Your voice was barely above a whisper, trembling as you said, "I don't think we're staying for dessert. I think we're going to leave."

Tara's heart broke at the sight of you, her own tears threatening to spill as she saw the pain in your eyes.

The sadness in your voice, coupled with the way you tried to hold yourself together, was almost too much for her to bear.

The image of you standing there, so small and hurt, was a stark contrast to the joyful proposal you had imagined.

As you began to stand up, Tara's voice cracked as she reached out, her hands shaking. "Y/N, please don't leave."

She paused, searching for the right words, her voice filled with desperation. "Please, let's just... talk this through. I don't want to lose you like this. There's so much I need to say."

Tara's gaze was locked on you, her eyes pleading as she took a shaky breath. The pain of the situation was evident in her expression, and she hoped against hope that you would stay, if only for a little while longer.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure as you finally spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's fine, Tara."

But your voice betrayed you, shaking as you said the words, even though nothing about this felt fine.

You wanted to say more, to explain how lost and hurt you felt, but the words caught in your throat, and all you could do was shake your head slightly. "I just... I don't know what to say."

You sniffled, quickly wiping away a tear that escaped before Tara could see it. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" But even as you said it, the words felt empty, like a promise you weren't sure you could keep.

Without waiting for a response, you stood up from the table, your movements stiff and mechanical, as if you were on autopilot.

Tara watched you, her eyes wide with guilt and fear, but she stayed silent, her throat tightening as she saw the pain etched on your face.

You turned to leave, and Tara instinctively stood up, almost as if to follow, but she stopped herself.

Her hand gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles white as she held herself back. She knew she couldn't make this better right now, and the weight of that realization pressed heavily on her chest.

You pushed open the door, the night air hitting you as you stepped outside.

For a moment, you paused, feeling the tears threatening to spill over again, but you forced yourself to keep walking, each step taking you further away from the person you thought you'd spend your life with.

Inside the restaurant, Tara remained standing, her heart aching with a crushing guilt she couldn't shake.

She wanted to call out to you, to beg you to come back, but the words wouldn't come.

All she could do was watch as you disappeared into the night, the echo of your voice—the pain in it—ringing in her ears.

And as the door swung shut behind you, Tara was left standing there, alone, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on her.

She didn't move, didn't sit back down, just stood there, staring at the spot where you had been, feeling like everything had just slipped through her fingers.

But she knew, deep down, that following you wouldn't fix this—that nothing she could say right now would take away the hurt she had caused.

And that was something she would have to live with.

So she stayed where she was, the guilt heavy and suffocating, knowing that all she could do was wait and hope that this wasn't the last time she'd see you.

But she also knew that, for now, there was nothing more she could do.

Walking away, every step was taking you further from the life you thought you'd have, the future that had seemed so certain just hours before.

You had believed that you and Tara were writing the same story, that the future you both wanted was shared, built on a foundation of love and dreams whispered late into the night.

But standing there, with her words unraveling everything you thought was certain, you realized that while you had been planning a lifetime together, she had been questioning if that future was ever truly meant to be.

The hardest part wasn't just hearing her doubts—it was understanding that she had quietly let go of the future you were still holding onto.

She had left that future behind long before she ever said the words, moving on from the life you thought you would share.

And now, all that was left were the pieces of a dream that you had been building alone.

[deadboyswalking]

Right after Zoro and Sanji get engaged, only hours from the proposal, they have an interesting late-night conversation.

"Gonna have to be a long engagement, Curly."

"And why's that?" Sanji asks sleepily from his comfortable position lying on Zoro's chest, "Having second thoughts already?"

"No!" Zoro replies, a bit too sharply before softening, "It'll just be a while until we can get back to the East Blue."

Sanji is silent for a long moment.

"Do you still have... family there?" he asks.

"No, but you do," Zoro says quietly, "You'd be sad if your old man weren't there."

Oh. Sanji hasn't even had a chance to think about Zeff yet, but Zoro has. Though Sanji was the one to propose, Zoro has clearly been thinking about this for a while. Zoro knows how important Zeff is to Sanji, how much Sanji loves The Baratie and the chefs there, and he's already planning for them to go back home for their wedding.

It's so different from Whole Cake Island, an unfamiliar and extravagant place where Sanji had been surrounded by detested blood relations, enemies, and strangers while he awaited political marriage to a sweet girl he barely knew. But Zoro knows Sanji and knows what he really wants, even if Sanji would never make a fuss and bring it up himself.

Sanji has never felt this loved.

"Yeah, the geezer would probably kill me if I got married and didn't invite him," Sanji finally says, his voice thick with emotion, "And The Baratie is the only place I'd trust to make my wedding feast."

"We could invite my sensei," Zoro adds, "And Johnny and Yosaku, if those two idiots haven't gotten themselves killed. I think they settled down in Nami's village."

"What about Mihawk?" Sanji asks.

"If I haven't defeated him yet, sure," Zoro grumbles, "He likes fancy restaurants and he'd probably get along with my sensei. Perona too since she'd haunt me forever if I left her out. What about Ivankov?"

Sanji grimaces, mostly for show.

"I'll invite Iva, but I don't think he'll show up. He's way too busy with his kingdom and the Revolutionary Army to go all the way to the East Blue just for our wedding."

Zoro hums in thought.

"I think you're wrong about that. Who else?"

Needless to say, by the time they finally fall asleep their tentative guest list has over 500 names on it. Even if Zoro and Sanji aren't quite as sociable as their captain (who they'll definitely have to restrain from inviting everyone he's ever met to their wedding), all of the Straw Hat Pirates have made many friends on their journey and will make more by the time they get back to the East Blue.

Sanji's last thought before drifting off in the arms of the man he loves is wondering how much advance notice he should give Zeff before his beloved restaurant is swarmed by all of the friends that the lonely little boy he saved grew up to have.

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐥

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: FELIX X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: FAE!FELIX, HUMAN!READER, BREEDING, FORBIDDEN LOVE, MARKING, UNPROTECTED SEX, CREAMPIE, IMPLIED PREVIOUS ROUNDS, THEYRE IN LOVE YOUR HONOR, MENTION PREGNANCY/KIDS ☾ ━━━ WC: 0.6K ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Felix knew not to cross the veil between the fae and human realm. It was an unspoken rule among the fae folk. And as far as they knew, humans knew nothing about them. Still, Felix managed to sneak over and meet Y/n. Falling in love with the human. 

     No other fae seemed to notice his outings. Outings where he was gone for days at a time and everything was normal when he came back. Sometimes sneaking Y/n back with him. Hiding her in her his country side home. 

     “You should stay here,” Felix mentioned as they laid in his bed, kissing her neck as his fingers danced on her skin. Both just having woken up after they were up all night. 

     “I wish I could,” Y/n sighed as she ran her fingers through his long blonde hair. 

     “I could go to the human realm with you. Stay with you there,” He offered as he lifted his head from her neck 

     “If one of us has to move, I’d want to move here. I like the faerie realm more than my own,” Y/n told him. 

     “Then stay,” Felix giggled

     “What if someone finds out i'm here? What if they send me back—“

     “I have friends that know magic. You’ll adapt overtime but if we need it quicker, I can ask.”

     “How?”

     “Changelings adapt to look like us. We have spells to help.”

     “You’ve thought this all out,” Y/n teased 

     “Everything for you. I want you forever.”

     Felix smiled as he intertwined their fingers and pressed them into the pillow 

     “I want you forever too.” 

     The fae pressed his lips to hers which Y/n happily responded to the kiss and wrapped her legs around his hips. Pulling him closer to her. “Didn’t get enough of me last night?” Felix teased

     “I never have enough of you,” Y/n responded 

     “Guess I’ll just never pull out of you again.”

     “You’ve never needed to.”

     Felix pulled one of his hands out of hers and grabbed the base of his cock. Pumping himself a few times and pressing his tip to her entrance. Gently pushing into her as she grabbed the back of his neck with her free hand. 

     “I love you,” Felix mumbled into her mouth 

     “I love you too,” Y/n moaned as he filled her with his cock. 

     Felix smiled as he started thrusting into his human lover. Lips wandering from hers and down to her neck. Letting her moans fill his bedroom— their bedroom.

     “Lix,” Y/n moaned 

     “Mm. I’ll never grow tired of you moaning my name,” Felix groaned as his pace picked up. Listening to her moans pick up too.

     “Need,” Y/n gasped as his tip hit right on that precious spot inside her

     “What do you need? Tell me love.”

     “You. Need you to cum in me. Please lix!”

     “Want me to fill you up? Bare my children for me?”

     “Yes! Please! Wanna have your —“ her pleas are cut off as he hit the spot again. Felix adjusted himself and aimed for the spot again and again. Effectively turning his lover into mush as she shook under him. Her essence covering his cock. 

     The fae moaned as she clenched around him tight. Pulling him in deeper till he was buried in her, cum filling her womb. Adding to the mix from last night when she begged for the same thing. 

     Felix pulled his softening cock out of her once he came back down to reality. Laying next to her and pulling her onto his chest. “‘M never letting you go,” he mumbled into the top of her head

     “‘m never leaving you.”

☾ ━━━━━━ KINKTOBER M. LIST     M.LIST    TIP JAR

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[frenziedfireworks]

Prefects Bathroom

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary : You couldn't help but want a bath in the prefects tub.. What happens when your rival finds you?

A/N : DAY ONE OF KINKTOBER !! I hope you enjoy :^)

CW : SMUT, 18+, Mean!Draco, Fem!Reader, dubcon, choking, degrading, orgasm denial

masterlist

You don’t know where the urge to bathe in the prefects tub came from but it was one you could not shake off. Day after day passed that you would think about it and finally the time came. You had enough of the thought bothering you. 

Your legs moved quickly as you avoided the prefects and made your way towards the bathroom. You had a few close run-ins but successfully made it. The room was exactly how you had imagined, and the water was already looking enticing. You turned on the soaps and began to strip, desperate to finally get respite. The bath was as good as your mind had convinced itself it would be. The water washed away at the aches and tensions in your muscles, your head leaning against the wall in bliss.

It wasn’t seconds later that the door opened and your heart stopped. You had forgotten to close the door.

You had forgotten to close the door?!

You pulled bubbles around you and tried to cover yourself as you met eyes with your intruder. Your heart stopped and no warmth within the bath could fill the cold void that hit you.

“What do we have here? Y/N out of bed and breaking the rules?” Malfoy sneered as he locked the door and moved just a bit closer. You could feel your blood boil and knew either way you were fucked. You had hated him since first year, finding his ego and arrogance to be over the top and disrespectful.

“Malfoy, do you have any manners? I’m nude. Give me some decency to at least get dressed please.” You growled out as his footsteps stopped and he smirked.

“Oh but dear, why should I do that? It’s not like you’re a human anyways. Little bug is begging for decency. Ha!” His eyes glared into yours awaiting what nasty retort you could make.

You were left in quite the conundrum. Your clothes were more than a few steps away and the bubbles weren’t going to last forever. On top of that, Malfoy was no gentleman and would definitely get a kick out of seeing you like this. So there was only one option left - get up and turn it on him.

You took a deep breath and slowly swam to the stairs, stepping out of the tub. You stared at Malfoy as his eyes widened and he took in your form. You came closer to him, your hand reaching out to barely brush his.

“Enjoying the show Malfoy? I’m sure you’ve never seen a woman before anyways.” You whispered and a groan left his lips. You laughed at his pathetic display and turned around to go grab your clothes. It was obvious that you had won the little battle, even if it was at the loss of your dignity.

At least you thought, until you felt his grip on your wrists and he turned you around.

“Of course I’ve seen women before. I’ve added up quite the list. I will enjoy adding your name to it.” Draco yanked you towards him and your eyes widened. Was he being serious? He seriously thinks you would let him have you?

“That’s priceless Malfoy. I would rather die than sleep with the likes of you.”

“Then you can die taking my cock.” Draco’s hand wandered up to your throat and tightened, his face dangerously close to yours. You felt dirty at the fact that you convulsed around nothing, his words lighting a flame throughout your body,

“This isn’t right.” You smacked at his chest and his grin only grew.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t fucking want it then.” Draco’s voice still held malice but it seemed more towards himself. You couldn’t help but stay silent as his hands continued down your chest. His finger danced around your nipple, his cold eyes watching exactly what made you writhe. He leaned in, breath mingling across your ear.

“I’m going to ruin you.”

It was as if something erupted in the both of you. Draco’s mouth was on yours in seconds, his hands roaming across your nude form. Your lips shaped into his as your hands threw his cloak on the ground, desperate to have him.

“Ah, now pretty girl wants me? Talked a big talk beforehand.” Draco cackled and you grimaced. He really knew how to push your buttons. Lucky for you, two could play at that game.

“You think I’m pretty?” 

The silence was deafening as Draco rolled his eyes and leaned away to lick a stripe down your neck.

“I’ll fuck the attitude right out of you.”

“Any day now then.” You tapped at his neck, granting you a harsh tug at your hair.

“Fucking brat.”

His fingers crawled down, resting right above where you needed him most. You knew better than to expect kindness from the man. You pulled at his hand and placed it on your cunt, much to his surprise.

“Naughty little slag.” Draco digit moved through your folds, taking its sweet time to gather your slick. You squirmed in pleasure, waiting as he teased your hole.

“You want me to finger fuck you darling?” Draco cooed against your ear and you nodded quickly. You were much too desperate to play this little game anymore, your body taking control of your mind.

“Hmm.. You’re lucky I’m feeling generous. Only for a little though.” Draco pushed his fingers into you, stretching you out. You gripped at his shoulders, small moans leaving your mouth as he began to pump in and out.

“D-Draco..” You whispered and he raised an eyebrow in mock confusion.

“Is something wrong dear?” His tone matched his force, the next pump deeper than the last. You couldn’t help but gasp and feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. 

“Aw, are you about to cum?” Draco’s thumb moved down to your nub, stroking it with fervor. Your arms tightened around him as you drew up and then all at once it was gone. 

You would kill him.

“What the fuck Malfoy?!” You screeched and his wicked laughs filled the room.

“You didn’t think I’d let you cum on my fingers? You’re not that special darling. You can take my cock like the whore you are and that’s it.” Draco grabbed at your waist and didn’t wait to line himself up. 

“You fucker-”

“Oh yes, I am going to fuck you.” Draco retorted, shoveling his cock into your sopping hole. All you could do was grasp at the wall as he pushed you against it, basically smothering you into the stone.

His hand gripped at your throat as the other dug into your fleshy hip. It was sure to leave bruises tomorrow but you couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when his cock pummeled in and out of you at such a pace that it left you breathless.

“I-I fucking hate you. Walking around with this pretty ass and your attitude. Fucking finally get to teach you a lesson.” Draco’s grunts filled the room as his cock slammed further than you thought imaginable. You could only moan in response, your head feeling a bit dizzy from the lack of oxygen and pleasure.

“Fuck. Take it. Your pretty pussy was meant for me to ruin it. You hear me?” Draco continued to mumble nonsense as you clenched around him, rapidly approaching your orgasm. 

“Dra-co..”

“I know darling. I can feel you clenching me.. Fucking cum and make a mess like the slut you are.”

His lewd words broke the gates, sending you to your much awaited orgasm. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you felt him spill all over your ass.

Your breaths were the only thing filling the empty bathroom for the next few minutes until Draco adjusted himself and picked up his cloak.

“Don’t think I like you now because of this. Once a cocksleeve, always a cocksleeve.” He sneered as he handed you your clothes, slowly strutting out of the room. His words may have been cruel but you would celebrate one victory - at least he didn't turn you in.

[chleem]

Not a big deal pt3

miniseries; basketball player drew x high scl student reader

Summary: You lose your virginity to a random guy at a frat party miles away from your home. A few days later, you find out that he’s your brother’s competitor, for the regional colleges’ basketball tournament. 

Genre: strangers to lovers, smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: cursing, age gap (18 & 24), protected sex, etc.

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ bit long but enjoy! | p1 | p2

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

4 years later

“Drew, Drew Starkey.”

The waiter checks his name off the list, and gestures inside, “follow me then, Mr Starkey.”

Drew follows the waiter in, looking around the place. Hawks rented the entire restaurant for the night, just like every year, to celebrate the new season. It's his third season with Hawks, so he knew the procedures well enough now. 

Tonight will just be free food, bonding with teammates, etc. Could you say he was looking forward to it? No. He would much rather stay home, especially this year. 

Why especially this year? Because of his new teammate, Luke. 

It wasn’t hatred or anything; in fact, they had amazing chemistry on the court. Communicating through nods or glances, as if they’ve known each other for forever. Really, the coach was shocked at how good they did during preseason; he’s now convinced there’s a chance of winning. 

Luke seems to have matured, anger issues not the same as before and actually willing to listen to advice. He was friendly towards Drew, and overall, did not look so bothered about losing the championship during college anymore. 

It was Drew who felt uncomfortable around him. Why? Well, he fucked his virgin sister, who was 18 at the time. Worse, whenever Drew stares at Luke for too long, he sees your face. Your eyes, nose, lips, everything. 

“Nice suit, man,” one of Drew’s teammates and best friend, Jay, compliments him, as the two approach each other first. Every year it was required to wear formal for this occasion, since high executives would be here to celebrate too. Drew, has worn the same black suit for the third time now. 

“Yeah, same with you,” Drew smiles, the two of them engaging in a small hug. “Um, are we seated together?”

“Yeah, over there,” Jay points over to a table near the window. Each table had a maximum of six people, and already two of their teammates were there. “Man, we should some drinks first.”

“No need to remind me,” Drew replies, as the two of them head to the bar area. The goal is to get drunk enough so that the executive's’ speeches would sound interesting, but sober enough to make basic human interactions.

“So, you came alone this year too?” Jay asks, ordering a whiskey, which Drew also signals for. 

Drew smiles sourly, his friend reminding him about his single status again. Plenty of hookups throughout the years, but never a proper girlfriend due to his busy schedule. “Y’know me. Too busy for that shit.”

Jay nods, as the whiskeys are presented in front of them. Drew immediately downs his, while Jay just takes a small sip. “Well, I’m seeing someone, if you’re wondering.”

“No shit,” Drew laughs, thinking his friend is kidding. Jay smiles down at his drink, probably thinking about the girl. Oh. He really is seeing someone. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

“Her name’s Phoebe.”

“…and?”

“Yeah. That’s all I’m telling you.”

Drew shakes his head, ordering another whiskey. So much for being friends. “She has a sister, by the way,” Jay speaks up. Oh. Drew knew where this was going. “She might be the perfect one for you.”

Jay’s setting him up. Again. His friend has failed every single time, and it seems like he wasn’t gonna give up. “Hey man,” Drew pats Jay’s shoulder, pursing his lips. “Just quit, okay? I don’t date. Y’know that.”

“When’s the last time you’ve dated then? Have you ever even had a girlfriend?”

Drew frowns, taking his hand off his friend. “Just, no. Please.”

Drew hears a sigh from beside him, and when his second whiskey arrives, he sips on it slowly. “Fine. I just think, that you would be very happy in a relationship.”

Drew smiles against his cup, finding that statement ridiculous. Society was weird, thinking that if one stays single for too long, it meant that they were…depressed in some way. It was tiring. 

“Hey, Luke’s here,” Jay suddenly comments. Drew turns around, scanning the place for Luke. 

Sure enough, there he was. 

And fucking hell.  

His eyes land on you, standing beside Luke. 

Was it even you? He wasn’t so sure. From far away, it did look like you. 

“We should go greet him,” Jay elbows Drew. 

Drew did not want to greet him. He is very comfortable here, right next to the bar. 

But Jay urges him, leaving him no choice but to walk over. And until Drew was standing directly in front of Luke, was he sure that it was you. 

Fuck. 

Four years later, and Drew’s body still has reaction towards seeing you. It brings him back to the first night he laid eyes on you, thinking how innocent & pretty you looked in a crowd of drunk and chaotic college students. 

You look…amazing. Drew was pretty sure his eyes were widened to the maximum point right now, his brain trying to process the sight of you. Especially, the red dress you were wearing, that's making his imaginations run wild. 

No. He must be dreaming right now. After four years, he sees you again? No, this shit only happens in movies, red-string type shit. Was he getting drunk already?

“Um, Drew, you okay?”

Drew quickly averts his gaze back to Luke, his grip on his glass cup tightening. “Yeah, yeah, um, who’s this?” Does he sound cool right now? Because he wasn’t so sure if he was playing his usual chill self. 

Luke wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Meet my sister. Y/n. Y/n, this is Drew and Jay. My teammates.”

Shit. So it is you. The girl that Drew can’t seem to forget, the girl that haunts his wildest fantasies for four years now. 

When Drew makes eye contact with you, he expects you to have some sort of reaction. But you don’t. In fact, you just quickly glanced at him, a polite smile on your lips. Do you even remember him? “Nice to meet you,” your voice causes Drew to freeze yet again, his mind going back to that night. Your moans, your laugh, your-

“Dude,” Jay elbows Drew yet again. “Aren’t you going to shake her hand?”

It seems like you already shook Jay’s hand, and it's Drew’s turn now. 

He licks his lips embarrassingly, and he shakes your hand. Yep. No doubt it was you. He remembers clearly about the way you scratched his back that night, the tug of your hands in his hair, and your fingertips on his abs-

“Um, kind of need my hand back,” your voice cuts him out of his thoughts. 

Oh. He was still holding your hand. He retreats it reluctantly, feeling his ears heat up. Gosh, why is he so flustered right now? He feels the stares of Luke, or more, like glares. “So…where are we seated?” Luke asks. 

“Near the window.”

“Great. Um, we’re not late, are we?”

“No one really cares.”

Luke and Jay continue to engage in small talk, whereas Drew just gives up on listening. Not just give up, he literally was unable to engage in anything right now. It feels like he's in a dream.

He can’t tear his eyes away from you, absolutely captivated by you. By this matured, attractive presence you gave off. You were just standing there, trying to appear interested in this small talk. 

And a question he kept repeating in his head was: do you remember him, like how he remembers you? Do you still think about him from time to time, like he does about you?

You definitely can feel Drew’s stare, his stare making you feel as if you were under a microscope right now. You turn and meet his eyes, and he panics, yet again. 

Your eyes tell nothing, of whether or not you remember him. And the small smile you give him confirms it; you forgot about who he was. Fuck. Now Drew felt like the biggest fool to exist. 

“If everyone could get back to their seats! The food will arrive shortly,” the host announces through a loud microphone. 

“Let’s go then, I’m starving,” Luke squeezes your shoulders, to get you moving. 

“Same,” you look away from Drew, and let Luke guide you over to your table. 

Drew immediately gulps the rest of his whiskey down, loosening up his tie. Fuck. This was going to be a long night. 

——

Drew wasn’t one to eavesdrop. In fact, he hated eavesdroppers. Why are you listening on someone else’s private conversation?

Well, Drew hates himself very much right now. 

You sat near the window, at the very end of the table. Across from you was Drew’s other teammate, Kirk. He sat next to Kirk, and across from Luke. The whole night, it was very obvious that Kirk had a thing for you, asking you questions about your life, hobbies, etc.

So now, Drew knew that you’re currently studying law in college, you hate tomatoes but love ketchup, you like museums, you have a horrible sleep schedule, you want to adopt a cat, you hate the cold-

“You’re single, right?”

That makes Drew choke on his food, causing the table to pause and stare at him. He coughs, feeling his whole face going red. “You okay, dude?” Kirk chuckles, patting Drew’s back, as if it’s any help. 

Drew nods, trying to suppress his coughs with the help of water. While drinking, he glances at you, who looks at him with worried eyes. He puts his cup back down, clearing his throat, “so, are you?” 

He ignores the skeptical stares from Luke, his eyes only focused on you. Please, please, say yes. 

You turn away from Drew, just as Luke suddenly speaks up, changing the topic, “can we get another round of this lobster? Its fucking delicious.”

What? Drew’s gaze stays on you, seeing how you bite down on your bottom lip, eyes glued to your plate. Was it, a violating question? Drew had no idea, but seeing how quickly your mood changes, it leaves a bad scar on him. 

——

Huh. you’re staying at the same hotel as him. Well, not just him. The entire team, actually. Luke must have arranged it for you. 

Drew stands behind you, hands in pockets, trying to look as if he wasn’t bursting with joy. While waiting for the elevator, you lean on Luke’s shoulder, your body ready to give up. 

The elevator opens, and the remaining people all squeeze towards it. 

You eventually get squeezed into the corner, with Drew close by. Super close by. With no space at all, Drew is forced to lean into you, his arm against the wall to support him.

This close proximity was driving him insane. 

He feels your breast press closely to his lower chest, your face planted really close to his neck. From this proximity, he certainly can smell your perfume, shampoo, everything. He looks down at you; and surprisingly, you were already staring up at him. You send him a lazy smile, your eyes squinted up at him. 

Cute. He sends you one too, although his smile might be bigger. 

The ding sound is heard, and most of the people inside rush out. Drew was disappointed; he wanted to stay like this for a bit longer. 

He gets himself off of you, now that there’s more space in the elevator, leaning against the wall. He wants to look at you (he already stared a lot during dinner though), memorize more of you before he goes to bed, but Luke turns around and faces you. Drew bites his lip, staring into the ceiling. “Told you tonight was fun, right?”

Okay, now Drew needed to eavesdrop. 

“The guy in front of me was asking too much.”

Yes. Fireworks went off in Drew’s head. “Yeah, Kirk’s a dick. Don’t, don’t date him,” Luke…jokes? Drew wasn’t sure. “Or, I’ll kick his ass.”

“Wouldn’t even dream of it,” you chuckle, which makes Drew glance at you. He makes sure to get a quick look of your smile again; fast enough so Luke doesn’t notice. 

“Do you at least feel better now?”

“…yeah.”

“…I know you’re lying, y/n,” Luke disappointedly says.  

No reply heard from you; the ding of the elevator ending the conversation. Drew looks at the screen; the 18th floor. “Goodnight,” you say to Luke, pushing yourself off the wall. To Drew’s surprise, you wave at him. “Goodnight,” you repeat, the same lazy smile on your face. 

“Goodnight,” Drew replies, the smile appearing on its own.

The door closes after you leave, and Drew gets hit with a sad realization; he might never see you again. And he hates that thought. 

Four years. After four years, he gets another chance to see you. And he’s just gonna let you walk away? Just like he did the first time? 

He gets mad suddenly; remembering the lack of interactions the two of you had the entire night, all stolen by Kirk. Luke’s right, Kirk’s a dick. But also, a lucky bastard. He got to sit directly across from you, as well as talk to you. Lucky son of a bitch. 

“Are you… gonna get out?”

Drew snaps out of it, looking up at the elevator screen. 24th floor. Luke is holding the door open for him, wondering why he hasn’t stepped out. “Sorry,” Drew murmurs, walking out. Luke follows him, as the two of them had rooms right next to each other. 

“You okay, man?” Luke laughs, walking beside Drew.

“Yeah, just drank a bit much,” Drew shrugs, scratching the side of his face. 

Luke gets to his room first, “see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah, yeah sure,” Drew takes his room card out, pressing it against the door. He gets in without another look at Luke, closing the door behind him. 

Huh. So this is how tonight was going to end? Him alone in his hotel room, consumed with the thought of you? (As if he hasn’t been thinking about you for the past four years already) Even Drew was disappointed in himself. 

“Fuck,” he curses, still standing in the entrance of his room, running his hands through his hair stressfully. “Fuck.”

—— 

After knocking on 17 doors, this one might be yours.

Drew stood at the entrance of his room contemplating for ten minutes, whether or not to go see you again. After long chains of thoughts and scenarios, he made up his mind: he’s going to see you.

Problem: he didn’t know your room number. So, he spent almost twenty minutes on the 18th floor, knocking on each door hoping it would be you. 

And now, on room 1818. He was mentally & physically tired, but he wasn’t going to give up.

He presses on the doorbell, twice. He waits for a few seconds that felt like minutes, tapping against the wall impatiently. Just as he gets ready to move onto the next room, the door opens. 

He looks up, and his eyes widen. 

You. You’re as shocked as he is, wondering why someone would knock on your door at such a late hour. 

He first notices your slightly wet hair; droplets dripping down your neck. Your makeup is off, and he just finds you even more beautiful than before. His eyes naturally wander down to your body; finding you in a white lingerie dress. 

Fuck. His brain is malfunctioning yet again.  

“Hello?” He hears you chuckle, which makes him bring his attention back to your face. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, um, Drew. I’m Drew, from earlier, the dinner?”

“…I know. Can I help you?” You ask him yet again, a polite smile on your lips. You quickly glance down at his body; he’s still wearing his suit from earlier. He must’ve not showered yet, despite it being almost two hours after. 

“Um,” he awkwardly licks his lips; All the lines he rehearsed back in his room are now gone. Drew realizes that he’s still standing in the hallway, and he didn’t want to talk to you while standing out here. “Can I, can I come in?”

You furrow your eyebrows, your face clearly showing discomfort. 

He mentally panics, and hurries to add, “I want to talk to you, and it’s rather private. And, important.”

You think about it for a few seconds, listing out the pros & cons of this man coming into your room. You look into his eyes, seeing a sense of urgency and yearning in them. Okay. Maybe he can come in for a while. 

You step out the doorway, opening the door wider. “Sit on the couch, I’ll prepare…tea? Wine?”

“Anything’s fine,” he says, walking in. You close the door behind him, and when he spots your shoes by the door, he takes his off too. 

As he makes himself comfortable on the small couch in front of the bed, you grab your cardigan that rests on one of the dining room chairs, putting it on.

You open the hotel fridge; finding red wine in there. Opening the cupboard, you reach for two glass bottles, and walk towards Drew. He’s taken his suit jacket off, his tie hanging loosely by his neck, his sleeves rolled up. And he’s manspreading, a  position you find to be very hot. 

You have to admit; Drew was attractive. Even more attractive than your ex. Actually, the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. And, he’s got a charming personality to match it. 

But he’s oddly familiar. During the dinner, your gaze can’t help but always drift over to him. Have you seen him from somewhere? Crazy, you can’t seem to remember where you’ve seen him before. An ad? Tv? Huh. 

“So?” You start, sitting beside him. You try opening the bottle, but the cork was screwed on too tight. 

Drew takes it from you; his hands brushing yours. You watch him effortlessly get the cork out, the pop heard in the room. He pours it into the two glasses, and sets it down. He sends you a small smile when he notices your stares. “Wine?”

“Well, you said anything’s fine,” your lips curl up on their own, as you reach for your wine glass. He offers to clink against yours; and you do, the two of you maintaining eye contact while sipping. After, you put your drink back down on the small coffee table. “Why a late night talk?”

Drew licks his lips, glancing down at his lap. He seems to have trouble forming words, fidgeting with his fingers. You lean back into the couch, curious as to what he’s thinking about. 

After seconds that felt like minutes, he said, “You study law?”

Due to the unexpectedness, you chuckle, “yeah. Why?”

He shrugs, “Suits you.”

What is he even saying? “What?” You giggle, at his response. 

You don’t miss the tip of his ears going red; even he thinks his response is funny. “I mean, law sounds fun, and you look like lawyer material.”

“Awesome,” you smile at him, trying to hold back your laughter. “And you look like basketball player material.”

His smile mimics yours; just more awkward. 

He seems to not know what to say, despite telling you that he had something to say to you. Weird. So, you help him, by asking, “are you nervous about the new season?”

His eyes light up, “My third season with Hawks now. But, still nervous.”

“Third season?” He nods, and you reach for your wine yet again. “Hawks fan?”

“Always been the dream,” he admits to you, “grew up watching them, and when they offered, I just had to say yes.”

“Or because no other team offered?”

Shit. That sounded wayyy too rude. But that was your humor, and also your way of talking. Does he find it offensive? Wait, anyone would find that offensive. You should apologize-

He laughs lightly, taking a huge gulp of his wine. “Come on. Give me more credit.”

So…he isn’t offended by your words? You shrug, “never seen you play.”

He furrows his eyebrows at you, leaning back on the couch. “You’re lying.”

“Didn’t even know you until tonight.”

“Liar,” his voice drops low, but a smirk is seen on his lips, as if he’s catching you in a lie right now. But you were being honest; you really didn’t know him until tonight. 

Unless…maybe there’s a reason why he looked so familiar to you? Ugh, why can’t you remember where you’ve seen him from?

“Really,” you say, looking into his blue eyes. 

His eyebrows furrow even deeper, trying to figure out if you were being honest or not. You were. Eventually, he leans forward and pours more wine into his glass. “I believe you,” he murmurs, before sipping on the wine. You watch as he gulps it down; his Adam’s apple moving. “But surely, you’re…a fan of Hawks?”

You shake your head, which makes Drew chuckle. “I…know nothing about basketball.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s my brother’s passion, not mine.”

“Okay,” he adjusts himself on the couch, his body now fully facing you. “Then tell me about law, or stuff like that.”

“‘Stuff like that’?”

“I might bore you if we keep talking about basketball. So, I’ll listen to you.”

“And law isn’t boring to you?”

“Not if you’re talking,” He sends you a warm smile. Woah. Butterflies that you haven’t felt in forever are now forming inside of you. Butterflies that feel different compared to the ones with Zack. “Come on. Tell me. Like, what’s…what new laws have been enforced?”

You laugh; his perception of law is cute. So, that’s exactly what you explain to him, just in simpler terms. His eyes, lips, body tells you that you’ve got his undivided attention; something that makes you smile while talking.

Huh. Weird how this stranger is willing to listen to you yap about laws & everything, as if what you’re saying was as simple was pie. Huh. 

——

“Yes! He said that to me!”

“The audacity,” Drew laughs, making you nod even more. 

You’re telling him the story of your classmate, who’s also your academic rival. Once he accused you of sleeping with the professor, that it’s the only reason why you’ve got such good grades. Thinking about it now, it just sounds funny. “It wasn’t true but he was so sure,” you laugh, recalling his red face while confronting you. 

“He’s a fucking loser,” Drew continues to add, reaching to pour more wine into your glass. The two of you realize that it’s now empty, and you just shrug at him; not really bothered by it. 

You take the chance to glance at the clock; it was two a.m already. The two of you have been talking for more than an hour. You suddenly remembered that Luke told you about an early schedule the team had tomorrow, yet Drew was still sitting here, getting tipsy with you. 

“It’s..getting late,” you bring up, pointing at the clock. 

Drew turns to it, and his eyes widen. But he turns back to you, shrugging. “I guess?”

Is he not getting what you’re hinting at? So, you just tell him, “Luke told me you guys are doing something early tomorrow.”

Drew stares into your eyes, in a way that gets you nervous. But then he looks away, and nods, biting down on his lip. “Um, yeah, totally forgot.”

You smile politely at him, even though deep down you didn’t want him to go. You liked his company, and although it was mostly you talking, he didn't make you feel bad for it. Drew’s…very comforting. 

He grabs his suit jacket, the both of you getting up. “Now I can confidently say, that I know y/n.”

“What?” You smile, wondering what he was saying. You watch as he walks to the doorway, putting his shoes on. 

When he’s done, he opens the door, turning back to you. “A very successful lawyer, that handles cases for the president or something.”

You laugh; that only happens in your dreams. You lean against the doorway, staring into his eyes. You really didn’t want him to go. 

He leans towards you; giving you a hug. His arms wrap around your shoulders, and you hug his waist. Your nose is now filled with the smell of Drew; just like in the elevator earlier, a mix of cologne & alcohol. 

Drew slightly pulls away, just so he could look at you. You do the same, staring up into his eyes, then his lips, then back to his eyes.

He also glances down at your lips, his eyes squinted. 

Then, he kisses your cheek. 

Then, you stand on your toes, planting a light kiss on his cheek too. 

Then, he kisses the corner of your lips. 

Then, you kiss his jawline. 

You look into his eyes, giving him a smitten smile. 

And just like that, Drew couldn’t hold back anymore; he kisses you. The kiss is hungry, passionate, intense, and…

And way too nostalgic for your liking. 

Wait. Wait. 

You pull away from him, feeling a bit overstimulated. Not just from the kiss itself, but…but because of what it reminds you of. 

No fucking way. 

It’s all coming back to you now; this was Drew. The Drew. 

The one you lost you virginity to, the one that didn’t want you.

Wait. Was this even the right Drew? He looks pretty similar to the one you remember, talks similarly, and strangely, also kisses the same. 

“Is something wrong?” His deep voice snaps you out of your thoughts. 

Fuck. No. No, it’s not the same Drew. Because, what are the chances of this being the same Drew that took your virginity? Awfully poetic, if this happens to be the same person. Maybe, Drew is somewhere in West Carolina, coaching for some basketball team. And this Drew, was just some doppelgänger. 

Okay. Yeah, this, this is just a coincidence. You’re just feeling weird because you broke up with Zack a few days ago. Not a big deal. Just, enjoy having this one-night stand with this attractive man. 

You smile, shaking your head. “Just kiss me already,” you murmur, leaning into him. You kiss him lustfully, and he returns it, his hands touching all over you. 

He backs you up into the room again, all while his lips are on you. You giggle at his urgency, the door slamming shut behind him. 

“Don’t you have to get up early?” You giggle, pulling away. 

“I think…it’s not that important,” he throws his suit jacket on the couch, kicks his shoes off, and kisses you again. He kisses you as though it might be the last time he does. 

You pull away, just to push him onto the bed. His head lands on the pillows, and he readjusts himself so his back’s against the headboard. He puts his arms behind his head; and suddenly, you’re hit with the same nostalgic feeling. 

But you ignore that feeling; it’s in the past now. 

He gives you a lazy smirk, as you hover over him, straddling his waist. You can feel his erected cock pressing against your folds. Fuck. 

You lean down and kiss him, a euphoric feeling that you might never get over. Your hands are busy; undoing all his buttons in a messy order. He helps you; slightly sitting up and throwing the shirt to the side. 

Wow. His body? Sculptured by god himself. “Damn,” you voice out, the words just slipping out. Maybe mostly because of how tipsy you were. 

He kisses your collarbone, murmuring, “damn?” There’s a slight chuckle and tease to that, which just makes you smile. Your hands go up to his face, cupping it and forcing him up to stare at you. His eyes…most mesmerizing shade of blue. 

Again, you ignore the nostalgic feeling, that similar look in his eyes that the Drew gave you, four years ago. The similarity is uncanny.

“Such pretty eyes…” he murmurs, sharing the same thoughts you have.

His hands slide your cardigan off, discarding it somewhere else. His eyes go down to your neck, leaning forward and sucking on it. 

Your head leans back in pleasure; his tongue was skilled, you had to admit. He sucks, bites, licks the area, his hands kneading your breasts through the thin material of the lingerie. His lips are warm and soft, compared to the necklace on you. You shamelessly moan out how good it felt; which just drives him crazier. 

Drew’s lips slip lower, sucking on your nipples through the fabric. 

“Shit, Drew…” you moan, your hands slipping down his shoulders, running through his abs, and then to the belt. Your hand brushes his boner; fuck. You want him now, the wetness in your underwear proving it. 

He smirks against your skin, before pulling away. He glances down at your hands tugging his belt, “didn’t know you were the impatient kind.”

You roll your eyes, pushing him back down on his back. “Just shut up,” you groan, even though the smile was apparent on your lips. You back yourself off his waist, until you were on your knees between his legs. You undo his belt as if you’ve done it before, tugging his pants down. 

Holy fuck. You’re salivating at the sight of his dick, fully up and proud. 

You just want to wrap your lips around him, letting him use your mouth to satisfy himself. You palm his length through his boxers, leaning down and planting soft kisses along it. 

He knows you want to give him a blowjob. He can see the thirst in your eyes. He wants it too; but he stops you, his hand going to wrap around your wrist. “Fuck,” he groans, as you look up at him between his legs. In his perspective, it was a very hot sight to see. But it won’t be as hot as what he’s about to purpose to you. “You… I, I wanna taste you too.”

You cock your head to the side, slightly confused. “So you don’t want me to suck your-“

“Yes, I do but I wanna eat your pussy too-“

“What, what, are you saying-“

Oh. Oh. “69?” You gasp, a slight curl on the corner of your lips. 

His lustful and excited eyes confirm it, “you up for it?”

Your pussy is screaming ‘yes!’ But your brain is hesitant; you’ve never done the 69 before. With Zack, he’s tried missionary, doggy, cowgirl, spooning, etc, but never the 69. 

Hell, why not? Sounds interesting, and with Drew, it might feel heavenly. 

“Teach me,” you say, sitting up. 

His eyes widen; either from your approval or your unknowingness to this position. But seeing how intrigued you were to try this, he smirks, nodding. He adjusts himself on the pillows, “you’re in luck, I’m a great teacher.”

“Really?” You lift your dress over your head, now, only left with your underwear on. Drew licks his lips at the sight of your breasts, and when you glance down to his boxers; you see pre-cum already soaking it up. 

“M-hm,” he’s clearly lost in the sight of your nakedness. “Back yourself onto my face.”

The way he says it; just makes you even more horny. 

You do just as he says, not before sliding your underwear off. You keep looking over your shoulder; spreading your legs as you plant your pussy on his face. You make sure to not fully sit on him; afraid that your weight might suffocate him. 

You feel his hands on two sides of your thighs, gripping it tight and pulling you further down. “Relax, babe,” he coos. “Just, sit on me, I can take it.”

“You sure?”

“More than ever.”

And you sink your ass onto his face; until you can feel the tip of his nose poking your entrance, his hot breathe fanning it. Oh shit. “Look, you’re wet already,” he teases, licking the side of your thighs, very close to your pussy. 

You groan at the feeling, but Drew quickly reminds you to stay on task, “Lean forward.”

You do; leaning your upper body down till his dick was right in your face. You hoist your upper body up with your elbows, creating a bit of space for you to suck his dick comfortably. You pull his boxers down; and moan at the sight.

“Ready?” He murmurs against your pussy. 

You pull your hair to the side, “m-hm.”

You wrap your lips around his the tip of his dick, at the same time, he starts licking your folds. You moan around him, your mind consumed with the pleasure of him making out with your pussy.

You force yourself further down on his cock, the salty pre-cum taste on your tongue. His tip hits the back of your throat; gag reflexes triggering slightly. He was big, so it was a bit struggling to fit him entirely into your mouth. 

“Taking it like a good girl, huh?” He manages to groan out, his breath fanning our pussy. 

You just moan against his length; starting to bop your head up and down along it, occasionally sucking or biting. Your hand goes to massage his balls; which causes him to moan loudly. Shit. That motivates you to continue massaging his balls, knowing now that it’s what he likes. 

He moans against you, while his tongue keeps thrusting itself into your pussy. Fuck, this all felt…so surreal. Is one even able to feel so much pleasure at once, just through oral sex?

The room is now just the sounds of the two of you, moaning and grunting, the bed slightly shaking. 

You feel yourself coming close, as Drew continues to make out with your pussy. “Fuck…I’m close, Drew,” you breathe out, bopping your head slower now. 

“I’know,” he murmurs, his tongue going slower too. “Just, continue with that, ‘kay?”

A sudden slap to your ass causes you to moan out of surprise, but also a reminder for you to continue wrapping your lips around his dick. 

You do so; but only about half-way. With your orgasm coming close, your mouth was close to giving up. Eventually, you pull your mouth entirely away from Drew, wanting to focus on your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he groans, and just when you get ready to come over his mouth, his tongue stops, and you don’t feel his head nuzzled in your ass anymore. You glance back, curious as to what happened. His grip on your thighs loosens, but still resting there. “Lemme take over, yeah?”

You had no idea what that meant. But, you don’t object to it, nodding your head. 

In a second, he lifts you off of him, and gets off from his comfortable position on the bed. “You got a condom?” He asks, standing up. 

“In my purse,” you point over to the black bag on the small kitchen counter; the one you brought to dinner. 

He gives you a teasing smile, while he walks over to get it. “So you knew you were getting laid tonight.”

Well, you always needed to be prepared, right? You lay yourself on the same spot Drew was just in, warm and smelling just like Drew. You prop yourself up with your elbows; eyes looking at his back as he rummages through your bag. He has a nice ass, by the way. “Couldn’t hurt to have it,” you reply lazily. 

He turns around with a condom, ripping it open as he walks back to the bed. You watch as he positions himself between your legs, wrapping the condom around his dick. 

He leans forward and kisses you, a very sloppy kiss. 

You’re taken by surprise when his fingers enter you; causing you to moan into his mouth. “Fuck,” he curses against your lips, his fingers thrusting in. He adds a third digit, which is close to sending you over the edge. 

He stretches you out, while his lips now move to your breasts. You arch your back in pleasure, moans showing him how good it felt. 

His fingers pull out, and you watch as he aligns his dick with your entrance. Fuck, no matter how many times you see him, it’ll always shock you with how big he is. 

You make eye contact with him, which makes him send you a lazy smile. “You good?” Teasing but also caring is heard in his voice. 

“Will…I fit?” you ask unsurely. 

He chuckles, placing a small kiss on your jawline. “Don’t worry; you’ll fit. And it’ll feel good.”

You nod, trusting him. 

He enters you slowly, making sure you can adjust to his size. You moan when his dick is fully nested inside of you, your hands scratching his back. He leans his forehead gently against yours; the both of you catching your breaths. 

He feels you relax under him, and intertwines his fingers with yours. His head pulls away, and for a few seconds, it’s just him staring at your face. You watch as his eyes linger to every spot on your face. 

“Hey,” you softly say, which comes out more flirtatious. 

“Hey,” he returns the greeting to you, sounding breathless. “You’re pretty.”

That makes you smile, and you pull him back down to kiss him. He kisses back, while thrusting into your core. You moan, even though his thrusts were slow. 

“Faster,” you moan.

“Yes ma’am.”

Hot. Hot. Hot. Hot. The way his deep voice adds to that line, gets your pussy closer to coming. And a man of his words, he picks up the pace, slamming into you. 

The bed shakes even harder now, the moans the two of you produce are shamelessly loud. He trails small kisses along your neck, sucking occasionally. 

And as crazy as this thought was; you knew Drew was going to be the best sex you’ve ever had. Might even be better than the night you lost your virginity. He knows all the ways to feel good, to make you feel good. 

With each thrust, you feel yourself coming close again. “Shit, Drew. I’m close,” you groan, tightening yourself around his dick. 

“I’know babe,” he kisses the corner of your eye. “Cum on my dick; I got you.”

He continues his fast pace, hitting your g-spot repeatedly, until you feel a knot in your stomach go undone. 

You cum all over his dick, your body giving up now. Drew helps himself, and you feel him twitch inside of you too. His pacing slows, and you feel warm cum entering his condom. 

“…You squirted,” you hear him chuckle, as he rests his head on your shoulder. 

Oh shit. How embarrassing. You didn't know you were even capable of squirting. Is Drew grossed out by that? Based on his tone, he might not be, but then again-

“That’s…really fucking hot.”

You feel your cheeks go red just because of his compliment, letting go of his hands. You cover your face out of shyness, “shut up.”

You hear him chuckle again, “really…you’re very hot. And beautiful.”

He holds down on your waist as he slowly pulls out of you. You hear him walking across the room; probably to discard his condom. The warmth of him is gone; but a dip on the side of you tells you that he’s laid down on the bed with you. 

This man was unbelievable. First, he shamelessly looks at you during dinner, not engaging in any way with you. Second, he comes into your room in the middle of the night, claiming he’s got ‘important’ stuff to tell you. Third, he listens to long, boring stories about your life. Fourth, he fucks you so good you squirt. 

Unbelievable. 

You pull your hands away from your face, and you turn to face him. He’s already staring at you, his arms resting behind his head. 

The two of you just lay in silence; your eyes dancing all over his facial features. He really does look like the guy you lost your virginity to. Same face, same eyes, nose, lips. The resemblance is…uncanny. 

“You…” you want to ask him if he’s Drew. The Drew from four years ago. 

But you don’t. For some reason, you just can’t. You can’t bring yourself to ask him.

It was a horrible memory; crying at home for days, just because he rejected you. Crying over a guy that you weren’t even together with. It was a stupid memory, that you kept deep in your heart. Eventually, that memory was pushed to the very back with Zack’s help.

“…we just did 69,” you say instead. 

That makes him laugh; sending butterflies to your stomach. “Yeah, we did.”

You’re feeling a bit sleepy now; the tiredness of the sex washing over you. Drew suddenly gets up, and for a moment you think that he’s leaving. 

But he wasn’t; simply grabbing some tissues on the coffee table. He spreads your legs, and starts wiping the cum off it. “What a gentleman,” you sarcastically comment, even though you were happy he’s cleaning up after; Zack never does.

“The bare minimum, y/n,” he tells you instead, before getting off the bed again, throwing it away. 

Huh. You didn’t know; you��ve ever only been with Zack. 

He lays down beside you again, but not before pulling the blanket over you. “Tired?”

“Very,” you murmur, your eyelids feeling heavy. You don’t know why you said it, but you just did, “you can stay here.”

“Wasn’t gonna leave anyways,” he replies back almost instantly.

Warmth spreads throughout you, the comfort of Drew just laying beside you was enough to make you fall asleep. 

And you do drift off to sleep, with the last thing on your mind being Drew. 

Soon enough, Drew falls asleep too, but not before hugging you closely to him. 

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

word count: 6.8k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: damn they freaky (69 after four years...freaky bitches)

anyways, this is the longest chapter i've so far ...but i hope you enjoyed part three (there will be part 4!) ignore any mistakes...got real tired towards the end. i want to thank everyone who reads my work, u don't know but means a lot to me<3 also thanks to the person that also thought of the time skip idea...tysm! so...will y/n and drew open up about the past? and... who's zack👀👀

[elenthyaolyenths]

[ChillOmenstober] Day 10: "Yellow"

↓Companion text (410 words under the cut!)↓

They have met, a long time ago. But fate doomed them.

In a world where a demon can remember and see his other half.

In a world where his other half would never see nor recognise the demon.

.

.

.

“Great warrior, I know you didn’t want anything more than the price we had previously discussed for your protection. But my family and I are now back home, safe and sound, and for that I will feel indebted to you forever. Please, accept this small gift.”

Aziraphale was about to object, but when he saw the item his now former client was presenting to him, his words failed him. The old woman had a soft chuckle. Then she took his large, powerful hand in her thin and fragile ones, and put the gift in his wide palm.

“Please. Take it. I specially asked my nephew to craft it while we were traveling. He barely rested at night just to be sure you could have it before your departure.”

Aziraphale looked at the golden chain and its two red and vermeil flowers, a species he couldn’t recall the name. Delicate, marvellous. Obviously expensive. When he accepted a month ago to escort this family of craftsmen and jewellers, he wouldn’t have expected to earn such a chef-d’oeuvre.

“I-I can’t. I have to refuse.”

Yet, he couldn’t keep his mesmerised eyes off it. And the woman seemed not even surprised, wearing a broad and proud smile. 

“You are a trustworthy protector, Sir Aziraphale. During our travel, your focus never broke. Except this time at the Siwa market, when you met that little one who was selling flowers. I saw you buy their entire stock, then giving it all them back and keeping only one flower for yourself. I would bet my best camel that this plant is now dried and well-stored in your package.”

Once again, he found himself unable to speak – the old lady was definitely too much perceptive for her own good. Or maybe it was his entire fault, being too oblivious. Maybe both.

“Please excuse a old hag’s curiousness, but why these flowers?”

He stilled, flabbergasted – he didn't even know why. He stared back at the jewels, made of vermeil and a curious sort of reddish gold, mimicking almost flawlessly the flowers he saw the other day.

“Why these ones? Well, I'm afraid I don’t know.”

Fiery colours – a touch of red, and a wonderful yellow.

“…They’re pretty.”

. .

Codename: L.T.G Project - with @captainblou

Linktree - Tumblr Masterpost

♥ Tag-List below (tell me if you want to be in or out)♥

@goodomensafterdark ;

@floscrap-blog ; @demonsandpieohmy ; @amagnificentobsession ; @captainblou

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[revasserium]

had me at hello

todoroki shouto; 4,082 words; fluff, tiny sprinkle of angst, no "y/n", summer camp, canon-divergent, domestic fluff, teeth-rotting fluff, summer-time romance, self-indulgent as all living fuck

summary: nothing lasts forever, not even goodbye. or, in which todoroki shouto discovers that summer flings really aren't his thing

a/n: chat we are SO back. back on this todoroki brain rot GRIND!!! and as opposed to posting at the last possible second for @pixelcafe-network's challenge friday like i did last time, i'm posting mine first this time to make up for it! the theme was "saying goodbye to a summer love" ♡⸜(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⸝♡

It was to be a whirlwind summer, one that’s different from every one that came before it. Todoroki had thought, naively, that summer training camp would end up being just that — just another summer thing.

And he’d never been fond of the heat.

But you — you’d swept in like the rain, all bluster and brilliant, summer-thunder laughter. You struck across his storm-ridden skies like a spark of lightning, setting all his forests ablaze.

At first, he didn’t think much of it. Didn’t think much of the volunteers that the Pussycats had brought along to help around camp. Groupies, he’d dismissed, and thought of it no more. But the first night everyone came back, exhausted and sore and sweating in places they’d never thought could produce sweat, you’d been there along with the others (he doesn’t remember their names now, but he remembers yours), passing around cold water and setting up the food for dinner.

“Here,” you hand him a water bottle; he dips his head, his chest still heaving from exertion. He twists off the cap and gulps down half the bottle, feeling a cool trickle escape the corner of his mouth to run down his chin. He wipes at it with the back of his hand just as you cast him a grin before turning around to hand another water bottle to Kirishima.

Todoroki swallows, his palms warm, watching as you laugh at something someone says. He lingers on the gloss in your hair and the ease of your smile. He wonders what kind of quirk you might have; he catches himself wondering, and then proceeds to wonder why he’s wondering at all.

He thinks it’s the heat — fanning himself, he looks away — glancing up at the smoldering sky before sighing and capping his water bottle.

“They must love you at school, huh?” you ask, your voice jolting him out of one reverie and into another. Dinner’s almost done, and he’d wandered toward the edge of the wood for a moment of quiet, of peace or sanctity. He hadn’t noticed you following him, and that in and of itself should have set his senses on high. But, the air is tepid and the humidity heavy, and Todoroki only has time to cock a single eyebrow before you smile and continue —

“Your quirk — keeps you cool in the summer, and warm in the winter. Useful, no?”

He watches you watching him, your eyes huge and full of the dancing flames. He looks back towards the rest of his classmates, all chatting and laughing, grouped loosely with one another, Ashido flitting from one group to the other like the social butterfly she is.

“It’s alright,” Todoroki answers, surprising even himself. He drops his eyes, fixing his gaze on a point just above his own feet before you laugh, the sound drawing his attention back towards you.

“You’re not a very good liar, but that’s okay. It’s not a bad thing.”

You shoot him another grin.

“Your quirk,” he says, clearing his throat slightly as he feels a distinct heat prickling up the sides of his neck, “can I ask what it is?”

You list your head to one side, your expression curiously blank. Before you shoot him a smile that can only be called devious.

You nudge him with an arm before dancing away, but that momentary contact is all you’d needed. Todoroki feels his whole body relax, feels some of the tension drop from his shoulders, the strange nervousness that had been coiling in his stomach unclench.

“Guess!”

Someone calls your name from over your shoulder.

“Coming!”

You give him one final wink before dashing off, leaving him dazed, head reverberating as if someone had rung him through like a bell on a Sunday morning.

The weeks had passed in a strange blur after that, as if some vengeful giant had gone stomping through his memories, dragging a large hand across the vivid scenes, smearing the colors and scrambling the timelines. He remembers the ever-present ache in his muscles, the eternal shortness of breath that had accompanied the first few weeks, but he also remembers your presence in the evenings — always in the evenings, the shadow of you flickering around each and every one of his classmates, mostly asking about their days, but sometimes placing a comforting hand here or there.

He remembers your touch well, the gentle anchor of it, the immediate relief.

“Your quirk… it has something to do with feelings, doesn’t it?” he asks one night, a towel draped around his shoulders from a recent shower, his hair still damp in the early evening dark.

You flash him an enigmatic smile, swinging your feet as you turn your head back towards the liquid moonlight casting pale shadows along the edges of the summer-still leaves.

“What makes you say that?”

“Just…” Todoroki joins you, letting his arm brush along yours, his eyes following your gaze as he too sweeps the now empty campgrounds, the remnants of the barbeque fires still smoldering in their pits, the smoke twisting towards the cloudless sky like so many misty-tendrilled streams.

“Had a feeling.”

“A feeling, huh?” you echo, laughing softly, looking back down.

Todoroki doesn’t push you, but you don’t deny it either.

“You’re not wrong,” you say, after a brief moment of silence, “my quirk — it’s not offensive, or even defensive but… if I’m touching someone, I can… siphon their feelings into me,” and as if to demonstrate, you gently press your leg to his, and Todoroki feels the tired wariness drain from him, the feeling of ease trickling through him like hot water cascading down his skin.

He stifles a soft groan, feeling a blush press up against his cheeks.

You move your leg away, leaning back till your head is resting against the back of the park bench, poised at the edge of the large encampment.

“But that’s…” Todoroki searches for the right word — somehow ‘useful’ doesn’t seem quite right.

“No, you’re right,” you say, giggling even as you save him the necessity of finishing his sentence, “it’s a good quirk to have. It’s… necessary.”

But the way you say that word sounds a little too much like heartbreak for Todoroki to ignore.

“You said siphon…” he says, after a brief stretch of quiet, and he tastes the word on his tongue as if saying it for the first time.

“Yeah, that’s right,” you say, and longing is too close a friend of his for him not to notice it threaded through your voice like a secret.

“Which means… whatever you take from the person you’re touching… you have to feel it too, right?”

You lick your lips, your eyes flickering down to your hands, palms open.

“Yes.”

It’s a simple answer, but one that lands with a gut-punch of implication. Todoroki swallows, shifting ever so slightly to let his knee rest against yours. He tries his hardest to focus on calmness, to project relief. You turn to flash him a smile.

“You’re sweet,” and he hadn’t meant to blush, hadn’t meant for his heart to kick up like a drumbeat, but does. And he knows, instinctively, that you’d felt it too — passing through from his skin to yours by some strange glitch of nature.

He makes to pull away, but you reach out to rest a hand on his arm.

And almost instantly, he feels his heartbeat calm, feels the heat receding. But it isn’t like before — it isn’t the feeling of having something leave his body, but rather having something pressed in. Like a warm blanket settling over his shoulders, or a cold hand to ward off unwanted heat. Your calm seeps into him like summer rain, cooling his mind until he’s breathing steady.

He blinks down at you, startled.

“It goes both ways,” you say, and he can see the twin glow of warmth high in your cheeks. He spares a moment wondering if that blush had once belonged to him, if you were just holding onto it for a bit longer before letting it go. You move your hand away and he has to fight down the urge to pull it back.

“Oh,” is the only thing he can think of to say.

You are everywhere after that — perhaps not in the physical sense, but Todoroki seems to have lost the ability to not notice you. Or maybe he’s just gained the ability to — to what? Develop a crush? Is that even what this is? He doesn’t know — he’s never had one before to compare it to.

But he can’t help now how instantly his attention snags on the sound of your voice, like a stray thread on a mesh-wire fence, or how an unshakable shiver traces down his spine whenever you’re near. He feels childish, like he did when he was too little to control his quirk. But he’d learned since then, hadn’t he?

Hadn’t he?

“It’s all just hormones!” he overhears Ashido say to Uraraka one night, the girls all clustered together on a single long sofa, limbs against limbs, cheeks pillowed on shoulders, a careless sort of closeness threading them all together. Todoroki’s never thought himself a jealous person, but watching them now, he wonders what it might be like to be able to touch a person with little to no thought at all, for it all to be second nature.

Uraraka blushes something furious, crinkling her nose.

“I — I don’t know…”

“I’m pretty sure whatever Mineta-chan is feeling can’t just be explained by hormones,” Asui says, her eyes huge and dark even as Ashido rolls her eyes.

“Maybe not just hormones, but that’s a large part of it!” Ashido insists.

Dangling on the side of the sofa, one foot tapping to music only she can hear, Jiro glances over and shrugs.

“Boys are weird.”

The girls all make varying sounds of agreement, and Todoroki forces his feet to move, thankful for the thick slab of shadow that had kept him from view of the general common area. He stares ahead as he walks down the long length of hallway, wondering if hormones really are the culprit behind whatever the hell this is.

The grueling days bleed into sweat-slick weeks, and somehow, he finds himself seeking you out more and more often. Sometimes after a particularly hard training session, under the guise of needing some “help” recovering (it had come out that Recovery Girl couldn’t make it so the Pussycats had volunteered you as the next best thing), sometimes without any reason at all, other than the simple want of your company.

He finds himself laughing, finds himself reaching for you — and he blames it on the weather, blames it on the tiredness now eternally sunk into his muscles, the soreness that won’t ever quite go away. He tells himself that it’s just a summer thing, to feel so hot that he gets lightheaded, to laugh until his stomach hurts, to feel the inexplicable itch to graze your hand with his when you’re sitting too close and not nearly close enough.

Thinking back, he’d known it would never last. You’d told him early on that you don’t live in the city. But that it’s not too far, if ever he wanted to visit.

“Camp’ll be over in a few weeks,” you say, lying back on a patch of sun-dried grass, beneath a swirling canopy of stars, Todoroki sitting beside you, his arms propping up his torso as he stares up at the sky alongside you.

“Yeah. I’m surprised it’s been so peaceful,” he says.

You laugh, shooting him a curious look.

“Used to getting in trouble?”

“There… seem to be a few of my classmates that attract trouble. Of all kinds.”

“I don’t mind a bit of trouble.”

“Don’t you?”

You grin up at him as he glances down at you.

“Not one bit.”

You feel him shifting as he lies down next to you, your elbows brushing in the grass. He feels a jolt of electricity snake up his arm, coiling in the base of his belly. For a second, he wonders if its a him-feeling, or a you-feeling. And then, he realizes that it doesn’t really matter — and before he knows it, he’s twisting to his side, leaning over just far enough to press his lips to yours.

In the grand scheme of kisses, Todoroki thinks that it might not have been the most well-positioned kiss, or the most well thought-out. And for all everyone calls him genius, this is one thing he’s never really had the chance to practice. Still, by the time he realizes that he’s kissing you, he barely has the chance to reconcile with the fact that you’re kissing him too. You, pressing up against him and pulling him down all at once.

His lips on yours, and yours on his — an endless echo of this kiss, and this kiss, and just this kiss. He feels his heartbeat like a reverberation, because he thinks he can feel yours too. He loses feeling in all his limbs, and wonders briefly if this is what free-falling might be like — to feel weightless, to be lifted outside of yourself.

You reach up to press a hand to his cheek, and he feels himself being shunted back into his body. He feels each of his limbs like discovering them for the very first time — his fingers tangled in your hair, his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you in, holding you close. He does not remember pulling away. But he must have, because he remembers gasping for a breath he’s long since lost to the heave of your lungs.

He feels fire, and ice, and the spinning song of a million overhead stars.

“Is this — are you —” he struggles for words but you just smile.

“I don’t know — sometimes when I’m too —” you swallow, a bit breathless yourself, the head-thrumming heat of it all passing between the pair of you like a whisper, or a secret, “when I’m too excited I — I’ll accidentally make someone else feel it too but —”

You look back up to catch his eyes, and he finds himself smiling.

“It’s not just you,” he says, quiet and sure. Because this, whatever this is, is more than just a quirk — more than just the accidental bleeding of feelings from one body to another. More than simple empathy — it’s entropy.

A chaos of feelings.

Because he’d felt it bubbling inside him, alone at night, staring up at the moon-slatted ceiling. Wondering what it might be like to hold your hand.

And maybe this is what Ashido had been talking about — with hormones and urges and all the woes that come with being a teenage boy. But he doesn’t care; there’s time to worry about that later. For now, he thinks he’d just like to kiss you again.

And so, he does.

Time passes by strangely after that — and though neither of you had intended on it, the budding relationship between the pair of you had become a known secret. No one had ever called it out by name, but no one questions Todoroki either when he wanders off after dinner. No one blinks twice when you press a hand to the back of his neck after morning drills, smiling when he lets out a soft, pleased sigh.

Even years later, Todoroki can’t quite piece together the exact timeline of things. He remembers the late nights, staying up just to talk to you, wandering through the woods, you jumping at a rabbit or a squirrel, and him slipping his hand through yours with a silent reassurance. He remembers telling you about himself — even though he doesn’t remember you asking. About his father, his mother, his siblings, his scar.

He remembers how you’d reached out and held his anger and sorrow and resentment in your upturned palms, how you cradled them like bruised fruit, with delicate fingers and a smile that looked not one bit like pity. How you did not run.

He remembers you telling him about your childhood too, of your quirk being used and abused by careless adults and ruthless children alike. Of how your parents had used you as one might use a bad therapist, like a dumping ground for unwanted emotions. Of how you learnt to deal with the unbearable weight of all those feelings — things that a little girl should never have to learn how to deal with on her own.

He remembers how you held him and he held you, and how you both had allowed yourselves to hold and be held by each other.

But what he remembers most is the ending — the last night of camp, when he knew he’d be leaving the next morning. All the bags are packed, and they’d all come out stronger. It had been an uneventful, tiring sort of camp, where nothing happened except daily training, but for a class full of teens with super-human powers and the uncanny ability to attract life-threatening situations, it could be called a resounding success.

“Excited to be going back to school?” you ask.

He watches you drag a pale pink nail polish over your fingers, one by one, blowing on each finger as you smooth out the color with steady swipes.

“I guess so. We have provisional license exams coming up, so I doubt we’ll get much rest after this.”

“Aww… but I guess no one ever said becoming a hero was an easy thing, right?” you laugh, tossing him a good-natured wink.

He sighs, leaning back against the wall of your camp room.

“Nothing worth having is ever easy.”

“Hm…” you hum, finishing off your manicure and carefully screwing the brush back into the nail polish bottle.

Todoroki turns to find you frowning slightly at your nails.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just…” you press your hands carefully into your lap, “it got me thinking — this was… easy, wasn’t it?”

And he doesn’t have to ask what you’d meant by this. Because he knows. And with a jolt, he realizes that yes. This was easy. It was so easy, being with you, in this secluded place. So easy to laugh without worrying about the outside world, to forget, if only for a while.

Easy to kiss you, to hold you, to push away the thoughts of tomorrows and endings until — well.

“Yeah…” Todoroki breathes, “I guess… I guess it was.”

Silence blooms between you like a plume of smoke.

“But… I mean,” you say, waving your hands through the air to help your nails along, before slumping back into your pillows, “it was never going to be forever, right?”

And this time, Todoroki can’t quite tell if you’re talking about this or perhaps — he can’t help the tiny bead of hope coalescing in his chest — a future where your goodbye is the thing that doesn’t last forever.

“No,” he answers, allowing himself a small smile as he looks down at his own hands, “nothing really ever is.”

You giggle, rolling over to peer at him from your stomach, “You’re so serious.”

But by the time he lifts his head, you’d already crawled over to press your lips to his. It’s a sweet kiss, a simple kiss, and Todoroki feels his chest seize inside him, his arms going heavy with a liquid weight. When you pull away, he notices your eyes are fractured with tears. You wipe them away with a laugh.

“Look at me — I’m so silly.”

Todoroki shakes his head, reaching out to cup your cheeks gently between his hands, the way you’d taught him to with his own jagged emotions. And he feels it then, your sadness, your uncertainty, the stomach-twisting knowledge of endings.

“The beginning might’ve been easy but… this isn’t.”

You hiccup, going still as he holds you.

“So… I guess we were worth it after all, huh,” you say, looking down at the space between you.

Todoroki nods, leaning forward just enough to press his forehead to yours, nudging your nose with his for a second before bringing you in for yet another kiss. He pulls away and tastes salt on his lips.

“That’s how we know — because the ending is hard. That’s how we know it was worth it.”

When the next morning comes, you don’t cry when you wave them all off, though many of the girls are. You catch his gaze and hold it for just a second longer than you’d done with anyone else. Beside him on the bus, Aoyama makes a soft, knowing kind of noise.

“Ah… first love is always such sweet despair,” he says, twinkling in his usual way.

Todoroki clears his throat, leaning back in his seat, a strange stillness settling over him as he thinks about the days ahead.

“Yeah, I suppose it is,” Todoroki says, to Aoyama’s dramatic surprise. But he recovers quickly and begins a soliloquy about something or other that carries them all the way back into the city, and to their assigned dorms.

He never forgets you, though there are moments when he’d wonder if that summer had really happened. Years later, when the memories have all gone watercolor-pale, and the edges blurred with time, he’ll still find himself reaching into the part of his mind that feels like the soft, steady weight of your hand on the back of his neck to calm him down, the smooth of your skin as you’d pressed against him and held him close.

And then, the year that he turns 24, it happens — he’d been called out into a small town just outside Shizuoka, for some kind of event that Fuyumi swears would be good for his publicity (as if he needed any more). Even after all these years, it still unsettles him to travel alone to these places, and he subconsciously reaches for the feeling of your palm pressing to his skin.

“Shouto?”

He turns at the sound of his name, and though a part of him assumes it’s yet another adoring fan, the deepest, most honest part of him whispers that it isn’t — that he knows this voice.

“Oh… its you,” the words slip from him like pebbles into a thawing stream.

And there you are, standing feet from him, your arms full of groceries, a red and white muffler strung around your shoulders, looking every bit as brilliant as the you from his memories.

The smile that splits your face is beautiful as heartbreak.

“Well, someone very wise once did tell me that nothing lasts forever… not even goodbyes.”

Todoroki takes half a step closer to you, a smile spreading across his own lips as he reaches out to help you with your groceries, taking the bags into his arms. The movement as natural as coming home.

“Yes but… I was thinking about it the other day and —”

“Oh? Just the other day?” you tease, bumping him slightly with your elbow was you set off down the half-empty street. It’s almost sundown, and the days are getting shorter again. Your breath fogs up the air before you and Todoroki suddenly thinks that winter looks good on you.

Even better than summer had.

“Yeah, but I realized…” he says, casting his eyes up at the cloud-strewn sky, the colors fading fast, the thick velvet of night inching up across the world like a curtain being drawn.

He turns his eyes back towards you, only to find you watching him with an indulgent smile on your face.

Todoroki blushes, feeling suddenly bashful, like the teenage boy he was when you two first met.

“I realized,” he says again, determined to finish his thought this time, “that when we first met… we never really said hello.”

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