#while at the council and stuf

[strawberrymochin]

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ☀︎

Rockstar!gojo x art student!femreader

synopsis- satoru gojo fell in love with you when he was 17. He tried everything to gain your attention—joining the student council, participating in every extracurriculars, performing well in academics yet nothing worked. That was until high school. In college, having been forced into a band, he needed to find a new artist for their posters which he requested shoko to take care of. What he didn't expect was shoko to bring you as a volunteer—

warnings- college!au, satoru being heads over heels for you, he’s so damn in LOVE save my boy, friends to lovers, misunderstanding, SEMI PUBLIC SMUT, fingering, oral fem receiving, PUSSY DRUNK GOJO, dirty talk, creampie, BALL OF FLUFF, ANGST, mentions of smoking and alcoholism, super cute ending

w.c- 8.2k (have faith)

a/n's note- i'd poured out my heart in this (especially the smut). i hope you all do like this. your comments and reblogs are highly appreciated as it helps motivating me for writing long ass fics. taglist is open you can ask me to join. love ya' all!!

When satoru met you for the first time, he was 11 years old. 

You were the daughter of his mother’s friend whom he heard of so many times. Though the accidental reunion in the mall while grocery shopping was the first time satoru ever had the opportunity to meet you face to face. 

It was a totally random encounter, coincidental even, you can say when your mother recognised satoru’s mom and both squealed like teenagers. They'd a lot to catch up with, thus having their kids entertain each other in the play section was convincing enough for them to chit chat in a cafe.

And this is how satoru ended up being stuffed, hand in hand with you, to go enjoy in the play section as his mother patted his back, asking him to be good to you. 

“Don't leave her hand, okay toru?! Make sure you both stay together.” His mom said before scooting herself with your mom. 

Satoru looked at you, his hand locked in yours as you made eye contact with him before shying away, looking in the other direction. He stood confused before pulling you to the gaming section, without any word. 

He scanned amongst the box of video games, before pulling out one which caught his eyes with his unoccupied hand. He gave a side look to you, reluctantly asking “you want to play this?” 

You gaze down at the video game he held in his hands, eyes sparkling a bit, if satoru wasn't seeing things, then raise your head to look at him again. “It has vibrant colours.” 

Satoru nodded, feeling a little giddy that you liked his preference. “It's called mario kart.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widened as he revealed the name. 

“Do you know how to play it?” You shake your head at his question. “Then I can teach you!” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, let's go and install it on the playstation.” 

By the time satoru’s mother returns with your mum, they find satoru giggling along with you, hands still locked with each other, as he points to various stacked video games. 

That day slowly came to an end and satoru didn't get to see you for the next two years till your giggles became a distant echo and your face a blur. 

By the time he was 14, he almost forgot you. 

Until that one day when he noticed you, sitting alone with your lunch staring at the sky at the campus of his high school. 

You were biting on your chopsticks with dreamy eyes as recognition drew in satoru's mind. 

Y/n— he thought. His brows frowned, thoughts slowly going in a muddle. How are you here? eating lunch in his high school campus unless— you're a student over here too! Satoru felt foolish, his lips slowly curving in a smile lifting one hand, abandoning the basketball in the other to greet you. 

However, before he can get his words voiced out to you, gaining your attention, a brown haired girl comes up to you dragging you along with her in a hurry. 

Satoru's hand froze in mid air, awkwardly stretching it above his head before bringing it down and turning towards his friends. He sprinted back to his group resuming the game, yet his mind stayed with you and your dreamy eyes. 

He wanted to say ‘hi’ and watch your eyes grow wide before nodding your head just like you did back then. He wanted to show you the basketball he was holding and maybe teach you how to play ball just like he did back then. 

“Oi satoru! Why are you missing the catch?!” one of his friends shouted, breaking him free of his daze. “sorry…taking a break!” He said, excusing himself, before going and plopping himself down on a nearby bench. 

He recognised the brown haired girl—Yura. She often came to him asking for little favours. Did she know you? A friend? You studied in the same school and yet he only saw you today. Where were you all this time? Satoru was the same age as you. So you were bound to be in the same class, maybe different sections but he knew students from the other sections too. How come he didn't notice you yet?

The recess was over soon and he ran back to his class. Before entering the class, he noticed you again, hurrying to the class next to him. 

Class 1-2.

Satoru felt silly as he read the classroom name in his mind. 

As the final semester rolled on and a new semester started, satoru found out class 1-2 changed to class 2-2 and this year he was in the same section as yours. 

He was excited to finally be able to talk to you without any awkwardness. After all, you were in the same classroom now— which means you will know him when he introduces himself on the first day of class. You will see him, introducing himself aloud and clear and recognition will draw on your face as you remember him. 

That's what he initially thought the night before the first class. Until satoru felt the urge to perfect his speech and kept on practicing it, holding the crumpled sheet in his clammy hands, past midnight. 

As a result he woke up late and by the time he hurried himself to school, the self introduction was half-over. He mumbled his apologies to his homeroom teacher, before hastily introducing himself and going to his assigned seat. 

With that his perfect speech plan of gaining your attention bombed miserably. He raised his head in the direction of your seat—first row second desk, way far than his— fourth row last desk. 

That's when he decided with the determination inclining in his heart to get your attention and make you remember that it's him. 

The plan was simple. He just have to wait till recess and watch his chances closely. Once you're free and alone he will go make a move saying ‘hello’! Maybe even ask for your number. 

Recess hour came by and his plan chose to bite the dust with girls and boys swarming around him to get his number and be friends with him. The group kept him occupied for the entirety of the recess and by the time he was done you were no where to be found in class. 

Similar things happened the next day and the next day and the next day, never ceasing to leave him alone. 

Satoru eventually came up with another plan— excelling in academics. The more he's good in academics, the more are the chances for you to come up to him wanting his help to understand a problem. And the plan worked exceptionally well with girls frequenting him with a doubt in their lesson— except for you. 

This time satoru came up with his active participation in extracurriculars and sports. The more he active he is the more is the chance of you joining the same activity or maybe seek his assistance for the upcoming sports day.

This plan too, was indeed prodigious and did attracted a lot of attention except yours. 

His last option was of joining the student council. As the spirited member of the top student council, you might come up to him with a problem you're facing or anything you want to change. 

So, without thinking much he did joined the student council, hoping to finally gain your attention. However the following week, concerns and requests for changes decreased promptly. The other council members sighed, few scrutinizing satoru. After all no one in the entire school would want their so very handsome, energetic and popular Satoru Gojo to have a heavy work load after school. 

“Since we don't have any work to do now, thanks to gojo-kun, I'd gladly like you all to only maintain the regular class desk arrangement.” the student council president announced before leaving the council room. 

Satoru sighed, this isn't what he thought. He just wanted your attention not the entire school’s. Everyone looked at him, when he walked, when he sat, when he ate, people always turned around to take a second look. Yet you never laid your eyes on him. Even being in the same class you never came up to him to chat. 

Back slouched, with his tie undone, he slammed the door open of his classroom to pick up his bag. 

You flinched. 

Hand covering your mouth, a dust wiper on the other, you looked at him as he froze. 

One entire year, was how satoru spent to gain your attention, to get you look at him, and when it finally happened the time seemed to halt. The sun rays pooled into the room with slow breezes messing up your bangs and satoru couldn't mutter a word but stare.

Conscious about him gaping, he tore his gaze away from you before shutting the door, this time gently. 

The council president asked them to take care of class desk arrangements. However, the desks in his classroom have always been arranged, even before he joined the student council.

“you…um arrange the desks everyday?” He said fixing his tie, slowly walking up to his desk, wiped clean by you. “Yes.” 

Satoru accompanies you cleaning and arranging for the rest of the time in complete silence. Soon you take your leave, and so does satoru but this was the time he was happy like really really happy. 

He didn't exchange any words of recognition with you, from the day at the mall. He didn't talk. Yet he was beaming radiant, for just being with you, momentarily alone, in peace. 

That day soon came to an end and another year passed by. Satoru did nothing but admire you from afar. This was the only way he felt the closest to you. He saw how you wiped and arranged the desks everyday; help people without even letting them notice; lend the only pencil you have without a word; and care for the garden whose garish flowers were disregarded by others. 

The more he saw, the more he knew you. And the more he felt his heart slipping away. 

You were kind, gentle and soft. You noticed people behind their masks. You regarded the smallest of the things with such care. And your delicate hands, often smeared with paint, held the responsibility of others without complaining. 

He often saw yura asking favours from you, shoving her cleaning duties to you, sending you to get her lunch from the 7-eleven nearby and never once you said 'no'. You were so so precious. 

He knew he’d to stop; the way you engrossed him, linger on his mind all day to the point that he was unable to think of anything but you was straight up creepy but his eyes never stopped searching for you.

Even in the midst of the crowds on a random road his eyes would unconsciously seek for you. 

And by the time he was 17, satoru was hopelessly, absurdly and miserably in love with you.

Another year passed by and he could do nothing but stare. And the fact that you often looked at him too made things even worse. 

He was so down bad for you that he couldn't keep on going like this anymore. He was so sure he'd confess to you on the day of graduating the high school, not caring about rejection. 

Satoru stayed up an entire night, perfecting his confession. But by the time the graduation ceremony ended and he went to look out for you, you were nowhere to be found. 

He asked yura about you, to which she replied that you went back home early and satoru had his heart broken at 18. 

He couldn't move on easily but giving you up was the only option left. Unwillingly, satoru made his devastating decision of giving you up. He never thought he would see you again until a few years later in college, shoko brought you right in front of him. 

“We need a new artist to cover up for this concert.” said geto suguru, stuffing his phone back in his pockets. “Why? What happened to ren?” 

“Got himself into an accident and fractured his right arm.” Geto plops himself back down on the couch beside satoru, before pulling on the fretboard of his bass. 

“Should visit him then.” 

“Forget it.” 

“Why?” frowned satoru, geto suguru—his best friend, the one he went to middle and high school with, was not the type to feign indifference. His behavior indeed had satoru confused. 

“Nanami informed he got drunk at the last concert before getting himself into the accident. Drunk driving it is.” 

“Did yaga find out about this?” 

“Fortunately, he didn't. Nanami covered the case before him finding out,” geto brought his hand, swiping back his string of bangs, “if it reaches yaga, he will ban us from using the campus stadium.”

“lucky I'd say…so what now?” The next concert is in 3 days and the band poster is still incomplete. 

Shortly after satoru joined his college, suguru started a band along with two other guys. The band was doing well but due to a disagreement they decided to split up. Suguru then suggested satoru join the band and the following year they gained another member named nanami kento. 

They used to hold performances at random pubs but as its popularity increased, the college decided to give them the campus stadium to hold their concerts. Something they did extra was hiring an artist to do their band poster— hand-drawn. It'd become a little tradition— a lucky charm says suguru, and now that their artist had broken his hand right at the eleventh hour before the concert they will have to— 

“Find a new one.” 

“nana—” geto shuts him before he could finish his sentence. “Nanami is trying his best, so am I. So, you try finding one too.”

“How am I supposed to?” 

“Well I'm sure if you go with a face like this to the art department, people would volunteer in a line.” 

“Same goes with you, why don't you go and ask. I'm sure if you could wear your shirt a little loose you can surely get your clingy ex find a good one." Gojo says in a mocking tone, grabbing his guitar and looping it around his back before leaving the club.

He was sure annoyed, but he will have to find one, geto wasn't in a mood to joke earlier either. Rather than going by himself, he decided to ask shoko get it done for him; he was sure she'd agree for a few packs of cigarettes. 

Walking on his way to the parking lot he texted shoko to meet at their regular cafe. 

“Sup!” 

Satoru smiled knowing shoko could never fail him, even if she didn't agree right away a little guilt trip will do. 

“All good?” 

“Yeah, what do you need?” 

“Just a little favour.” 

“And what that might be?” 

“Get an appropriate artist from the art department. Ren broke his arm and suguru's so down about going himself, ya’ know about his ex,” shoko started grabbing her cup of iced coffee to retreat when gojo slammed two packets of cigarettes on the table. “I've two more packs to offer.” 

Shoko returns to her seat, a big smile on her face. “Okay! Since I'm your empathetic, gracious and compassionate friend, I will try and see what I can get done.” 

“Yes please…” 

“I'm not doing it for cigarettes ya’ know.” 

“Mhmmm” satoru nods his face dramatically.

“Get the other two packets out.” 

“Sure.” 

Satoru knew four packets would get the job done as he parted away from shoko, driving his way back home. 

And the next day when shoko texted him that she got a volunteer and is bringing her to the club, he didn't expected it to be you.

Shoko looped a hand around your shoulders “so this is the club,” chewing a gum, “and this is satoru gojo.” 

“Hi…” you said looking at him, before taking a look at those instruments laying behind. 

It’s you. It's really you. He couldn't believe his eyes yet stood unblinking as if you were some mirage and will fade away once he closes his eyelids.

“Gojo?” Shoko waved a hand infront of his face and realizing he didn't respond to you, he bent his torso bowing to you. 

“Woah,” shoko’s face scrunched up, cringing at his behavior, “when did you start being all formal?” 

You giggled at her comment while satoru hushed her with a series of ‘shut ups’. 

“I'm—” 

“Y/n.” satoru whispered almost as if reminding himself the way your name sounded in his lips. “Y/n, i know.” 

You chuckle at his words, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You know her?” shoko tilted her head at him, not expecting you to be acquainted with him. 

“We went to the same high school.” You say when satoru does nothing but gape at you with dreamy eyes. 

His heart did a whole somersault at your sentence. You remembered him; you remembered his name; you remembered he was in the same high school as you. The fact that you regarded him made him so giddy that he was practically ready to throw his hands up in the air or kiss the floor on which you walk.

“Kay’ I'll leave you guys to talk then.” She smirked before raising a cocky eyebrow at satoru, excusing herself from the club. 

“So…you're the only one?” 

“Huh?”

“In the band— i mean…”

“Oh no” he dragged, “there are two more members along with the back musicians…” 

You humm, taking a proper look at the club. 

“You like it?” 

“It has vibrant colours.” 

Your words echoed in his ears, the same which you said to him at the mall. Oh how bad had he wanted to hear those.

“The jazzies,” you read the name of their band aloud, “why jazzies? You only play jazz?” 

“No…we play all sorts of music…it's just a name suguru chose for the band.” 

“you do originals?” 

“Both originals and covers. Anything suguru comes up with.” 

Your mouth forms a little ‘o’ as satoru explains to you. 

“geto seems to be doing all the stuff, what do you do?” 

“You know him?” satoru’s brows furrowed. “Whom?” you ask.

“geto…geto suguru.” 

“Ofc, he was in the same class as us.” 

“Oh.” 

Ofcourse. Both he and geto were in the same class as you. It was no big deal for you to remember both of them. However, accepting that he wasn't any special was bitter. 

Satoru’s eyes followed your figure as you went out to reach for his guitar, mindlessly drawing your finger on its printed patterns.

“You didn't answer my question…”

“I guess I found you for our band.” 

When none of you says anything, satoru breaks the ice, clearing his throat.

“You know how to play?” 

“Err…no.” 

“I can teach you.” 

He slided his index among the few string instruments before pulling out an acoustic one, bringing it to you. 

“Hold the fretboard with your left hand,” satoru pulled the strap over your shoulders, “and bring your right hand over the body, fingers near the sound hole— yep that's right,” he turned your back to him, gently holding the back of your palms. 

“Now, pluck the chords for me,” his chest was against your back as he guided you through the strings. 

“Like this?” you ask him.

“Yes, you're doing very well.” 

The guitar in your hands, played smoothly as satoru guided you through it. 

Just like when he taught you how to play mario kart. 

Satoru looks down at you smiling in excitement. Oh how cute you looked like that. He could admire you twenty-four seven, never wanting to tear his gaze away, for you're that ineffably eesome in his eyes. 

Time almost ceased when you looked up at him, eyes crinkling with a smile that soon died as red creeps up your cheeks. 

Satoru’s face was mere inches away from you, his eyes wavering down to your lips. 

“SATO—RU— oh,” geto bursted in along with nanami causing you both to flinch. 

He quickly leaves your hand. 

“Y/n??” Geto dragged out your name, looking at you with his eyebrows knitting and lips forming a silly smile. 

“Hi,” you pull the strap over your shoulders abandoning the instrument on the nearby couch. “I'm here to volunteer.” 

“You do?” 

“Yeah…” 

“That's great! I can't believe satoru even managed to talk—” satoru smacked him mid sentence. 

Nanami, for some reason, found the ceilings very interesting today, totally ignoring his two seniors.

Geto explained to you about their little tradition of hand drawn posters and showed you the posters they used for the last concerts. You, then, asked them to send them a group picture of the three and their preferences for colours and themes. 

“For that I might need your number—” 

“I- i can send it to her…” Geto passed a suggestive smile at satoru, which he ignored and awkwardly forwarded his phone to you. 

“Yeah that sounds fine. Here's my number, save it and text me later.” 

“Kky!” 

You pull the sling of your tote bag up to your arm, giving them a little nod, before turning your back to leave. 

“Wait!—” satoru held your arms frantically pulling you back. He hurried to the back near the couch you plopped the guitar and shoved it to you. “T-take it.” 

“Ah— no I can't do that.”

“Take it. You can learn how to play and I- I can teach you.” he tried not to stutter yet failed miserably. 

“No i rea—”

“consider it as a gift— from me.” 

You frowned a bit but agreed anyway. 

“That's really sweet of you satoru! I will wait for your text! Bye!!” 

He waved back to you. 

“What was that?” Geto implies in the direction of the exit door through which you just left. 

“nothing.” 

Later, You sent the photo of the finished banner to satoru. It took you 42 hours to finish it. 

Satoru on the other hand was practicing really hard, totally different from his half hearted performances from the previous ones which wasn't unnoticed by the other members. 

He has to be the best. After all, this concert will be different from the previous ones. This time you will be there to see him, cheer for him, and notice him. 

You soon bring the banner rolled up to the club. “Woah! You really did a great job.” 

“This is much better than ren’s.” says nanami before going back to his drum set, giving you a thumbs up.

“Satoru?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“You liked it?” 

“I loved it. It has vibrant colours.” You giggled at his answer, shifting your direction to his gaze. His fingers seemed to flake off any dust on the surface of your work, handling it so gently. 

It wasn't his fault he felt so overwhelmed. All these years he'd yearned for one kind word from your lips yet he was left starving. 

And now you'd drawn him with such precision, that it was as if you were accustomed to drawing him for the hundredth time. 

His heart fluttered at the thought. 

“I will be there at your concert,” you say, turning your back to him. “All the best!” 

The campus stadium was full with a bunch of students and hippies, it was really hard for satoru to try locating you amongst the sea of crowds. 

The music rang loud, brisking fiery cheers from the crowd, full of vim and vigor. The spotlight shone on the three— geto with his vocals and string of bass; satoru with his acoustic guitar; and nanami with his drum set. 

The crowd roared in excitement as music coursed through their veins. 

Will you be cheering too? 

Satoru raised his head from the guitar, plucking chords effortlessly, to his audience. 

And as if it was fate that drew both of you together, his eyes found yours. You were there in the vip section, along with shoko and another girl. You were moving with beats, swaying your arms in rhythm to their music. 

His eyes locked in yours as you waved a hand at him. Oh how, how pretty you looked. Everything except you was a blur to him. 

The crowd goes even more wild, seeing satoru blush, not sensing it was you who caused it. 

The concert continued till past midnight as the vibrations thrumming around the air slowed and wrapped up with their ending song: “Where Our Blue Is.”

As the applause slowly start to dissipate, satoru pulled off his instrument, running to the edge of the stage, and hopped down the raised platform. 

The college girls shrieked baffled, some even reached out, grabbing on his wrists and clothes. He politely got out of their grip making his way to the vip section, geto and nanami following him. 

The still air felt electric as he approached you. 

“you liked the show?” 

“Ofc it was amazing!!” The girl beside you answers in your stead, whom he now recognised as yura.

“It was really good.” you say swallowing a laugh bubbling up your throat at his huffed out appearance. 

“Thanks to your banner, it even attracted more audience.” geto remarked, placing his arm around satoru’s shoulders.

“Thank you.” 

“You should thank me for bringing her in.” Shoko reclaims, looping her hand around your arm, “let's go steal some shots.” 

“Oh no i can't— i don't drink. And I need to hurry back home it's late.” 

“Kyaahh— you've let me down y/nniee. Only two packets of cigarettes can get my mood uplifte—” 

“I will bring it tomorrow.” You say shutting up her whines. 

“kk bye and text me when you get home the rest are joining me right ?”

“Count me out. I'll be driving her home tonight.” Satoru says sheepishly, ignoring the smirks and exchanged looks of his bandmates, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

“No but I was about to go home with her —” yura interrupts.

“Satoru’s fine. You're coming with us.” Shoko dragged her along with geto and nanami, which satoru was glad of. 

Finally he'd be alone with you.

He guided you to the parking lot from the back of the stage, before getting his car keys out. 

It's metallic jingle echoing softly as he presses the button on his key fob. The car responds with a soft beep unlocking as satoru opens the passenger door, holding it open for you. 

“Here,” he gestures with his other hand, “get in.” 

“Sure.” You say gulping thickly.

The thick smell of your cologne mingling with the leather scent of the car.

He closes the door before sprinting to the other side, getting himself in. “Don't— ” he stops you when you reach out for your seat belt. “Allow me the honor” his finger brushes against your skin as he reaches out for the seat belt. 

Your heart practically jolts at his action. 

The click of the seat belt buckle echoes softly in the quiet car, as he straightens back to his former position. 

“Where do you live?” He clears his throat, starting the car engine and flicking on the headlights before pulling out the car into the driveway. 

“In the downtown.” 

“That's quite far from the campus, how bout I drive you everyday back home?” His eyes suggestive, making you chuckle.

“I can't let you do that.”

“Why?” 

“Since it's far from the campus and you won't be visiting often.” 

“Who knows, I might be visiting your place often.” 

You turn your face from the window to look at him. 

“What?” 

“I will have to— to teach you guitar.” 

You crack up at his silliness, finding yourself melting again.

“Okay fine. But that still doesn't counts.” 

“Why not!” 

Since that day, satoru did visited you often, sometimes barging in with shoko and sometimes alone teaching you how to play guitar, plucking on chords and notes. 

And you attended all of his concerts. Their previous artist has recovered now and has resumed his work, so you no longer work with them. However they insist you tag along each time and it's not like you complain. 

You liked satoru’s company. He was handsome, charismatic and popular. You'd watched him your entire high school. He was the one of most popular students, good in a millions of things, starting from academics to being athletic. He'd win every sports competition and even participate in all the extracurriculars. You'd admired him for he could do the things which you didn't had the courage for. 

You liked how he didn't judge people, helped them in their need, and even took care of those garish flowers nobody seemed to double take.

You'd previously met him before high school, though he never brought that up. You wondered if he even remembers the day at the mall. You wanted to ask him so bad, however—

Your world was only limited to papers and paints.

So you painted. 

You painted him so many times that you'd have more than five sketchbooks with paintings full of him.

You wanted to be friends, maybe even more than friends.

But that didn't matter now. He was near you and you would do anything to keep your thumping heart in control and not have satoru cut you out of his life. 

But how can you?

How can you control it when satoru so gently, so lovingly, takes your hand in his. When he smiles so sweetly at you. When he teaches you how to pull chords and other instruments. When he drops you home from college almost everyday. When he hugs you and tells you to take care. 

How are you supposed to be just friends when he's so overly affectionate to you?

Or maybe it's just your overthinking.

Satoru was always polite and sweet, he'd always been sweet to others and you were no special. 

“What are you thinking baby?”

You come out of your daze, rolling your eyes at the nickname.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that…” 

“Not my fault you aren't paying attention to me…” he pulls you closer to him, resting his face on your shoulder. 

“Have you always been this hungry for attention?” you ask, getting yourself comfortable abandoning the guitar beside you on the couch— of the club.

“I've been starving.” 

You cringe at his words. Satoru has another concert today and they just finished practicing an hour ago and now they are taking a break. 

Geto and nanami and other back artists wanted to get some fresh air so they left you and satoru alone to entertain each other. 

“Are you really skipping on me?” He looked at you with puppy eyes. 

“I've a gallery exhibition tomorrow.” You need to scoot back home to get ready for it. It's a big event for you to showcase your arts. 

Satoru hummed, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck, “I'll be there. You're going to do great.” 

An uncertain lump forms in your throat, hard to swallow, you say nothing. Your heart was in a conflict again, no matter what you can absolutely not—

“I will be going then. All the best for your concert.” 

You push satoru away, reaching for your tote bag from the side of a random arm chair. “Wait I will drop—” 

“Who's leaving?” shoko barges in with yura and others. 

Satoru points at you. 

“I just got here. You can't leave already.”

“Yup! Yup! Please stay a little longer, baby. I'll drop you back home, no worries.” 

Shoko exchanges suggestive glances with geto and they somehow persuade you to stay a little longer.

They start practicing for another round when shoko pulls your head closer, “what do you think about gojo?” 

“Huh?!” You shout over the music, unable to hear her. 

She grabbed your hand and pulled you outside, with Yura following closely behind you both.

“What— “ 

“What do you think of gojo?” 

A burning sensation hits you slowly as shoko’s question registers in your mind.

You ears turn red. 

“Eh…um h-he’s a nice guy. A nice musician…and—”

“And?” Shoko wiggled her brows at you, a sly smile on her face. 

“A-a nice friend.” 

“Just a friend?” You nod at her, seemingly more embarrassed at her implications. 

Shoko's face literally radiated disappointment. It was as if someone told her that cigarettes are now banned in the country. “I think he's interested in you,” you choked on air at her remark. “No?” 

Yura shrugged. 

The music slowed down and then paused, bringing your conversation to a momentary halt. 

Satoru rushed outside, complaining about why you left in the middle of his practice.

“Bruh, chill, I'm not trying to steal her away from you. We're just talking!” Shoko jokes as you laugh all flustered. 

Just when you were about to leave one of his fangirls suddenly appeared from nowhere and threw herself into his arms, wrapping hers tightly around his neck. He stumbled back a step, surprised, before regaining his balance but he didn't put her down rather he spinned her around before setting her back down, with a polite smile on his face. 

The other members just saw the scene unfold with amusement. Nanami was surprised at the fan’s boldness and geto simply observed the scene as shoko rolled her eyes, finding it hysterical.

“What do you think of shoko’s remark?” said yura, looping her hand around your arm. 

“What?” You say suppressing the slow tinge of jealousy. 

“About gojo being interested in you…” 

“I-i don't think so.” 

You try to laugh it off.

“Yeah, he's just polite. To pretty much everyone.” 

Her words felt like a splinter to your heart. You shouldn't feel like this. It'd happened before— not now again. 

Yura’s right, satoru is just polite and will do the same for everyone what he does for you— because he's kind. And you're no special.

The entire ride was silent. Satoru kept asking you if anything was wrong but you just guised a smile at him, insisting it was nothing.

The next day at the gallery event, you behaved oddly. You smiled at him but  didn't reach your eyes, your answers to his question were of one word, even avoiding his touch. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked warily.

“No.” 

Days passed by and you distanced yourself more from him. 

Satoru, on the other hand, was almost losing his mind. His world turned upside down. You stopped coming to his concerts, ignored his texts and even refused to let him drop you back home. 

It was yesterday you’d allowed him to teach you the guitar yet today you behaved as if you'd long forgotten him. You were cold and distant, leaving him puzzled by his own thoughts upon your sudden change in demeanor. 

He couldn't help but wonder whether he'd done something that made you this upset? 

You'd said it was nothing.

Then why?

What the fuck did he messed up?

Satoru missed you terribly and violently.

He eyed you from the inside of his car parked a bit far from your department. Today was another day you refused his offer to drive you to class. ‘I'm kinda sick so I won't be going.’ This was what you'd texted him the morning and yet there you were getting off your uber. 

You lied to him. 

“Come with me to their concert today.” Shoko urged you, her lips pursed in a thin line. 

“I'm sorry—”

“No you're not so sorry. Tomorrow’s Saturday, come with me, gojo’s getting mad without you.”

You suck in a breath at the mention of his name.

“What's wrong?” shoko says sipping the last of her drink before plopping it on your tea table. 

“Nothing.” 

“Then come.”

You agreed eventually. Attending the concert won't be a big deal. 

And it wasn't, except for satoru’s piercing gaze burning holes in your back. You accompanied Shoko backstage and casually greeted everyone— including him. 

“God, haven't seen you in so long.” geto side hugged you as nanami gave you a nod of acknowledgement before running off to the stage for some last minute preparations. “Satoru missed you like crazy.” 

You attempt a weak smile in satoru's direction, darting a hesitant glance his way. His gaze was fixed on you, but his expression was unreadable, almost giving shivers down your spine. 

One of the other members suddenly hurried over to Geto, urgently speaking about some issue, he politely excused himself and exited the room, closely followed by Shoko. Now, you were left alone with Satoru, the only two remaining in the room. 

“I should go and check what's the proble—” you try sprinting your way out the door, “wait—” when satoru stops you. 

His hand on your arm, preventing you to go any further and when you struggle to get out of his grip, he tightens his grip even more slamming you to the wall,  pinning you caging your body. 

“What's wrong with you?” 

“Gojo you're hurting m—” 

“Gojo?” His voice cracked, grip losing before letting your arms go, “why? Why must you do this to me?” 

“Do what?” You drift your gaze away unable to look at satoru, who's this close tearing up.

“This— why must you do this? Why must you ignore me? Why must you be distant from me? Why must you lie to me so that I won't bother picking you up or dropping you home? Why must you reject my affection?” He sucks in a breath “You know I can't live like that—” 

“why?” 

“Don't pretend like you don't know…” 

“no no don't say it,” you throw your hands up in the air frantically, “don't— I can’t fall again…no— I know you're just being polite and you will do this for anyone, but I can’t help it if I don't—”

“I love you—” he whispers, bringing your hand up, placing the palm flat to his chest.

“No you don't.” 

“Yes I do— what do you mean you can't fall again,” he suppresses your struggles of wrenching free your hand from his grip. “You have no idea how crazy I'm for you. I love you and I've loved you since I was 17. I was about to confess to you on our graduation day but you just disappeared leaving me alone. And now that I have you I'm not letting you go— make no mistake baby, if there's anyone I’d ever kneel for— it'd be you.” 

Thick silence covered the entire room, except your heavy exhales. Satoru gojo was inches close to you, your hand still laid flat against his heaving chest. 

“B-but I wrote you a note confes—” 

“What note? I never….” confusion twisted on his face bitterly. 

“You threw it in the dustbin— the one I wrote to you the day before graduation.”

His face told the truth, as he shook his head denying it. He never received any note from you— nevertheless having the audacity to throw it in the trash when he'd been hopelessly in love with you all these years.

“Yura told me—” you shut your mouth as the realization hits you. The person whom you considered as a friend backstabbed you long ago. 

She lied about him discarding it while it was actually her who had stolen it off his desk before satoru even noticed.

Your head raised in embarrassment, ready to apologize for the misunderstanding when suddenly, Satoru's lips met yours in a tender kiss. The kiss was filled with such affection and tenderness that you felt as if you might melt in his embrace. His arms held you close, firmly yet gently, as he deepened the kiss. Your heart pounded in your chest as you responded to his kiss. All thoughts of the misunderstanding were forgotten in that moment of pure intimacy before satoru pulled away with frowned brows and a dazed smile. 

“Tell me, would I kiss anyone the same way I kiss you?” he pulled you again, smacking his lips on yours as he snaked a hand around your waist, the other, still firm, holding your palm. 

You could feel his heartbeat going rapid the more he deepens the kiss, sucking on your upper lip. 

He pulls away again.

“Tell me, would my heart beat the same way as it beats around yours?” He smacks his lips again, this time pinching your waist making you gasp as he slips his tongue in.

His hand fumbles with the hem of your dress, pulling away again, a string of drool connecting both of your lips. “Would I be breathless the same way as I'm now?” 

His hand travels up your inner thigh, till it reaches the wet blotch of drenched silk. You grasp his shoulders, when he starts drawing circles over the fabric, smirking before nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. 

“Satoru, what if someone walks in—” your body jolts, nails digging into his back as he pulls the fabric to the side, plunging a digit in without any warning. “Let them…” he goes back to sucking your skin while rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit. 

Your teeth sank on your bottom lips, his finger slowly plunging in and out of you. “Nngh ‘toru, you’re—” small trembles quivered through your body as he plunged with a faster rhythm. 

“Shh baby! Let me take you” he inserts another digit as your teeth dug even deeper into your lip, stretching you and filling you so well. 

He was stroking you, curling his fingers inside until hitting your most sensitive spot. Sweat beaded your forehead as your trembles gave way to full body shudders, shutting your mouth with your hand not wanting to be loud. 

Satoru drew himself back from your neck, satisfied marking and suckling, withdrawing his digits, slick from you as you wince at the loss of his fullness. 

He brings them up and sucks your essence off his fingers with a pop. “I want to eat you out.” 

Before even you can make out his words he kneels down bunching up the fabric to your hips pulling your panty down properly and latching onto your swollen clit. 

“Fuck ‘toru.” he lapped his tongue on your clit, drawing circles, tasting your sweet before drawing himself back, “I am fucking you baby.” He says, licking a fat stripe on your vulva, his rigid tongue swiping back and forth over your clit sending sensations that make your body jolt. “Here and raw” he hummed against your pussy, his breath warm and hot sending vibrations to your core, before vacuuming on your clit. 

Your hand grasping his hair, as he worked on your orgasm.

He plunged his digits again, rhythmatic with the little pants escaping your mouth, along with the slick sounds of your hips buckling down his fingers. 

He smirked internally at your enthusiasm.

“So fucking nasty for me huh?” He said against your pussy, licking and sucking till you were nothing but withering in mindless pleasure. You were taking it well, suppressing your moans into breathless pants until he sucked, fingers pressing the most sensitive spot inside you. 

A shriek fell past your lips, knees buckling, followed by a string of moans and whimpers. “Oh— fuck..” you try closing your thighs which he prevents with his iron grip of one hand, forcing it open till he has better access. “Don't even dare closing on me…” 

The wet sounds of his fingers, plunging in and out of your gummy walls, echoed throughout the empty room.

Something coiled hot and fuzzy in the lower pit of your stomach. You clenched hard around his finger, when the bass-heavy beats of the band's concert began, causing you to involuntarily shove satoru’s face deeper into your cunt as you heard voices from the stage outside. 

Geto's unmistakable voice rang out, accompanied by the heavy drumming of nanami. They had started performing without satoru. 

“Nn’toru they start—” your voice died down into a breathless gasp as you felt your pelvic muscles clench, tension looping around your entire body as fiery sensations erupted. You arch your back against the wall, unable to stop your toes curling at the intensity of his tongue lapping, finger fuckin' you, as your vision gets blurry. 

“Yeah…cum for me baby” his velvety murmurs were all it took for you to turn into a mess of sensations, your body erupting as your high came down bursting, dripping and spilling down your thighs, his chin and his neck. 

Satoru lapped up the drops carelessly strewn about your skin, his tongue tracing a path along the droplets splattered on your inner thighs as he savored everything with anticipation.

“Tell me, would I kneel infront of anyone and let them cum this hard on my fingers?” He straightened himself up, “and then drink it up like a pussy drunk male whore?” his gaze never left yours, wiping the leftover slick from his chin with the back of his hand before licking it clean.

The music from outside has now gained its intensity, thrumming even louder.

No— you mouthed. 

Satoru’s gaze was still fixed at you, when he unzipped his pants, his aching cock sprang out red, already leaking precum. 

You gape at his girth. 

It was big.

And fucking thick. 

Leaning in, Satoru brings his lips close to your ear, his voice clear over the blaring music from outside, “Like what you see—”

You didn't get to answer him before he slammed right in. 

A cry of pleasure tore from your throat, as you loop your hands around his neck, nails digging on his back.

He hissed out a breath, restraining himself from moving till you adjusted to his size. 

Only then did he slowly pull it out leaving only the tip inside. You grimace at the loss of fullness until he slams back in causing you to clench around him. 

He let out a low guttural moan which was almost inaudible to you over the roar of music if you weren't so close to each other, feeling the raw desire of his voice vibrating on your skin.

“Tell me— hahh- would I let anyone clench this hard on me if this weren't you?” 

You were at a loss for words. 

The kind, polite, sweet satoru you knew was gone. In his place was someone who fucked hard. 

When you don't answer he pulls out and slams right back in harsh, eyes gleaming with wicked intent. 

Satisfied, satoru guides his one hand to tapping on your thigh suggesting you wrap your legs up around him. 

He repositions his dick on your entrance, before supporting your weight with one hand, pinning your body completely to the wall, while the other hand grabs your neck, choking you before giving you a sloppy breathless kiss. 

“You like it don't ya’ hmm fuck— so tight—” 

Your cries came out choked as he pounded into you, in an insane manner, desperate and primal.

“Tell me—” 

Thrust 

“do you—” 

Thrust 

“still think I'm just being polite?”

Thrust.

The roar of geto's voice singing out aloud different notes masked out the filth of your moans. 

The sensation was in again, hot and uproar, coiling beneath the core of your consciousness. Satoru sensed you being close to your climax, continued to plow into your pussy, now supporting your weight with both hands against the wall. 

Your toes curled again, nails digging down his back almost scratching the fabric, “yes that's it love,” your eyes rolled back as you arch your neck unable to handle the pleasure, “cum for me…” 

Your mouth forming a little ‘o’, mind blank as your eyes saw stars. The only consciousness left in your body directed you to the burning of your heat, till it came crashing down.

You came hard letting your head fall on his shoulders too spent for anything.

Satoru too chased his high, thrusting into your swollen pussy, his cock twitching inside you, till you felt him getting sloppy and tense before cumming into you.

The music was still very loud, beats thrumming your flushed veins. 

None of you said anything, remaining in the same position. Satoru pulled himself out, his cum dripping out your vagina, before walking over and placing you on a nearby chair. 

He cleaned you up gently tugging your clothes back and fixes himself before cleaning the mess near the wall. 

“They— they started performing without you…” you huff out, drained still in the very euphoria of your pleasure satoru showed you. 

“I told them to do so…” he shouted over the noise. 

You remain stunned for a while, letting out a breath. “I'm sorry…I avoided you.” 

“Here I thought you were giving me a thousand kisses as an apology.” 

You chuckle at him, back to his normal self— your sweet, kind and maybe not so polite satoru…

He came over to you, lifting you effortlessly before plopping himself down on the chair with you on his lap. 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” 

“No but I missed you like crazy…” he pouted. “y/n be my girlfriend…please.” 

Tears start forming in your eyes, overwhelmed, you never thought the satoru gojo you met at the mall, the satoru gojo you loved your entire high school would someday ask you to be his girlfriend.

To paint his heart with your love.

“I will.” 

“no wait— marry me instead!”

You dug your face deeper into his chest, laughing at his playfulness. And satoru just smiled.

Finally he would be yours. 

you and Satoru started dating since then and things couldn't have been any better for him. He practically announced to the world that you were his girlfriend, always picking you up and dropping you off from campus, and claiming a kiss as his reward. You’d also cut Yura off, not wanting any more negativity in your life. Satoru was yours, and you were his. And He couldn't be any happier.

Tags: @cccandynecklaces @secretfankoala

© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated |

[lovetei]

Can you write Their reaction to Sheep!MC turning into their human form, naked, in front of them but with side characters please ?

I knew people would request for the side characters sooner or later, glad I can write them again :b

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Their reaction to Sheep!MC turning into their human form, naked, in front of them

Warnings:

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

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DIAVOLO:

You were just giving your normal report to Diavolo after you got in the student council

You showed up in an empty hall where his throne is placed in the middle of the other end of it

And he's there

Sitting while looking oh so high and mighty

And you're there

Insisting to fulfill your duties even though you're feeling weird ever since this morning

"Greetings, Lord Diavolo-" You're not even done saying your greetings but you already dropped on your knees

The pain caused by the unnatural feeling of burning inside your body taking over your senses

"MC!" He called out before he stood up from his throne and come down to help you up

"I'm sorry, Dia... I'm just not feeling well-" And then again, you got cut off

But this time, you're not feeling weak

You're feeling all better

You're glowing like some light bulb though

"What happened..." You asked not noticing the once familiar feeling of being on your human knees

"How..." Diavolo just uttered a word and yet you felt a chill down your spine

Your spine?

"How disgraceful..." His voice seemed to grew more deep and husky and when you looked up

You saw yourself naked in the reflection of his eyes

His eyes that are looking at you like you're some prey

Your mind is hazy and your eyes are blurry from all the tears that are streaming out of it "Hmm?~ Are you alright, Honey?" His sickeningly sweet voice asked as he thrusted his hips even harder.

You let out a gasp before your hands gripped the hands of the throne even tighter, trying to spot yourself from falling forward because of his harsh movement "S-Slow downn!~" You whined.

But instead of him following your desires like how it usually works you felt his hand wrap around your neck "But I'm already as slow as I can get..." He dissapointedly whined before he thrusted one more time, releasing his seed inside of you.

BARBATOS:

You have informed everyone that you're not feeling your best today

And Barbatos insisted that he take care of you

Even going as far as to ask for a leave, which he never did back then.

And now he's here spoon feeding you the soup he cooked himself

"I can eat by myself..." You insisted but he just slapped your hand away when you tried to grab the spoon off of his hand

"You're an important guest MC... You need to have energy." He replied to you before he proceed to feed you.

Wait a minute, he never told you what this 'soup' is.

"What do you mean I need energy..? For what?" You asked, confused, by his choice of words.

But he didn't answer you.

Instead he put the bowl of 'soup' aside and loosened his tie.

"It's finally starting huh?" His voice lacked the formality, the modesty.

What's starting?

The unusual heat rising in your stomach?

Or this transformation?

You've lost everything, he blindfolded you, he stuffed your mouth with his tie and your hands cuffed to his own hands while your feet is tied to the headboard putting you in a sinful position.

Saliva dripped out of your mouth as you orgasmed again "How many was that already?" He asked before his hands gripped your waist, making you completely defenseless.

"MHM!" You screamed through the gag as you felt his dick grow larger "You should- stop squeezing me so much." He demanded before his tail ripped the tie off your mouth.

String of saliva flow down the side of your lips as your body submitted to his "T-Thank ywu..!-" Is what you managed mutter before his tail forced its way down your throat.

SIMEON:

You're simply keeping him company as he wrote another chapter for his new book

Sitting on the sofa next to his desk as you scroll through the internet

"MC..." He suddenly called out catching your attention

"What's up?" You tried, putting your phone down.

"Have you ever thought about... You know... Getting your human form back." He suddenly commented

His stands still tapping the key board

"Well... Having this sheep body sure is hard but it's bearable." You answered

"If it's what keeps me alive in this place then do I really have the luxury to choose what my body will be?"

He was shocked by your answer

Shocked enough that he stood up from his seat and grabbed your jaw "Your body is the temple of God... Yous should know how to love it." He suddenly lectured

"How about I show you how?" And with that your whole body glowed bright

You grabbed the edge of the sink as he harshly pounded you from behind "F-FUck, wait..!" You moaned, asking him to slow down for just a bit.

But instead he covered your mouth with his hand and fucked you even harder, his cock achingly hard because of the sight of your saliva seeping through the gaps between his fingers.

“I love you-! S-So much!” Is all he can come up with as his hand moved to your hips and gripped them before his thrusts turned harder, much more erratic. If only his white wings weren't out you would've suspected him as a succubus in disguise.

SOLOMON:

Solomon has been giddy all day.

Always smiling at you whenever or wherever he saw you.

And based on experience, this man is up to something.

And your suspicion is confirmed when he dragged you into an empty hallway and asked you to meet him tonight in the purgatory hall.

But when you arrived in it

You thought no one was home since every light is off

And the lights in Solomon’s lab are the only light brightening the hall through the gaps of the door.

You knocked and he immediately opened the door as if expecting it.

He should be anyways

He let you in and introduced you to a potion, a dark pink one.

“And what does this do?” You ask as you swirl it.

He smirked, his hands behind “It would give you your human body back.”

Your now spread wide on his desk his cock fucking into you, his balls hitting your ass as your soft please and request to slow down fall on deaf ears “Hmm?~ Slow down? But I gave you such a good potion, bringin back this slutty body back to me.” His eyes darkened as you felt him throb inside of you causing you to moan again knowing his cum will be in you again.

“Don’t I deserve a reward for being so useful to y-you?!” He asked, his hips thrusting one last time before he shoot another load of cum in you causing you to orgasm for the third time this night, your eyes rolling back “Fucking hell, ever since I had you in the human world…” Not even long after and he’s already pounding you.

“You’ve been teasing me everyday.” His voice is deep, something you wouldn’t hear from Solomon on a normal day “I-I, NOT!” You tried to object as tears fall from your eyes while you shake your head “Oh, really?~” He teased definitely not falling for it “Lying is bad, little sheep.” With one swift movement he flipped you up, now your back facing his chest “I heard spanking works the best for liars.”

MEPHISTOPHELES:

Mephistopheles have not seen your human form

And he does “not want to.”

That’s what he tells himself everyday.

But his curiosity is way too great to ignore.

Especially how the brothers are constantly searching for answers and ways to bring your human form back

Just what's about you that can make them so desperate?

But luckily

As he is the son of the greatest clan in the Devildom

Their family has a hidden heirloom that can just be of help in this situation

But he won’t tell the brothers about this

And at least, he won’t tell Diavolo yet.

And now he invited you in his mansion

You’re sitting on his bed as he conduct the ritual

And you must expect… This is not how you expect the ritual to end

“Slutty fucking human.” His words are laced with venom as his cock pushed your limits, threatening to tear you apart and yet you’re here, ass up in the air as he tried to push his cock all the way in “I T-T-OLD YOU!” You screamed as tears continuously roll down the side of your face “IT REALLY WON’T FIT IN ME!~” You moaned, still feeling him pushing it deeper.

“Are humans really this sensitive or you’re just an exemption?” He smirked as he pushed another inch in almost knocking the consciousness out of you “Stop fucking squeezing my cock so hard..!” He commanded as a harsh spank landed on your ass making you sob even more “S-Shit… So sorry!” He smirked as he noticed how he’s starting to take a toll on you.

“I’m barely balls deep in you and yet you’re already this reactive?” He mocked you as a distraction before he slammed himself all the way in and holy shit, he tried to not cum on the spot because he knows he’ll really break you if he does but fuck, the way you moan his name is not helping at all “Does it feel good, baby?” His voice is deep and husky as he leaned closer to your ear before biting it.

RAPHAEL:

Oh poor MC

This place does not even let you live comfortably with your own human body

He started assisting you more after he found out that the sheep form is not your original form

And that you actually have a real human body

And then one day

You’re in the back of the library trying to get this book

Diavolo insisted that its safe

For him

But definitely not for you

Considering how the book is starting to attack you

He, of course, defended you with his spear

Not until the book exploded

And you started glowing

“Oh wow… You have your human body back.” His expression does not express it well but he’s glad for you.

He’s glad really.

What do you mean your body feels cold?

Ah… It’s alright.

He knows the best way to make it warm.

Your legs are around his waist, trying to pull him, push him deeper “Patience MC… You’ll start bleeding if I push it all the way in.” He reasoned, making you whine even more. He’s still expressionless but you’ve caught a glimpse of a smirk “Y-You’re just teasing me…” You argued as his hips pushed his cock further in you.

“D-Do you want me to stop?” He looked so shy… You thought you made him feel bad but you can’t help it, you buried your head on his neck and nodded and just when you’re about to reassure him a chuckle left his mouth before his hips harshly slammed in you, not even giving you time to adjust to his length.

A gasp left your mouth as you covered it up, remembering you’re still in the library “W-What’s wrong?!” His words sounded like a taunt as his hips assaulted yours like you two are some animals in heat “You want it like this right..?” His voice darkened even more.

THIRTEEN:

You and Thirteen have developed this habit of hanging out in her cave

It was actually clean

It’s nice, quiet and the temperature is nice.

Though, as the two of you hang out

“MC is your skin really that… Glowy?” She asked

You looked down at yourself and you saw that

Shit

You really is glowing

You looked back at her in horror and you saw how her eyes darkened

“This can’t be happening… I’m death!” She voiced out as she turned to look at your candle

It was bruning flamboyantly, nothing was wrong…

SO WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO YOU?!

She looked at the other candles threatening to blow them all off

If you don’t get to live

They can’t also-

“Thirteen…” You muttered, catching her attention.

She turned around with tears brimming on the bottom of her eyes

It immediately disappeared as soon as your naked form laid before her eyes though.

You whimpered softly as her tongue slithered inside your entrance “T-Thirteen… Give me a break..!” You mumbled as your fingers gripped the covers for its dear life and yet she just lifted her head up a little, a mixture of her saliva and your cum dripping from her mouth before she chuckled “You need to make it up to me… You made me worry and all ya know.”

Her lips started abusing your hole once again as her hands forced your legs open “So be a good little human and compensate me okay?” She managed to say between moans and slurps as she devoured you for the whole night.

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[sonotkari]

Gaeguri

Kang Haerin x Fem Reader

[ Synopsis ]

Frogs. Frogs. Frogs. Everywhere in Kang Haerin's gym bag. You find it cute, and you can't help but point it out to the girl.

Fluff

[ Word Count ]

3.3k yes, it's surprisingly long. I'm surprised as well.

[ a/n ]

Mainly focused on Readers point of veiw! This is based on one of my friends when I pointed out how cute their duck key chain was and she started yapping at rapid speed about it lol Everyone knows how Haerin's fond of frogs so /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\

If you have cute keychains, dis for u bae <3

"Do I really have to go?" I protest with a slight whine as I look at the Aussie girl standing with her arms holding a firm grip on her waist as she huffs. "Yes Y/n, you have to be there" I groaned a bit, sighing in defeat, knowing there was not much I could do to change her mind. "But Hanni, I'll be all alone there" I crossed my arms, sighing again for the millionth time of the day. "I don't wanna awkwardly watch you guys like some loner- no offense to the people out there but- oh you get what I mean!" Hanni rolls her eyes off with a chuckle. "You'll be fine. Danielle will be there. With the others too!" Sighing again, pinching my nose as I grumble out. "Yeah, Dani will be there but for cheer practice! And the others as well"

I felt a pair of hands grabbing my shoulder and the next thing I knew, I was shaking. "C'mon Y/n, you're rarely free after school because of stuco duties... It's a miracle the meeting got canceled today!" Hanni stops shaking me as she lets go of my shoulders. "You have to come see me play for once" "But I always watch you play-" "Not when I'm practicing" She cut me off and looked at the clock hanging on the wall of the classroom. "Shoot, if I get late this time, Ryujin will definitely kill me" Hurriedly packing her things as she took her gym bag, Hanni looked back at me once more before leaving. "And I'll be killing you if I don't see your ass there Y/n. Bye!" I was about to say something but Hanni was already sprinting her way to the gym, saving her life from the basketball captain who hates people getting late for practice.

It was an unusual day today since, for first starters, Minji apparently, had a fever last night so she couldn't come to attend school today. And since the student council couldn't do a meeting without the school president, it had to be canceled. Hanni's off to basketball practice like always. Danielle has cheer practice on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and that happens to be today. Hyein's grounded for some reason, so she has to go home straight or she'll be grounded long enough till her graduation. So that means I'm alone for today and now I have to watch Hanni's practice or else I'll be buried 6 feet underground. I opened my bag and stuffed the notes and textbooks I needed and once I was finished, I started walking my way to the gym. 

The last time I came to the gym was last season's game so it had been a while since. I quietly walked at the sides, glancing at the basketball team from time to time, where they were fully focused on their practice while finding a good spot to sit and watch in silence. My attention snapped when I heard a familiar cheerful voice call out my name. "Y/n!! You came!!" Danielle came rushing from the opposite direction, already opening her arms for a big hug like she always does with any friend she meets. And at her back following the cheery girl, was the cheer captain herself, waving her hand at me gracefully like always as she smiled with her usual soft gaze. "Hey Dani, hey Wonnie" I outed a chuckle as I felt Danielle's warm embrace along with a giggle. "Hey Y/n, isn't it pretty unusual that you're here? Aren't you busy with stuco?" Wonyoung had hugged me as well after Danielle pulled out, scooting to the side. "Yeah, you're usually really busy... What's the occasion??" The other Aussie girl had also asked me with a slightly confused tone. 

"Stuco can't do a meeting without Kim Minji so it got cancelled today" Danielle and Wonyoung both nod their heads understanding the situation with their mouths shaped like the letter O. "Minji did tell me she got a fever... I hope she's doing okay right now..." Danielle says in a worried state, Wonyoung gently rubbing the Aussie's back reassuring her. "She'll be fine in no time Danielle" I nod, agreeing with Wonyoung as I smile at Danielle. "Yeah, she'll give us a text when she's all better for sure" Wonyoung opened her phone, looking at the time on her screen as she looked at Danielle again. "Break's ending soon, we have to go back to practice" Danielle nodded and looked at me with her usual bright smile. "Well, that's our cue, Y/n... We'll see you soon?" I returned the smile at both girls. "Mhm, I'll see you guys soon... Good luck with practice!"

After I bid my goodbyes to the girls and parted ways, I looked down at the benches and saw some towels and water bottles scattered all over. That must be where they take their breaks. I walked down, one step higher than the bench, and sat there to watch them play. A few minutes had passed and the timer rang, signing that it was time for their break. The basketball team slowly walked their way to the bench, casually greeting me before taking a sip of water from their water bottles. I soon spotted Hanni hurrying her way to me with a smile. "You're actually here!" I rolled my eyes with a chuckle at her statement. "Of course, I'd be here. I don't wanna die yet" Hanni comes up my way and jokingly punches my shoulder with a scoff. She drinks water for a while before turning her attention to me. "Thanks for coming tho. I'm glad I get to see you off from being busy once in a while" I couldn't help but get soft at her words.

I really loved these tiny moments where Hanni would word it out how she cared deeply for her friends. I know she cares a lot more than anyone could ever imagine but the girl rarely puts it to words, making these moments extra special for me. "I should thank Minji for it" I expressed an unbelief-shocking face as it was my turn to punch the girl's shoulder. "Stop assaulting the poor sick girl, Hanni!" After chuckling out an apology, the Aussie girl went back to practice with the others as well, leaving me alone again to watch them in silence at the sides.

I was dazing off for a while after watching the basketball game for some time when I felt a presence coming this way. I shifted my gaze to see the girl with the familiar basketball jersey, her gym bag slinging from her shoulder as she quietly walked her way to the benches. Kang Haerin. She's one of Danielle's close friends, beside us Hanni, Minji, and Hyein. But, I never got to get close to her since every time I see her with Danielle and I interact with the Aussie girl, she suddenly disappears like thin air without Dani and I noticing. She's usually quiet and never talks unless you're close to her. And that one valid person is Danielle Marsh and Danielle Marsh only. She noticed me and we locked gaze for a moment before she shifted hers away, sitting on the bench as she plopped her gym bag on the side as well. 

My eyes noticed a certain thing on her gym bag. Well, it was hard not to actually. Frogs. Frogs. Frogs. Some were patched on the side, and some were hanging from the strap. But they were all frogs. I locked my gaze at two crocheted frog keychains that somehow looked like it was looking my way. Does Kang Haerin like frogs? No- it looks more like she loves frogs. In all of the animals she could like, it's frogs? Kang Haerin loves frogs? 

I couldn't stop myself from chuckling at this newly known fact of the girl. Kang Haerin loves frogs. How cute is that??? The girl had heard me apparently, as she turned to her shoulders, our eyes meeting again doing so. She stared at me for seconds with her big black cat eyes, probably confused, even tho she didn't look like it at all, on why I was suddenly laughing out of nowhere without anyone near me to cause it, laughing like that which totally does not sound like a creep at all. Before I left a weird impression on the girl, I slowly pointed out the crocheted frogs hanging from her gym bag. "Those little ones are cute... Do you like frogs?" I felt like I saw the girl's eyes widen a bit but then she looked down at her gym bag, to where I was pointing, and looked back at me. After some seconds, Haerin slowly nodded at me, parting her lips to say something. "They're supposed to be species called Banded Bullfrogs" 

I was surprised that she'd talk to me in the first place, but she was kind enough to tell me what species the crocheted pair was. Banded Bullfrogs. "Aren't those the ones native to southeast Asia?" I blurted out of curiosity as I was thinking about it. I'm sure I heard our biology teacher talk about it once in class. I don't remember when but I'm pretty sure... I looked back at Haerin and jolted a bit as she was now staring at me intensely. Did I say something wrong? Was my frog facts wrong? I remembered it wrong...!? I felt myself panicking inside more as I saw the girl's lips parting again, scared that she might scold me for getting the wrong facts about her beloved frogs. But instead, I was met with a light gentle tone. 

"Yeah, they are native to southeast Asia..." Relief washed all over my body as I quietly let out a breath I didn't know I was holding until now. But I couldn't help jolting again as I heard her speak up. "It's common in India and Nepal as well. It walks and digs compared to other frogs which jump mostly. They bury themselves in the dirt until it rains so they can avoid getting dry and also avoid getting eaten. Did you know, they eat small insects like ants but they can also eat beetles too? Not in the wild tho, it's kinda difficult for them to eat big things in the wild. And when they get threatened by predators like snakes, their body inflates larger than their actual size to scare them off. That's why they're called fat frogs as well" She took a quick breath before staring at me again, probably a signal that she finished what she wanted to say. I never heard Haerin speak this much before, especially when I'm not as close as she is with Danielle. I slowly nod at the facts she just rambled at me right now while shifting my gaze at the two frogs. 

"But, aren't they supposed to be more... brown?" I tilted my head slightly as I stared at the green-colored frog's eyes, somewhat staring back at me. I heard a soft sigh escaping from Haerins and fixed my gaze back on her. "Well, my mom doesn't know about frogs that much so she probably thought every frog was colored green. And I couldn't say no to using the yarn she bought for me to crochet these so..." I hummed in response as I nodded again, understanding the little frog crisis she had. The timer rang again and Shin Ryujin walked to Haerin's way while she was steadying her breaths from running around court. "Kang, you're up next..." The basketball captain says breathlessly as she puts her hands on her waist, catching her breath more properly. Haerin looked back at me for a while lastly, before standing up and walking her way to the other members. 

Sometime after, the practice had finally come to an end. Everyone started packing their gym bags and some were already heading out to go home. I stood up from my seat, about to leave the place and wait for Hanni by the school gates instead, when I felt a familiar pair of eyes gazing at me intensely, again. I glanced at the side to see Haerin staring at my soul for who knows how long and how many times now. "Are you coming again tomorrow?" The girl asked with her usual big black cat eyes piercing on me. I didn't get the question quite well, looking at her with a confused expression. "To practice. Are you here tomorrow too?" "Ahhh... No, I don't think so..." I mumbled as I pondered about tomorrow. The stuco meeting can't be postponed any longer so I think I'll be back with my duties again starting from tomorrow. "I have student council duties after school tomorrow, I think" Haerin slowly nodded, finally averting her gaze down as she did so. "I'm ready! Let's go I'm starving already..." Hanni whined with a sigh as she walked her way to me with her gym bag slung on her shoulder. "Haerin-ah!! Are you finished?" Danielle came from the other way, calling Haerin like always for them to go home as well. I locked eyes with Haerin one more time before giving her a small smile and I started heading out towards the exit with Hanni following from the back. "Since when were you close with Kang Haerin??" "Since we talked about frogs" "Huh???" 

Minji's recovery speed was rapid. She came to school the next day like she wasn't piping hot the day before. The stuco meeting was held, and after 2 long hours of duties and other work, I finally got to leave the school building. I was walking my way to the gates when I saw someone standing by, seeming to be waiting for someone. The rest had almost already gone home at this time so it's kind of unexpected for someone to wait till this hour. But then my eyes went wide, noticing who this person was, standing by the gates. "Haerin?" She noticed me and looked up from gazing down at her feet. "Who are you waiting for this hour? Almost everyone's home..." She looked at me for a while, blinking a couple of times before she spoke up. "You. I was waiting for you" "Huh? Me? Didn't basketball practice finish like an hour ago??" She slowly nodded to what I just said. "You waited for me for an entire hour?? Why? Did you need anything...?" After a few seconds of silence, she finally took something out of her bag. It was one of the crocheted frogs from yesterday. She silently handed it out to me with a nonchalant expression. "You're... giving this to me?" She silently nods again. "But isn't this important to you? You worked hard for it..." "And I want you to have it" 

I gently took the little frog from her hand and looked down at it. It was neatly crocheted with big black eyes and cute pink-tinted cheeks. A big smile was plastered on my face as I looked up at Haerin, flashing her my big smile with gratitude. "Thanks Haerin... I appreciate it..." The girl didn't utter a word and just stared at me, like usual. "But you didn't have to wait an hour for me... I feel kinda bad" Haerin shook her head to the side this time. "I chose to wait on my own. And I didn't have your number anyways" I quickly took out my phone from the pocket of my jacket and opened my contacts, handing it out to Haerin after. "If you don't mind typing yours here, I can text you later" The girl's eyes shifted on my phone and after a while, she gently took it from my hands and started typing. A few seconds later, she handed me back my phone, and I smiled back at her with a 'thank you. "So, which way do you go home?" Haerin pointed out the way and I smiled widely at her for the second time of the day. "We go the same way! Let's walk home together then" 

Haerin taught me a whole lot about frogs and how she had grown to like them. Back when she was in grade school, her friend suddenly blurted out that Haerin looked like a frog character and ever since then, she'd become a big frog lover. After we parted ways, I got home and texted Haerin. Even in texts, she would casually bring up frog facts, changing subjects from here to there in seconds. It was fun to see how the girl who was usually quiet, just piercing her gaze at people, would change into this mini biologist, teaching you that frogs aren't so good with catching prey who don't move much. Knowing her love for the cute small animal, I had an idea in mind. 

I rushed my way to the gym, panting as I looked around for one particular girl. "Oh Y/n, what are you doing here...? Aren't you supposed to be with Minji?" I looked at my side to see Wonyoung coming down towards me as she drank some from her water bottle. "I kinda ran away and now I have a span 10 minutes before she notices and gets full president mode on me..." I breathlessly say so, gaining a small chuckle from the cheer captain, crossing her arms as we speak. "So, why's the secretary of the student council running away from duties? This isn't like you Y/n..." Wonyoung chuckles again, looking at me with full of curiosity in her eyes. "I'm here for Haerin. Kang Haerin, have you seen her?" She looked around and pointed to the sides where one familiar girl was standing, finding something from her gym bag. "Thanks Wonnie! You're a lifesaver!" I quickly say so as I rushed my way to Haerin. 

"Haerin!!" I called her name out and saw her jolt a bit before looking back at me. "Y/n...?" "Hey, hi, sorry for interrupting whatever you're doing... It's just I don't have much time and Minji would kill me if she knew I neglected stucco duties-" I say all in one go and take some breaths before I'd officially pass out. Haerin didn't utter a word and just stood there, probably waiting for me to get to the point. I huffed one more time before I fixed my gaze back to the girl. "I wanted to give this to you..." I say so as I pull it out from my pocket. It was a small crocheted frog, much smaller than the one Haerin gave me. But this was in color brown. Like the Banded Bullfrogs. "It's small, and I figured out I'm bad at crocheting in a hard way so it's a lot messy but..." I chuckled softly at Haerin as I took her hand and placed it in her palms. "I got the color right... Now you actually have a Banded Bullfrog!" I was getting more nervous as seconds passed and she still hadn't uttered a thing, just staring at the small brown frog in her hands.

But it all faded away, replacing a warm feeling on my chest, when I saw her smiling. For the first time since we've talked and became close. Kang Haerin had smiled. Over my crappy frog crochet. What's happening? "Thanks, Y/n... it's adorable" She said with full affection as she gawked the frog with a big smile plastered on her face. "You're... welcome..." My heart was a beating mess, if she wasn't so focused on the frog, I know she'd be able to hear it. The timer rang and the basketball captain had called out Haerin to come. She looked back at me with a smile smaller than earlier as she quickly blurted out words before going her member's way. "I'll take good care of it, I promise" 

I silently watch her jog off to Ryujin, hearing my heartbeat still pounding loudly, knowing someone would definitely hear if they were close. I took deep breaths as I averted my gaze, landing on the green crocheted frog hanging on Haerin's gym bag which Haerin and I were matching. It's probably just me but, it felt like the frog was looking at me with a knowing expression. It's a damn crocheted frog. 

"Don't look at me like that" 

no, i didn't spend an hour googling about frogs. what are u talking about?

[nyctophiliq]

✮ ┆ SUCKING HER TITS. ada wong, claire redfield, jill valentine

— “I wonder what has you so riled up.” content warnings.               mdni, nsfw content, breast/nipple play, breast worship, fingering, grinding, use of petnames

author’s note.                 omg enforcermoss is posting again??? after promising fics they are surprisingly back into business and actually posting something??? yeah, I am so enjoy :)

✮ ada ;

sucking ada’s breasts weren’t always a gift, most of the times it was a way to shut you up because after a tiring day at the council she wished for nothing but your company and silence, which was challenging to achieve. she truly adored you, everything about you was her favorite thing, but if her kissing you until you ran out of breath wasn’t going to shut you up then your mouth stuffed with her breasts surely would. not that you ever caught up on all this.

so, there was no surprises why you were here, a small hum leaving you as ada pulls you on her lap, palming your chubby cheeks as your kiss swollen lips latch onto her chest. you nip the pink nub, gently tugging with your teeth, biting down ever so slightly on it just to hear a few of her little praises. you suck it, cheeks hollowing before letting the pink flesh go with a quiet pop. your free hand massaging the other mound, squeezing harder little by little to feel more of the fat ooze between your fingers.

one thing to know about ada’s breasts were that they often felt sore, the long hours spent in her corsets and bras, tits squished half their size to fit into those elegant dresses she loved so much. it was unsurprising when her breath hitched, gripping on the fabric on your back as she leans back in on the arm rest of the couch. your hazy gaze meets her arousal coated one, her thighs clenching when you grope both of her breast at the same time, leaving crescent shaped bruises. ada lets out a sigh as your tongue runs over the burning marks, head falling onto your shoulder with another low moan.

“ah- that’s a pretty mouth put to good use.” ada murmured as her hands danced along your spine before digging through the roots of your hair, kneading your scalp, and playfully pulling you off of her nipple. watching your little desperate act of trying to fill your mouth with her chest again, she lets go of your head and wraps her arms around you, her head falling back against the chair.

✮ jill ;

“need something?”

there weas a slight tease in jill’s voice, putting down her black ink pen and pushing aside the papers she was filling out after a smaller mission and looked down at you. straightening your posture in her lap you start to babble some sort of response, it was entertaining to watch you try to keep your composure while squirming on her fingers. she watched your eyes roll back as you came, and adorable little cry escaping your before falling against her.

“I’m… I,” you tug her clothes, crying out and try to beg but your mind is so foggy, too weak to even form words. but you shouldn’t worry, jill knows exactly what you want, do you think she hasn’t noticed? you gnawing your fingers, dipping your fingertips into your mouth while she pumped hers in and out of you? she sucks her teeth before pulling her fingers out of your pussy, offering it to you like it was the finest piece of cake in all of raccoon city and it’s a sigh to see you wrap your lips around them, feeling your tongue swirling.

this was just to keep you occupied and stuffed as she tugs her shirt out of her pants, freeing her breasts for you to enjoy.

“go on, don’t be shy honey.” she whispered into your ear as she pulled her fingers out of your mouth and reached to wipe them in the little cloth set on the corner of her desk. you latch on her nipple right away, hungrily sucking and nibbling on it. a sigh leaves jill’s lips, toes curling in her boots when you bite the sensitive flesh, tongue brushing over it soon after to take care of the vicious ache. she throws back her head, groaning shamelessly as you hollow your cheeks around her nipple.

your drool covered jill’s nipple, humming pleasantly against the soft flesh when you hear her heated breaths and snuffed moans. your hand came up to cup the underside of the tit that was currently filling your mouth, squeezing it the slightest before letting it go with a pop. it takes a second for you to get your breath back, staring at her slightly reddened areola before switching to the other breast and give it the same loving treatment.

“that’s good, just like that princess.”

✮ claire ;

you’re so confused when she draws you onto her lap and pulls her shirt up, taking your hand in hers and puts it over her exposed breast. her fingers guided the pad of your thumb to caress the fleshy nub, back and forth, gently pushing down on it and when she lets go of your hand she tucks your hair behind your ear.

“what if we try this now, hm?” claire asks and you nod, gulping slightly before dipping your head, sticking out your tongue and licking one of her nipple. you go further and lightly suck on it, feeling it get stiffer under your lips and hearing claire coo as it did. your hand moved upwards the slightest, pushing claire’s breast up along with your movement, continuing to lap at her nipple as you spread your legs the slightest, pressing yourself against claire through your shorts.

she grins as you do so, enjoying every second of the texture of your tongue pressing against her stiffened nub. she can feel herself getting wet, chuckling as she drags your tongue over her nipple before closing your lips around it and sucking gently. it’s obscene how good it feels, your mouth attached to her breast, making her hands shake and legs shake a little.

your free hand comes up to her other breast, jiggling and squeezing it before pinching the nipple between your fingers before opting to roll it between two of your fingers. claire shuddered in pleasure at the harsh touch and as the tip of your tongue circled her areola. when you felt that her nipple was firm enough you pulled away, pressing slight kisses against the pink flesh before sucking bruises into the pale skin of her chest.

“keep going, you are doing so good sweetness.”

[xxnymeriatargaryenxx]

early morning doggystyle with aemond on the castle balcony before the council meeting starts…. 💦

watching the sun slowly rise over the entirety of king’s landing while getting pounded and stuffed full of the prince regent’s seed

[angellovesravon]

"I'll teach you how to behave..."

tw:spanking, public sex, all characters are 18, slight non-con?, choking, degrading language.

I have lots of room to improve on so please comment on what I could do better at 🙏🏼

Imagine... Yandere! student council member who stalks you from afar, in school, in public, in your home..

Who watches you during class, fascinating about fucking you in front of everybody, breeding you into submission, fucking the brat out of you...

Who stopped by your house- oh wow! the window magically just opened itself... Yandere student going through your dirty laundry, stealing borrowing a pair of your used underwear...

His creep self watching you masturbate through the cameras he set up in your room while he was borrowing your undies, fucking his fist with them in hand as he day dreams about finally sticking his fat needy cock into you...

Who always tried to talk to you during classes, but you being the bitch delinquent you were, made that difficult. He'd watch as you yapped during class, messing around with other students you didn't seem to like you.

He'd watch you run around the halls, running from staff members trying to give you detention with the rest of your delinquent friends. Your no good friends...

He couldn't stand seeing you talking with your bad influencing friends... He was the only one you needed! soon you'd realize what was meant to be<3

It was only so long before he wouldn't be able to control himself, he can't keep imagining you, it just want enough!... soon he'd be stuffing his cock in you till your ass hated you.

The way he was so close! He bumped into you in the hall like in those romantic movies...! But no, you mouth him off and not the way he wanted, calling him a waste of space and pushing him away... Bitch?

The sound of skin slapping echoed in the small storage closet, whiney moans coming from you...

"hah-please..! sto-ahg!" you couldn't even finish your sentence as Mateo filled you with his hunk of a cock. Harsh grunts were your only response from Mateo, his lips ghosting over your ear...

He moaned carelessly in your ear, hand griping tightly on your hip while his other held you down to the floor by your neck. "Hah... you need to learn-ugh fuck...! to behave, you fucking brat!" The dusty carpet floor was rough on your hands an knees, the fast rough past of Mateos thrusts making your eyes roll back.

His smooth hands wrapped around your neck tightly, cutting off your air as he forced you down.

His full sack slapped yours with each thrust of his, his hand on your hips now gripping your ass cheek. "Pff-please! Agh... can't!" Your prostate sore with each unforgiving thrust. You let out a pornographic moan as Mateo slapped your already sore enough cheeks, your (s/c) cheeks a dark pink with how hard he slapped you. Your back arching with pain and pleasure...

"Yes you can... Be a good boy and take this cock, you ungrateful brat!" Mateo huffed as he pushed your face harder on the rough floor. "You gonna learn to be a good boy, yeah? You gonna be good f'me? I know you can..." Mateo moaned as if the weren't fucking like bunnies in the school closet during class...

"Please... i-auh!" You were interrupted by your own mind fucking orgasm, your sticky cum staining the carpet floors. Your mind was in shambles, the over stimulation from already cumming and Mateos thick cock filling you up drove you over the edge as your mind blanked out on you,

Mateo's hand left your neck, sliding its way to your hips, holding your ragdoll like body up. You lied there, eyes rolled to the back of your head in overstimulation as Mateo drilled his fat cock into you. "You learn your lesson yet, M/n? You selfish brat..." He huffed as for a moment he stopped his persistent thrusts. He wrapped his arm around your chest as he pulled you to his chest before wrapping his arms under your legs, holding onto your neck to support you as he stood up. He huffed as he thrusted his ups up deep into you, now practically punching your prostate as his dick plunged deeper into your tight hole.

"You- gahh fuck.. you. better. fucking. behave! Or I'm gonna make your ass is gonna hate your for an eternity..." He spoke with each thrust as he quickend his pase, soon reaching his orgasm. He moaned as thrusted in you one final time before cumming in you, shoving his face in your neck as he let small thrust into you, pumping his hot baby matter into you.

Though your mind was a mess at this point, it didn't stop you from cumming onto the door of the closet Mateo pulled you into before all this happened...

Pants filled the room, you and Mateo catching your breaths as Mateo was still plunged deep in you...

He cleared his throat as he gently set you down on your hands and knees as he sat on his rear. It took a moment for him before realizing how far he took this, he loved it, but maybe it was too much for you.. "Fuck, M/n i-" "Kill yourself..." "Okay <3"

__________________

It was a little rushed cus I kinda forgot I was writing it but I hope it was acceptable 🙏🏼

[kozumesphone]

astronomy

𝓽sukishima kei x f!reader

masterlist . . . ✰

𓆩♡𓆪 𝒶n : cassie!!!!! ilysm for requesting this <3 + i'm sorry I didn't write this sooner 😭 I had the best time nerding out about stars in this fic fr! alsoalso it's pretty short, so i'm sorry about that too 😩

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌arnings + tags : stargazing , friend!tsukki x friend!reader , both of them like each other but are oblivious , no actual moves are made (maybe part 2) , very very short drabble , reader rambling about constellations (<3) , shooting stars ;

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌c : 0.7k

“the sky is so pretty tonight,” I sighed. tsukishima and I sat cross-legged on our school’s roof.

since we were both a part of the student council, as co-sports captains, we had to stay back after hours to work on setting up everything for next week’s inter-school volleyball tournament that karasuno’s hosting.

we had just finished setting up all the stalls outside the court, and decided to call it a day since it was nearly nine in the night.

exhausted, I flopped onto my back. I pulled tsukishima down with me, and pulled out his arm to rest my head on.

“my favourite cushion,” I mumbled, smiling.

“my time as a cushion is very valuable, I must say.” he said, joking. “I bill by the hour.”

“yes, sir! you’ll get paid for being the best cushion ever.”

“I better.” he grumbled, and the both of us laughed.

after a while of just looking at the stars, tsukishima broke the silence.

“which constellation is that?” he asked me, pointing at the sky.

“oh! that’s hydra! it’s the longest constellation that’s ever been officially named.” I said, starting to ramble about it. “it’s made of, like, 17 different stars. oh my god, i’ve never been happier about how less pollution there is, in our prefecture. anyway, the brightest one there, if you see it,” I pointed at one star. “that’s alphard, or alpha hydrae. it’s like the defining star because it’s brighter than the rest, in the hydra constellation.”

“what about the one above that?” he asked, pointing to a quadrilateral-looking arrangement of stars.

“I think that’s… corvus? it’s symbolised by a crow or a raven. the four ends of the quadrilateral you can see, are gamma, delta, epsilon, and beta corvi. it’s associated with the greek god, apollo.”

I turned to check if he fell asleep, but he was staring at me quietly. he quickly whipped his head ahead, masking his smile.

I traced my fingers over the freckles on his cheek, under his eyes.

“this constellation’s my favourite one of all, though,” I whispered, observing his freckles. no matter how faint at night, everytime I saw them, I had this urge to trace every single one of them. join them like stars join to make constellations, and name them all.

his eyes fluttered close slowly.

I turned back to the sky, my cold fingers still resting against his warm cheek.

before I could continue telling him about the other constellations I could spot, a shooting star appeared at the edge of my vision. I sat up suddenly, and slapped tsukki’s arm.

“it’s a shooting star!” I exclaimed, in awe. “make a wish, tsukki! quick!”

I closed my eyes, and clasped my hands.

I wish I get amazing grades forever. and… I wish this moment with tsukki… lasted forever. I also wish for cute stuffed toys for my birthday this year!

I opened my eyes and turned to tsukishima, who was already looking at me.

“did you make a wish?” I asked, smiling.

tsukishima’s pov:

“make a wish, tsukki! quick!” y/n said.

my heart fluttered at the nickname, even though she called me that a lot. get a grip, kei! I chide myself.

her eyes closed, and her eyebrows pinched together in concentration.

I took in all of her features. the shape of her eyes. the slope of her nose. the curve of her lips. her beauty.

“did you make a wish?” she asked, opening her eyes and turning to me.

heat crept up my neck after getting caught staring at her. twice.

“yeah,” I lied.

every smile she sent my way, and every laugh i’d heard from her. every low moment in our volleyball careers we went through together. every win we celebrated with each others’ teams.

she was my dream come true.

what else could I wish for, if all i’d ever wanted was right in front of my eyes?

kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

[gildedphoenix]

Fire Escape - Dead on MAYn Day 1

Prompts uses: -Courting rituals -Flickering -Dinner interrupted by a fight -“Are they gone yet”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Not beta read. 6k words. Jason has a stressful day and shares dinner with his downstairs neighbor, Danny. The following week, Danny leaves something for him. A courting ritual between busy, stressed disasters.

AO3: Fire Escape Dead on MAYn Blog @deadonmayn

Fire Escape 

Life as a vigilante was stressful. Their world was not always easy. Cases did not always wrap up nicely in thirty minutes with everyone skipping off, hand in hand. 

This was definitely one of those bad days. 

A child trafficking case, after dragging on for the last 3 months, ended horribly. The head of the ring got away before Hood and Nightwing could to box him in. Most of the kids were already gone, whisked away to another location while Jason and Dick were fighting to reach them. And the kids they were able to find? Jason took a deep breath. This wasn’t a night he would be able to forget anytime soon. 

He wouldn’t be sleeping tonight so after Dick left, Jason cooked. He made chicken and bacon stuffed shells with a creamy marinara sauce. The recipe always took forever but it was a welcome distraction. Jumbo shells, chicken, bacon, broccoli, cheese, and sauce and a dozen other components to prep and cook. No time to think of anything else.

Two hours later, Jason was still wired, but he had stuffed shells. Enough for his whole family, if he was honest with himself. Enough to feed those kids who didn’t make it. Enough to fill the stomachs that hadn’t been full in so long but would never be hungry again. 

Jason was broken out of his despair by a noise on the fire escape. His gun was in his hand without conscious thought. Slow, steady steps took him closer to the window until he could see the potential intruder. 

Jason's shoulders dropped back down as he spotted his downstairs neighbor outside their window. It wasn’t unusual to see Danny out on the fire escape, one level down. Nothing unusual. Nothing to be concerned about. 

Jason reupholstered his gun before Danny spotted him and turned back to the kitchen. They’d introduced themselves when Danny moved in a few weeks ago at the beginning of the fall semester but hadn’t interacted much since then. 

Grabbing the casserole dish and an extra plate and fork, Jason stepped out onto his level of the scaffolding and called down to Danny. 

“Hey, you want some food? I made too much and can’t possibly eat it all.” Jason set the dish down between himself and the stairs and started in on his own plate. 

“Oh my god, Yes! I haven’t had food all day! You are a life saver. A knight in shiny armor.” Danny made his way up the stairs and peeked his head just above Jason’s level. He reached slowly for the extra plate and serving spoon while watching Jason. Jason motioned a little ‘go ahead’ with his own fork and Danny’s face lit up as he scooped a modest portion of shells onto his plate. “I was stuck in meetings all day. The council just wanted to drag everything out and every issue solved spawned two more. And it’s not even like they listen to me,” he stopped, eyes wide and he put the serving spoon back in the dish and looked intently at his own plate. “Not that they would. You know. I’m just a,you know, just an intern. I’m not even paid. Just an unpaid internship. Yep. I’m just there to take notes and get college credit. I’m an engineering student at Gotham U.” He glanced over at Jason, eyes a little panicked as he tried to sell his obvious lie. “But I don’t wanna bore you. You probably have a real job with real stress. I’m just an intern student. Aaaaaaand I’m gunna stop rambling now and go eat. Yep. Thank you.” 

Danny clammered back down the stairs (and Jason could swear he missed that last step based on the noises) before settling down against the wall next to his window. With a chuckle, Jason took another bite of his food. “You’re right, my job is stressful. That doesn’t mean you’re day can’t be stressful too, though. Stress is relative. We all handle it differently. It’s how I ended up making too much food. I’ve got a big family and I just went on autopilot and before I knew it I’d made enough to feed them all, even though none of them are over tonight. It’s still a nice way to decompress. I’ll give them a call tomorrow to see if any of them want some but this dish is better fresh.” He leaned back against his own wall, eyes closed, taking in the steady constant noises of the city. The chatter of Crime Alley and the more distant rumble of Gotham. It was several minutes before Jason heard Danny call up again. 

“This is amazing. I don't think I’ve eaten anything this good since….Actually never. I definitely can’t make anything like this and my parents didn’t really do home cooked meals.” 

Jason glanced down through the grates and Danny was scraping the sauce off the plate onto his fork. Jason decided to show some mercy before the poor guy started licking the plate. “Feel free to grab more. I’m not gonna eat this all and my siblings should have clairvoyantly known I was cooking if they really wanted any.” Jason chuckled a bit but it also didn’t seem that unrealistic. 

“Thanks! I’m going to be full for a week after this.” Danny popped back up the stairs, his face lit up in joy, as he pulled the dish over to him, spooning out a full plate of shells this time. “I guess their loss is my gain.” He went back down to lounge against his own wall. 

An easy silence fell. The noises of the city a distant juxtaposition to the bubble they had created. Just two people enjoying food. Enjoying a little down time. Enjoying peace.

****

A few days later, Jason came home to a surprise. He didn’t expect to really hear from his neighbor again beyond the occasional waves and hellos they had previously established. Just the coming and going in the stairs or passing on the street. But there on the outside of his window was a sticky note. Black with tiny nebulas, Jason’s name was scrawled with silver glitter gel pen and an arrow pointing down.

He opened the window and looked down to see if Danny was out, Jason spotted a ziplock bag full of cookies and a thermos. With Danny nowhere in sight, Jason inspected the note again and on the other side was more writing.

“I can’t cook anything near as good as what you made, but these are my favorite cookies from the bodega by campus. I like them with cardamom tea.” 

Jason opened the bag and caught a whiff of the cookies. He had fully intended to run them through a spectrometer but the enticing scent of ginger snaps and some urge deep within his soul overrode his caution. He took a small bite. And they were delicious. The spices were deep and warm. The molasses earthy. Setting them aside for a moment, he opened the thermos and took a tentative sip. The tea was still warm and lightly sweetened. The sharp spices of the tea playing well off the warmth of the cookies. 

He’d never had anyone leave him offerings like this. The thought stopped him for a moment. 

Gifts. Not offerings, gifts. He shrugged and grabbed a book from his TBR shelf. Settling in with the cookies and tea to relax before he had to go out for patrol. His mind was distracted by stray thoughts of what he might be able to leave his neighbor in return. 

****

Danny hated his teachers. He hated this city. He hated his creaky apartment. Though he didn’t mind the eye candy of his upstairs neighbor when they passed on the stairs. And if Danny turned around once in a while to watch Jason go up the stairs and enjoy the view? Well that was just the payment he deserved from the universe for the elevator always being out. There were other perks too, Danny decided thoughtfully. He and Jason had been leaving each other little offerings on the fire escape and it had become the best part of Danny’s day. It wasn’t every day, maybe more like once a week. But the joy he got when there was a little package outside his window? Unparalleled. As if matching Danny’s galaxy post it note energy, Jason left notes with his gifts on stationary that looked like old parchment paper, quotes from classic authors printed along the bottoms. Just a little explanation of what the gift was and where it was from. Or sometimes, if it were a homemade dish, Jason would include where he’d got the recipe from. Danny was on the look out for a larger notepad that was still space themed. He found he was running out of space on his post its and using two seemed like trying too hard, as if going out and buying all new stationary wasn’t also trying too hard. But Jason didn’t have to know it was new. Danny could have already had this. 

To Danny’s joy, there was a take out box outside under his window today. No Jason to be seen, but they rarely made it outside at the same time. Their schedules rarely lined up.

“I found a new korean place over off Vermont St. I got you some char sui pork buns. I hope they help tonight while you’re studying for finals. The things you’ve left for me have always made my evenings better.  -Jason”

And at the bottom, the little book quote read “‘Why did you do all this for me?’ he asked. ‘I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything for you.’ ‘You have been my friend,’ replied Charlotte. ‘That in itself is a tremendous thing.’” -Charlotte’s Web

What had started as a simple shared meal from Jason making too much food after work had become the best part of Danny’s week. And it seems like Jason might feel the same. A lovely give and take of food offerings. A courtship. Or at least, Danny liked to think of it that way. But even just simple friendship was a welcome feeling. At least now he knew Jason also liked their little dance and this wasn’t out of some misconstrued obligation. And Jason even remembered that he was a student and that it was finals week. That extra thought had Danny blushing as he took the buns to his kitchen counter and stuck the note on his fridge with a comet shaped magnet. Danny kept all the notes Jason left. Luckily the fridge couldn’t be seen from the window because otherwise Danny would die (again) of embarrassment. As it was, he simply enjoyed his dinner while rereading Jason’s words.

****

“Wait a minute” Dick interrupted Jason’s story description of Danny’s most recent gift of curry and boba tea. “So you and this guy-” “Danny,” Jason corrected. Dick nodded, a conspiratorial smile growing. The kind of smile your brother gets when he stumbles across potential blackmail material on you. “So you and Danny” Jason did not like that tone, “have been leaving gifts outside each others windows.” Jason nodded, “Every week, or MORE,” Dick looked pointedly at Jason for confirmation, to which Jason nodded again. “And you FINALLY tell him that his gifts ‘make your day better’ and you use the page with a quote from Charlotte’s Web about FRIENDSHIP?” 

“What’s the matter with that? It’s not like I picked it specifically. It was just the next page.” Jason was beginning to regret sharing this joy with his dick of a brother.

“Ok, So.” Dick threw his arm around Jason’s shoulders, “We need to either work on your delivery, or get you some stationary with better quotes. You’re clearly over the moon about this guy-” “Hey, what makes you say that? I just- It’s- I…”Jason stuttered, trying to gather his scrambled thoughts. “Having something to look forward to after I get off patrol is nice. And having someone go out of their way to do that for me…” 

Dick really looked at his brother. It wasn’t often that Jason managed to look small these days. But there he sat, shoulders hunched, fingers fiddling with Danny’s most recent note. It wasn’t a sticky note size, but a small half page. Very much like Jason’s own notepad with the quotes from famous authors. He was absentmindedly folding the paper back and forth, making lines from star to star among the constellations decorating the page. “Jason,” Dick dropped his teasing tone and waited for his little brother to look up. “It sounds like you’ve got a good thing going here. I wouldn’t want you to mess it up by being impatient. You laid out your cards, in a small careful way, and you received something in turn,” he nodded to the creased note. “Keep taking those steps. I can see how happy this has made you, even as simple as it is. Keep finding things you think he’ll like. Keep leaving your little courtship gifts. And maybe just flip through your stationary and pick the quotes a bit more deliberately,” Dicks eyes glinted dangerously, “You lit’ nerd.” Dick quickly flipped backwards from sitting into several handsprings across the training mat, his maniacal laughter echoing across the cave as he tried to escape the very predictable ire of his younger brother.

“Oh that’s it! You’re in for it now!” Jason rolled up onto the mats to chase Dick, joy in his heart and violence on his mind. Danny’s note settled to the floor, waiting for Jason’s response. “I hope you like curry! I got a medium spicy, but eat it with the naan if it’s too hot. Your gifts are the highlight of my day whenever you leave me something.” And then, hand written at the bottom of the page where Jason’s stationary had quotes, “With all the stars in the sky, and all the people in the world, I’m glad I ended up in a constellation next to you.”

****

“Guys, I’m going to die.” Danny declared and then promptly face planted into Sam’s couch. They were having their monthly catch up dinner and hang out. Sam was attending Metropolis University for Law with a minor in environmental studies. Her parents weren’t happy with her obvious post grad plans, but she was fulfilling their terms of getting a traditional, respectable degree, so they were footing the bill. That included her off campus apartment because no daughter of theirs was about to live in those dingy college dorm rooms. 

Tucker was attending MIT while also building a name for himself in the hacker community. Two streams he was desperately trying to keep from crossing, lest MIT expel him on ethics. 

Danny, of course, was attending Gotham U for aerospace engineering and astronomy. Their schedules made it hard to find a common evening once a month that they were all free. Danny’s ability to make portals (thanks to a new set of powers and abilities that came with being Ghost King of the infinite realms) made it slightly easier to get everyone in the same room once they found the time. Danny’s muffled voice drifted up from the couch cushions. 

“What was that Danny? I couldn’t quite get that through the literal couch in your face.” Sam sassed.

Danny lifted his face from the fluff and whined, “I left Jason the sappiest note and by the time I came to my senses, he had already taken iiiiiiiiiit! And now he’s read it and he hates me and he’s never going to talk to me again or leave me homemade cookies or anything else ever again and it’s all because I read too deep into a quote from fucking Charlotte’s Web!” He flopped onto his back and then slowly melted off the couch, thumping to the floor when Sam pushed him to make room to sit down with her pho bowl. 

“Come on man, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Tucker said. “Tell us what you wrote.” “No.”

“Don’t make me check the security footage. You know we’ve got HD cameras on your place.” Tucker, horrible friend that he was, was already pulling up the footage. The cameras had been installed as a valid security measure but were mostly used to retrieve blackmail footage against Danny by his friends. Danny had a tendency to glow and float as he stargazed on rare clear nights in Gotham and Sam and Tucker gave him no end of shit about it. 

“Did you find it?” Sam asked excitedly, crowding closer while holding Danny off with a boot to the face. 

“Yep! Let’s see, ‘Hope you like curry,’ blah blah blah, oh here. ‘With all the stars in the sky, and all the people in the world, I’m glad you ended up in a constellation next to me.’ You’re right.” Tucker declared solemnly. “It is bad. He’s never going to talk to you again. He’s gunna move states. Dye his hair. Change his name! You’ll never find him again and you’ll never find love.” Tucker lost his deadpan demeanor and dissolved into laughter. 

Danny glared at him and phased the couch out from under him. Tucker hit the floor still laughing and didn’t stop. 

“Captain Chuckles can stay on the floor, but please re-solidify my couch. I like it to exist in this dimension.” Sam nudged Tucker ever so gently out of the way so that the couch could exist again. 

“But really. Was it too much?” Danny asked Sam, since Tucker was clearly just going to be useless. 

“I think it was honest and forward. I think if you guys had been going on traditional dates, then it might be too much.” Dannys face fell and his shoulders slumped. “But!” Sam interjected quickly, “That is not what you guys are doing. For better worse, you have some archaic courting ritual going on. You’ve only been exchanging words and gifts. Small offerings of your heart and soul. To give less than your full self in this situation would be disingenuous. I don’t think it was too soon, especially since he initiated the sentiment. Sure, writing down undying love,” Danny and tucker both chuckled at the ‘undying’ part and Sam kicked them both for it, “Would have been too much. But directly stating that you enjoy the little dance you have going on? And that you like him? Nah. I think you did good. Especially since he’s clearly a literary nerd.”

“Yeah” Tucker chimed in, “He matches well with your space nerd!” 

“Oh that’s it! You’re in for it now!” Danny rolled off the couch and chased Tucker around Sam’s spacious apartment, promising to freeze him to the ceiling once he caught him. 

****

Jason decided to take a night off patrol. Nothing major should be going on tonight. The Alley could do without him being a helicopter parent for one evening. He wanted to make a more involved meal for Danny. There was a good chance that they would see each other tonight. Jason had connected some dots and realized that Danny, the beautiful face and soul that he was, liked to stargaze on clear Gotham nights. This would be the first clear night in weeks and there was no way that Danny would miss the opportunity. 

So Jason got started early. Rissoto didn’t look fancy but it took skill to get right. The results, when done right, were amazing. Jason had also picked up a bottle of wine. Call it wishful thinking, but he hoped Danny would share it with him and they might sit down and really get to know each other. That would be nice. 

****

As Jason stood, stirring his hopes and risotto, Danny was one floor down trying not to burn the entire building down. This was his fourth night trying to make the same thing.  He’d watched so many videos. So many tutorials. All of them said this could be done by a beginner cook if they just followed the steps. None of them really sold how difficult it was though. Someone needed to start a cooking channel where an average person tried to follow these recipes. 

The first attempt, several nights ago, ended in him realizing that he could not melt sugar on top of a creme brulee in a plastic ramekin. Fire plus plastic is bad. That was the first batch ruined. 

The second batch didn’t set in the oven. Which didn’t make sense because he’d done everything the same as the first batch, which had turned out fine. 

The third batch, he turned the oven up just a but realized while he was cleaning up egg shell that he’d never actually put eggs into the second batch. By the time he got the third batch out of the oven, they were horribly over cooked. 

For the fourth batch, he laid out all his ingredients, portioned and in order of use. Set his oven back to the right temperature and gave an offhanded prayer to Clockwork for proper timing. 

The timer dinged, the custards wobbled ever so slightly and Danny about collapsed with relief as he got them safely removed from the oven and set on his counter. He took a moment to contemplate how he’d ended up cooking the same dessert four nights in a row. These were way too complicated for him. But he’d done this to himself. He’d looked up “impressive desserts to make for your date” and Creme Brulee topped half the lists. Last step was to toast the tops with a micro torch after they cooled. 

Danny returned to his homework while he waited.

****

Jason opened his window, two servings piping hot seafood risotto plated and ready. He’d heard muffled cursing from downstairs, so he knew Danny was home. Most likely cursing one of his professors. Jason left the bottle of wine just inside his window. He was hopeful that the evening would go well but no sense in being presumptuous. He wasn’t even sure if Danny liked wine, or drank at all! 

Starting down the fire escape, Jason was surprised to see Danny already out. He was peering into the eyepiece of a telescope muttering to himself. Danny did talk to himself a lot now that he thought about it. Not wanting to startle him, Jason waited on the upper level of the fire escape and simply watched. Admired the object of his affections these past months. It was odd to think how much they’d both put into the relationship so far for how little time they’d actually spent together. Danny sat on the stairs in his Nasa hoodie and some Justice League pajama pants, which caused Jason to chuckle quietly to himself.

Sitting next to Danny was an open notebook, Danny’s chaotic handwriting scattered over the page along with some very precise charts. Jason almost didn’t believe they were hand drawn except that they were penned in the same aggressively bright neon green sparkly gel pen as the chicken scratch writing. What a strange dichotomy. Next to the notes sat a tray with two ramekins of creme brulee. As Dannys hand moved down to make some notes Jason noticed several bandaids with burns peeking out from under them. Had Danny made the creme brulees himself? He’d mentioned a few times that he was hopeless in the kitchen. Had he gone to all that trouble and apparently pain, to make something for Jason? 

For no particular reason, Jason needed to clear his throat, which startled Danny of his concentration trance. “Oh! You’re here!” Danny said. He capped the eyepiece and looked around. “I made you something. You’re always making things for me and I’ve just been buying things so I wanted to put more work into your gifts. So I made these. For….For us. I was hoping you’d eat with me? I waited out here for you. Also it was a great night for some stargazing so I was just doing that while I waited, of course, because sometimes you come home really late. Not that I’m watching you!” Danny’s hands came up defensively, a blush coloring his cheeks as he rambled. Eyes darting away, he started clearing off the stairs for them to sit. Moving his notebooks and the creme brulees. Jason just smiled at the disaster he was already half in love with. He couldn’t wait to learn all of Danny’s quirks and habits. Would he always ramble on or was this just jitters? Would Danny’s face light up the same way every time Jason came home from patrol? He hoped so. He wanted to make this work. He wanted to come home to that face.

“I’m actually really glad you’re out here,” Jason said, saving Danny from himself. “I’ve seen your telescope and noticed that you like to come out on clear nights. I was hoping you’d have dinner with me again. I made seafood risotto. It’s shrimp and muscles. Would you like some?” Jason presented the plates to Danny as he came down the stairs. 

“Yeah. I’d love to have dinner with you. I like any food that doesn’t try to eat my back. I don’t think I’ve ever had risotto. Let me just finish moving my junk.” He smiled as he set everything off to the side in a pile.

Jason settled down and handed one of the plates and a fork over to Danny. “How has school been going? I think you mentioned you were going for engineering?” Danny nodded. “What made you pick Gotham U? Most people are trying to leave the city, not come here.”

“Oh, that’s easy. But two reasons really. First, Gotham U has the Wayne Tech scholarship program and the great internship programs. I’ve also heard hush-hush rumors about some great job opportunities that recruit from Wayne Tech. If it’s true, I want to be here.” Danny gazed up longingly at the sky. Wayne Tech of course had partnerships with NASA but that was a well known connection. It wasn’t hush hush. The only thing Jason could think of that Danny would be alluding to would be jobs on the Watchtower. They did hire civilians, but the Justice League hand selected the best of the best. Bruce and Lucius kept their eyes out for those people. Not that he supported nepotism, but Jason wouldn’t mind making sure Danny’s name got added to the hat once he was ready. 

“The other reason,” Danny said, breaking Jason out of his future planning, “is that Gotham is the only city I could find with even half the amount of crazy as Amity, my home town. We had some crazy super villains and after growing up with that daily madness, I can’t settle down in a peaceful city.” He took a moment to savor the food, bliss coming across his face. It made Jason want to make more food for him. Jason wanted to bring him that joy again. To provide for Danny and take care of him. “This is really good! I love your food. Best thing I’ve ever had every time. I just hope what I made doesn’t give us both food poisoning.” “Hey, I’m sure it’s great. Did you burn your fingers making that? I saw the band aids. Even if you need chaos, I’m sure you don’t need to make more by burning yourself making dessert. Just walk through the alley in the daytime and I’m sure you’ll get enough excitement.” 

“Nah, Muggers are small potatoes.” Danny contested. “Most exciting thing that can come of that is Red Hood showing up. And I’m typically not out while he’s patrolling. Hood keeps most of the rif raf out of the area, so I generally feel safer here than the rest of Gotham.” 

“Hmmm. So Hood is doing better than the bats and birds? I’m sure Batman would love to hear that.” Jason bumped Danny’s shoulder playfully. “Since you’ve been here for a few months now, do you have a favorite bat or bird?”

“Red Hood.” Danny said quickly and decisively. “Definitely Red Hood. Not only does he have his area on lock down, so much so that even the other Bats stay out. Black Mask? Nope. Traffickers? Gone. Most violence? Low level. I know some of the bigger name rogues will ignore all the boundaries but they’re really not known for following the rules so they don’t really count. And also he’s….” Danny stopped abruptly, a blush coming over his cheeks. “But what about you? You grew up here. Who’s your favorite?” 

“That’s a hard choice. I remember when it was just Batman and Robin OG. So I would say it was original Robin, then Nightwing, but then he abandoned us for Bludhaven. Now It’s probably BlackBat. Though the current Robin is also doing a great job. He gets a lot of shit for being so young and violent but what do people expect? Of course he’s violent. Being Robin is not easy. It’s- And now I’m rambling on.” Jason chuckled. “BlackBat. She’s my favorite. For now.” 

“Hmmm. I haven’t heard a lot about her. It makes sense since what I have heard is that she’s the stealthiest of the bats.” 

Some time during the conversation they had relaxed, no longer holding a strict gap between their bodies. Forks clinked as they sat shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip on the narrow fire escape staircase. A peaceful silence fell around them like a cozy blanket. 

“Can I try one of the creme brulees?” Jason asked, having finished his food already. “I would hate to see all your hard work, pain, and suffering go unappreciated.”

“Sure, but you’re taking your life into your own hands. Just do me a favor and lie to me about how good it is.” Danny passed one of the desserts and a small spoon over to Jason. Their hands touched and they both paused, but neither pulled away. 

A gentle smile grew on Jason’s face as a blush returned to Danny’s cheeks but still neither pulled away.  The world seems to pause around them, allowing them this moment. The soft light coming from the windows flickered….and then went out. 

“Um…What just happened?” Danny asked, looking around. The ambient glow of Gotham still loomed in the distance but most of the closer lights had gone out, just street lamps remained. Down at the end of the street, a red glow flickered. The glow of fire. “I gotta go.” They both said at the same time. Their eyes met in the dim light. Shadows made masks on their faces and sudden understanding lit their eyes. A mutual epiphany.

“Be safe.” Danny said to Red Hood. “You too.” Jason responded before darting back up the stairs and into his apartment. 

****

Danny’s mind was reeling. How could he not have noticed? All the clues were there in hindsight. The late nights. The tired days. The various bruises and scrapes. Even the vague half answers and glaring lack of personal info in their brief conversations. But in that moment of calamity, Jason’s entire demeanor shifted. His shoulders squared and resolution threaded every fiber of his frame, and what a great frame it was. On the plus side, Danny felt less conflicted about staring at Red Hood’s ass while courting Jason. They were the same ass. The same thighs. The same broad shoulders that Danny had way too many private thoughts about. 

Focus Danny!

Once he got into his closet, he transformed. While he no longer shouted “Going Ghost” at the top of his lungs (He was young, leave him alone), he didn’t have any way to dampen the bright flash of light his transformation gave off. So into the closet he went. 

Flying through his apartment walls and over the battle zone he quickly assessed the lay of the land. There seemed to be two groups shooting at each other from opposite corners of the street. Behind every available place of cover and down every alley, people were hiding. Sneaking into the intersection from their apartment was Red Hood, also assessing the situation from the ground. His eyes raked over both factions, the civilians, the fire escapes and windows, and even the rooftops. Danny was impressed because few people thought to look up. Danny allowed himself to pop back into the visible spectrum as Jason’s gaze passed over the rooftop Danny was hovering over. Nobody else was looking up. Nobody ever looked up.

Danny pointed at Hood, then at the violence. Then after a pause, pointed at himself and circled his hand around to indicate the surrounding area. He hoped Hood would catch that Danny was going to take care of the civilians and general crowd control. Jason nodded and took out two of his guns, checking the safety and loads before focusing on the task ahead. Danny faded back to invisibility and looked around for the most vulnerable of the civilians to get them out first.

****

The firefight took much longer to handle than Danny expected. He was used to one on one or maybe himself versus a group, but never a gang war like this. Never with so many people. So many combatants. So many innocents in the line of fire. 

The noise in the streets had been like listening to a bag of popcorn. Shots overlapping. Echoing endlessly. A constant incomprehensible cacophony of gunfire. As Danny got more civilians to safety, the density of noise began to wane. Little by little the gunfire spread out as Hood disabled the shooters and their weapons until it went from constant noise to just isolated pops to silence. 

Danny allowed himself to become visible atop the same roof as earlier when he noticed Jason looking for him once more. Danny held his fist out, thumb to the side, head cocked in question. Red Hood returned the thumb out fist and turned it up briefly, before pointing with his thumb over his shoulder back towards their apartments. Danny turned up his thumb to match and nodded before disappearing and leaving Hood to the mercy of the converging Bats. Danny didn’t even remember them showing up. He was so focused on getting people to safety. He was glad Jason had help though. He sped back to his own apartment to wait. To pace restlessly and hope that Hood hadn’t been hurt.

****

Jason was annoyed. Bruce was annoying for trying to act like he was in charge while standing in Jason’s damn apartment. Tim was annoying, standing off to the side while silently judging Jason’s lack of coffee choices. Oracle was annoying for sending Bats his way when she heard him get winged by a stray round at the beginning of the firefight. He was even annoyed with himself for somehow missing that Danny was apparently a vigilante? Or maybe a rogue? He needed them to leave. He needed to check on Danny. There was clearly some kind of powers involved but nothing to say that Danny couldn’t be hurt. That he wasn’t hurt. He’d seen Danny peek his head around the window frame three separate times before literally disappearing from view each time. Clearly waiting until Jason was alone again to talk.

“Look.” Jason interrupted whatever Bruce was saying. “I’m tired. I was already in for the night before that clusterfuck even began. I need you both out of my place because I have a date with a cup of tea and possibly a shot of whiskey.” Jason stalked over and opened the front door in clear invitation to leave. “Out. And tell O to mind their own business and butt out of my feeds.” Jason continued to motion out the door. Gentleman that he was, he even waited politely until their capes were all the way out the door before slamming it behind them. Jason took a deep breath and turned around as he felt the air shifting.

“Are they gone yet?” Danny asked. His inexplicable white hair from the battlefield was gone but he was floating a couple inches off the floor. 

Jason wondered if he knew he was doing it as he walked over to retrieve the bottle of wine. 

“Yeah. They’re gone for now. Let’s talk.” 

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

solomon with a magic pocket pussy that links to yours. him playing with it while you're in public, stuffing you full when you're with the others, keeping you full of his cum and leaving the pocket pussy upside down so it stays inside you

Frothing at the mouth at this ask

NSFW 18+ MDNI, dom Solomon, sub reader, AFAB reader, gender neutral racially ambiguous, masturbation, semipublic, use of a fleshlight

Smug.

That was how you'd describe your boyfriend. Solomon always seemed a little too pleased with himself, especially in the bedroom. He always loved teasing you and making you squirm. Dirty promises in your ear when you're around others, a slight squeeze to your ass when no one is looking, him blowing air into your ear. Maybe teasing was a better way to describe him?

Either way, Solomon was an incredibly powerful wizard who was no stranger to using magic in the bedroom. Phantom hands cast to grope and finger you while he watches from across the room was a favorite. There was just something about hearing you beg that made him drool. While neither of you were strangers to using sex toys, Solomon proposed something you had only seen in questionable porn.

"I'll cast a spell that will essentially act like a portal allowing your vagina to appear here-" he presented an empty fleshlight "-whenever you wear this underwear."

You stretched the black lace in front of you. Curious, you stuck your finger into the crotch and saw it reappear in the fleshlight. "I'm gonna stick a pencil sharpener into this to mess with you," you joked making Solomon pull on your disembodied finger making your knuckle crack. "Ow! Joking!" you yelped pulling your finger back. Solomon chuckled, "What do you say? Want to try it out?"

And that's how you ended up where you were.

You had gone home after class to relax. Swiftly changing out of your uniform to shower and change into some comfy clothes when there was a sudden knocking on the bathroom door.

"MC! What are you doing? We have a student council meeting in 10 minutes! Hurry up!" Lucifer called out from the hallway.

In a panic, you quickly gathered whatever clothes you could find and ended up grabbing Solomon's enchanted underwear by mistake. Your pussy presented onto the other end of the fleshlight without you even knowing but Solomon immediately took notice. Like a gift, your pussy laid on top of his dresser facing him. Perfectly presented and so unaware of what was to come next.

What was a brutally boring meeting turned sour when you felt a finger slide through your folds. You jumped making a loud gasp earning a peaked eyebrow from Lucifer.

"Did you have something you wanted to add, MC?"

You quickly shook your head as heat ran through your body. Solomon's fingers slowly rubbed your clit in tedious figure eights before slipping back down your labia to push two fingers into your cunt. With a gentle come hither gesture, he rubbed at your G-spot forcing you to cover your mouth to keep from making noise. Solomon found a rhythm between fingering your hole open and rubbing at your clit. When you finally got used to the flow of how your boyfriend touched you, he went ahead and flicked your clit. A mixture of pain and pleasure made you yelp with earned you 9 head turns from the demons in the room.

"Sorry-" You mustered out "I-uh-cramp...Uhm, I think I ate something-" You squirmed feeling Solomon start to suck on your clit. His soft lips and wet tongue tease your sensitive cunt so torturously well.

"If you're not feeling well you can leave," Lucifer reassured you as he regathered the papers in his hands. You nodded holding your hand over your mouth. Two of Solomon's fingers spread your hole apart to prod at your G-spot once again. Your knees locked together as you struggled to hold back your moans.

Using all the strength you could muster within your body, you hoisted yourself up and out of your chair. You quickly pushed the chair in knowing you for sure left a snail trail of your arousal on the cushion. The meeting resumed as you hobbled out of the student council room. The entire time you wandered down the hallway looking for a bathroom, Solomon rubbed at your G-Spot while sucking your clit. You were honestly amazed you were even able to walk but you guessed your motivation to not be seen was stronger than Solomon's fingers.

Solomon couldn't be more happy with himself knowing you had a student council meeting. Such a naughty little whore, wearing your magic underwear when you're supposed to be around others. Images of you trying to suffocate your noises as Solomon played with your pussy played through his mind. At this point, his cock was freed from his pants and resting on his stomach. Solomon lay comfortably sprawled out on his bed with the magic toy in his hand. Two fingers shoved into your hole while he nursed on your clit.

Your orgasm suddenly hit you just in time for you to slam the stall door shut in the empty bathroom. You could feel your juices flowing from your cunt at your release. Finally, Solomon's mouth and fingers retreated from your cunt but you knew better. This was only a tease compared to how he usually fucked you. Then his thick cock started nudging your lips apart. He slid the head of his cock through your soaked labia to prod at your clit before pushing himself inside of your welcoming cunt.

Juicy walls grabbed his shaft with every inch he gave you. Your breathing picked up now that you were alone and able to allow yourself to truly relish in the moment. How hot it would have been to have been caught getting fucked by Solomon like this. You wonder if the demon brothers could have smelled your arousal and heard Solomon fingering you. The thought made you clench around Solomon and grind against his cock.

The wizard was thrusting into the toy with everything he had. He honestly hoped the brothers could hear every squelch your pussy made, every slap of his skin against yours. Solomon's mind shifted from wanting to embarrass and humiliate you in your meeting to showing the demon brothers who you really belonged to. They might have pacts with you but your heart, soul, and pussy were all his.

You leaned on the stall door trying to find purchase against the onslaught of pleasure Solomon delivered to you. You bit your hand trying to muffle the whimpers and moans from deep in your chest. It felt like your whole abdomen was getting pushed up your body with his intensely Solomon fucked you through the toy. Your knees wobbled forcing you to plop onto the edge of the toilet seat.

Then a rush of hot fluid filled your cunt. You could only close your eyes and groan at the feeling of having Solomon empty his seed deep inside you. Your whole body shivered having been denied the build-up to your second orgasm while Solomon slowly, almost torturously slid out of your spent hole. You could feel some of his cum leaking out of you and then his fingers pushing it back inside. With wobbly hands, you reached into your pocket to text the sorcerer. Someone was going to have to come get you because you don't think you can walk right now.

[phoward89]

Summary: Coriolanus is bed ridden and healing from his dance with poison, but that doesn't stop him from his political scheming. When he finds out that his political rival lusts after you, he warns you and makes you promise to help poison the man once his District 12 contact comes through and sends him your apothecary book.

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus,mentions of blood, cussing, slapping, talks of sex work and mistresses, um that's pretty much it

Series Masterlist

Chapter 7:

You had placed Coryo on bed rest a couple of days ago so he'll be able to attend his late wife's funeral. He'll be weak, but at least he'd be able to go to the funeral looking a bit better than he was the night he came home, barely able to stand on his own two feet from the poison he drank.

A funeral that Ma and Strabo Plinth were arranging. They, surprisingly, live in the apartment underneath the penthouse on the 11th floor. You met them when they came over, wanting to check on Coryo; let him know that they'd take care of all of Livia's funeral arrangements.

Ma Plinth was a warm, frumpy woman that just had a motherly aura to her. She talked your ear off and kept stuffing her homemade cookies (she called the little brown scallop-edged things biscochitos) into your hand as you sat with her in the main room while her husband talked to Coryo in the master bedroom.

Apparently, they tried the townhouse he lived in with Livia first, but when they were only met with an Avox, they decided to try the Corso penthouse.

Ma Plinth was so sweet and friendly. She even offered to help you transition into life in the Capitol as a person coming from the districts.

“It can be so difficult adjusting to life here when all you know is the simple life of your district; your traditions. I'm only one floor away if you need anything, sweetheart.”

Did she know something you didn't? Because your stay in the Capitol with Coryo's only temporary, until Victor's Village in 12 is done being built.

Meanwhile, as Ma Plinth showered you with motherly affection, her husband had his own talk with Coryo. The talk about the funeral was brief, but that wasn't the only thing they were talking about.

No.

They were also talking about you.

“I take it that girl's the victor you had me sponsor during the games.” Strabo Plinth told Coriolanus, a knowing look on his old, wrinkle-weary tan face.

“You're correct, Sir.” The platinum blonde nodded. Adjusting himself against his pillows and headboard, he added in, “She's the one I had you sponsor, ensuring her Victory by being sent that pocket knife.”

“Is she staying with you now?”

“Yes, we're living together.” Coriolanus nodded.

“She won't be as valuable for you to sell if she's used, Coriolanus.” Strabo remarked in a business-like tone.

“I'm not selling her, Sir. I'm keeping her for myself.”

“So, she's your new mistress.” Strabo surmised. He could see the appeal the girl had to his adopted heir. She was from District 12 and the Head Gamemaker had spent some time there in his youth…

“No, she’ll never be my mistress.” Coriolanus shook his head, causing Strabo to frown. “I'm going to marry her; make her my First Lady.” The ailing platinum blonde told the older man, only to bluntly ask, “Have you heard anything about the president's condition? His age and health’s been declining; the council must be close to declaring him incompetent.”

“I received a call this morning from my contacts, the president’s cabinet along with the ministry plans on declaring him incompetent and naming the Senate temporary rulers for Panem until a campaign season and election is held.”

“Sir, how soon will I be able to declare my intentions to run as the youngest President of Panem?”

“Within the next 3 days, but I do advise you to rethink your rash decision to marry that victor. She has nothing to offer you and your presidential campaign.”

“With all due respect, Sir, I don't tell you what to do about your private affairs so I'd appreciate it if you showed me that same respect.” Coriolanus seethed, his voice ice cold and clipped, as he narrowed his eyes at Strabo Plinth.

The Plinths haven't been by since the day after Coryo poisoned himself while killing his wife, but they did slide a note under the door about the date and time of the funeral.

A note you just picked up after hearing the knock on the door while in the kitchen, making Coryo a glass of warm salt water to gargle with in order to help his mouth sore heal faster.

The sore was large, red, bloody, and inflamed. But, you knew that by gargling with warm salt water the sore wouldn't get infected; ooze puss, but would begin the healing process.

So, with a glass of salt water in one hand and a note in the other, you made your way to the master bedroom you share with Coryo. Your unofficial boyfriend.

“The Plinths just left a note under the front door.” You told him, announcing your presence; causing him to close his book and put it aside.

“Is that what's in your hand, darling?” Coryo asked, baby blues flittering towards the paper you're holding, as you made your way over to him.

‘Yea, it's the details for Livia's funeral. I thought you'd need to see it.” You explained, placing both the note and the glass of saltwater on the nightstand.

Before you could back away, the bedridden platinum blonde grabbed your wrist and sighed, “I know you're still upset with me for drinking that arsenic based poison, but please, just stay with me for a while. Keep me company, yea?”

“I've been keeping you company since you brought me here, Coryo. I'm just trying to let you get some rest so you can build up your strength.”

“I'm healing up just fine, Y/N; you're taking such good care of me, but I would like to spend more time with you then during meals and check-ins on my condition.”

“Coryo, you need your rest.” You told him, only to remind the light curly haired blonde what happened the last time you spent time with him. “Plus last time I was in bed with you, you tried to get me to mess around with you.” Before the head gamemaker could utter a word, you finished your thoughts with, “You're too weak for that right now. You’re on a broth diet and have a painful, bloody sore taking up your entire right cheek. Sexy times should be the least of your worries right now, horny goat.”

“Did you really just call me a horny goat, my darling rose?” Coriolanus incredulously asked, a brow raised in amusement. “I can't say I've ever been called that before.”

“Read your note and gargle with your salt water. I have to make your chicken broth.”

“Perhaps you could shred some of the poultry into my bowl when it's done?”

“No, Coriolanus. Your stomach's not ready for solids yet.”

“You're lucky I'm sick and in bed, otherwise I'd slap you for your bratty behavior.” Coriolanus darkly hissed, his icy eyes narrowed with promising madness.

You didn't say a word, just yanked your wrist out of his hold and left the bedroom.

You had a lot to deal with and a lot to learn when it came to loving (which you certainly weren't doing yet) and living with Coriolanus Snow.

The head gamemaker's bored to death in his sick bed. Coriolanus would much rather be in bed with you, stuffing you full of his cock until you cry from cumming multiple times. But, since you're so strict about his recovery, he’s stuck staring at the 4 walls of his bedroom, looking out the window, reading books, and mentally scheming up plans of presidential grandeur.

Tigris came over to check on him; to drop off your closing interview dress as well. Since you’re busy making broth, you told the stylist to just drop the dress bag in the master bedroom and to let Coriolanus know that you'd be bringing him something to eat soon.

Truth was you’re also busy avoiding having to deal with Coryo. Man’s worse than a baby while sick in bed.

And for some reason he's always-

ALWAYS

-horny.

Doesn't matter that he's still weak from poisoning himself. He wants you and isn't shy about letting you know it.

You know once he's healed you're in for it. The thought excites you, even tho you'd never admit it out loud. Hell, you won't even silently admit it to yourself. But maybe that's because Ashlie, your brother's girlfriend, told you that such things shouldn't be addressed or dwelled upon.

Oh boy, were you in for a rude awakening whenever Coryo gets better and has his way with you.

But you won't mind; in fact you'll welcome it.

You were finishing up brewing the broth for your man while his cousin, the famed stylist, visited with him in your shared bedroom.

“You can't have her sit with you at Livia's funeral, Coriolanus.” Tigris told her cousin, staring at him as he sipped some green tea (that you’re making him drink instead of his preferred Earl Grey due to the healing properties it had) while in bed, propped up against some pillows, against the headboard. Waiting for you to bring him some broth and a new book to read.

“Why not? She's mine.” Coryo asked, blood from his large and painful mouth sore had seeped into his tea. Staining the rim of the teacup crimson; making his cousin feel uneasy as she stuffed your interview dress, which Coriolanus deemed your funeral dress, back into the garment bag after showing it off.

“Your wife just died, Coriolanus. You can't be presenting her on your arm for your elite to bid on her while at a funeral.” Tigris told the atinum blonde, hoping that her words would knock some sense into him.

He just couldn't parade you around a funeral, tempting the rich for the biddings. It wasn't right. In fact it was disgusting. At least he could wait until the gala after the crowning ceremony to debut you for bidding.

Even the thought of him doing that disgusted the fashion designer.

“That is not what I'll be doing, Tigris!” Coriolanus angrily shouted, feeling his mouth sore burn and seep blood. Slamming his teacup on his bedside table, causing some of the rich, green liquid to slosh over the crimson stained rim, he barked, “I've told you, I'm making Y/N my wife. She will never ever be touched by anyone, but me.”

“Yes, well, at least with you laid up in bed from food poisoning she gets a break from you touching her.” Tigris said, feeling relief for your plight. She felt sorry for you on so many levels. She wished she could do more to help you, but all she could do was design your commissioned dresses and offer you a gentle soul for friendship during your tough time.

Coriolanus narrowed his baby blues at his cousin, the kind hearted woman who raised him to be good even though he decided to become evil. “What the hell is your problem, cousin? I've done so much for you and you treat me like shit.”

The stylist debated whether or not she should tell Coriolanus what her problem with him was. On one hand, she didn't want to upset him, but on the other hand she knew that she couldn't keep her feelings to herself for much longer. Deciding to just tell him the truth, Tigris tilted her black and blonde stripe-haired head at her cousin, only to say, “Your time as a peacekeeper in 12 changed you, Coriolanus. Something inside of you snapped and you became cold, cruel, and evil just like your father.”

Coriolanus’ eyes burned with a cold-blooded rage at Tigris’ words. He was insulted that she called his father, the great General Crassus Snow evil, let alone himself that.

Tigris’ shoulders shook with sorrowful anger while revealing her true feelings of, “I do appreciate you for giving me the opportunity to become a well known designer, but I despise you for making me a stylist for the games. For pimping out those Victor's all so you can gain money that you don't even need, Coriolanus.”

“Yes, well, you always were too sweet and tender-hearted for your own good.” Coriolanus scoffed, rolling his eyes in a dramatic show that he felt his cousin was too soft. Too weak. Too naive. Too ethical and moral for the dark world they lived in. “Now, if you're done trying to guilt trip me- which won't work because I'm completely fine with being the villain in your story- could you go back to your boutique and design Y/N a proper interview dress.”

“What's wrong with the one I just hung up for her?”

“Tigris, cousin, I already told you that dress is perfect for her to wear to Livia's funeral since it's black with pearl accents and a matching, large floppy hat.”

“You're going to make a fool out of yourself with her on your arm at your wife’s funeral, Coriolanus.” Tigris huffed warningly as the sound of the phone ringing echoed down the hall and into the master bedroom.

“No, I won't.” Coriolanus snapped. “Oh, Tigris, I'd like for my darling rose to have white rose accents on her interview dress.” Coriolanus said, reaching for his discarded teacup. “Do you think you can handle that, cousin?”

Before Tigris could say yes, you came rushing down the hall while calling out, “Coryo! Somebody from the presidential cabinet’s on the phone for you!”

“Well, as lovely as our little chat’s been cousin, we both have duties to attend to.” Coriolanus told Tigris, his tone very curt and formal, as he placed his teacup on the table and stood up.

Tigris nodded solemnly, only to turn around and go over to the door. Right as you entered the room, she exited. “Please, let me know if he hurts you. If you need any help.” She whispered softly in your ear, brushing her shoulder against yours in a show of running into you (to cover up her whispers from her eagle eyed cousin).

You didn't say a word, just gave her a polite smile before making your way over to Coryo, who was rummaging thru his dresser drawer.

“What're you looking for?” You curiously asked, stopping by the blonde man's side.

“My damn pajamas that I never wear.” He told you. Gesturing to the closet with a flick of his wrist, he ordered, “My blue dressing gown’s in there, please get it for me.”

“You have a housecoat?” You asked, holding back a giggle.

“It’s not a housecoat, it's a dressing gown, Y/N.” Coriolanus harshly snapped as he found the pair of navy blue silk pajamas he was looking for. Quickly, he tossed on the shirt, not even bothering to unbutton it, while berating you with, “You're not in the districts anymore, so please, refrain from talking like it.”

“You might take the girl out of the districts, but you can't take the districts out of the girl.” You scoffed, grabbing his precious baby blue dressing gown aka housecoat as he quickly pulled on his matching navy blue pajama pants.

Coryo might be recovering from his stint with the poison, but his backhand was still strong. You staggered, and would've fallen on your ass if it wasn't for him grabbing your arm to keep you upright. Snatching the dressing gown from you, he snapped out the order of, “Don't you ever sass back again to me, Y/N.” Letting his grip on you go, he hastily put on his dressing gown while remarking, “You know I don't tolerate brats; I'll beat you into submission if I have to, my darling rose.”

You just let out a huff and shook your head incredulously. If he thought that he was going to just smack you around every time he thought you were bratty then he had another thing coming. You'd tell him too, after he's done with his phone call.

“I'll tell them you'll be there in a minute, Coriolanus.” You told him, disdain dripping from your tongue as you spat out his name, before storming out of the room and down the hall.

Coriolanus looked like shit as he sat down at the mahogany desk in his study. He looked drained with dark purple bags under his eyes. His platinum blonde curls were messily sticking up every which way and he had blood staining the corner of his lip since his mouth sore was open and large.

He picked up the phone and pressed the button to transfer the video call from the living room to his study. When the caller appeared on his screen, he was met with the head of the War Council, General Prometheus Byzantine- who was also a member of President Ravinstill’s cabinet since he was the head of the War Council.

A position that Coriolanus felt that he deserved after killing Dr. Gaul a decade ago, since after all he was her assistant.

But no….

President Ravinstill felt that he was too young to be in charge of the War Council and named General Byzantine to the position while anointing Coriolanus Head Gamemaker and giving him a punny seat on the war council.

Oh, how he hated that general.

He thought about offing him, but decided against it since another military great would just replace him. Instead, Coriolanus decided to climb the political social ladder and make allies (allies was a loose term) with anyone that could boost his election potential.

And once he became a senator, well, he knew that he had the perfect political background to successfully run for president. Which is why he started to slowly poison President Ravinstill during meetings about the games. The man was old, so it'd just look like natural causes took him. An illness of sorts.

It was perfect, his plan.

And it worked, since he was getting a call about the president being made unfit to rule the country.

“Good day, General Byzantine, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Coriolanus politely asked the man who had stolen his rightful spot running the war council.

The man he assumes will be his biggest threat and political rival while running for President of Panem.

“Good Day, Head Gamemaker Snow.” The general responded. “I’ve called to inform you that the cabinet’s met with the ministry and we’ll be announcing later tonight that the president is unwell and unable to enact his duties to the country.”

“So, the Senate’s in charge for the time being.” Coriolanus concluded, subconsciously tonguing the sore in his cheek since it stinging and hurting.

“Yes.” General Byzantine nodded, only to go into a lengthy explanation of, “There has to be a preliminary between those intending to run in order to see who the top 2 contenders are; then there has to be a campaign season and an election. All of which must be scheduled with enough time for tours, campaign speeches, debates, and related functions.”

“So, it'll take at least a year?” The platinum blonde, who looked like the pale horse of death itself, asked the former war hero- who he despised.

“Typically elections are held in November, but only the preliminary can be held this November.” General Byzantine told Coriolanus, who had already figured out in his head what he just heard.

“So, over a year then.”

General Byzantine nodded, before changing the subject with the remark of, “I saw that the new victor answered your phone. She keeping your dick wet as you cry over dearly departed Livia?” A sinister smirk formed on the general’s tan face as he darkly remarked, “When you're done stretching open her tight holes, I’ll pay your high price for her. Hell, I'll pay double what you want to charge for that pretty little district whore.” Tipping his head back, General Prometheus Byzantine chuckled, “She’s too beautiful to be district scum; has the looks of a Capitol whore tho.”

Hearing General Byzantine insult you and confess that he wanted you as his personal Capitol whore had Coriolanus' blood boiling. He was seething, seeing red like a raging bull. How dare that bastard want you.

Wasn't it bad enough that he stole his rightfully inherited position as Head of the War Council from him? Now he wanted to make you his personal whore. And wanted Coriolanus to break you in for him too. Oh, how dare he.

HOW DARE HE!

HOW.

DARE.

HE.

Coriolanus stared the general down, his icy eyes hard as stone. His baritone dripped with a firm possessiveness as he said, “My darling rose isn't for sale, General Byzantine. She is mine and I don't share what's mine.”

“Oh, Coriolanus, I'm sure you'll get tired of your little victor turned mistress once the novelty’s worn off.” The general said in a know-it-all type chuckle. “Call me when that happens and we'll talk about pricing. I have to call up some other senators about President Ravinstill, but have a nice day.” General Byzantine told Coriolanus before hanging up on him.

You heard a loud crash coming from Coryo's study. Even tho you were mad at him for slapping you (again), you were worried about him. He was still weak, had at least another 4 days until he's healed up enough to put your mind at ease, and you were concerned that he fell down.

Without a second thought, you turned off the stove and rushed to his study. When you stepped (more like ran) inside you were met with Coryo hunched over his desk, that was cleared of everything that had been on it. All kinds of things including the small desk sized video phone were scattered on the floor.

You quickly realized the crashing you heard was the platinum blonde sweeping everything off his desk in a flash of anger. What got him so upset? His call couldn't have been that bad, could it?

“Coryo, you need to calm down and rest.” You told him, appearing at his side and helping him back into his large, leather desk chair.

“I can't just calm down, my darling rose.” Coriolanus snapped, his tone full of aggravation and cold hard hate. You arched a curious brow at his remark, only for him to grab you by the waist and pull you onto his lap. “General Byzantine wants to take you away from me and I can't have that, baby. I can't lose you, you're mine and belong to me.” He ranted as you placed your hands on his shoulders while straddling his lap.

Holy hell…seems like his call with a member of President Ravinstill’s cabinet wasn't all professional. Coryo's remark made you wonder what happened, so you asked him, “I thought we belonged to each other, Coryo. Why would some general want to take me away from you?”

“Because he's lusting after what's mine, Y/N.” Coryo told you, his large callused hands holding you close to him. Anchoring you, preventing you from moving away. “He stole the position of Head of the War Council from me when my predecessor, Dr. Gaul died. I was her assistant and should've been given both her Head Gamemaker position and her position as the Head of the War Council, but General Prometheus Byzantine convinced President Ravinstill that I wasn't experienced enough for the position; had himself placed in it instead and had me given a seat on the council as a junior member.”

You kept your face neutral and just nodded at him, urging him to continue with his rant. Maybe if he gets everything off his chest he'll be able to nap; leave you alone for a bit.

If you're left alone, maybe you'll be able to use the phone to make a quick call to the mines to speak with Rein. Or maybe to the Hob to see if Ashlie’s there. You missed your family- terribly, and didn't want them worrying too much about you since your timeline of post-game events was different then other victors. 

Usually, a victor already did their exit interview and had their crowning and victory ball at the presidential palace by now, but given how Coryo was suffering from adverse effects of an arsenic based poisoning, all of your events have been postponed. Coryo said that he'd arrange for your events once he was better

But you knew that your family must be worried sick about you. They expected to see you by now, if not in person then on tv. And after you collapsed out after winning your games, well, you know that Rein and Ashlie must be worried sick about you.

Coryo’s long fingers dug into your hips. His icy blue eyes were raging with a fiery anger as he spat out, “That bastard told me, very crudely, that he wants you once I'm done with you. That he'll pay for you; make you his whore.”

Your eyes widened in horror at his blunt words. He wouldn't do that to you, would he? Coriolanus claimed that you belonged to him; that he wanted you by his side.

“Coryo, you wouldn't whore me out to some old general to, I dunno, get on his good side? Would you?”

Horror crossed over the platinum blonde man’s features. How could you think that he'd do such a thing? You were his obsession, his possession, his Victor, his darling rose, his baby, his girl.

You're his girl.

And only his girl.

Coryo cupped your cheek, the one he kept slapping and bruising, only to lean his forehead against yours, “Y/N, my darling rose, you're my girl. You belong to me and I don't share what's mine with anybody.” His breath was hot against your skin; the smell of blood wafted into your nose- the metallic, tangy scent should've curdled your stomach, but it didn't.

Perhaps your time in the games had changed your sense of smell when it came to blood, considering you smelt so much of it for nearly a week.

Coryo's baritone sounded out into the air with the promise of, “We belong to each other, Y/N. You're my girl and I'm going to marry you before fall comes. I promise, you'll be mine and only mine.”

“You're going to make me permanently yours by marrying me; making me your wife?” You asked for clarity, because if his answer was yes then you had one condition to the marriage he was forcing you into.

“Yes.” Coriolanus told you, his baby blues full of nothing, but honesty. Which, for him, was a rare feat in itself. “I’m going to marry you right away, after filing the K-1 Visa paperwork, and I'm going to make you my First Lady.”

Now it was your turn to look at him wide-eyed. “Make me your First Lady…” You let out in disbelief. “You're going to run for president, since President Ravinstill's old and frail; might be incompetent.” You told Coryo, even though it sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Yes, I'm going to become President Snow and you're going to be First Lady Snow.” Coryo told you with such strong conviction. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, only to tell you, “General Prometheus Byzantine is not only my political rival, but he's a danger to you, my darling.” Locking his eyes with yours, he revealed, “Smiley hasn't gotten back to me yet, so I don't know if your apothecary book's been sent out to us, but when we get that book I need you to make me a poison to give to the general.”

“Coryo…” You sighed, the weight of his words hitting you straight in the chest like a ton of bricks. Yes, you did tell him you'd make him plant based poisons with safe antidotes to take beforehand, but you weren't expecting him to cash in on that offer so soon. 

“I have to poison him, Y/N.” He told you, his voice firm, but velvety smooth. He pulled you in close to him, making you lean your head against his chest, as he declared, “It's the only way to ensure that you're safe; that I make it to the presidential palace, baby.” Carding his hands thru your hair, he sighed, “He's too dangerous to the both of us kept alive too long. He's got too much power; could very well beat me in a preliminary poll if I don't get rid of him now.” Coriolanus' voice shook with a deep rooted bitterness as he spat, “I won't give him the chance to overpower me; take you away. I promised to keep you safe and I'm going to do that by getting rid of him.”

“I knew I'd have to kill for my survival in the arena, during the Hunger Games, but I thought I'd be done with killing for my survival once the games were over.” You honestly admitted into his chest.

Coryo ran a hand up and down your back while telling you, “All of Panem's an arena and life's nothing, but one big Hunger Games. There's two types of people in this world, the weak who don't survive and the strong who’ll do anything to survive; who are the victors.” Looking down at you, he said, “You and I, my darling rose, are victors.” His head dipped low, so that his lips were ghosting over yours, as he told you, “Snow lands on top and you, my dear, are now considered a Snow.”

Your hand strokes his cheek, as you firmly tell him, “If I'm to be your wife; your First Lady Snow, then you'll stop smacking me in the face to teach me manners.” Before he could protest, you barrelled on with, “I refuse to end up like so many of the girls do in 12, beaten and broken by a man. I won't just sit around and let you slap me around every single day.” A dead serious look flashed in your eyes as you told him, “If you ever and I mean ever lay hands on me again then you better hire a taste tester because I will put something in your drink.”

Coriolanus smirked at your words. You truly were a victor. Only a victor would have the nerve to threaten him. Only a woman worthy of the Snow name could level with him. Give him an ultimatum.

Yes, your demand intrigued him because it meant that you agreed to marry him although you had one condition.

And that one condition he would grant you.

But only you, because if any other woman in Panem said those words you said to him, well, they'd be dead before dusk.

But you were different. You were his Victor, his survivor, his other half that he'd polish and shine up to be presentable on his arm in front of the Capitol citizens.

“I won't hit you out of anger again. You have my word, Y/N.” Coryo promised you. “But you must promise me to act more like a capitolite. We need to have a pure and pristine image while I'm running for president.”

“When do you plan on announcing your presidential campaign?” You curiously asked. You secretly hoped that it wouldn't be too soon. You just wanted to figure out how to navigate your new life in peace without the media chasing you down because you're with the game maker turned politician.

“The answer to that, my darling, will be revealed all in good time.” Coryo told you before nipping at your neck.

Trying to wiggle free from his grasp, you reminded him, “Coryo, you're still recovering.”

“You're such a strict nurse, not letting me have what I want even tho I'm feeling better.”

“Stop trying to fool me, Coryo. I know you've still got a few more days to go before you're in tip top shape.”

“The day you declare me with a clean bill of health’s the day I’m going to fuck you so hard into our mattress that you won't be walking right for a week.” Coriolanus told you, his tone blunt and full of the promise of things to come.

Things that you're not sure you're ready for. Things that you know will happen with him, since he's so determined. Things that you know you'll let happen because, deep down, you find him to be the most beautiful man you've seen in you're entire life and you want him too. You want him even tho you know you shouldn't.

You're the victor of the First Quarter Quell and he's the Head Gamemaker that has large aspirations of becoming the President of Panem. It's a match made in hell at best. 

But your man's a serpent and you’re losing yourself to him; will eat the forbidden fruit that he offers you.

You'll be his partner in crime; his other half in his poisonous schemes. 

But you don't know that yet. All you k ow right now is that he needs you to help him kill to keep both of you safe, he craved political power, is determined to make an honest woman out of you after murdering his first wife, and he wants to fuck you til hw blows out your back.

And whoever said that life would go back to normal after winning the games was full of shit. 

Because nothing about your life’s normal right now. 

But normalcy is overrated, isn't it?

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth

[ilikefelines]

A Thousand Cuts Until Insanity

Day 7 (October 20) - Moment That Made Alicent Your Favourite Character • Dowager Queen • Free Choice

Written for Alicent Hightower Appreciation Week 2024.

Word Count: 5604

Summary: Alicent Hightower — stretched too thin, flung far out.

@alicenthightowerdaily

@zaldritzosrose (For the divider's. Thank you.)

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59901373

Aemond was the quietest of them at birth, though both his siblings were born red-faced and sobbing. Grand Maester Mellos had been concerned for his health.

“He was born too early,” the venerable man had told his king, “and I fear that he shall not survive the year.”

“The boy has lived this long already,” she remembered her husband replying, “and Alicent tells me he has a fierce appetite.”

That had been true enough, and the knowledge that her husband had been paying attention to their children had warmed Alicent, back then. Of course, he cares, she’d thought with girlish excitement, Aemond is his blood. But with age came wisdom, and Alicent now knew that Viserys’s response had not found its roots in love, or even in a vague sense of concern for his third-born child, but in apathy. It was easy to preserve one’s sense of ease when one did not care. Five of his children died in the womb or the cradle; what’s another?

Queen Alicent Hightower pulled herself out of her thoughts when she heard the herald’s voice. It sliced through the air like a heated blade through suet, and bile rolled in the pit of her stomach.

“Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, heir to the Iron Throne, her consort, Ser Laenor Velaryon, rider of Seasmoke”—Lord Corlys’s latest attempt to save face, no doubt—" and their son, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon.” Immediately, Viserys stirred in his seat at the very centre of the grand table placed upon the dais, grinning with anticipation as his daughter and her bastard ascended the steps.

He kissed Rhaenyra’s forehead, embracing her. “Look how Jacaerys has grown!” he exclaimed, always happy enough to embrace his role as grandsire. “If the lad carries on like this, he’ll soon be old enough to serve as my cupbearer at council.” He swung the plump one-year-old into his arms, causing him to giggle, while all the while Alicent could see Aemond watching with hunger in his eyes from his position on her lap. This was her babe’s third name day, and the feast that was being held this morn was supposed to be for his sake, but you wouldn’t know it from the way Viserys was comporting himself.

As the princess and her husband took their places above the salt, a gong was rung and serving girls began to carry in the royal family's food, whilst down below, half-a-hundred knights and lords of lesser rank dug into their trenchers with alacrity. And that was only at the outer tables – two hundred more guests had managed to cram themselves into the hall, and in the courtyards of the keep, the retinues, with their assortment of men-at-arms and hangers-on, were feasting. Every lord thinks to outdo the other in affinity. Half the inns in the capital were full of nobles who, arriving late, could not be allowed rooms in the Red Keep.

The Small Hall rang with the sound of chattering voices, and clanking cutlery; dogs fought viciously for scraps underneath the tables, as the wine flowed and flowed and flowed. Alicent saw one girl—Lord Tarly’s oldest niece, she was sure—giggling with her betrothed, a Crane squire. She wondered what it felt like, being so uncomplicatedly happy, with your whole life ahead of you; she glanced at the king, whose liver-spotted hands quivered as he brought a silver spoon to his mouth.

At two-and-twenty, Alicent felt with grim certainty that all youth had long been wrung out of her. Still, at least the fare’s adequate. King and court could have no possible complaints to that end. The table upon the dais was laden with hearty beef stew, three large lamprey pies, a giant swan dressed in its plumage, stuffed with songbirds and mutton, and tender morsels of venison swimming in a creamy soup of mushrooms and blandissory, amongst twenty other dishes of varying delicacy.

After the king, the choicest options were served to the table directly below their own, the one occupied by Alicent's own family, who’d been amongst the first to arrive from their seat at Oldtown. Alicent met Lord Hobert's eye — her uncle inclined his head in genteel acknowledgement.

The feast was not a bad one; indeed Alicent had spent many an evening planning the affair with the king’s steward and the Hand, Lord Strong. And yet, the celebrations for Jacaerys Waters’s —Alicent would never think of him as a prince, despite his mother’s brazen lying—first name day had taken up nearly an entire month, with tourneys and balls, and feasting every night. The beggars were well-fed at least, she thought with bitterness; what the courtiers had deigned to leave behind, Alicent had given to the poor that gathered at the Red Keep’s postern gate of an evening.

She manoeuvred Aemond more securely onto her lap. He was too young yet, to stomach any of the other food, so she scooped spoonful's of pottage into his mouth. “Such a good boy,” she murmured to him, kissing the back of his head. Alicent could feel the soft curvature of his skull against her lips, still delicate after his recently ended infancy. “You’ve no trouble with your food, now do you, Aemond?”

Helaena did not do well with loud noises and large groups of people, and Aegon had been all but barred from the feast after the incident in his father’s apartments, Ser Criston his constant shadow, so it was just her and Aemond at the king’s side. After all, he was the name day boy.

“A toast!” Lord Jason Lannister's drunken voice rang out. “To Prince Aemond — may His Grace have cause to celebrate many and more name days in the future!” The entire hall let out a raucous cheer, whilst the little prince looked with interest at all the people who’d come to King’s Landing for him.

“Is this feast only for me, Mother?” her child asked, his voice a breathless whisper.

She gave him a fond smile. “Yes, my sweet. And this evening we shall open your presents!” The queen smoothed Aemond’s hair, her mind far away. Alicent did not notice her son reaching for the king's chalice until it was too late. There was a splash and the chalice clanged against the floor.

“Alicent!” Viserys barked, and she felt herself grow cold, dread pooling into the pit of her stomach. “Control the boy, please!”

Hippocras had been spilt all over Viserys’s new cloth-of-silver tunic, staining it irreversibly. The queen quickly gathered Aemond against her, shushing his incessant questions—" Mother, why’s the king angry?”—as three maids cleaned up the spilt wine. She could hear Viserys’s grumbles and could feel the annoyed looks he was sending her—all the hair on the back of Alicent’s neck rose, goose flesh rising along her arms. She suppressed a yawn, as Aemond squirmed in her lap, wanting to walk: the king called for me last night, did he not?

Alicent could only remember leaving the room. Everything after that was merely darkness, and then a long harrowing walk back to her chambers, where Talya had a warm bath prepared for her. The more Alicent thought of it, the more her palms sweated. Her mouth went dry, and she felt as if her throat was closing up, and no matter how much air she gasped for, she couldn’t breathe—

“Mother?” Aemond asked, and he sounded uncertain. Alicent tried to smile at him, but it came out as a grimace. Odd flashes of memory were filling the queen’s mind—the smell of herbs, a thin scarecrow of a hand covered in mottled flesh reaching for her, peeling skin and the smell of ointment, three rats moving along a bedroom's rafters—and she was going to be sick. She felt liquid working its way up her throat. The queen stood, ignoring the stares of the feasting courtiers, and placed her son down into her chair. She swallowed convulsively.

“Aemond,” Alicent said, voice strained, “stay with your father. I’ll be right back.” She rushed out of the side door behind the dais, ignoring Viserys’s shouted queries. Alicent could hear Aemond crying. She opened the door, barely managing to shut it before the vomit finally caught up with her, spilling out onto the floor as Alicent gasped and coughed and spluttered. Half of it landed on her, soaking the silk of her cornflower blue gown. She heaved and heaved and heaved until she was sure it was over. It's back.

If she were mad enough to return in her current state, the princess and her lickspittles would likely die from laughter. Of late, no one enjoyed her misfortune more than Rhaenyra, Alicent knew, though the queen had means of getting back at the wretch, means which she would allow to grow fat and ripe before she reaped them. The light of the windows illuminated swirling dust motes, highlighting the red in Alicent’s hair.

Her mind felt disoriented as if she’d just banged her head against the floor. Placing one foot in front of the other, Alicent allowed the simple rhythm of left, right, left, right to guide her back to her rooms. The servants ducked their heads as she passed them by. Alicent could sense their eyes following her. I’ll have Larys deal with them. Half the court was at the feast, or elsewise enjoying the grand pyromancer’s entertainments Viserys had ordered put on in the city, so the corridors were deserted.

“Talya!” Alicent’s voice sounded shrill to her ears, as she burst into her apartments. “Are you here?”

Her gown stuck to her clammy skin; she pulled it off, the acrid smell of sick almost overpowering her senses.

“Your Grace?” Talya appeared — from whence Alicent knew not — with an armful of linen, dark eyes wide with disquiet. A frisson of cold understanding settled into them as she took in her queen’s panicked state.

“Water,” Alicent gasped, but the handmaid had already abandoned her previous task, running to fetch a small wooden basin and filling it with tepid water from the ewer. The queen was able to master herself then, as Tayla locked the door and peeled off her mistress's shift and hose and stockings, wiping away her sweat with a cool cloth as Alicent stood in the basin. It was only when she was clean and dressed in a new shift, that the gut-churning fear within her subsided.

“It happened again, Your Grace?” Talya asked, bony fingers digging into the red rough spun of her apron.

Alicent nodded, taking in slow, steady breaths. Viserys will be wondering where I am. She’d left Aemond there, she realised, and anxiety prickled its way up her spine, replenishing her dying dread.

“Clearly. And I was so sure it was over with.” Alicent let out a scornful laugh. Much good that assumption had done her. “I do not know what is wrong with me. Perhaps I've gone mad.”

The handmaid shifted from foot to foot. “You should talk to a maester.” Alicent looked at her sharply, but Talya was uncowed. “Begging your pardon, Your Grace, but you’ve been like this since young Prince Aegon’s birth. I worry that it'll worsen, should you ignore it again.”

Most servants wouldn’t dare talk to the queen in such a manner, but Alicent had an understanding with Talya. When the young queen returned to her rooms dead-eyed and trembling at night, with the scent of Viserys’s rotting flesh still in her nostrils, it was Talya who attended her and set her at ease.

Alicent scoffed. “I’m sure Maester Mellos shall find my ailment to be eminently curable. ‘Oh yes, Maester, I cannot stand the sound of my husband's voice. It sends me into hysteria.’” Her voice hardened. “No, Talya. Any maester would think me insane. They’d take my children from me. I have borne this malady for six years. I can bear it six years more.” Alicent poured herself a cup of mint cordial from a nearby flagon, swilling it about her mouth to remove the lingering taste of vomit, and stood up in one smooth movement. “Now help me dress. I require another gown.”

The queen returned to the feast garbed in a gown that reminded her of home. The high-necked bodice was all Myrish lace, delicate as a spider's web and stitched onto a panel of cream silk. The tippet sleeves were so long that their points brushed the floor, lined with miniver and edged in a grey dark as smoke. Let them think I left for frivolity. A change of clothing to soothe my vanity. Her eyes slid across the hall. The feast had well and truly reached its peak, the noise so loud that it almost shook the rafters.

“You should never have left so abruptly,” the king told her, as Alicent seated herself with easy grace. She could see Viserys’s pockmarked face, frowning at her out of the corner of her eye, but took no notice. “Aemond’s been pestering my daughter. See to him, before he causes any more trouble.” He glanced meaningfully down at his ruined tunic. 

Sure enough, she found Aemond perched on the arm of his half-sister’s chair. The boy was talking her ear off, something to do with dragons. “Is it true that Syrax is fat?” The little prince asked and Alicent winced.

His half-sister replied in a flat voice, “Perhaps it seems that way because she’s no longer a juvenile.” Rhaenyra fiddled with her golden rings, as Laenor handed Jacaerys to a nurse. The babe wailed as he was carried out of the hall.

“Doesn’t matter. Everyone knows that Aegon’s dragon is prettier,” Aemond declared, with that strange confidence that was unique to toddlers alone. “He even looks like the sun. That’s why he’s called—”

“Sunfyre,” Rhaenyra interrupted, voice heavy with sarcasm. “I never would have guessed.” The golden coronet sitting atop the princess’s braid flashed in the light filtering through the stained glass windows.

Rhaenyra had dressed in her usual opulent fashion. Her gown was one of darkest red, like freshly spilt blood, slashed with rich purple damask at the skirts. A heavy chain of gold, to match her coronet, sat along her bodice, wrought in the shape of falcons. 

Beside her, Ser Laenor shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The heir to Driftmark looked handsome in a mauve doublet, with the seahorse of House Velaryon picked out on his yellow half-cape in hundreds of tiny winking diamonds.

Aemond had finally noticed his mother, running to her with a squeal of joy. “Alicent,” the princess murmured, as Aemond buried his chubby face in her skirts, “I understand that you’ve finally decided to grace us with your presence. I do wonder at your hasty departure, though. Was it Aegon?”

Alicent’s mind had gone blank, her limbs leaden with sudden fatigue. “What?”

“Were you seeing to another one of my half-brother’s mischiefs, Your Grace?” Rhaenyra took a sip from her glass. The princess's cheeks were flushed pink, her lips stained with Arbor Red. “That boy can’t keep his hands to himself.”

Alicent felt her hackles rising. The princess was freshly twenty-one and Aegon six, and yet she hated her half-brother with a passion that took the queen’s breath away. “Rest assured, Rhaenyra, Aegon is in his rooms, watched over by Ser Criston.”

Rhaenyra is a fool, Alicent reminded herself. Should she wish, Alicent could ruin her with a single sentence, but Ser Criston’s life stayed her hand. The Marcherman had proved himself a faithful knight. She would not use his past mistakes against him. Princess Rhaenyra had thrown herself onto the Kingsguard, stolen his honour and played him for a fool. In doing so, she’d earned herself a dangerous enemy in his person. The queen thought of brown-haired sworn swords and uncanny resemblances. He was not the princess’s only enemy, of late.

“They’re bringing the cake!” Aemond’s high-pitched voice broke Alicent out of her reverie.

Sure enough, servants swarmed their table, carrying honeycombs and sugar spun into the shape of slender towers, cream cakes and fruit tarts, a giant towering jellies and date scones, along with all the fruits of summer. Viserys slurped as he ate a melon, bits of its pale flesh stuck between his yellowing teeth. Juice ran down his chin, as he reached for another.

“Only one cake,” Alicent warned Aemond. She would not have her son sickening himself before his nap. “And if you’re very good, I’ll let you share some more with Aegon upon the morrow.” 

Her son's response was not the one she’d anticipated. “Aegon’s always sad.”

Alicent sighed, beginning to usher Aemond back across to their seats when she heard Rhaenyra’s voice, loud and distinct amidst the tumult of the feast.

“As well he should be,” the princess's voice slurred. “He should be flogged. That’ll teach him to keep his hands to himself. Who was he to touch my mother's belongings?”

Alicent froze, breathed in, and felt her chest expand with it. She glanced at her husband but he was pretending deafness, eyes focused on his lemon cake. So it would be up to her to defend their child. Again. 

“Prince Aegon is being punished as we speak, princess. Surely you’ll not hold a grudge against him forever?”

It had happened three days past. Viserys had bid his eldest son sit, as the king worked on his miniature of Old Valyria. The child had soon grown bored, and the king had been concentrating intensely upon his craft, or so Eddard the stonemason had told her.

Whatever had happened, Viserys had paused when he heard the sound of crashing glass. Prince Aegon, curious as all children of six were, had accidentally broken a Myrish lens. Glass from Myr was worth its weight in spice, and this glass had been a gift to Queen Aemma from the Free Cities, upon her coronation, and a keepsake of her husbands upon her death.

By the time Alicent had arrived, Viserys’s face had been puce with anger, and Aegon bore a red mark on his cheek where he'd been slapped. Their son's fingers had been bleeding from the broken glass, but the king hadn't noticed, so full of rage was he. Aemma Arryn, Alicent realised with sadness, would be appalled.

“‘Punished’?” Rhaenyra's brows furrowed. “He’s been locked in the nursery. That’s hardly sufficient.”

Alicent could hear the courtiers whispering, likely remarking on yet another incident of familial disharmony within the royal House. “Aegon has already apologised for his mistake, step-daughter. You can always purchase another Myrish lens. Such things are replaceable.”

It was the wrong thing to say.

“You would know all about replacements, since you are one,” Rhaenyra sneered. The princess had been wroth for a long time now, ever since her uncle had eloped with Lady Laena. “I don’t know what we’ve done to deserve my half-brother. That boy gives us only grief.”

And you’ve given your husband horns, Alicent thought but did not say. 

“You would do better to engage in self-contemplation, Rhaenyra,” Alicent said, loudly enough for half the hall to hear. “Your son’s features are rather unique, for a Velaryon.”

Rhaenyra opened her mouth to reply, features contorting with fury, but her father spoke first.

“Alicent, enough,” Viserys hissed. “Do not make a spectacle of yourself, woman.”

Worry not, husband, your daughter makes enough of a spectacle for us both.

She would’ve said it too, but little Aemond was looking at her, eyes wide with confusion, so Alicent swallowed her reply, ignoring Rhaenyra’s mocking smile and Viserys expression of quiet relief.

Some Targaryen’s, Alicent had come to find, were cowards.

The throne room was uncomfortably crowded. Viserys had shown himself for once, having gathered the strength to leave his sickbed and sit his iron chair. Rhaenyra stood to his right, conversing with him in hushed tones. Alicent had dressed lavishly for their guests, in a gown of dark green satin, its sleeves and bodice slashed with pure cloth-of-silver, that shimmered in the light. She sat on a throne of gilded wood, watching the milling courtiers below.

The queen had been pleasantly surprised when Viserys had told her of the invitation he’d extended to her kin. It’d been nearly a half a decade since Alicent had had cause to meet with her uncle, Lord Hobert. The Lord of Oldtown had brought his son with him. The last time she’d seen Ormund, he’d been a gangly boy of fifteen. He’d used to humour Alicent and her brother’s, back when they were still children residing in the Hightower, playing come-into-my-castle with them, and other games besides.

Now Ormund was a man-grown, with a wife and children of his own and there was a gulf between them, wrought open by separation and the passing of years. He and his father bent the knee to them, eyes on the floor.

“Your Grace’s, Princess,” Hobert said, “it is a pleasure to visit with you. We were flattered by your invitation, my king. To what do we owe the honour?”

A dreadful prescience nagged at Alicent, one she did her best to ignore. She’d asked her husband the very same question, and he’d dismissed her, murmuring something about the importance of reaffirming bonds between family. Raven’s sent to her father in Oldtown had been equally ineffective. Ser Otto Hightower had served two kings —and perhaps a third in the future, if all went well—and his time at court had taught him well the importance of silence. He had not been forthcoming about his plans, simply commanding her to fulfil her duties as she always had. Yet Alicent sensed that it was Otto who’d driven Viserys to his chosen course. Why else would the king have invited the Hightowers to the Red Keep?

“Lord Hobert, you and yours have ever been leal to the Crown,” her husband intoned, “since the Conqueror’s day. Was it not the Hightowers of Oldtown who were the first to acknowledge our ancestor’s right to rule? Such good service deserves a reward.”

The queen frowned. Lord Hobert and her cousin were still kneeling — they’d not been summoned all this way for a history lesson. As the king’s illness had progressed, his mind had begun to wander. Alicent was seized with the sudden fear that Viserys wasn’t quite lucid. She stared at him intently. Her husband wore his robes of state, blackest silk shot through with gold; the crown of the Old King girded his brow, its seven gemstones gleaming. For all her worries, though, Viserys’s eyes were sharp. Alicent breathed a sigh of relief…then felt her breath stop as the king continued.

“As such, we have decided to bestow upon you the fosterage of our youngest son, Prince Daeron. He shall leave the Red Keep with your party within the fortnight.”

Alicent gaped. She’d not been told of this. No one had mentioned Daeron being fostered. She thought of her little boy, six years old and cheerful. To be sent away from all he knew at such a tender age—it was too much, even for the likes of Viserys.

“Husband.” Alicent’s voice was edged with barely restrained panic. “Surely such a thing could wait a year, at least until our son mounts Tessarion.”

Her father’s secrecy now made a terrible sense. He hadn’t wanted Alicent to know about his intentions for his youngest grandson, even as he set his plans into motion. Otto Hightower may have been in Oldtown, but his influence over the king’s councilmen remained. For all that Viserys had banished him, he could not strip away the alliances his erstwhile Hand had formed at court.

She could see it in her mind’s eye. The letters the king's advisors must have received, the way they’d slowly convinced the king of the merits of Otto’s suggestion, subtly, with no mention of her father, and entirely out of Alicent’s sight. Of late, she’d been absent from meetings of the small council. Her Aemond had caught a fever, and whilst Alicent had been tending to him, the lords had no doubt plotted and planned and played her false.

And now they come for Daeron.

The king eyed his wife, considering Alicent’s suggestion, and she felt the beginnings of hope. All she wanted was a year. One year more for Alicent to hold her youngest son close, her baby, her well-behaved boy, who didn’t flinch away from her touch in fear, or look at her with eyes that were far away. Him and Aemond — they were her soul’s joy.

But then Rhaenyra spoke, her voice high and clear in the quiet of the room: “Her Grace is a mother - her heart cannot bear the thought of losing a child, even to kin. But you are the king, Father, and know your duty even when it is hard. I say to send the boy away. We cannot wait until he mounts Tessarion. How long might that take?”

The princess was smiling, smiling, smiling as she said this, lips turned up with triumph. Any chance to spite the queen, any chance to exercise some cruelty. His name is Daeron, she thought wildly, not ‘the boy’. Alicent felt the urge, deep in the marrow of her bones, to take Rhaenyra by the scalp, thrust her into the swords that made up the Iron Throne and watch as her face was cut to bloody ribbons.

Not so pretty then.

But Viserys was already nodding, even before the princess had finished her sentence. Her husband turned back to Lord Hobert, and Alicent bit her tongue as they began to discuss the necessary preparations. She would not be able to sway him now. Alicent’s eyes met Ormund’s.

He looked away.

Alicent felt somebody shaking her and could hear shouting: “My Queen, awake, awake! Something has happened to Prince Aemond.”

Alicent shifted under the weight of the bedclothes, understanding coming to her slowly through the groggy fog of disturbed sleep. Aemond: she bolted up, all at once, fumbling around as she disentangled herself from the furs. A brazier had been lit, and it cast lurid shadows all across her guest chambers, as Talya and her ladies dressed her. From there, it was a short walk to the main hall, Talya five paces behind.

Alicent’s heart was in her throat as she entered High Tide’s hall - she could hear its loud beating. BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM, it went. She could see her husband, atop the Driftmark Throne, face in his hands and Rhaenyra’s bastards, bloody and wounded. The Kingsguard, all seven members, stood around them. Ser Criston’s knuckles were white against his sword’s pommel. Lord Corlys and his wife stood beside him, clutching their sobbing granddaughters, silent and grim. The princess was nowhere in sight. 

Aegon and Helaena stood in front of the hearth, tears running down their cheeks. The queen wiped her clammy palms against her skirts and went to her children, soothing Helaena with gentle touches. For once, the girl allowed it. 

Aegon slipped his hand into hers. BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM. Her eldest son was shaking, his purple eyes wide. Distantly, she heard the roaring of a dragon.

“Where is my son?”

The denizens of the torchlit hall murmured lowly to each other, but none would answer their queen. Alicent saw her father, standing at the very back and caught his eye. When Otto looked back, his gaze was full of grief.

Bile rose in her throat. “Where is Aemond?” Alicent asked, louder now, her skin pebbling with gooseflesh despite the heat of the room.

“Ser Criston, show her,” the king commanded. He still held his face in his hands.

BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM. The knight approached Alicent as if she were some mad beast. “My queen,” he said, and his voice was impossibly gentle, “calm yourself as best you can.”

“I want to see my Aemond.”

Something has happened. Alicent knew it from her father’s look, from Viserys’s hunched figure, from Ser Criston’s gentle tone. The knight gripped Alicent’s hand in his own and guided her to the back of the hall, where a padded bench lay. Someone lay slumped atop it, a white sheet over their head, someone with a child’s figure.

Alicent stared at that white sheet for a full minute. BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM. The queen’s blood was ice in her veins as she reached for it, pulled it back and saw—

A knife. Through Aemond’s eye. Its serrated edge shone dully, wet with his life’s blood. The world spun and blurred and then reshaped itself.

“Take out the knife,” Alicent whispered. “Take out the knife! Don’t leave him like that.”

Ser Criston reached over. The blade squelched as it was pulled out of the socket, and all Alicent could see was Aemond's expression, a rictus of pain. Alicent was certain that her son had died like that, alone and screaming.

Alone.

She fell to her knees, tears running down her face. She could taste them on her lips, fresh and salty. BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM.

“Wake up,” she said to her son’s cooling corpse. Alicent shouted at the top of her lungs, the hall echoing with the force of her shrieks. “Wake up! Wake up! You have to live, you’re only ten, you have to live and grow and take up the sword—you’ve always loved it, my special boy. Don’t you want to be a knight? You must marry and have children. You’re a prince, don’t you see, Aemond?  Stop this at once, rouse yourself, you must needs live!”

She could hear whispering behind her, a voice saying, “She’s lost her wits,” and another murmuring about bastards and kinslaying and yet another, shushing them both. BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM.

Aemond didn’t heed her. The boy stared with sightless eyes at the ceiling, as if he weren’t ignoring his mother, as if he weren’t being disobedient to the one who’d birthed him in a bed of blood. Alicent came closer, still sobbing, and cradled his head in her arms, holding him close, her tears falling onto his face. She kissed her child’s head and felt the hard curvature of his skull against her lips. Blood was running down Aemond’s cheek from his bloody eye, pooling onto the bench below him, coating Alicent’s fingers.

My babe, my boy, why does he not look at me? The blood staining Alicent’s hands twisted itself into the shape of a grave, split into strange writhing creatures, slithered up her arms and face, blinding her until her vision was filled with red. BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM.

The queen heard the sound of a door swinging open over her heartbeat, and Rhaenyra’s tinkling laughter reached her ears. She turned to look. The princess had arrived with her uncle, both of them dishevelled and talking loudly. It took her but a moment to realise what had happened. She saw her bastards. Her smile died.

BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM.

And then: “It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves. Vile insults were levied against them. The legitimacy of my sons' birth was put loudly to question.” Viserys’s desperate face. “My sons are in line to inherit the Iron Throne, Your Grace. This is the highest of treasons.”

BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM.

Alicent glimpsed the bloody knife on the floor, the one that’d killed her son. She stood and slid it up her sleeve. Her world was red. The princess was still kneeling in front of her bastards, back turned. Alicent walked forward. The princess stood and turned towards her, but not quickly enough. Alicent stabbed the knife through her arm, felt it cut through gristle, felt it scrape against bone.

BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM, BOOM-DOOM.

Rhaenyra's blood splattered across the stone floor. That was sweet, but her screams were sweeter.

Lyman Beesbury’s body was still lying in the chamber of the small council, when the queen returned there at dawn to meet with Ser Criston. She’d dispatched him to Dragonstone with half a hundred men-at-arms, the night of the king’s death. Alicent had smelt Viserys rotting through the wooden door and acted accordingly.

Her sworn sword stood before her now, a bloody sack in his hand. “Did you find them all?” Alicent asked him, almost trembling with anticipation.

“Most of them, my queen.” The knight hesitated, his expression nervous. “For all we took them unawares, Prince Daemon managed to escape with his sons.” Ser Criston’s hands were crusted with viscera: acting as the queen’s headsman was a bloody job.

“Princess Rhaenys? The girls?”

“I had to kill the princess. She wouldn’t stop fighting, you see.” His expression was almost distressed. “But the girls have been taken captive.”

Ser Criston upended his sack. Five heads rolled out, bouncing onto the floor and stinking of decay. For Aemond. Alicent gloried in the sight.

"Good," Alicent looked into Criston's beautiful eyes and cupped his cheek. The knight leaned into her touch. "You've done well, Criston."

Much later, after all was said and done, the Lord Confessor found the Dowager Queen alone in her chambers. She held two skulls on her lap, one of them large, the other small. Larys stood shadowed in the entrance, out of sight and listening.

“Your grandsire lies dead, little bastard, no more to bolster your crimes. Here’s his crown. Go on, have a look.” The queen hefted the small skull in front of her face. Its empty sockets had a clear view of the jewelled crown girding her brow. “And you, the beloved daughter, how did you die? In bed, at play, or dining, with the laughter of your loathsome get ringing in your ears? It matters not. I ask you, what is Viserys's favour worth now? No doubt your soul burns in some fiery pit, under heavenly purview.” With sudden violence, Alicent threw the skull down. It cracked. “Aemond, be well content. You are avenged, as has ever been mine intent.” 

[llostwriter]

Never Meant To Be | SVSSS Fanfic

- Nonbinary Reader

When you found out that you were reincarnated as a wandering orphan, forcing you to steal to survive. You lost count of the times that you would get beaten up upon getting caught by the villagers. The looks of disgust from the villagers upon seeing your raggy clothes and dirty face were imprinted on your small mind. Intelligence was nothing in this world; all that mattered was the ranking of an individual. There were times when you ended up starving on the streets or almost freezing to death.

It wasn't even surprising that, soon enough, the human traffickers found you. The original owner of the body was found by the human traffickers before you were even in the body. The human traffickers make weekly visits to the orphans, demanding that the orphans give them the taels that the orphans gathered from begging on the street. The ones that weren't able to give any received a beating. All the good spots in the areas were taken by the other orphans, while you were left with the crappiest area, which is mostly deserted.

The income was so low that you even decided to leave this village and beg elsewhere. The traffickers caught you again, and you received another beating. Only then did you learn that the orphans are only allowed to beg within the village.

Every week of the first few months, you have received a beating from the traffickers.

The orphans could hardly fend for themselves, so they didn't even bother sharing any of their stuff with you. Resorting to having to even fight them for some ointments. Yes, there would always be some additional bruises after the fight; however, you did get your ointment. You know that your life is miserable the moment you even have to fight a dog for a blanket. Even the white cat from the village council’s madam gives you the disdainful treatment. Hissing at you whenever you look at its pearly white fur.

You were envious of the white cat. It gets better treatment and is cleaner than the combination of you and the other orphans. You remembered watching out of the village council madam’s window, drooling at the lotus cake being fed to the white cat daily, who later licked its paw.

One day, in the village, there was a huge fire that ended up spreading out to the borders of the village. Everybody was evacuating, while you stood confused and helpless. Almost accepting the new path of death, ending this misery of yours. You would have never expected that a cultivator would rescue you. Your memories of his appearances were blurry. The only thing that you have left of him is the ripped-off piece of his light green robe.

Away from the human traffickers, your life was somewhat peaceful. You would be found stuffing your mouth with mysterious berries that you found in the forest. The stomachaches taught you which berries to pick and which berries not to pick. Cleansing the filth off yourself in the rivers.

You find yourself in a new village and hear from the villagers about Cang Qiong accepting new disciples. That would be a good chance to turn your life around.

There was something familiar about that name, but you were not able to find out exactly what it was.

——-

You watched the large crowds of hundreds of people. There were some other orphans, some kids dressed in rich silk robes, and some kids from the casual village household. The task was plain and simple; it was just digging holes. A few of the rich folks were complaining of dirtying their robes: “This is too filthy!”. “I can’t handle this any more!” “I’m telling my mommy and daddy about this!”. “This is so unfair!” “Why am I doing the work of a slave?!” so many complaints.

So they ended up ordering their servants to do it for them, resulting in the rich folks getting disqualified. “Wait until my parents hear about this! They’ll shut this mountain completely down!” but as expected, those complaints were all barks and no bites.

The sun beat down on your back as you hunched over the earth, your long, pointed nails digging into the clay. Untrim nails for months, maybe even years; you were not sure since you only occupied the body a few months ago.

Each thrust of your hand was met with gritty resistance. The earth, dry and stubborn, yielded only grudgingly. Tiny particles of clay, fine as dust, clung to your nails, causing a gritty discomfort that snaked up your arms, sending chills through you. Regardless of your gender, the sensation was maddening, a constant reminder of the tenacity of the very ground you were attempting to conquer.

There were some smart kids who dug platforms stacked upon each other like stairs from the soil. That is to make it easier to get out of the hole.

However, that also wastes a lot of time, and time is precious.

Your brow furrowed, and you bit your lip, the scent of nature mingling with the dust that clung to your clothes. The discomfort was a constant, a nagging reminder of the futility of your task. Yet, you dug on. It was more than just a hole you were creating; it was a statement, one that would completely change the turn of fate.

Each inch dug was a battle—a slow, agonizing victory. The earth, unforgiving and relentless, fought back, the damp clay clinging to your nails like a tenacious parasite. But you pushed on; you drew in grim concentration, your eyes burning with a singular focus.

You knew the pain and discomfort were necessary parts of the process. It was the price you paid for the freedom of creation, for defying the expectations of practicality. The discomfort was a reminder that you were pushing boundaries and challenging the very fabric of reality.

Finally, with a groan, the earth gave way. By the time the ending was announced, the hole, deep and narrow, was complete.

You looked around, and that's when you saw him. You identified him from the crowd by his green robes. The feeling of familiarity and nausea hit you like a wave.

Your survivor, your angel, is the one that’s going to drag you out of this hellhole.

He noticed you; his paper fan spread out, covering half of his face. He narrowed his eyes at you indifferently.

—-

Being a disciple of Qing Jing Peak Lord was not that bad; your life clearly improved. You don't have to fight other orphans or animals for anything. All living expenses were provided for you. You shared your daily tasks with the other disciples. During your free time, you’ll spend time watching your Shizun from afar. Aside from that, the looks of admiration and gratitude were obvious.

The wind carries the rumors.

It has only been a few months since you became a disciple, and you have already heard your share of the rumors surrounding your savior.

The rumors surrounding your savior were outrageous; you would never bring yourself to believe them, even if there were doubts surrounding them.

in the following months. You have always kept a safe distance from your savior. You can’t deny that there were desires of wanting to have physical contact with your savior. It was pure nonetheless, but it still felt wrong. Even after you left behind your past of being an orphan, you still felt filthy and tainted. You were disgusted by yourself. It wasn’t long before you realized that you had romantic feelings for your savior.

But you never have the courage to confess. Your savior was close, yet felt so distant at the same time.

——

A young disciple named Luo Binghe had just arrived, and he was taken in as your Shidi. From the start, he showed himself to be a hardworking and persistent teenager, always displaying politeness towards everyone. However, despite his good nature, your savior began to treat him unfairly, burdening him with an excessive number of tasks compared to the other disciples. This sudden change in attitude was puzzling.

Witnessing Luo Binghe being disciplined unjustly, you found yourself tending to his wounds and gradually forming a close bond with him. Despite the mistreatment, he never blamed Shizun for his hardships. As time went on, the male disciples following your savior joined in on the unfair treatment, directing their animosity towards Luo Binghe by assigning him all the unwanted tasks. Despite this, Luo Binghe continued to fulfill his duties without complaint.

Nonetheless, it pains you to see your savior acting like a monster.

——

You were unsure how it turned out this way. One day, your savior’s personality completely changed. It was almost like they were completely different people. It was also the first time that your ‘savior’ approached you willingly, apart from missions. You were happy about it, but something felt horribly wrong at the same time.

You have always had that feeling since you first became a disciple. It was wrong for a disciple to have romantic feelings for their Shizun.

This was different; it was almost as if this was an imposter living in your savior’s body; their aura was different. The imposter gives out a more outgoing and calm vibe, while your savior gives out a more indifferent and cold vibe. There is no possible way that one person could change in the span of hardly one day.

But how is it possible that somebody would look exactly like your savior? Did your savior have a twin brother? If yes, where is your savior right now? There’s no possible way that your savior would just abandon his disciples and his title without a single word.

The imposter attempted to mend your relationship; however, it didn’t work. The longer that the imposter stayed, the more hatred that you grew for him.

At the same time, you were glad that he’s now nicer to his disciples and Shidi Luo Binghe. But you simply can't get over the fact that the imposter is using your savior’s body without any permission.

Months turned into years, and your hatred toward the imposter grew numb, just like your feelings. There was no use for it anymore. You ended up leaving the peak and becoming a wandering cultivator.

When your Shidi Luo Binghe married the imposter, they invited you, hoping that you would come. Which you did.

As you watched the smiles imprinted on both your Shidi Luo Binghe and the imposter, Only then did you realize that you had officially lost your savior. Forever.

[joelsleftknee]

the earth from a distance (see how it shines)

Part 1

Pairing: Joel Miller!Reader | Post-outbreak/Jackson Era

WC: 1.9k

Multiple part series: Series Masterlist

Content Warnings: Canon divergent obvi cause Joel doesn’t go golfing in this one, ANGST ANGST ANGST (literally wrote this cause there’s not enough agnst to read out there), age gap, reader has hair and is shorter than Joel but no physical descriptions other than that, cute winter romance, bookworm reader, eventual fluff, eventual hurt/comfort.

Joel turned over a worn copy of Pride and Prejudice in his hands before putting it back on the shelf. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, eyeing the cracked spines of the books flanking him, replaying Maria’s advice in his head telling him to go check out the new library and pick a good book to curl up with for the winter. Before the outbreak, he never was much of a reader, other than a few self-help books here and there—sort of second-nature for the entrepreneurial, single dad.

With the endless amounts of downtime and sudden luxury of boredom of small town life in Jackson, Maria chided him to find a new hobby. Granted, he was running out of ideas for figurines to carve and chord progressions to strum. But he knew that, more than anything, Maria felt bad for him. And if there was one thing his bruised heart could not handle was pity. So here he was, if only to convince his sister-in-law that he was perfectly capable of going out into town (read: the postal-shop-turned-library about, at most, 70 feet from his home).

“Hello! How can I help you?”

Joel turned on his heels, peering over the shelf that reached just past his chin.

You sat behind a small wooden desk—one he’d built a while back, he realized, and traded in exchange for a camera and a very much expired roll of film that he was yet to use, in fear that he would waste it. In Jackson’s bartering system, goods made their way around the small population fairly easy, so he was not surprised to see his desk had found a new home.

Joel blinked then, gaze catching on the bright smile stretched across your lips. You were leaning forward, forearms braced on the desk surface as though you were excited to see someone come in. Your face was not exactly familiar, so he wondered if you’d just moved into Jackson or if he had been as unsociable as Tommy argued he was. “Always holed up in your home, brother. Live a little,” the younger Miller would say every time Joel turned down an invitation to one of the many town events that the City Council—led by Maria—put on like, at this point, every single weekend.

“No,” he said finally, his pause so long and the sounds of his voice thick enough that he had to clear his throat in hopes to ease the awkwardness. “No, I’m all set, but thank you.” He gave you a nod, his eyes meeting your bright gaze before casting down to the floor

“All right, just let me know if anything comes up,” you said, your voice melodious in a way that reminded him of hot summers by the lake under the Texan sun. He glanced at you again, but your eyes were now trained on the book opened before you. So he took advantage of that moment to take you in.

You were young, he concluded at the sight of your vibrant skin and the faint seemingly evergreen smile that hadn’t been weathered off your face yet.

And—your lips. The shape of them was… enthralling. In the same way that a ripe fruit on the highest branch of a tree is. And these days, fruit was scarce. In the Apocalypse. And at the brink of winter.

“Actually,” Joel muttered before repeating the word again, slightly louder. “Yes.”

You looked up at him, unaware he had been eyeing you like a man stranded on a desert island coming across an oasis. Your head tilted to the side, as if in confusion.

“I do need help, I mean. With choosing a book,” he added quickly, realizing that perhaps he had been staring at you longer than he estimated. The thought didn’t sit well, embarrassment roiling in his stomach. He was acting like a lonely old man.

Which was accurate, he supposed. Though his pride refuses to admit it.

He resisted the urge to exit the room altogether in shame, only because you stood up with what had to be the loveliest smile he had seen in decades. Coming around the desk—his desk—you walked over to him.

Cradled between the two bookshelves flanking you, you stood before him, clad in a forest green cardigan that most definitely had been knitted from the wool of the sheep in Jackson.

“So,” you started, waving your hands to encompass the old tomes, “what kind of book are you looking for?” You looked up at him, and that was when he realized that you were short. Or at least shorter than him.

Joel shifted on his feet. “Well…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’ll be honest with ya. I don’t know much ‘bout books.”

Goodness. Lame. He was embarrassing himself. He sounded like he learned how to speak yesterday. Like he learned what a book was today.

But you giggled, and the sound made something jump inside his chest. “No worries, I’ll be delighted to help you choose something good.” You turned to one of the shelves, adding, “As you can see, our collection is still rather small. It’s difficult to find books. Especially ones that haven’t been absolutely destroyed by the elements.”

He nodded, racking his brain for something to say but coming up blank.

Leave. He needed to leave. What was he doing?

He gulped, the words “Actually, I’m good—I’ll just head out” about to leave his lips when you said, “You’re Joel Miller.”

It wasn’t a question. In fact, it was a reminder. A reminder that though he did not know you, you knew him. And that meant you must know what type of person he was, too.

No one in Jackson dared crossed him, and no one actually expressed outright dislike for him. Instead, it was avoidance. People avoided him in the way one avoids the scary and cryptic next-door-neighbor who might or might not have spent the past twenty years in prison. Except he actually was the scary neighbor, he supposed. He carried the weight of the sins that had kept him alive for the past two decades like a stone around his neck.

He was sure you’d heard of those sins already.

“That I am,” he said, with a nod so solemn that it almost looked like he was confessing a crime.

Regardless, you still smiled. “It’s great to finally meet you.” Your index finger ran over the spines of the books as you scanned the titles, searching. “I’ve heard great things about you.”

Joel stiffened, jaw setting.

“I’m friends with Maria,” you continued. “She’s been so sweet, helping me set this place up. It’s like a dream.” Your eyes crinkled at the corners. “And she’s mentioned you a few times. She said you might stop by, looking for your next read. Something to curl up with when it’s cold outside, specifically.” Your eyebrows raised briefly, attention snagged by one of the titles, before resuming your search. “She also said you haven’t read much in a while. And that Ellie—your daughter. She’s been the only one to get you to read anything lately. And they’re, in Maria’s words, ““just silly books about space.””

He tilted his head. “Did she also tell you my blood type?”

He panicked for a second, thinking the joke might’ve come off the wrong way, but your shoulders shook in a delighted chuckle. He wasn’t able to stop the small smile that twitched the corner of his lips.

“She didn’t, but she did say you were an exceptionally skilled patrolman.” You peered at him from the corner of your eye. “And that perhaps we could strike a deal.”

You knelt down on the floor to search the lower levels of the shelf.

“A deal?” Joel’s gaze was transfixed on the top of your head, on the lovely color and texture of your hair.

“Yes,” you said, “you find books for me on patrol, and I help you repair some of your clothes.” Joel’s brow furrowed before you added, “Maria also mentioned you needed to sew some buttons back on some shirts, fix some rips, and do other modifications.” You chuckled nervously. “I promise I’m not a stalker. And neither is Maria. She’s just a great listener. And very fond of you.”

Joel found himself smiling at that. “Well, she ain’t wrong. I do need those things.” He watched your eyes and smile widen as your finger stopped on the spine of a book.

As you pulled it out of the shelf and rose on your feet, you extended him a hand. “Deal, then?”

He blinked.

You wanted to shake his hand. He couldn’t move for a second, but he managed to still his stupid nerves, wrapping his large, calloused fingers around your soft, delicate hand. His breath hitched in his throat at the brief soft touch, and he let go before making it worse.

“Deal,” he breathed.

You handed him the book, the dust jacket somehow decently persevered but now guarded in transparent plastic. You read the title.

The Fellowship of the Ring.

“The Lord of the Rings?” Joel asked, sounding a bit surprised.

You grimaced. “Have you already read it before?”

“No,” he clarified quickly. “I’ve heard of it. Never read it.” His lips curved upward, involuntarily. “Thank you for your help…” he said, and heat crept up his neck in that moment as he came up short and realized he never asked you for your name.

So he did, with a quick apology for not asking earlier, which you waved off under the pretense that “it’s not like I would ever mind being known as the girl who runs the library.”

When you said your name, it made sense. It sounded as bright as you. As though your name were the name of an unknown, most beautiful color, in the same way that an orange tastes just like the color orange.

He followed you to the front desk, where you sat again. Pushing the book you had been reading aside, you opened a notebook that was once ruled, but the blue ink was almost invisible by now.

You wrote down his name, next to today’s date, and asked him to sign it.

His fingers brushed yours when you handed him the pen, and he scolded himself for what felt like the hundredth time in the last ten minutes for the shudder that went down his spine.

His signature was just his name, in neat but surely not elegant handwriting. Archaic and unimpressive, much like him. And nothing like you. Young and like the sun.

“All right, Joel,” you said, snapping him from his self-deprecation. “You get the book for two weeks. So if Tommy’s forecast is right, we’re getting our first now before then. Hopefully you’ll find the story one worth curling up with when it’s all white and freezing outside.”

Joel met your eyes again, clutching the book against his abdomen. He couldn’t resist—his lips mimicked your smile, albeit more reserved.

With a nod, he said, “Thank your for your help.” Reluctantly, he took a step back, still facing you. “Stay warm, darlin’,” he said without meaning to.

“You as well,” you replied, shock briefly dancing across your eyes at what he called you. You offered him a delicate flutter of your fingers as a goodbye wave that made his heart lurch in his throat.

He finally turned to leave, eyes fixed ahead.

The doorbell mocked him as he exited the small building, his boots stepping into the dirt street as he inhaled a mouthful of cold air.

As he walked the few dozen steps to his house, mind addled by the sound of your voice, the shape of your lips, and the softness of your skin, he knew. In his old, weathered heart, he knew.

He was done for.

[topazy]

Tomorrow's promise

Pairing: Daryl Dixon × reader, Rick Grimes × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 4.01

Sensing movement in your cell, you lunge upright and reach for your knife. It was late at night, and all the lights were out in your block. Your eyes nip as you squint to try and adjust your vision to see in the dark.

“Shit, it’s just me. Sorry,” Daryl whispers.

“Daryl? You almost gave me a heart attack.” Groaning, you lay back down. You moved so fast that your head was starting to spin. “Has something happened?”

“No.”

It has been a long day for everyone, and this would be the first night the survivors from Woodbury would spend in the prison as part of your community. You were confused about what Daryl was doing in your cell in the middle of the night, but your unspoken question was answered when he kicked his shoes off and climbed onto the top bunk. You didn’t mind him being there. In fact, it made you feel safer with him there.

Exhausted, you quickly drift back off to sleep, and in the morning, you wake just as Daryl jumps down from the top bunk. He picks up a stuffed toy Jace had thrown during the night and places it in the cot beside him.

“Daryl?” You whisper.

“Yeah?”

“I’m… I’m glad you're here.”

—

Six months later

Walking up the path between the fences in the courtyard, you watch as Carol hands Daryl a bowl of food. You had seen Patrick, a teenage boy, shaking Daryl’s hand, no doubt to thank him for bringing back a large deer the night before. You hated hunting but knew it was necessary to keep your growing community fed. Thankfully, the members of the prison council, including yourself, took more of an active role in different jobs, so you only joined Daryl hunting when nobody else was available to go with him.

Greeting them, you smile, “Carol, Mr. Dixon.”

“Shut up,” he says, tossing a scrunched-up napkin at you playfully. “Where are you skiving off to anyway?”

“Pee break.”

You had spent the past few hours trying to pick off walkers who were gathering by the fences. If the small clusters weren’t taken care of, the fences would start to come down. A few of the newer people brought into your community were taken aback by how unfazed your original group was while dealing with the dead. After stabbing most walkers in the head, you’d load the bodies into the back of a truck, then take them into the forest and burn them. The only downside of your community growing was the added noise attracting the dead.

“I’ll catch you guys in a bit. Be safe out there.”

—

While washing your hands, you feel eyes burning into you. You glance around but can’t see anyone else. In the bathroom; all the cubicle doors are open, and nobody was in the showers. Thinking it’s only your imagination, you go to leave the bathroom, but just before you reach the doorway, someone grabs hold of your hips.

Without looking back, you say, “I thought you were going on a run.”

Daryl’s lips trace the curve of your neck. “I am. But I wanted to say goodbye first.”

You spin around to face him and push your lips against his; the taste of cigarettes lingers on his lips. He grips your hips and pulls you in closer. There was no privacy in the prison, so it wasn’t often you got to enjoy having Daryl to yourself. He kisses your cheek, then the tip of your nose, before stepping back. “I better go. They’ll be waiting on me.”

“Be safe.”

“You too.”

—

“It’s a difficult decision, isn’t it?” you say playfully. “You’ve got so many toys, it’s hard to choose which one to play with first.”

Jace looks between the toys he’s holding in each hand, then throws them both down and giggles to himself. A room that was once a warden's office was now turned into a playroom for kids, and in the library, Carol would read the kids stories in the afternoon.

Jace stares up at you with his big brown eyes and reaches his little fist out. “Mom, mom, mom.”

“Mom, mom, mom.” You repeat, picking him up and sitting him on your knees. “Jace, Jace, Jace.”

He laughs again. Jace was slowly picking up words and was able to walk a very short distance without falling. Although, whenever Rick or Daryl was watching, he’d hold up his arms until one of them picked him up.

“He is without a doubt one of the cutest kids I’ve ever seen.”

Karen kneels down beside you and smiles wildly at him. The brunette had come from Woodbury; she was kind and always wanted to be involved in ongoing tasks, helping anyway she could.

Jace studied her for a moment before turning his attention back to his favorite stuffed toy, a red teddy bear Maggie had given him.

“Has he picked a name for his toy yet?”

“Baby.,” you chuckle. “Oh god, we better get back out there before it gets dark.”

She nods. There was still a load of walkers to clear, but you had set it up so everyone got a short break. Karen looks at you concernedly when you clear your throat a couple of times. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just the dry heat in here.”

After a few moments, you sigh, “Okay, Jacey, I gotta go back outside.”

“We’ll have lots of fun,” Beth says.

She had volunteered to watch the kids while their parents were on shift. You didn’t like the idea of leaving Jace in the care of someone you didn’t know, but you

—

Feeling a dip beside you in the bed, you reach your hand back to feel for Daryl and link your fingers with his. “You’re back late; how was the supply run? Is everyone okay?”

“Zach died. He got bitten by a walker.”

You pull your joined hands around to your front and kiss the back of his hand. Daryl always took it personally when someone died. Zack was just a teenage boy. Beth was dating him, and you knew Daryl would be beating himself up, thinking it was his fault she had lost someone else.

“I’m sorry.”

He says nothing; he just shuffles closer to you. Daryl had placed himself between you and the wall; the bunk beds weren’t large, so you didn’t have much room to stretch out. You and Daryl had never spoken about being together; it just happened.

“You’re so hot.”

“Thanks!” you chuckle, causing you to cough.

“No, seriously.” He places his hand on your forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“I’m fine; I'm just tired and probably burned from being in the sun all day.”

[yannisdesk]

Issues With Act 3: A Tier List

I couldn't find the gif of teen Vi making her angry face, but this will suffice. Anyways I have some bones to pick with act 3.

Tier 1: "Oh, the misery!" - Major Problems

I'll be fuming about these decisions for the foreseeable future.

Jinx death/the implications of her being dead (I personally believe a lot of evidence points to her being alive, but for the sake of this post and intentions - we'll talk strictly about what's on screen). Stop killing off mentally ill characters like this, please. To say it's deserved because she's committed acts of violence is stupid. Every character, with the exception of Ekko, has committed acts of violence that had brutal, unfair, or unwanted outcomes - and Jinx is among the ones where her violence is more understandable.

Caitlyn never apologizing for what she did in act 1. Vi calls her out on it and I thought we'd get somewhere, but no. Everyone else just kind of glosses over that she gassed people in act 1 which definitely led to some deaths. No apology to Vi either for gun-butting her. You can argue that it happened off screen, but seeing that ON screen, especially when Vi & Jinx having to verbally voice theirs, is just shitty. What's the point of having her scene in the opening credits be so stressful and guilt-ridden if she's not allowed to express that guilt beyond a word and expression or two? It also cheapens the theme of forgiveness this season because they first step to receiving forgiveness is apologizing. Act 2 understood this better than Act 3, given that in Vander's letter to Silco, the first thing he does is apologize.

Do we need to go over the implications/optics of the wealthy, privileged girl who gets to act out not really facing any consequences for her actions and getting to redeem herself in defending her city, but Jinx, disenfranchised and poor, needs to be fatally punished? Here's a hint IT'S BAD.

The whole Zaun and Piltover plot being dropped in general. We see Sevika join the council in the end, but that's it? Was independence off the table now? WHAT CONVERSATIONS HAPPENED OFF SCREEN THAT LED TO THIS BEING THE SOLUTION? Is anything worth a damn actually going to come from this arrangement? Also Piltover getting all of them councilors while Zaun gets one representative? *deep sigh*

Corruption with the enforcers being dropped like a hot potato. I guess that just stopped being something people cared about despite it being thoroughly critiqued by the narrative from the beginning of season 1 until now.

WHAT HAPPENED TO THE FIRELIGHTS TREE???? No one talks about it anymore. Did it die while Ekko and Heimerdinger were in the alt-timeline, did it hold out, was it healed once the hexcore was destroyed????????????? WE NEED ANSWERS.

Tier 2: "Spare the sympathy" - Middle-of-the-Road

These problems aren't necessarily deal-breakers, but irked me none the less.

No one can no longer call Viktor "Zaunite Jesus" because that was clearly 15 year-old Vi lol. What do you mean in an alternate universe she dies during the heist in S1E1 and then all of a sudden there's peace between Zaun and Piltover??????? All I can think of, is that after seeing how this poor kid was killed while trying to provide that set off some sort of chain reaction where Piltover and Zaun agreed to make peace to stop this sort of thing. I could actually buy that, however, just, why????? Vi already blames herself for everything so why validate that?! Also, I'm not saying it's impossible for alt-timeline Jinx to turn out healthy and well-adjusted, but, she had to cradle her older sister's corpse in her hands...there's a fair chance she'd still become Jinx.

No one finding out that they were all within centimeters of each other during the day of the heist. Arcane loves to do full-circle moments and endings, but somehow in the midst of stuffing the season with everything they could, they somehow couldn't do this which was on a damn platter sitting for them.

Tier 3: "I'll never be a saint" - Minor Problems

Had only these problems existed in act 3, I would've considered it perfect.

Not seeing the conversation that led to Ekko convincing Jinx to join the battle. Kind of minor because we see him convincing her out of ending her life, and we can gather that conversation from episode 7, but still, I feel like, given how down we see Jinx, that's something that should've been shown.

Having Caitvi bone in a prison cell. I'm split 50/50 on this, because on one hand - that's a place rife with Vi's trauma. On the other, it's symbolic for other things (no, I'm not talking about the fact that it's where they first met) that I kind of give it a pass.

[ashurzs]

STRESS RELIEF!

council duties get very stressful you know! so the president secretly made a perfect position tailored to your expertise! the council's sweet fuck toy <3

cws; male reader, bttm reader, mean tops :(, degradation, overstimulation, skirts, thigh highs.

ver was tired, stressed, annoyed. he desperately just wanted to go home and take a long nice nap. fuck he would kill just for a break! but the paperwork.. he can't risk it. what if he rests, feels relaxed, then slacks off? he can't risk that!

but here you come, making your way into his office and going over to the poor boy. you knew he had to release stress, you can see how hard he's gripping his pen!

it started off with whimpers in his ears, to kisses on the back of his neck, you were about to just beg in his ear to fuck you but apparently he had enough! :(.

..

"fuck, if i knew you'd be this slutty i would've made this position for you sooner.. so good for me.."

the words that had left your president's mouth basically went in and out. you were too busy trying to keep quiet while being bent over his now messy desk :(. "v-ver.."

you felt a harsh sting on your ass, a loud yelp leaving your mouth in response before two fingers were quickly shoved inside. "shut up before the other council members see you making a mess all over my desk.." the thought lingered in your mind, just barely anyway. the shocked faces they'd have, to the blush.. maybe they'd wanna join.? the of being shared with the others made you whine, drool trickling down your mouth as ver scoffs. "oh so you'd like that?"

the pace of his thrusts quickly picked up as he gripped your hair and pulled you closer to him, his fingers quickly leaving your mouth and then going down to grip harshly at your waist. "kaichou, please please- wanna cum.!"

ver smiles before placing soft kisses on your neck, "go ahead baby,, but what do we say when kaichou gives you something hm?"

rolling your eyes back and arching your back out of his grip, you practically see stars as you cum. mumbling incoherent thank you's and whines made the president smile again, oh how cute can their lil toy be?

it was a stupid dare really, and you always could've said no. doppi-chan would understand, but you had some self respect! and self respect means that you won't back down from a dare.

it was simple, wear this cute, suspiciously short, white colored skirt. there was even a cute lil bow in the back!

"put this on.?"

"it'll just be you and me ya know, not like im gonna take photos and post them around the school!"

..

"ya know, seeing you try so hard not to make so much noise while riding me is pretty cute.."

you pout at the male, not being able to throw any remarks back at him due to how good he was stuffing you full! "and what makes it more fun is this cute lil' skirt you're wearing~" "y-you wanted it.." hearing you finally talk makes him thrust his hips up, a pathetic moan comes out from your mouth as you grip on his shoulders. "so cute.. such a good slut for me yeah? taking all of your doppi's stress away~" the praise immediately gets into your head as you clench around him. he lets out a shaky sigh as he clenches the end of your skirt. the thin fabric barely covers your silky, marked thighs, yet it still covers what doppio wants to see the most.

the lewd noises of skin slapping and wanton whines make doppio feel prideful. "you look like a whore ya know, so lucky that your doppi loves how you feel around my cock.. fuck~"

you feel your thighs burning at this point, the thin line that stops you from cumming is almost cut, and hey is that doppi's phone ringing? whatever! he can deal with it later! "wanna cum.. doppi please please-"

"i can jus feel you suckin me baby, i guess you like this as much as i do hm?" he asks before going on to pepper your exposed neck with kisses. the other boy's won't mind if their baby had some marks, right?

hex was generally always tired, his monotone voice and mood always there. but who could blame the poor guy? that's why you had offered to do all the work for him! all you need is for him to tell you what to do!

the first thing was just to dress up pretty for him, cute white thigh highs with a cute pink bow! they were just so adorable on you.. that and plus the faint blush on your face as he told you to sit across from him is to die for! he'll enjoy this well deserved break very much.

..

"come on prince, you can do better than that right?" the whine that left you was audible as your dick was starting to get sensitive to the touch. hex had sat across from you, whilst you had your legs spread on the chair opposite from his. he was able to see everything <3. from the slick that had been dripping down your needy hole, to the precum trickling down your sensitive cock. he was enjoying it. "h-hex.. please.."

he tuts with his velvety voice, a shiver being sent down your spine. "come on baby,, one more for me?" you couldn't just decline the poor mans offer, he was tired! and honestly you were too.. you just wanted his thick cock in you as soon as possible :(. "one more and i'll stuff you full baby, promise."

yet another whine leaves you, it sounds like akin to a choked sob. "an obedient whore in heat for me.." those words were slow to register in your mushy mind, but the sudden thrust of hex's thick cock in you were quick! "h-hAh-!~ h-hex wait-"

you swear you hear the taller male chuckle before pounding into you, each thrust hitting your prostate causing you to let out loud whines. thighs were instinctively wrapped around hex's waist as you loll your tongue out. the taller sees you, he takes a chance to lean down and kiss you sloppily. "hex.!! s-so full,, too much.. s-so much.!" your slutty whines and whines were muffled with the other's mouth. all of this goes straight to your dick as you cum over your stomach. but that doesn't stop hex.? "w-wait.! plEase-!"

"it's okay baby, be a good whore for me hm? wanna see you cum for me again."

woaa longest work to date, hopefully this continues on :3