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silenzahra · 2 days

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Flying together in the sunset light 🌄✨

It's done at last! 😁 Here's my Kitsune and Tanooki story for all of you to enjoy! ✨

This fic was inspired by this beautiful piece by @cherryfennec, and even though it's taken me some time to finally have it ready, I really hope you'll like the result! Also, as I was talking about it with the wonderful @itsavee4117, he went and made this adorable drawing to which I hope to have done justice.

A bit of context: this story takes place shortly after the Superstar scene from the movie, but before the brothers have moved to the Mushroom Kingdom. You'll see some hints of some of my personal headcanons for them, like Luigi playing the violin (a headcanon I share with the amazing @vulpixfairy1985) or Mario having dated Pauline in the past. And also mentions to some scenes from the movie.

The story is divided into two scenes. The first one revolves around the brothers, while the second one is focused mostly on Mareach, though you'll also see some more brotherly love scenes, as well as a bit of teasing. I really like the way both scenes turned out, so I truly and sincerely hope you'll enjoy them! 💖

Without further ado, here's the link to AO3, though you can also continue reading below the cut! ✨

TW: Slight panic attack, slight separation anxiety ⚠

@itsavee4117 @vulpixfairy1985 @peaches2217 @bberetd @pepperycar

@keakruiser @kelbreyworshipper @stripetkattelalala54-gf @doodleydoo101 and anybody else who'd like to read this: I really hope you enjoy! 💖 (If you're not interested feel free to ignore this tag 😅)

Flying together in the sunset light 🌄✨

When Mario hits the block, a brown leaf flies out from inside it. The block, formerly yellow, immediately turns brown, similar to a brick, and Luigi watches it for a few seconds in silence before daring to look up at the power-up it has ejected.

The brown leaf, with a round opening at the top left, flutters in the air, its silhouette trimmed against the orangey sky. Luigi swallows, unsure, as he realizes that, like so many other things in the Mushroom Kingdom, this leaf also has eyes. Black, small and elongated eyes, that seem to pierce him whenever they rest on him while their owner continues to float. It slowly descends between the two brothers, and Luigi almost feels Mario's gaze, in front of him, sink into him, full of expectation.

“You ready, Lu?”

Luigi turns to him, doubt painted on his face. His brother's voice, as well as his whole appearance, is impregnated with warmth and sweetness, just like every time he addresses him, even when they joke. Mario smiles directly at him, trying to convey confidence, and Luigi, just like every time he notices it, feels a warmth in his heart that manages to draw a smile on his lips.

If Mario is sure, then he can be sure too.

Even though he’s unable to completely hide his fear, he nods. Mario's grin widens in a way that shows his teeth and makes his cheeks appear fuller than usual, and he raises his arm in the direction of the leaf.

“Together,” he says, his blue eyes shining with excitement.

Luigi can't help but remember the time when they touched the superstar together, and before he knows it, he finds himself catching his brother's enthusiasm. That was dangerous, yes, but also exciting, thrilling, epic, and the connection he shared with Mario during those minutes he can't put into words. He only knows that he felt closer to him than ever, through a force impossible to explain that only strengthened the already solid bond that has existed between them even before they were born.

This moment, however, is calm. Relaxed. Serene. The forest they are in, near the Mushroom Kingdom, is beautiful, full of life, and it’s filled his heart with peace to walk through its trees and discover the fauna and flora that inhabit it. In addition, the princess and Toad, his new best friend, are also there with them, and both have been happy to answer all of Luigi's questions about the creatures and plants they have encountered. Peach seems to have in common with him the fascination for gardening, as she hasn’t hesitated to talk about her favorite flowers in great detail.

Now, both the princess and the little mushroom man are waiting attentively for the moment when both brothers will touch the Super Leaf.

It’ll be the second time for Mario. The first, in fact, was the one that saved Luigi's life. Mario was able to catch him thanks to the raccoon disguise that this power-up gave him, thus preventing Luigi from being devoured by the lava that had been stalking him for more than three days and towards which he was hopelessly rushing.

For Luigi, on the other hand, it's going to be a first.

He’s only used one power-up so far and is nervous at the prospect of trying a new one. However, he knows for sure that neither his brother nor his new friends would let anything bad happen to him. Moreover, as he has just remembered, it is thanks to this power-up that Luigi is still alive and well.

Nothing can hurt him as long as he’s with Mario.

So, with a new determination rising in him at the confidence these thoughts give him, Luigi nods in the direction of his twin and raises his arm as well.

The assurance on Mario's face grows to see him so resolute. In unison, they both reach out their hands and their fingers rub the soft brown leaf at the same time.

Immediately, the leaf vanishes in front of them as thick smoke surrounds both brothers, blinding them for a second. While covering his eyes with his hand, Luigi can't help but shrink in on himself with a slight cry due to surprise, as this is not what he had expected. Fortunately, the smoke soon begins to dissipate.

Soon, in front of him, he distinguishes the figure of Mario, again dressed in that outfit that makes him resemble a bear, with a red bandana around his neck that Luigi doesn't remember noticing the first time. Luigi smiles, unable to restrain himself; whatever Mario says about it being a raccoon, for him it’s still very similar to a bear. And very soft, too! He perfectly remembers the feel of Mario’s arms holding him tightly after saving him from the clutches of death, how warm and comfortable he felt not only for being back with his beloved brother, but also for the velvety softness of the suit that enveloped him. Luigi recalls the moment when Mario even lifted him into the air, which made his face sink a little deeper into the silky fur, and he’s sorely tempted to reach out and stroke his brother's costume again, a new joke on the tip of his tongue.

However, Mario's expression stops him.

At first, he was smiling with his arms on his hips, amused at Luigi’s scrutiny. However, after examining his brother up and down, Mario seems... puzzled. Not just surprised, but utterly confused, as if he didn't expect something that just happened. Luigi can't help but startle and shrink again, for the source of Mario's confusion is clearly him.

“W-what's wrong?” he asks, worried.

He immediately lowers his head to start looking at himself, wanting to find out what has caused his brother to stare at him that way, and freezes when he realizes that his disguise is not that of a brown bear like Mario's. No: his outfit is yellow. A slightly darker shade on his legs and a little lighter on his stomach. Luigi scans his arms and finds them to be the same ochre color, and as he feels his head with trembling hands, panic growing inside him, he realizes that his ears are very pointed, unlike Mario's, which are rounded. He jolts when he notices that something is waving behind his back and, turning around, he discovers a bushy, thick tail with a flaming tip that, like his belly, is a soft yellow, lighter than the rest of his body.

Luigi doesn't realize that he’s begun to hyperventilate until he feels Mario's hands smoothly resting on his arms. His brother acts tactfully, gently, but even so, Luigi becomes alarmed again, unable to control himself.

“It's all right, Lu.” His twin tries to calm him down, rubbing his arms softly.

“Mario! What's happening? Why am I... a wolf?”

“You're not a wolf, Luigi...", Mario replies, examining him, although he doesn't sound very convinced.

“And these ears? And this tail!? What else would I be? Why am I not a bear like you? What's going on!?”

Luigi is unable to control the rising pitch of his voice, which becomes higher and higher as panic takes over. Mario seems to want to tell him many things, but, given his little brother's shock, he settles for continuing to massage his arms as he slowly approaches him and shakes his head, a soft “Shhh” bursting between his lips. Luigi lies very still and closes his eyes, pressing his hands against his ears, and tries his best to calm himself, but despite having his brother by his side, he doesn't find it easy.

“It's all right, Lu,” Mario then whispers, his head near to his. “Breathe with me, okay? Inhale...”

Mario himself begins to take a breath to encourage Luigi to do the same, and he, although it's hard for him, obeys. The oxygen gradually enters his lungs and fills them, and Luigi holds his breath for a few seconds.

“Exhale,” Mario then tells him in a new murmur.

And, at the same slow pace at which he breathed in, Luigi begins to breathe out, and he hears his brother doing it too so that they breathe together. Then he notices Mario's forehead resting soothingly on his, and the contact is like a balm that instantly comforts him. Not even realizing it, he lowers his hands to rest them on Mario's shoulders, and his twin, not letting go nor separating from him, continues to help him stabilize his breathing.

Thanks to his brother's patience and affection, Luigi doesn’t take more than a few minutes to open his eyes again. He meets Mario's, bright with worry, but also overflowing with the infinite love he has for him. Luigi smiles, a little embarrassed that he just had a panic attack because his costume doesn't look like Mario's even though they’ve touched the same power-up in unison.

“Everything's fine, Lu,” Mario repeats, sounding livelier, and turns away from him to take a step back and examine him up and down, his hand still on Luigi's shoulder. “I think you are... You're a fox!” he concludes.

“A-a fox?”

Luigi examines himself again, puzzled. Don't foxes have orange fur?

“Are you sure I'm not a blond wolf? Or maybe... a cat?” he suggests.

Mario chuckles, and his laughter is echoed by Peach and Toad, who were standing a bit away to give them space.

“Believe me, Luigi,” the princess then intervenes, gazing at him with gentleness and, also, with a certain amusement shining in her blue eyes. “I’ve seen Mario using the Super Bell and his outfit, although similar, is different from yours.”

Luigi then remembers the story that Mario narrated during their first family dinner after their adventure in the Mushroom Kingdom. He recalls how he told them that the power-up he found during the fight against Donkey Kong made him turn into a cat and how everyone at the table, his uncles Tony and Arthur the first and loudest, burst out laughing when they heard it. That didn't stop Mario, however, and Luigi covers his mouth with his hand to try to contain the giggle that threatens to escape him. How he would’ve loved to witness the moment when his older brother turned into a cute little cat!

Mario, his arms folded, looks up to the sky with resignation, ignoring his brother's mocking expression, and turns to the princess, who observes them with her hands behind her back and a wide smile on her lips.

“So...?” Mario asks, raising a hand inquisitively.

“Luigi: you're a Kitsune,” Peach reveals with poise, her attention fixed on him.

“A what?” the brothers repeat in unison, looking at each other, their surprise reflected in each other's eyes.

Toad laughs, amused at their timing, and Peach lets out a soft giggle before continuing.

“The Super Leaf can transform whoever uses it into a Tanooki,” she explains. “That's what I become, and so do you, Mario, and Toad, and many others. But,” she adds, raising a finger to silence the questions the brothers were about to ask, “sometimes, when two people who share a very strong and deep bond use the Super Leaf at the same time, it is likely that one becomes a Tanooki and the other a Kitsune. This is because, according to legends, they are animals that often lived together, helped each other and came to behave and love each other like siblings. And proof of this” she adds, extending her hands towards both of them “are the bandanas that have appeared with your outfits.”

Luigi hadn't even noticed the bandana around his neck until he feels Peach slightly sliding a finger across it. Luigi grabs it and pulls the end carefully, and smiles when he sees that the garment is a soft green that reminds him of the color of the trees in summer. The princess' words keep echoing in his head, and he considers them as his eyes and fingers roam over the bandana almost absent-mindedly. Is it true, then? Has he turned into a Kitsune because of his bond with Mario? Is that the reason why, the first time he tried the power-up, his brother didn't wear a red bandana around his neck? Has it appeared... because of him? Because they grabbed the leaf together?

Fingers on his shoulder bring him back to the present. Turning his head, Luigi meets the warm smile of his twin, who, with his other hand, holds the red garment around his neck. Luigi's eyes open wide as he realizes that his theory is correct: indeed, using the power-up at the same time is what has caused both bandanas to appear, as a symbol of the bond that unites them. A pleased smile blossoms on his face. When his gaze meets Mario's, he feels it, right there: the bond, which has linked them since before they were even born, has continued to grow all these years, all their lives, and now, due to the magic of the power-up, it feels more solid and intense than ever. Luigi thinks he could almost touch it, even, if he were to lift his hand between his brother and himself.

But he doesn't need to. Sure, he can touch the bond he shares with his twin. He does it every time his hand finds Mario's. He does it every time his sibling embraces him with that impetus and effusiveness that characterize him, making him feel loved and protected and safe. He does so now, in fact, while Mario's fingers linger on his shoulder, brushing it affectionately.

They share a silent glance, smiling. They don't need words: their eyes speak for them. Both their faces gleam with emotion, and Luigi knows that Mario is feeling the same way he is. He knows they both notice how their connection, just like when they used the star, has been enhanced. Intensified. Strengthened.

Their bond is firm, never-ending and unbreakable.

Despite their mutual understanding, Luigi notices that, little by little, Mario's expression becomes naughty. His brother then begins to shake his raccoon tail and, after giving him a gentle and playful tap on the shoulder, he begins to soar into the air.

“Come on, Lu!” he says, inviting him with a wave of his hand. “Let's go for a ride!”

Although his brother's enthusiasm is contagious, Luigi vacillates, unsure. It's one thing to understand why his costume is different from Mario's, and quite another to actually use it. Hesitantly, he observes his back, where his flaming limb sways softly. Will it really be able to keep him in the air? Won't he fall into the ground?

Peach's slender fingers on his shoulder startle him a little.

“It's completely safe, Luigi,” she promises him, giving him a smile full of sweetness. “You can fly, I assure you.”

“Yes,” Toad exclaims, excited. “You'll do great, you'll see.”

“Lu?” Mario lands in front of him and looks at his twin with a raised eyebrow. “Is everything all right?”

“Oh! Uh... Y-yes,” Luigi mumbles, not wanting to worry him, nor the princess or Toad, and massages his head nervously. “I-I just don't quite know how to... How to...”

As he speaks, he glances again at his tail, which is still wagging of its own accord, and stares at it with a worried expression that reflects his insecurity. Luckily, Mario, his dear brother, knows him so well that he doesn't need Luigi to finish the sentence.

“Don't worry!” he exclaims, and grabs him firmly with both hands, wrapping his fingers around Luigi's wrist, their palms touching. “I'll guide you. I won't let you fall, Lu. I promise.”

Luigi didn't need Mario to promise him: he knows his sibling won't let him fall for anything in the world, no matter what. He ignores how his Kitsune power-up works, but his trust in Mario is so blind and deep that he nods before he realizes it, smiling at his twin’s energy. Mario tugs gently at him, beginning to rise again, and Luigi barely has time to swallow before his own tail, which definitely seems to be alive, begins to pull him away from the ground as well.

And suddenly, Luigi is flying.

Panic overtakes him again the second his brain registers this information. His limb flails on its own, yes, but Luigi can't help but start shaking his legs as he clutches Mario with both hands, desperate, a shriek of fright escaping his throat. His breathing is racing again, and he wonders, terrified, at what point did it occur to him that this would be a good idea.

“It's all right!” Mario hastens to reassure him, his grip around his wrist more resolute and solid than ever. “You can do it, Luigi! Trust the tail!”

“W-what?”

Luigi isn't sure he heard correctly: trust the tail? Out of inertia, Luigi looks over his shoulder to take a peek at it. The limb rotates on itself, functioning like a helicopter propeller, and a twinge of embarrassment overcomes Luigi when he notices that his lower part is a pinch higher than the rest of his body.

He can't deny that his new friend doesn't seem willing to let him fall.

“I know it's weird,” Mario continues, his voice sounding calm and soft, “but the tail knows what to do. You just have to focus on its movements, and you can learn to control it.”

“Control it?” Luigi repeats, turning to his brother. “Can you do that?”

“Yes!” Mario nods assuredly, giving him an encouraging smile. “You'll see: it's much easier than it looks! Just focus. Can you feel it spinning behind you?”

Clinging to Mario, whose tail moves confidently in the air, Luigi makes an effort to listen to his explanation and follow his instructions. Inadvertently, he frowns as he tries to understand how this power-up works. As Mario has told him, the tail seems to know what it needs to do to keep him in the air, but it's up to Luigi to learn how to manage it so he can move in any direction he pleases. Also, as Mario points out, with some practice he will reach great speed, and even though he doesn't mention it, Luigi immediately understands that he’s remembering the moment he saved him from being burned to death.

Had it not been for the celerity of his raccoon outfit, Mario wouldn’t have made it in time.

This certainty only strengthens Luigi's determination. He has to get the hang of his fox costume. What if something happens that causes Mario to be in danger? What if he's the one who needs Luigi to save him from certain death? Luigi doesn't want to imagine the worst, but of course he plans to be there for his brother at all times. This sudden fear is but one more motivation to encourage him to learn.

His brow is still furrowed. He doesn't notice, but his tongue pokes out from between his lips as he focuses on the sway of his tail, whose fur glistens, somewhat darker, in the sunset light. His fingers are still clamped around Mario's, who hasn't let go of his wrist for a second.

“That's it, Lu,” he says, satisfied with his effort. “You're almost there! I know it's not easy, but you can do it, little brother. I believe in you.”

At the passion in his brother's words, Luigi turns his face towards him. Mario, holding him, grins widely, his smile and his blue gaze full not only of affection, but of faith. An unshakable faith in him, in Luigi, that makes something stir inside him.

Luigi has never doubted that his brother believes in him. Mario has always done so, even the times when Luigi has most distrusted himself. He did so when Luigi started practicing violin, even though many of his classmates mocked him and undermined his self-esteem. He did it when Luigi competed in track and field in high school, something Luigi loved to do but, again, was insecure because of the laughter of the other students. He did it when Luigi began to learn the ins and outs of plumbing so he could work with Mario, even though Luigi felt clumsier than usual.

On all those occasions, Mario was there. Not only did he defend and protect his little brother from those who made fun of him and his skills, but he made sure to tell him over and over again how good he was at athletics, plumbing and playing the violin. He always spoke passionately about how exciting it was to watch Luigi run around the track or listen to him perform his favorite pieces, and he emphasized endlessly every little thing Luigi learned when they were preparing to be plumbers, praising him incessantly. Mario did it not just because he wanted to encourage his twin and make him feel better, but because he believed in him wholeheartedly.

He believes in him wholeheartedly.

And, of course, he still does now that he’s teaching Luigi how to use a power that is completely new to him.

Luigi realizes in that instant that this, the blind faith that Mario has always placed in him, is all he has needed throughout his life to progress, to grow, to improve.

To, in short, believe in himself.

If Mario believes in him, Luigi knows that he’s capable of doing whatever he sets his mind to.

And at this moment, Mario knows that Luigi can learn to handle his fox tail so that he can fly along with him.

So Luigi, struck by the intense love and trust he can read in his brother's eyes as clearly as if it were one of the novels he loves to devour, resumes his task, even more resolute to see it through. He observes his limb out of the corner of his eye again and fixes all his attention on it, on feeling it, on capturing the direction in which it moves and also the speed with which it moves. He doesn’t notice, as focused as he is, the smile that, little by little, lights up his brother's face when he sees his efforts.

Until, suddenly, he succeeds.

When the tail turns, Luigi feels that he’s the one in control. Due to surprise and excitement, he loses focus a bit and stops wagging it, causing his body to suddenly slide down, which makes him scream in fear.

But, of course, there's Mario. Holding him tightly and securely and smiling gleefully.

“That's it, Lu!” His eyes sparkle as he compliments him. “You've almost got it!”

Buoyed by his brother's encouragement, Luigi repeats the action and can't believe it when he sees that it’s worked again. He’s wagging his tail and his body, once again, is rising. Almost as a reflex, Luigi pulls one hand away from Mario’s and shakes it too, as if copying a bird, and imitates the movement with his legs without even realizing it.

“Mario!” he exclaims with laughter of pure joy, “Mario, I'm doing it!”

His brother responds with a loud guffaw.

“Of course you are!” he exclaims.

Luigi soon notices that Mario has begun to ascend, gently dragging him up, causing Luigi to rush up and grab him with both hands once more. Turning to Mario again, a cackle caught in his throat, Luigi is struck dumb for a moment, transfixed by the intense, pride-filled glance his older brother gives him.

He can't believe it. Is Mario really… proud? Proud of him? Proud of him for having learned to do something that took Mario only a few seconds to do? Luigi doesn't understand, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn't happy. That his heart is not filled with mirth. That a very pleasant warmth does not spread through his chest as a smile, at once overwhelmed and radiant, blooms on his lips.

Mario being proud of him is more than he could ask of life.

Then his twin tugs at him again, his smile mischievous once more. A laugh bursts at last from Luigi's throat as he feels his brother propel him upward, climbing higher and higher, into the thick canopies of the trees around them. And, before he can realize it, the two of them are flying, together, flitting among the branches and chuckling loudly, the golden light of the sunset bathing their faces, shining on their fur and matching bandanas and lighting their blissful expressions.

Mario doesn't take his fingers away from Luigi's hand even once. Their eyes constantly search each other's, laughter filling their chests every time they meet. Luigi takes pleasure in the lovely scenery of the Mushroom Kingdom, the beautiful, lush vegetation and the wonderful feeling of being able to look down on it from above. The place is absolutely gorgeous, and he’s suddenly struck by the question of what it’d be like to wake up and go to bed every day with such views.

Flying really is fantastic, incredible, a dream he didn't even know he wanted to fulfill, and he’s relishing in it to the fullest. Besides, the fox outfit, to his surprise, has not only molded to his body perfectly, making him feel almost the same warmth as when Mario embraced him dressed as a Tanooki, but it really seems made to stay in the air, as if that was his element. Luigi has only been wearing it for a few minutes, soaring through the orangey sky, but it already feels like a second skin.

Still, his favorite part of it all is being able to share it with his beloved brother.

Mario, who has been by his side since before he was born. Mario, who has accompanied and guided him through the hardest moments of his life. Mario, who has always believed in him. Mario, who has never let go of his hand.

Luigi feels blessed that his first time using this power-up is not only in the company of his twin, for whom he would give his life without hesitation, but more in tune than ever with him.

Suddenly, an unexpected courage floods Luigi's heart, even if he didn't know he was capable of feeling something like this at all. Guided by it, Luigi slowly separates one hand from Mario's and moves it away, describing an arc in the air until his arm is fully extended to his left, imitating, again, a hypothetical wing. With his eyes fixed on the horizon in the distance and his other hand protected by Mario's, Luigi feels completely safe despite being several meters above the ground.

And he wouldn't trade this feeling for anything.

Then he notices that Mario, also slowly, begins to withdraw one hand, the one that wrapped his own, and gazes at him somewhat shyly, as if asking for permission. Luigi smiles broadly and nods, encouraging him to copy his pose, and, emboldened, Mario also extends his arm to pretend to be a bird like him. His other hand is still firmly clutched in Luigi's, their fingers intertwined, as they belong together, and Luigi gives his twin a quick squeeze. When Mario turns to him, his smile is wide, gleaming and altogether plethoric, and Luigi returns the same gesture. In this instant, he knows that he and his brother are experiencing exactly the same feeling of fulfillment, cheerfulness and, of course, connection with each other.

They fly for a few more minutes, enjoying each other's company and the sensation of feeling the wind on their faces. From time to time they wave to Toad and the princess, who observe them from the ground, giggling, and then continue their flight for a while longer, their hands clasped together. Inside, Luigi feels like a child, like that little kid who spent hours and hours playing with his brother and having the time of his life. Tag-team, hide-and-seek, silly and sudden games they could think of on the spot, sleepovers where Mario would clown around to make Luigi laugh, his brother cracking up when Luigi imitated some of the characters from the cartoons they used to watch when they were kids.

Flying with Mario feels like going back to childhood.

Flying with Mario feels safe and fun.

Flying with Mario feels like being at home.

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

Mario has always been proud of his little brother.

He never doubts Luigi's abilities. Never in his life has he ever done so, and that's why he has always stood up to anyone who would try to put him down. That’s also the reason why he’s repeated to his sibling incessantly that he believes in him and that he can achieve anything he sets his mind to.

And he’s never wrong.

It took Luigi just a few minutes to get the hang of his new power-up. Mario couldn't have been happier and prouder when he saw him start to handle the tail, and that's why he then started the ascent without a second thought. His hands, of course, didn't let go of Luigi's once.

And what a good time he’s just had! Flitting through the forest with his little brother as the evening light enveloped them, highlighting the yellow and ochre tones of Luigi's outfit and the browns of Mario's, as well as the green and red of their matching bandanas!

Now, unfortunately, it’s getting late. The sun is about to set, and they must return to Brooklyn, for the next day they have to continue their work as plumbers. So, much to his regret, Mario doesn’t resist when Luigi, always the more responsible of the two, leads him to the ground with a gentle squeeze on the hand.

Even so, Mario still won't let go. He’s promised he wouldn’t, and he won't break his word again. He did it once before, when his brother needed him most, and he can never forgive himself for it.

So until Luigi's feet step on the ground, right next to his, Mario doesn't allow himself to relax. Nevertheless, he continues to keep his fingers firmly intertwined with those of his little brother, from whom he’s unable to take his eyes off. Nor can he wipe from his lips the smile of happiness that settled on his face as they took to the skies together.

Luigi's, excited, amused, charged with that spark of mischief they both retain from their shared happy childhood, makes Mario's heart glow and increase in size.

The two startle a little at Toad's shouts and Peach's applause, but they don't break contact and their smiles don't waver. Toad latches onto Luigi's leg, who wobbles a bit and inadvertently squeezes his twin’s hand, though he doesn't hesitate to pat the little mushroom man's head with his free hand as soon as he pulls himself together, letting out a somewhat hesitant chuckle. Mario laughs with all his might, delighted that his little brother has also gained a new best friend.

“You did great, Luigi!”

Mario feels his whole head suddenly reddening as soon as he hears the sweet and melodious voice of the beautiful princess, something that intensifies when his eyes fall on her beautiful visage. Peach gives a wide, satisfied smile to Luigi, to whom she claps her hands with elegance and passion, and Mario looks away immediately, shocked, while covering his cheek with his free palm to try to hide his blush. His heart fills with tenderness when he realizes that his sibling has also turned red, although for a different reason.

“Thank you, Peach,” Luigi replies, embarrassed, shyly massaging his head.

“Will you give me a ride next time?” asks Toad, still clinging to his leg.

Luigi giggles as he nods, but the princess is quick to intervene.

“Next time, we should all use the Super Leaf,” she suggests.

“That would be great!” Mario exclaims, unable to contain himself.

He immediately reprimands himself and instinctively squeezes Luigi's hand. Was it too obvious? Was his enthusiasm too evident? He doesn't know what's wrong with him, but he feels that anything the princess says or does is worthy of admiration and a tremendous ovation, and his innate impulsiveness leads him to show it before he can restrain himself.

Luckily, Peach, as sweet and kind as ever, smiles at him excitedly, her hands clasped together at chest level. She doesn't seem at all bothered by his outburst, and Mario feels his heart slowly relax. Not completely, though. With her in front of him, it's impossible.

By now, he has come to understand that his heart will never be entirely at rest as long as she’s around. He has no idea what he should do about it, but he tells himself that at least accepting it is a first step. Peach makes him nervous, in a good way, and awakens a million sensations that make his soul flutter. It's been a long time since Mario dated Pauline, but he doesn't think he's ever felt this way. And he loved Pauline very much.

At that moment, Luigi squeezes him again, bringing him back to the present, and Mario turns to him almost by inertia. He’s startled, however, when he notices Luigi's narrowed eyes and the sly, almost wicked smile he gives him. Mario raises his eyebrows, puzzled, and is about to ask a question when his brother steps forward.

“You know what, Toad?” he says, still staring at Mario, and turns to the little mushroom man before continuing, “How about I give you that ride now?”

“Now?” Toad repeats excitedly, his little black eyes glistening at the suggestion.

“Sure! We have to get home, after all,” Luigi resolves, shrugging. “So I'll take you back to the castle. And, Mario,” he adds casually, again turning to his brother, “maybe you could take the princess, right? That is, if she agrees.”

He adds the latter while giving Peach a shy smile, but she hardly notices, as her sapphire gaze is fixed on Mario. He feels his heart skips a beat as soon as he glimpses the pinkness that has covered her beautiful and delicate cheeks, and it starts racing at the way she, upon noticing it, ducks her head demurely.

“I'd love to,” Peach replies quietly, her eyes wandering everywhere, but avoiding dropping on Mario.

“That's great!” Luigi exclaims. “We'll see you at the castle!”

Luigi's hand gives Mario a final squeeze that makes him turn towards his twin, but before Mario can find the words to stop it all, or to curse his dear little brother, Luigi throws his arms around his neck in farewell.

“See you soon, big bro!”

Luigi intends to pull away, but Mario finally manages to react: he lifts his arms and closes his fingers tightly around the soft orange fur that covers his sibling. Luigi’s embrace feels warm and cozy, but the nervousness that has overcome Mario prevents him from fully enjoying the experience. A jittery chuckle emerges from his throat as, gritting his teeth, he manages to mumble in Luigi's ear:

“I'm going to kill you.”

He tries to croon it, so it won't be too obvious, especially if Toad or Peach hear it, but Luigi, of course, catches it perfectly.

“You'll thank me for this,” he whispers back, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement, and before the hug is over, Mario feels his brother's lips quickly touch his cheekbone.

“Oh, you piece of…”

Mario falls silent, his heart galloping in his chest and melting in equal parts, his face burning as if a raging fire had broken out in him. His sibling knows him too well and knows that he can't spend too much time being angry with him, especially not when he shows his affection for him in a physical way. Luigi, well aware of this, gives him a quick, mischievous wink before turning away from him completely.

Despite everything, Mario feels empty when his brother's fingers move away from his shoulders. It's something he hasn't failed to notice since he was reunited with Luigi after catching him before the lava took him away from him forever. He sees that he can't let his twin out of his sight again, that he requires Luigi's fingers to always be intertwined with his, that he needs physical contact with him more than he’s ever needed it. They’ve always been prone to hugging each other, to showing their affection teasingly: Mario often hits Luigi’s hat to pull it down to his eyes, and Luigi is used to tickling his belly all the time, not to mention their secret greeting and the many times they hold each other's hands amidst laughter and jokes.

But, after having been several days without hearing from Luigi, after having been in a state of anguish not knowing his whereabouts or even if he was well, after having been on the verge of losing him... Mario feels that being away from Luigi is like having half of his heart ripped out of his chest. It may still beat, but it doesn't pulsate as full of life and joy.

Still, Mario knows that there’s no danger. That he and his brother can be separated, voluntarily and for short periods of time, and that they’ll both be fine. Nothing is going to happen to Luigi as he flies with Toad to the Mushroom Kingdom castle, not after he’s learned to fly almost immediately with his flaming Kitsune tail. And besides, should anything happen, his sibling is quite capable of fending for himself, no matter how much Mario's instincts scream at him that he must protect him. Luigi may be his little brother, but, in the end, the difference between the two is only a few minutes. They’re twins, after all. And Luigi is as strong and brave as the next guy. He already proved it by saving Mario from Bowser's fire.

Yes, Mario is well aware that his brother will know what to do if things turn bad again.

Pride comes over him again as he recalls the moment when he opened his eyes, bruised and exhausted, thinking he was going to burn to death, and discovered his beloved little brother standing there, protecting him with a manhole cover, not caring if he got burned in the process. Mario smiles, excited, as he witnesses the moment when Luigi bends down so that Toad can jump to his back, which the cheerful mushroom man doesn't hesitate to do in one leap. There he is: his other half, learning the ins and outs of that world they discovered by chance and flying on his own.

Literally! Luigi, also smiling, gives Mario a quick wave and a warm smile to the princess before taking off, all traces of doubt and insecurity completely gone. Mario follows him with his eyes as Luigi, with his little friend on his back, flies away, arms outstretched, his posture confident and determined.

Mario's heart could burst with pride.

He stares as they fly off into the distance, as the reddish light of the setting sun envelops them, as Luigi flies back and forth playfully, and as Toad cackles loudly, raising his arms to the sky. A hearty chuckle escapes Mario's lips, and he shakes his head in amusement.

A movement that he detects out of the corner of his eye brings him back to earth and makes him suddenly realize that he has just been left alone with the princess.

His breath catches almost instantly, and he must muster all his willpower to appear natural as he turns to her. He composes a smile so shaky that he doubts if it hasn't become a grimace and curses himself. Peach and he are friends. He doesn't quite understand where these silly feelings have come from that are making him perceive himself as extremely awkward every time he interacts with her.

And yet, there it is again: the nervousness that assaults him with her mere presence, the accelerated beating of his heart, the redness that begins to color his cheeks. Mario puts his hands behind his back and looks at the princess, who smiles warmly at him, while a high-pitched laugh rises from his throat.

“Well,” he mumbles, shrugging his shoulders.

“Well,” replies Peach, slightly blushing.

Mario curses himself again for his eloquence. Increasingly uneasy, he begins to turn everywhere but towards the young woman as, in his mind, he frantically searches for the right words he should address to her to offer to take her back home. Should he do it as a friend, with a certain familiarity? Or should he perhaps keep his distance given that she is a princess? Should he... bow? And, should she agree, how should he... transport her? He can't carry her on his back like Luigi has done with Toad. Nor would it be right to sustain her by her hands alone, as it could be uncomfortable for both, and her dress might blow away in the wind.

So...?

Mario gives a little gasp and swallows when his brain comes up with the solution. Will he... be able to do it? Will she agree to let him do it? Oh, how he'd love to do it - he'd feel like the most fortunate man in the entire world! Of course, maybe it's too intimate, too... physical. And maybe she doesn't want him to...

Noticing that Peach has also started to let her eyes wander and is massaging her arm with some embarrassment, Mario makes up his mind. There’s only one way to resolve all the doubts swarming around his restless head.

He straightens up and smiles, resolved. Placing one arm across his stomach and the other behind his back, Mario begins to perform a bow that, he hopes, is befitting royalty.

“May I offer to take you back to the castle, princess?” he asks, hoping his voice sounds confident and gentle at the same time.

He hears a soft chuckle, amused and shy at the same time, which is music to his ears. He dares to raise his head and finds the young woman demurely covering her mouth with her hand. There’s no trace of mockery in her gestures or in her face, nor in her voice when she speaks.

“I would love to, my brave hero.”

Mario's jaw drops when she bends as well: she grabs the skirt of her dress with both hands as she genuflects briefly and bows her head. A warmth spreads through Mario's chest as he realizes that Peach has just played along and is more than happy to do so, but what his addled brain refuses to process is that she has just called him “my brave hero.”

“My hero.”

... “Her” hero? Him? A simple plumber from Brooklyn?

Before Mario has time to take it in, however, Peach does something that causes his heart to skip a beat and his mind to panic: after straightening up and smoothing down the skirt of her dress, the young woman approaches him without hesitation, stands beside him and places her arms around his neck, draping them over his red bandana. Her cheeks have reddened, but her expression is assured and firm.

Mario, on the other hand, feels that his brain has stopped working.

For a few seconds, he remains still, very stiff, with Peach's hands on his shoulders and her body very close to his. Mario's arms remain in tension, slightly separated from his body, his fingers contracted, as if he had suffered a spasm.

Until his eyes meet Peach's.

Her deep blue irises radiate sweetness. They radiate peace. They radiate trust.

Trust... in him.

Mario stands breathless, gazing at her as if he were in front of the most rapturous work of art he has ever seen. Although Peach's flush betrays her coyness, she holds his gaze tenderly, placidly, not turning away for a moment.

And Mario finds himself unable to stop sinking into those shiny blue eyes as if they enclosed the very ocean within them.

Before he can realize it, he finds himself giving her the widest, most ardent of smiles. He feels his face burning, and notices out of the corner of his eye how her blush increases, at which she puts a hand to her mouth to hide a new giggle, although her look continues without straying from his. Hypnotizing him. Trapping him. Spellbinding him.

When Peach takes her hand back to Mario's shoulder, he finally manages to react: with a little gasp, he lets out a nervous laugh and forces his arms to move at once. With some hesitation, he places one hand on the princess's slender waist and bends down to slip his other arm under her legs. He clutches her firmly, wanting to secure her in the same way he did his brother minutes before, and rises gradually so that she has time to get used to the fact that her dainty feet no longer touch the ground. Despite this, a soft cry of surprise escapes Peach's throat, which, however, soon turns into another chuckle.

Mario's concern at having rushed to his feet disappears as soon as that delightful sound reaches his ears. Relieved, he laughs too, ecstatic at Peach's proximity and relishing in the intimate moment he’s sharing with her. Never in his best dreams would he have dreamed of having the chance to carry the beautiful princess in such a chivalrous way, and yet there she is: clinging to his neck confidently and steadily as he holds her in his arms. She’s graceful and light as a feather, and smells like peaches, as if honoring her name, and Mario tells himself that he could carry her for the rest of his life and be thankful for it.

After spending a few seconds too long securing her in his arms, Mario finally decides to take flight. He sets his raccoon tail in motion and begins to soar, but, although he does so slowly, Peach can't help but gasp and squeeze against him a little, fearful of falling. Mario's heart flutters in his chest, but he tries his best to keep the limb moving so as not to scare her any further. Peach, embarrassed, turns her head away.

“I'm sorry,” she apologizes, bashful.

“No!” exclaims Mario, perhaps too quickly, “No, Princess, really, it's all right, I—I'm sorry, I should have been more careful...”

“Oh, no, don't worry,” replies Peach. “You are being very careful and... I appreciate it, Mario.”

She gives him a warm smile, just for him, and Mario feels like he could melt right there. He smiles at her too, enraptured, and is surprised when he sees her lower her head timidly.

“By the way,” she adds, not looking up, “you can call me Peach.”

Mario is so shocked that his grip on her body tightens unintentionally.

“Really?” he mumbles, incredulous.

“I'd love it,” she admits, turning her radiant gaze to him.

Mario watches her silently for a moment, barely aware that his tail is still lifting them into the air. Then, bit by bit, a smile blooms on his lips that, he hopes, will give Peach the same warmth that her sea-colored eyes exude.

“Okay,” he agrees, then adds with some hesitation, “Peach.”

He palates each letter on his tongue as if it were the delicious fruit they refer to when put together, and he likes, no, he loves, how good the beautiful princess's name sounds in his mouth. How good that short, precious word feels being born from his throat. Like it fills him up inside. As if it completed him.

Hearing it, her expression seems to light up, like a sparkling star in the darkest night, and her chest fills. Mario delights in that beautiful gesture, and in the laugh that the young woman emits next, joyful and uninhibited, without a trace of shyness. Everything in her beautiful visage radiates mirth, and Mario wonders if he’s the cause. Has he really managed to make her so happy with just a simple word?

Should he... repeat it?

“Peach,” he says again, more confident this time.

And she chuckles again, only this time she hugs him tighter, so that their faces are very near, their cheeks almost touching, and Mario feels like he's going to have a heart attack. He has to force his raccoon tail to keep going or else they’ll both plunge into the ground. Overwhelmed and painfully aware of the proximity of the young woman and her graceful, slender body in contact with his, he tries to focus on the flight and not on the intoxicating sensation that comes over him as he feels her so close. Her hair tickles his cheek, her peach and pineapple perfume floods his nose, and he feels as if her delicate hands, gracefully perched on his left shoulder, are already part of him.

He wonders if it will hurt when he has to part from her.

Luckily, the journey continues, and Peach keeps her eyes fixed on the horizon. In the distance, bathed in the rays of the setting sun, her castle, which Luigi and Toad must have reached by now, is beginning to come into view. Mario focuses on it to continue flying, although he can't stop his eyes from wandering over the magnificent landscape of the Mushroom Kingdom, full of tall trees with dense canopies and, also, the mushroom forest that welcomed him the first time he arrived in that new world.

A world that has become almost a second home to him.

As they move forward, he feels Peach taking a deep breath, clinging to him, and, as he gives her a quick sidelong gaze, Mario sees that she has closed her eyes to better revel in the sensation of being in the air. It's certainly a wonderful thing, something he still can't believe he can do. It would be totally unthinkable in Brooklyn, and yet in Peach and Toad's world, it’s quite normal.

Then, the princess pulls the same arm away again and extends it in the air as the other continues to be wrapped around his neck, her smile even more expansive and radiant if possible. She begins to wave her arm up and down, and laughter bursts from within her with the same force as waves crashing against the rocks.

And that vision, the beauty of her face, illuminated both by the golden light of the sunset and by the purest bliss, together with the crystalline sound of her gleeful laughter, causes Mario to giggle without realizing it, his heart swelling and warming in his chest, beating wildly at the thousand sensations that the mere presence of the princess makes him experience, increased by her happiness and her closeness. Without even realizing that he’s doing so, Mario once again takes her around her waist a little tighter, in an almost possessive way that he doesn't even know where it comes from, but that he’s unable to control.

And Peach, feeling the grip of his fingers, turns to him, still smiling, her arm still swaying gracefully in the wind. However, she stops it gradually, her eyes tangled in Mario's, who, not knowing how, finds himself once again caught by the intensity of the young woman's sapphire look. Their smiles, though wide and sincere, start to fade, and Mario almost gasps as he feels Peach's hand return to its place on his shoulder, her fingers lightly settling on his body.

Mario cannot blink. He doesn't know what the magic of the princess's glance is, but it exerts a captivating power over him that makes him never want to take his attention away from it.

And suddenly, he notices them closer.

Closer and closer, and they begin to narrow, and Mario gasps unreservedly this time. Is it really happening or is it just his impression? His heart is racing so fast that he feels like it's going to jump out of his chest at any moment, and his eyelids begin to droop as he feels Peach's breath intermingle with his own.

Before his eyes shut completely, however, they come alive and lower, just for an instant, to the princess's beautiful pink lips, which he finds so tempting and suggestive. They look so soft and full, and they’re getting nearer, yes, they’re actually approaching his, and Mario only manages to squeeze Peach's body against him out of instinct, to which she responds by tightening her grip around his neck.

And, at last, their lips meet.

At first, Mario stands still, paralyzed, hardly daring to breathe or move a single muscle. Is it really happening or is it just a dream? Are the princess's lips resting on his or is he experiencing the most vivid of his fantasies? Will it all burst like a bubble if he makes the slightest motion? How can he know...?

Then Peach, somewhat unsure, slowly moves her lips against his and Mario's heart begins to gallop in his chest at such a speed that he feels his pulse hammering in his temples. He feels like laughing and crying and shouting and dancing, all the while never taking the slightest step away from the woman he’s so madly and deeply in love with that he’s been unable to accept it to himself until he’s seen his most secret and hidden desire to kiss her fulfilled.

Yes: he’s in love with Peach and wants to shout it from the rooftops.

Avid, he hastens to reciprocate the princess and delights in the velvety touch of her lips on his. Peach's mouth is even more exquisite than he could have imagined, and tastier, and more intoxicating, and Mario moves smoothly against her to savor her better, fascinated by her softness and by the sweetness that invades him and threatens to drive him completely mad.

He pulls her a little tighter when he feels the woman's delicate fingers softly place themselves on his cheek, cradling his face with devotion. Mario is unable to contain the moan that escapes his throat and feels Peach smile against his mouth at the sound. The princess then half-opens her lips in a mute invitation, and Mario, with a certain shyness, begins to explore the interior haltingly, carefully, not wanting to overstep even though he’s dying to devour her. This time it is Peach who moans at his gentleness and presses her fingers on the back of his neck to push him against her, which makes Mario moan again. He doesn’t vacillate to deepen the kiss, and unhesitatingly opens his mouth so that, this time, it is he who offers himself to her. Peach, not holding back, yields to his incitement and proceeds gently, with relish, but also with tenderness, wanting, like him, to revel in his taste.

The delicacy with which she acts and the sweetness that permeates his tongue threaten to cause Mario to faint mid-flight.

To say he’s happy would be an understatement. He’s ecstatic, exhilarated, elated, on cloud nine, he feels like the most fortunate man in the world and believes, knows, that if he were to explode from sheer joy and die at that very moment, he’d do so while being the happiest person in all universes.

After one last exchange, the two separate unhurriedly, reluctantly. Mario would like to continue kissing her for the rest of his life, if possible, but he wouldn’t change the knowing expression, full of tenderness and passion, that the woman gives him. They both pant, and Mario is convinced that the princess's heart beats as fast as his own. Her face, flushed and aflame, is like a vision for him, a vision he could never tire of contemplating. He doesn't realize he’s begun to smile until she does too, and they giggle in unison, feeling connected at the wondrous, almost divine experience they’ve just had together.

A sudden gust of air makes both Peach's dress skirt and her beautiful, abundant blonde hair flutter, and catches them so unexpectedly that Mario risks being thrown off balance. A small cry of surprise escapes him as he instinctively clutches the princess more tightly, and his heart stops briefly as he realizes that she’s done exactly the same thing, her fingers sinking into his bandana and the fur of his shoulder more tightly. They stare at each other for a second, blushing, and laugh again at the same time, in a mutual understanding that fills Mario's heart with warmth.

His eyes drift for a moment to the princess's castle, already closer, but also... lower? Mario gives a small gasp as he turns to the majestic building again, and Peach mimics him as she notices his bewilderment. They both seem to realize at the same time that, not quite knowing how it happened, they’re now higher, as if their goal was to touch the few clouds scattered across the sky, which are now just a few meters above their heads. The setting sun is so low at their feet that Mario and Peach might seem larger in size.

Mario feels his whole head burning violently as soon as he realizes that the kiss of the beautiful princess has so enchanted and enraptured him that it’s lifted him, without him even realizing it, far above the forest from which they’ve emerged. Embarrassed, he lets out a low giggle, unable to look Peach in the eyes, and begins to descend. He can't stop cursing himself - does his infatuation have to be so obvious?

Fortunately, Peach chuckles too, and she doesn't do it mockingly. Her voice sounds jovial and her visage gleams, amused, when Mario dares to observe her again. She brings her gloved hand to her mouth, her gaze fixed on his, and, to his surprise, she lays her fingers on his cheek before pressing her lips to his one last time. It’s a quick and fleeting graze, but full of as much affection and tenderness as the passionate kiss they shared minutes before, and it’s more than enough to make Mario's heart race again and to make his face, without his permission, bloom a rapture so evident that it makes the princess giggle again.

Then Peach, while still wrapping her graceful arms around Mario's neck, rests her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes, releasing a soft sigh at the softness and warmth of his Tanooki suit. Mario's eyes widen almost wildly, and he feels himself melting completely inside. If he still had any doubts about whether or not he was the luckiest man in the world, this is his confirmation: his beloved princess feels comfortable and safe enough with him to lean against his body and relax, proof that she trusts her “hero” blindly. Mario smiles helplessly - is it possible to burst with happiness?

The gentle evening breeze accompanies them and plays with the young girl's dress and long hair, until they finally reach the castle gardens. Mario immediately spots Toad and Luigi, who seem to be scanning the skies with a restless expression on their faces. Mario wouldn't trade the intense minutes he just spent with Peach for anything in the world (was it just a few minutes? Really?), but he can't help but curse himself once more for worrying his dear brother and his best friend. Both of their faces light up, however, as soon as they catch a glimpse of them, and Peach starts waving her arm at them, laughing gleefully.

Mario's feet land in the gardens before Luigi and Toad reach them. Mario crouches down so that Peach can also step on the ground, and, as he straightens up, he notices the knowing, and somewhat mischievous, glance exchanged between his brother and his friend. Mario's eyes narrow in suspicion. What are they up to?

The princess, however, demands his full attention, for, as he soon realizes, they’re about to separate after having kissed for the first time - on high, no less! Will something change between them now? Mario doesn't know if he wants it to be that way or if he wants them to continue as they’ve always been, but what he does know is that, as he suspected, he feels an almost physical pain at the thought of being away from Peach. When he looks at her again, he reads in her deep blue eyes that she feels as reluctant as he does to leave his side. Mario's hand still lingers on her waist, and Peach, extremely slowly, slides her hand down from his shoulder as she also begins to remove the arm she had around his neck.

Watching her, Mario feels clumsy. Inelegant. Unworthy, even. He feels that his smile is barely a crooked grimace that betrays the bundle of nerves he has become. He feels that his face is a burning flame that will cause his whole body to catch fire at any moment. He feels those beautiful sapphire eyes pierce him with intensity and sweetness and... desire? Is that desire or is it nothing more than his heated imagination?

Suddenly, to his surprise, Peach begins to lean towards him, and Mario's heart skips a beat as he thinks she's going to kiss him again. And, yes, indeed, Peach does kiss him, but not on the lips this time, but on his fiery red cheek. Peach's mouth presses delicately on Mario's skin and lingers there for a few seconds too long, prolonging the gesture, something Mario certainly won't complain about. He doesn't realize that he’s closed his eyes until she finally pulls away, and he opens them and can only gaze at her with rapture and tenderness when she gives him a warm, sweet smile.

Unhurriedly, as if she didn’t want their eyes to lose contact, the princess starts to turn around to make her way back to her castle. Mario doesn’t lose sight of her for a moment while she, as graceful and elegant as ever, moves to where Luigi and Toad are, and, after patting Toad’s head affectionately, she grabs the skirt of her dress to bow to Luigi, who, surprised, hastens to return her gesture a bit awkwardly. Peach smiles warmly at them before resuming her walk, and, after taking a few steps away, she turns and fixes her attention on him directly.

Mario jumps back, caught off guard, making Peach giggle. Embarrassed, he copies her, unsure, and barely manages to return her greeting when she waves her hand in his direction. He doesn’t notice that his other hand, having fallen from the princess's slender waist, now hangs limp at the side of his body, nor the loud sigh that rises from deep inside him.

He only has eyes for the beautiful and delicate silhouette of the young woman walking away through the gardens, her blonde hair shining even more in the light of the sunset.

Until something, all of a sudden, intervenes in his vision.

Mario blinks, trying to return to reality, and meets Luigi's enthused and excited glance, accompanied, a little further down, by Toad's, equally or even more eager. Mario unintentionally recoils a little, but he can't help but be amused by the questioning and curious expressions of both of them, especially by the way they clench their fists under their faces. Their blue and black eyes sparkle with expectation.

“Have you kissed?” Luigi asks bluntly, his tone of voice a little sharper than usual due to the excitement. Toad nods frantically, his smile widening even more.

Mario reddens violently and steps back again out of instinct. His first impulse is to deny it, to pretend that his brother and his friend are imagining it all. Him, kissing the princess? The beautiful, ravishing young woman he has inadvertently and hopelessly fallen in love with? How can they think that?

Yet he’s so happy that he’s floating on a cloud. He feels so blissful and lucky that he wonders... what would be wrong with admitting his feelings? Why should he get defensive? What good would it do him? Besides, what the hell, this is his little brother, the person he loves most in all worlds, and his new and enthusiastic best friend. What reason would he have to hide anything from them? In fact, who else is he going to share his happiness with if not them?

So, relaxing his shoulders, Mario slowly draws a smile from ear to ear and, despite knowing he's still blushing, nods just once.

That's more than enough: Luigi throws his arms to the sky as a piercing squeal of excitement rises from his throat, and Toad starts clapping and shouting, just as happy. Mario is a little astonished at such enthusiasm, but laughs, touched by their mirth. Luigi then throws his arms around Mario’s neck and starts jumping up and down while hugging him with all his might, causing Mario, infected by his rapture, to also end up jumping up and down while embracing his adored brother.

“Finally!” Luigi squeals, maybe even merrier than Mario himself, “I knew it! I knew it would happen! I knew it!” He shouts again, thrilled, and Mario is unable to contain the cackle that bursts from inside him. “You don't know how happy I am for you, Mario! You deserve it!”

Luigi presses his cheek against his and Mario shuts his right eye, although his left one is directed towards his brother. His heart beats so intensely, so warmly, that he thinks it could burst out of his chest and it’d be on fire, overwhelmed not only by his first kiss with Peach, but by the clear affection in his brother's reaction to know that, at last, Mario and the princess have taken the step they’ve postponed for so long. An infinite tenderness has begun to flood him and spread to every corner of his body, born from Luigi's sincere elation for him, and he lets himself be cuddled by his little brother while he holds him close, happier, more grateful and blessed every day for having him by his side since before he was born.

Little by little, Luigi stops jumping to give himself completely to the embrace, squishing Mario with energy and vigor and giggling with emotion. Their faces, peeking out from their Tanooki and Kitsune costumes, press against each other's, their cheeks still squashed, but their smiles wider and more radiant than ever.

The sudden touch of tiny arms closing around his legs causes Mario's eyes to widen with a gasp, but the corners of his mouth rise again as soon as he realizes it's Toad, who is hugging him to join in his bliss as well. Laughing warmly, Mario reaches down with one arm to pat the mushroom man’s head, also feeling very grateful that he’s there with him, and squeezes his twin tightly with his free arm. Luigi, not letting go for a second, embraces him tighter, his face still scrunched against Mario's, who laughs in delight.

His brother hugging him with all his love and glee, his friend showing him his support, a delicious and deep kiss shared with the beautiful princess he’s so madly in love with...

What more could he ask for?

#flying together in the sunset light #super mario fanfic #super mario bros #super mario #brotherly love #mario and luigi #mario brothers #mario #luigi #toad #princess peach #mareach #mario x peach #my fics #my fanfics #my writing #silenzahra

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 2 days

Text

In Mourning - Takes place after the events of Jailhouse Love. @rius-cave Prison Au

If you haven't read Jailhouse Love already there are minor spoilers.

Adam stood there, the wind passing over him with the bouquet of random flowers in his hand. He felt numb, but after how long it took to find this place he couldn't back down now, it was too important. Mentally and emotionally for him, he had to do this, he had to be here.

Adam wasn't alone, Lucifer was waiting back in the car for him. He had asked him to stay back and that he needed to do this part on his own.

Reluctantly, Lucifer let him, he watched the brunette walk away down the rows of tombstones. For the beautiful sunny day, it was a rather grim one.

Adam and Lucifer spent a lot time online trying to find where Adam's biological parents were buried. Sera wouldn't even as much tell Adam their names. The only reason he knows what they looked like was because of a photo he found tucked away of the three of them when he was just a newborn baby.

He looked like his mother, she had long brown wavy hair, brown eyes, and a wide smile, she was also very tan. His father had black hair and blue eyes, he wore thick rimmed glasses and was more on the pale side.

Adam was bundled up in a blue blanket with a yellow bonnet on his head sleeping in the photo.

They looked so happy.......

Adam took a deep breath, he stared down at the tombstone in front of him, his chest felt tight.

Mary Marie Kadmon

1963 - 1993

Joseph Adam Kadmon

1960 - 1993

Adam Steven Kadmon

1993 - Lost

Adam felt bile rise in his throat at the sight of his own name on a tombstone. Part of him wished he had of died with them, that way they could have still been together as a family.

He set the flowers down and sat in front of the stone, knees to his chest and arms holding them. "Hi mom, hi dad. It's me, Adam." Adam tried to smile but it wobbled until he frowned, his eyes wet. "This is fucking stupid, they can't hear me." He placed his phone with their photo on the tombstone, it didn't help like he thought it would.

His heart ached, tears fell down his cheeks.

What kind of people were they? What would his life be like if they lived? Who would he be? Would he have had siblings?

He likely wouldn't have met Lucifer that's for sure.

Adam put his face in his arms and cried silently, mourning for the family he would never have or know.

"Adam?" A hand came down on his shoulder making Adam jump. "Shit, sorry!"

Adam clenched his shirt, heart racing. "Damn it Luci, you scared the shit out of me." He needs to put a fucking bell on his husband.

Lucifer sat down beside him. "You've been here for nearly 30 minutes, I wanted to see how you were doing."

He's been sitting here crying that long? Fuck. Adam sniffed and sipped his face on his sleeve. "Sorry."

"Don't be, take all the time you need." Lucifer wrapped an arm around Adam's shoulders and pulled him close. No one was here, Adam wouldn't care. They both looked forward at the picture. "You look like her."

Adam hummed in agreement.

"Do you think they would have liked me?"

Adam thought about it for a moment and yeah, they probably would like Lucifer. You know, save for the murder charge that landed him in prison.

No one's perfect.

"She would probably like you right away."

Lucifer tilted his head. "And him?"

Adam smirked. "Probably have to give you a hard time just for fun, but yeah he'd like you."

"So like you then?"

Adam flicked his gaze up to his husband for a second before looking away again. "Maybe."

"I know they would have loved you Adam." Lucifer placed a kiss in Adams hair. "I wish I could have met them."

Adam leaned more into Lucifer. "Yeah, me too."

#adamsapple #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #spoilers #jailhouse love #angst

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gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot · 2 days

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First kiss in public

A litle (hah) something, stupid and unedited, I had to itch to write because of a chat with @nrdmssgs @sofasoap and @eenochian

Set in the future in the fic (yes, this is canon and will be included)

Till this moment they've never kissed in public. Only Price saw them kiss and it was a traumatic moment immediately before this during their rescue

It's very obvious they're together but they just don't suck face lol

His family.

Even after so long, Ghost still felt sometimes in awe when he found himself thinking about them as that.

His family.

Surrounded by laughter and happy chatter, sitting at the pub one Saturday night.

Yuri and Myléne sitting together, as close as they could be, with his arm around her shoulders, and sometimes whispering into each other’s ear. Sometimes even exchanging discreet kisses.

Johnny with Gabi sitting on his lap, sharing her cocktail after his beer was all but gone already, laughing the loudest.

Kyle and Diego sitting side by side, no doubt holding hands under the table. Gaz still had his right arm on a sling although his dislocated shoulder was so much better. Diego still looked awful with his face full of bruises, but the white flash of his pearly smile was as joyful as ever.

Price… his rock. His anchor. His heart clenched just thinking how close he had been to lose him. Now seeing him roaring with laughter with Nikolai, keeping Heather secured on his lap in spite of her protests about his mild injuries, it calmed his anxiety.

He could have lost him.

He could have lost both.

Freya, with Rudy. Ignoring the way Johnny still glared at him from time to time, even though he was more than okay with their relationship. All lovey dovey in spite of the way he was blushing, absolutely smitten with her and her bubbly smile.

Alejandro nudging Kyle’s side with his elbow, laughing at his Sergeant Major. Both of them had flown to help in the search, and two weeks later were still there, with the excuse of making sure everything was alright.

Farah nursing her orange juice, laughing at something Alex was trying to tell Laswell, while Kate looked like she was about to bail and go home, tired of dealing with drunks. But she stayed. Because they were her family too.

Two weeks after the all hands on deck call, and they were still there.

His family.

Nikolai, holding Olga close to his side, with one arm wrapped around her waist, and his free hand holding hers. Mirth in his eyes, but also fondness and that haunted look that had accompanied him the whole time the team had looked for Price and Riot. The haunted look that told him that he, too, thought all the time about what if.

What if they hadn’t found them.

What if they hadn’t found them on time.

What would they do without Price to steer them on the path.

What would they do without the ray of sun that was nestled against his side, giggling at one of Johnny’s stupid stories, her fingers interlocked with his while his free arm was firmly around her.

Ghost sighed, deeply, a low rumble inside his chest that made Christine look up at him, with her uneven smile and a questioning look in her blue eyes. And for the first time since they got them back, almost two weeks ago, Simon could shake Ghost off, and his face relaxed just slightly.

The skull balaclava was long forgotten on the table, after his fifth drink. In that moment, slightly buzzed by the alcohol, he didn’t care anymore about having his family see his face. All of them had seen it at one point or another.

Dark brown eyes searched her face, deliberately slow, waiting for the blush to appear when she felt the heat of his smoldering gaze. Her high cheekbones, still bruised. Her blue-gray eyes that still gave him chills. The smile that he had feared he’d never see again.

Simon didn’t even think about it. He didn’t stop to ponder, to wait for his usual reservation to kick in, for his aversion to public PDA to deter him.

He simply dragged her closer to his side, the hand that was on her shoulder reaching up to tilt her jaw up, and lowered his head onto hers until he covered her mouth with his, swallowing her surprised gasp with as much hunger as he drank her moans in bed.

A chorus of muffled gasps surrounded them when the rest of the gang realized what he was doing, but the only thing Simon focused in was on the way her fingers tangled in his hair and pulled him down to her, kissing him back just as hungrily.

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the desperation of not knowing if he’d get her and Price back alive. Maybe it was the secret yearn to seal the deal, to cry to the world that she was his and he was hers.

Simon almost chuckled when he heard Johnny cheering and loud clapping from who knew who, but he didn’t care. He only broke the kiss to allow Christine to breathe, their lips still touching, and smiled down at her. Sincerely. Happy.

And he had to drown laughter when her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him down closer so they would kiss again. He barely saw her flipping the bird at Johnny when the Scot joyfully called for them to get a private room.

His family.

He was home.

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calmasyoghurt · 3 days

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So, I saw that @alexiguessss posted some pride month prompts so why not do them? I will try to post one a day, but I won't be doing them in order. I will also be posting them to my ao3. Here we go.

June 1st. Promt 1, first crush.

A few days before Jan is supposed to start school, he is sure of exactly three things.

1. His parents know a lot.

2. If there is something his parents don't know, then God definitely does.

3. When you start school, childhood is over and the journey to knowing as much as his parents does, begins.

Jan is also aware of a few other things. Like how cool he would be if he got to be a rock star, or how one day he'll meet a nice girl to marry and have kids with. But Jan isn't sure if either of those things will ever happen.

When the big day finally comes, Jan enters the school building with a smile on his face. His new teacher welcomes him and tells him where to sit. A few moments later, another boy is seated next to him.

While the teacher waits for everyone to arrive and be seated, the two boys take the chance to get to know each other. Jan finds out the other boy's name is Mateo and that they live only a few streets away from each other. Mateo declares that they should be friends, and Jan barely has time to agree before the teacher starts talking to the class.

Jan does however have time to take a proper look at Mateo. He has blue-green eyes, light brown hair, and really long eyelashes. Later, when the two boys are walking home from school together, Jan finds out that the other has just started taking guitar lessons and has a kitten named Maja. Jan likes cats. He wants to know how to play the guitar, too.

As the school year goes on, Jan and Mateo become really good friends. Jan wants to spend all his free time with the other boy, and he's starting to think that maybe childhood isn't over just because he's a student now. Because with Mateo he can still play childish games. Jan gets to meet Maja the cat. Mateo teaches him a few chords on his guitar. Everything is good.

Until one day in March, when Jan knocks on Mateo's door, and his best friend opens it with tears in his eyes. He tells Jan that they're moving to Maribor in July. That they won't be starting second grade in the same school. Jan is tearing up too now. But he promises Mateo he'll write letters, he'll call, maybe he'll visit if it's possible. And July is ages away, they have plenty of time to play with each other before Mateo moves away.

By the time Jan has turned eleven, he and Mateo only talk on the phone once a month. Now, when he's a little older, Jan is also sure of three things. Three things he wasn't sure of before starting school.

1. His parents are smart, but there are things they don't know yet.

2. God loves all his children, no matter what the raisin of a priest at church says.

3. Mateo was the first person Jan ever had a crush on.

Jan is also aware of a few other things. He really wants to be a musician, and he is not going to find a nice girl to marry and have kids with.

#joker out #JO pride project #jan peteh

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livvyofthelake · 7 months

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ohhhhhh my god my lead actress's big brown eyes...... girl you're killing me......

#and my male lead is quite literally blonde with blue eyes it's ridiculous #he's ok tho. actually i did find out today he played clarient in marching band in hs #so that's a red flag but hey i just need him to act and he's been pretty great at it. red flags are allowed <3 #he also got us our other guy we needed for some small scenes. so he's been invaluable despite the serial killer eyes #in truth he actually looks lke a panda to me. there's nothing wrong with his serial killer blue eyes i'm being mean #sorry for being anti men who play clarient. in my defense i've known those guys and i have never met one that didn't annoy me a little #anyway. she has beautiful big brown eyes and he is there. and our other guy is beautifully tragic and doomed <3 #that was my criteria for casting him. i said 'he needs to look beautiful and tragic' and then we found him #he did great today. i don't know if he likes me but he showed up and he wore all the outfits i told him to wear so #actually i think i act weird around good looking men. i think it's because once a hot guy is around i get one notch lower on the hierarchy #and i'm usually up there. frankly. so i don't like being lowered...#i mean you guys will see what he looks like eventually i'm gonna post the link to the film when it's done and i'm graduated #but he's Hot. i was scared of him for a moment. he was wearing sunglasses. and then i made him walk up a bigass hill #and then i made him be in vaguely homoerotic pictures. his words. he didn't seem to mind there were jokes had. jests even #and tomorrow at 11am im gonna make him stand on a bed and put stars on a wall while yelling at him to smile and look pretty #and well. that's awesome. heirarchy is restored once we all remember that i'm the guy in charge......#anyway. i had an eventful day. 8am to now. i gotta go to sleep girls.#unfortunately that's not happening soon due to i've committed myself to reviewing today's footage. ok

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witchywithwhiskey · 26 days

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How about Bucky and “what are you going to do? punish me?”

Maybe we want something from our favorite super solider but can’t say the words and try to provoke him instead.

tempting fate in the park

pairing: father's business rival CEO!bucky barnes x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, fingering (f receiving), handjob, come play, come marking, public play, little bit of exhibitionism, dirty talk, light degradation, praise kink, pet names (darling), unspecified age gap, fluffy ending

word count: 4,000ish

a/n: i realized far too late that i didn't incorporate your premise at all, so sorry about that!!! also for everyone else, this is the fic where i was looking for a trope like 'dad's best friend'. i ended up going with 'dad's business rival' as a trope because it gave me a fun dynamic to play with!! hope y'all enjoy!! ♡♡

tempting fate on the terrace (part 2)

It was a beautiful spring afternoon and you were taking a slow, meandering stroll through Central Park, a sly smile on your face as you delighted in the knowledge that you had a secret. Beneath your flirty little sundress—the one you’d worn because the day was bright and warm and gorgeous—you were as bare as the day you were born.

The hem of your dress fluttered around your thighs, the cool breeze wafting through the park teasing you with the prospect of flashing some unsuspecting stranger with a salacious view of your most intimate place. Just the thought of that news getting back to your powerful CEO father had your smirk deepening. After all, it was fun to tempt fate.

But then, your afternoon took a fascinating turn when you spotted a familiar face walking down the same path as you, going in the opposite direction: Mr. James Buchanan Barnes—Bucky to his friends.

But you weren’t his friend, you were the daughter of his business rival. And it was a bitter rivalry.

You’d heard your father rage about Bucky on a number of occasions—cursing out the younger CEO for stealing some business or other from him. You were certain it didn’t help that Bucky was at least 10 years younger than your father, making his slights cut all the more.

Still, that didn’t stop your father from inviting Bucky to all his charity events and galas, always pretending to make nice with the younger CEO before whispering cutting remarks behind his back. It all seemed so ridiculous to you, but you didn’t mind the moments you were able to chat with Bucky.

He was handsome, after all—and single, if the rumors amongst New York City’s elite were to be believed. Plus, Bucky had an impish sort of charm that appealed to you, and you often wondered if perhaps he might be the man of your dreams, if only he wasn’t your father’s business rival.

But your father was nowhere near Central Park on that warm spring afternoon, and as you strolled casually down the path, your eyes watched Bucky closely as he walked in your direction. You didn’t think he’d noticed you yet, so you took the moment to appreciate the older man’s attractiveness.

His brown hair was swept back from his handsome face and styled in such a way that begged to have someone sink their fingers into his soft locks—and you wanted desperately to be that person. Trailing your gaze down his broad and tall body, you couldn’t help but think that Bucky looked distinguished, even with his slightly scruffy beard, and polished in a gray t-shirt, dark jacket and dark slacks.

Your eyes were only just wandering back to Bucky’s face when they snagged on his bright blue gaze. A devilish smirk curled Bucky’s soft lips and you knew you’d been caught gawking at the older man. Heat flamed in your cheeks—and other parts of your body—as Bucky approached you. But you refused to be embarrassed, so you lifted your chin and fixed a playful smile on your face, waiting for Bucky to come to you.

He stopped a polite distance away and greeted you with a nod of his head, his blue eyes sparkling and the edges of his mouth curved in a smirk. You did your best not to appear flustered as you exchanged pleasantries, noting how Bucky kept his eyes fixed respectfully on your face. That is, until he didn’t.

When the conversation lulled, Bucky’s gaze drifted down your body, taking in the way your dress hugged your curves, the neckline dipping low on your chest and the hem riding high on your thigh. The soft cotton fabric was molded to your body in a way that you knew would be obscene if the cut of the dress wasn’t so sweetly innocent. Your body warmed in response to Bucky’s attention and you swayed closer to the older man.

“That’s a pretty dress ya got on, darling,” Bucky rumbled, his voice going deliciously low, luring you in closer so you could hear him.

Your feet shuffled forward of their own accord and you watched intently while he finished his perusal of your body with a lingering look at your plush thighs. When Bucky’s gaze finally lifted back to yours, his blue eyes were sparkling in the bright spring sunshine, and he had a pleased smile on his handsome face.

“Why don’t you give me a twirl,” Bucky suggested, some of that impish charm in his tone. “Let me see how pretty it looks from every angle.”

You were about to do as Bucky said, but then you remembered what was beneath your dress—or, rather, what wasn’t beneath it. Heat rose to your cheeks and your gaze darted around, taking in the sheer amount of people who were in Central Park in the middle of a weekday afternoon. There were a lot of strangers who’d be treated to a view of your pussy if you twirled for Bucky.

It was one thing to go for a walk while not wearing any panties beneath your dress. That was tempting fate and hoping the springtime breeze didn’t make a spectacle of your nakedness. But it was another thing entirely to actually, purposefully, flash the busy city park just to give your father’s business rival what he wanted.

Steeling yourself, you returned your gaze to Bucky. “I don’t think that’s the best idea, Mr. Barnes,” you murmured in what you hoped was a playful conspiratorial voice. You lifted the corners of your mouth in a smirk that hopefully looked more mysterious than nervous, and hid how much your heart was racing.

Bucky seemed intrigued by your refusal and he shifted forward, his eyes dragging slowly down your body as if he was looking for the reason you’d said no. When he couldn’t find anything amiss, he lifted his gaze back to yours.

“What’s the matter, darling,” he asked in a warmly teasing voice. “You worried it might get back to your father that you flashed a peek of your panties in the park?” There was a challenge in his gaze, one you were all too happy to meet, even as your body heated with desire.

“Why, of course not, Mr. Barnes,” you murmured breathily, playing up the innocence in your voice, trying to make yourself sound more sultry. Leaning in, you pressed a hand to his broad chest and pretended you were confiding in him, your head tilting back to hold his gaze. “I’m worried I’d flash much more than my panties if I twirled around in my dress.”

You felt Bucky’s stiffen beneath your fingertips and delighted in the way you felt him suck in a sharp breath, sizzles of desire zinging through your body and making you feel like you’d swallowed a whole bottle of champagne. Bucky’s eyes darkened as they roved over your face, like he was trying to discern whether you were telling the truth.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, darling?” he rumbled, his voice low, sending a deliciously dangerous shiver down your spine.

It was difficult to keep the innocent look on your face, but you managed, even if the corners of your mouth fluttered with the smirk you wanted to set loose. Instead of answering Bucky’s question, you cocked your head to the side, pretending you didn’t understand what he was asking.

“Are you telling me you’re not wearing panties?” he asked, barely leashed emotion in his voice. It was deep and dark and you thought it might be anger, especially when he continued on in a voice that was as rough as gravel. “In the middle of a busy park, where anyone could look up your skirt—or touch you?”

A snort left you before you could hold it back. You couldn’t help it, Bucky’s words sounded like a chastisement, which was silly because you were a grown woman and you knew the risks of going out without panties on. So you gave him the bratty response you felt his words deserved.

“What are you going to do? Punish me?” you snarked, giving him a sweetly patronizing smile.

But it seemed you judged Bucky wrong because he only pressed closer to you, looming above you, a wicked smirk spreading across his face.

“Darling, I’m not your daddy, I’m not gonna punish you,” he rumbled, holding your gaze captive while his fingers brushed against your though, trailing up under your skirt ever so slightly. He watched your chest heave as your breath hitched in your throat and slipped his hand between your legs, teasing the inside of your thighs beneath your skirt. “But you might have to worry about a public indecency charge given what I’m gonna do with you.”

“What’re you gonna do with me, Mr. Barnes?” you asked, unable to catch your breath for all the warmth and riotous sensation flooding your body.

Bucky gripped your chin with his other hand, holding you still so all you could do was stare into his sparkling blue eyes. “I’m gonna do whatever I damn well please, darling,” he said in a low, firm voice. Then he ducked down and pressed a hot kiss to your lips that felt like you were sealing a deal with the devil.

Before you could even hope to catch your breath, Bucky had wrapped one arm around your waist and the other around your upper arm, walking you further into the park, keeping his pace quick. Your feet stumbled along with him, and you wondered dazedly what exactly he was going to do with you.

It wasn’t long before Bucky had led you into one of the more wooded areas of the park, finding a path that was deserted before he looked both ways and tugged you into the trees. He pulled you deep enough into the foliage that you were obscured from view of anyone on the path, then turned to you with a look of greedy hunger on his handsome face.

Pressing you up against a tree, Bucky’s mouth descended on yours and he set about devouring you.

His lips were soft, but unyielding, and possessive in the way they plundered your mouth, his hands just as demanding, tugging down the front of your dress beneath your tits so they were pushed up in an offering to your father’s business rival. Bucky accepted them eagerly, groping your soft flesh and plucking at your nipples until you gasped loudly into his mouth.

“Shh, darling,” Bucky muttered with a teasing smirk, “you’re gonna have to be quieter than that.” His free hand wrapped around your throat and pinned you to the tree, a wordless threat in the loose way he held you, but didn’t choke you. Yet.

It made a delicious heat flare through your body, and again, you rose to the challenge in his words. Lifting your chin, you looked Bucky dead in the eye and murmured, “Make me, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened and his fingers squeezed a little tighter around your throat, digging into the sides and making your heart race as you hiccuped a gasp of desire.

“You’re such a filthy girl, darling,” Bucky rumbled, pressing a kiss to the apple of your cheek before dragging his mouth to your ear. “Makes me so fucking hard.” His hips bucked against yours and you felt the truth of his words.

Trailing your fingers down Bucky’s chest, you teased along the hem of his pants, wanting desperately to take him into your hand, but you paused. Catching Bucky’s eye, you let him see the wordless question in your eyes. It was only when he nodded that you eagerly unbuttoned and unzipped his fly, reaching inside and wrapping your hand around Bucky’s cock.

“So big,” you whispered wondrously, stroking his thick cock in your hand. You flicked your wrist, squeezing the tip and watched as Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut, the older man letting out a restrained groan at the feeling of you jerking him off. “Now who needs to be quiet, Mr. Barnes,” you teased, smirking up at him.

That had Bucky’s eyes snapping open and in the next breath his hand slipped between your legs, trailing up your thighs until his fingers brushed against your bare pussy. You were practically dripping for him, and you were certain he could feel it from the way his blue eyes darkened, pupils blowing wide with desire as he cursed.

“Fuck, you really aren’t wearing panties,” he bit out on a low groan, a little bit of surprise in his tone. Still, he seemed pleased by the revelation. His fingers dipped into your slit, his eyes watching your lips part in a soft moan while he teased your hole until your knees trembled beneath you. His expression shifted to one of affection, even as he rumbled, “You’re trouble, darling, d’you know that?”

Heat and pleasure swirled through your body so furiously, you were afraid you might collapse to your knees, even with Bucky’s hand wrapped around your throat and his other teasing your soaking wet folds, but you managed to shrug nonchalantly. “I’m only trouble if I get caught,” you replied blithely, giving Bucky a mischievous smile.

He chuckled, the sound low and raspy and devolving into a groan when you stroked his cock harder, your fist gripping him firmly. He gave you a heated look, then pushed two fingers into your tight hole and choked you at the same moment. It was a good thing he did, because his hand cut off the loud moan that would’ve spilled from your lips at the delicious intrusion of his fingers.

“Let’s make sure we don’t get caught then, darling,” he rumbled, fucking you with his fingers, his palm slapping quietly against your clit as he set a fast, hard rhythm. Pleasure spun through your mind, so sharp and delicious it made you struggle to keep up with the older man, your fist working his cock at the same furious pace he set.

All the while, Bucky held your gaze captive with his own, his eyes every so often drifting down to watch the way your chest heaved with panting breaths, your tits bouncing out of the confines of your dress, or the way your lips were parted as you tried to get enough oxygen to your lungs through his squeezing hand.

You, too, watched your father’s business rival come undone right before your eyes. His handsome face was flushed, his cheeks pink above his beard, his blue eyes darkening even further, and his soft mouth twisting in a snarl of pleasure. When his hips began thrusting into your hand, you suspected he was close, which he confirmed with his heated question.

“Where d’you want me to come?” Bucky ground out through clenched teeth, his hand loosening around your neck to let you speak. But he didn’t stop pounding into your cunt with his fingers and it was difficult to think. You were halfway lost to pleasure, which was your only excuse for the answer that slipped from your mouth.

“Come on my pussy, sir—please,” you begged, your voice husky and as quiet as you could manage with the way a pleasured cry was building in your chest. Rucking up your dress with your free hand, you stared into Bucky’s eyes as you murmured, “Mark me with your come.”

Bucky choked off the moan that threatened to fall from his lips, shoving his fingers deep in your cunt and pressing against a spot that had you seeing stars. Pleasure coiled tight in your core, but when he ground his palm against your clit, you were lost to him.

Your entire being shattered apart as you came on his hand, your mouth dropping open and your body shaking from overwhelming sensation. Thankfully, Bucky choked you hard enough to silence the scream of pleasure that wanted to break free, the restriction of air making you feel the pleasure of your release more acutely.

It was only when darkness began to creep into the edges of your vision and the waves of your orgasm began to abate, that Bucky loosened his hold on you. His hand fell away from your throat entirely and he kissed you fiercely, his lips praising you wordlessly.

You were so distracted by his mouth that it took you a moment to realize his hand had dropped from your throat to wrap around yours. He was guided your fingers up and down his cock, helping you stroke him fast and firm.

Ending the kiss with a low gasp, Bucky pressed his forehead to yours and looked down between your bodies to where he was using your hand to jerk his cock, like your fist was his own personal fleshlight. The sight was so erotic, your pussy fluttered around Bucky’s fingers, which were still inside you.

“Ya want me to come on your pussy, darling?” Bucky huffed, his chest heaving with heavy breaths even as he managed a teasing tone. “Want your daddy’s biggest business rival to mark your cunt with my seed, huh?”

“Yes, sir, please,” you begged in a breathy voice, wanting nothing more in that moment. You didn’t know where the desire came from, but you didn’t question it—only gave into it.

“Gonna make a mess of you, darling,” Bucky rumbled in warning, though his words only succeeded in turning you on again. Your pussy clenched around him again, making him huff a laugh even as he went on. “You’re gonna be dripping with my come for the rest of the afternoon.”

God help you, but you wanted it. You wanted to feel his come splash against your soft skin, you wanted the dirty, delicious knowledge that you were covered in his come beneath your dress while no one was the wiser. You wanted it so badly that you begged again, “Please, Mr. Barnes, please come on my pussy—I want it.”

Bucky closed his eyes like he was in pain, like your words were his undoing, and then he captured your lips, using your mouth to muffle his sounds of pleasure as he came. You felt the warm ropes of Bucky’s come spray against your mound and lower belly, rolling down your body. You kissed Bucky back fiercely, swallowing down every grunt and groan he uttered while he unleashed himself.

When he finally finished, he pulled away and you both looked down your body, watching where Bucky’s come caught in his hand cupping your pussy. He used his palm to rub his seed into your skin, making your cunt even messier than before. Both of you moaned at the sight, your body clenching tight a the debauchery of the moment.

“Fuck, darling, I can feel the way your pussy’s squeezing me,” Bucky muttered, looking up and catching your eye, giving you a charmingly devilish grin. “Makes me think you want me to dump my next load deep in your cunt.”

Your head fell back against the tree behind you and you let out a low, filthy moan of delight, making Bucky’s eyes darken again. But before either of you could say anything more—before you could beg your father’s business rival to come deep in your pussy—the sounds of people walking by on the park trail not too far from where you stood broke through your private moment.

Realizing the precariousness of your situation, Bucky quickly, but gently, eased his hand from your pussy and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his fingers clean. You were too dazed from pleasure to move yet, but when he swiped it against your belly, cleaning his seed off your skin, you whimpered in disappointment.

“Shh, darling, I just wanna get us out of the park without getting that public indecency charge,” Bucky murmured comfortingly, pressing a kiss to your temple that made you smile and stop your protests.

He pocketed the dirtied handkerchief and tucked his cock back into his pants, then helped you fix your dress. Easing you away from the tree, Bucky shed his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders to hide the scratches and indents from the bark.

You leaned heavily into Bucky’s side as he walked you back through the park toward the entrance near which you’d first spotted him. It was only when Bucky guided you to the passenger door of a nice looking car that you found your voice again.

“Where are we going, Mr. Barnes?” you asked, a little teasing tone in your voice. When you looked up into Bucky’s handsome face, you wore an impish smirk, hoping he wasn’t done with you yet.

Bucky pushed you gently back against the side of his car, his hands on your hips beneath his jacket and his body looming over yours. A shiver of delight raced down your spine and you reached up, carding your fingers through his soft brown hair like you’d wanted to when you first saw him. Bucky turned his head and kissed the inside of your wrist before pinning you with his intense gaze.

“I’m taking you back to my place, darling,” Bucky murmured softly, a smile on his lips that turned amused. “Did you think a little fooling around in the park was all I wanted?”

You squirmed in his arms, feeling young and insecure all of a sudden under the weight of the older man’s fierce stare. Dropping your gaze to his beard, you avoided his eye as you spoke.

“I don’t know what you want, Mr. Barnes,” you confessed, realizing only after the words fell from your lips that you meant more than just what Bucky planned to do with you that day. Feelings rushed through your body, your heart pounding in your chest and you felt shy in front of Bucky for the first time.

But he seemed to know exactly how to handle your sudden change of mood. Curling a finger under your chin, he tilted your face up to look at him. His blue eyes were sparkling with a warm affection that made you settle a little.

“I want everything you’re willing to give me,” he rumbled in a gentle voice before ducking down and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. When he broke the kiss, he didn’t pull back far, keeping his face close to yours. “And please, call me Jamie,” he murmured, a tenor of vulnerability in his tone that surprised you.

You smiled against his mouth, finding it easier to tease him again. “I thought all your friends called you Bucky,” you whispered, your body lighting up at his continued closeness. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed your chest to his, enjoying the way your nipples dragged against his t-shirt.

Bucky chuckled and you could feel the sound reverberate in your chest, sending heat curling through your body. “Darling,” he said, his tone affectionately teasing. “You’re much more than a friend, wouldn’t you say?”

At that, you managed a cheeky smile, leaning back to let him see your happy expression. “Yeah, I would,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again. That time, it was your turn to devour his mouth, enjoying the taste and feel of him as you made out against his car.

When you finally pulled away, it was with a sigh of, “Jamie.”

With a pleased smile on his face, Bucky helped you into his car, his hand immediately settling possessively on your thigh once he’d sat in the driver’s seat. You relaxed into the soft leather seat, unable to think of anything else except how content you were with the turn your spring afternoon had taken.

Perhaps you’d been tempting fate by walking around the park without anything on under your dress. But it seemed fate had led you straight into the arms of Bucky, so you couldn’t feel even a little bit remorseful for your reckless behavior.

Especially not when Bucky squeezed your thigh and flashed you a charming smile that had you thinking your father’s business rival might just turn out to be the man of your dreams after all.

tempting fate on the terrace (part 2)

#witchywithwhiskey's springtime fun #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan characters #witchywithwhiskeywork #sgtnightwolfinthetardis

1K notes · View notes

itadorey · 8 months

Text

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢

pairing: geto suguru x f!reader summary: moments between you and geto, and how you inevitably ended up in his bed. genre: smut, college au, ends in fluff, geto is whipped tbh notes/warnings: mdni, vaginal sex, squirting, creampie, praise kink!, mentions of womanizer gojo bc it makes me giggle, somewhat flirty geto, flirty gojo, shoko smokes, mentions of alcohol, first time posting smut pls be nice it's mid at best. rushed and barely edited!! yes this is a repost oops. wc: ~4.9k

if someone had told you five months ago that you would eventually end up in geto suguru's bed, you would've laughed in their face.

the names geto suguru and gojo satoru were notorious across your campus, and yet you had never interacted with them before you met ieiri shoko. gojo satoru was known for his flirtatious tendencies, and with a simple smile and a flash of his bright, blue eyes he was able to get most people fall for him. he had no shortage of admirers or flings, and he took great pride in the fact that none of his short-lived romances had ever ended badly.

geto suguru, on the other hand, had rarely been seen pursuing anyone. there were rumors, of course, of the lucky individuals that had gotten to spend the night with him, but geto had never taken it upon himself to confirm or deny any of them.

you couldn't care less about either one of their love lives, but no matter what classes you took and no matter who you sat next to, they always became a topic of conversation.

"so, are you going?"

you looked up from your notes to see your seatmate— mika, you think her name was— looking at you curiously. you gave her a puzzled look, earning an exasperated one in return before she leaned in.

"to the party tonight?" she whispered conspiratorially. "you know, the one gojo and geto are hosting?"

"no," you replied, turning back to your notes in hopes of ending the conversation. the truth was that you were attending, you were just hoping to get in, get tipsy, and leave before anything interesting could happen. in addition to being attractive, gojo satoru was also loaded, and that usually meant that he supplied all the alcohol at his parties without demanding some sort of payment from anyone who attended. as a broke college student, who were you to turn down free alcohol?

"you should," mika continued, a soft giggle leaving her lips as she jotted down some notes. "i heard geto will actually be there this time. something about it being in his honor."

your nose scrunched at her soft sigh, and she gave you a look of disbelief when you remained unimpressed with her news.

"you know, he barely shows up to these things, even though he lives there," she pressed on, biting her lip as she giggles.

"look," you said, not unkindly. "i'm gonna be honest with you; i could not care less about either one of them."

mika huffed before turning away, and you sighed in relief when she made no effort to continue the conversation. you looked away when you hear a snort coming from your left, and you raised your gaze to meet a pair of tired, brown eyes.

"not a fan of gojo and geto?" the girl asked, earning an amused laugh from you.

"i wouldn't know," you replied truthfully, shrugging casually. "never met 'em."

you watched as the girl barked out a laugh at your response, holding out a hand for you to shake. "i like you. i'm ieiri shoko."

you gave her your name as you shook her hand, your conversation coming to an abrupt end when your professor walked in. you smiled to yourself when the lecture eventually ended, watching as mika hurried out of class after giving you an unimpressed look.

"so, are you really not going to the party?" shoko asked, falling into step with you as you left the building. you watched as she pulled out a pack of cigarettes, placing one between her lips before offering one to you. you shook you head lightly as she patted her pants pockets. "you wouldn't happen to have a lighter, would you?"

"of course i'm going," you replied, rummaging through your backpack for your lighter. you handed it to her with a smirk, earning a raised eyebrow in return as she lights the stick between her lips. "i'd be an idiot not to. i just wanted mika to stop talking."

"i guess i'll see you there," shoko mused, placing your lighter back into the palm of your hand as you came to a crosswalk. "look for me when you get there, yeah? you seem like good company."

you nodded your head as she waved, walking off in the opposite direction you were headed toward. you made it through the rest of your day without incident, making sure to grab an early dinner before taking a quick shower and lying down.

a quick glance at your clock let you know that it was nearing eight, and you sighed loudly before standing up and walking over to your closet to pick out your outfit. you took your time getting ready, music blasting as you finally slipped on your shoes and ordered a ride.

by the time you arrived at the party, it was in full swing. you could feel the bass thumping from where you stood on the sidewalk, and you quickly made your way to the front door in an attempt to escape form the cold wind.

you made a beeline towards the kitchen, resolving to get a drink first before looking for shoko. you hummed along to the song that was playing as you grabbed a cheap plastic cup, pouring yourself whatever what in the bottle closest to you. you slowly made your way out of the kitchen, raising the cup to your lips before catching sight of mika. you jolted lightly, placing your cup on the nearest table when you saw her turn your way before you ducked into a hallway.

a quiet grunt left your lips when you collided against something hard, and you felt yourself tilting backwards before a strong set of hands landed on your waist to steady you.

"woah there, are you okay?"

you glanced up to see geto suguru standing in front of you, an amused smile on his face as he studied you. you shot another glance into the main room, sighing in relief when you realized mika was no longer visible.

"yeah," you mumbled, straightening up and facing geto once more. "i'm good."

it was silent for a few seconds as geto followed your previous line of sight, his hands still resting comfortably on your waist. he turned back when you tapped his shoulder awkwardly, and you were met with the same amused smile still present on his face. he hummed in acknowledgement, looking down at you curiously as you leaned back slightly.

"you can let go now."

"my apologies," geto replied smoothly, his hands lingering for a few seconds before he pulled away. "just wanted to make sure you were okay. i'm—"

"i see you've met geto."

you peeked behind geto's broad frame to see shoko leaning against the wall across from you, and you watched as a look of mild surprise crossed geto's face.

"you two know each other?" he asked, earning nods from the two of you in return. the surprise on his face melted away into a charming smile, and he held his hand out for you to shake. "the pleasure is all mine."

you shook his hand lightly, nodding at him before turning back to shoko. you handed her your lighter wordlessly, and she gave you a grin before beckoning for you to follow her. the two of you exited out the back door, making your way towards the bordering fence as geto followed.

"i haven't seen you around before," geto commented casually, earning a suspicious look from shoko as he attempted to make conversation with you. he gave her a lopsided smile, tilting his head towards you briefly as shoko scoffed at him.

"don't go out much," you mumbled, giving him a dull look at you shrugged.

"why? overprotective boyfriend?" geto asked, earning an amused look from you at his boldness. you chuckled lightly, shaking your head as you crossed your arms.

"more like an overly comfy bed," you retorted, watching as he nodded at your words.

"i'm sure mine is comfier. i can show you, if you'd like," he responded slyly, a handsome smile on his face as he leaned in slightly.

"nah, i'm good."

geto blinked once, twice, three times at your words, staring at you in confusion as shoko's laughter rang in his head.

"what?" he asked dumbly, straightening up when shoko clapped him on the shoulder.

"i'm good," you repeated, giving him a small smile. "thanks for the offer but i'm here for the booze, not the guys."

"i've never seen this happen before," shoko breathed, stomping out her cigarette as her eyes lit up. "oh my god, i have to find satoru."

you watched shoko as she darted away, geto's eyes still on you as he composed himself. he shoved his hands into his pockets before backing away, still reeling from your rejection as you gave him one last look.

"i'm gonna go look for shoko," you mumbled, giving him a small wave before following after her. geto watched as you moved further and further away, his curiosity peaking as he waited for you to turn back and send him one last look. it never came, and he felt his stomach twist in disappointment.

ii.

"wanna grab lunch?" shoko asked, packing her stuff up as class ended. you nodded wordlessly, zipping your backpack up before slinging it over your shoulder.

"what did you have in mind?" you asked, heading towards the door.

"what about onigiri?"

you and shoko looked up to see geto by the door, his eyes on you as gojo stood beside him waving enthusiastically. a defeated sigh escaped shoko's mouth, and she hooked her arm with yours as she pulled you towards the two boys.

"only if you pay," shoko mumbled, not even having the energy to argue against geto. he gave her an innocent smile as gojo slung an arm over shoko's shoulders, effectively pulling her away from you as he shot you a curious gaze.

"have we met before? you look familiar," gojo asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at you over his sunglasses. you opened your mouth to respond, stopping when he suddenly snapped his fingers. "i know! i've seen you in my dreams."

a surprised laugh left your lips as shoko groaned, and you grinned at gojo as you started walking.

"i totally haven't heard that one before," you commented, saying your name as gojo laughed.

"gojo satoru, but you can call me any time," he said, winking at you as you shook your head with a smile. you missed the way gojo stuck his tongue out at geto.

"don't get your hopes up," you replied, earning an exaggerated pout from gojo. you looked to your side when geto fell into step next to you, giving him a friendly nod as the two of you followed after gojo and shoko. you snorted as you noticed shoko's bored look, the occasional hum coming from her lips as gojo talked her ear off.

"how was class?"

you hummed when you heard geto speak, turning to look at him as he repeated his question.

"your class," he said quietly, glancing at you before turning back to look at his friends. "how was it?"

"it went well," you responded, eyeing him for a few seconds before following his gaze. "a little confusing, but shoko is crazy smart."

"she wants to be a doctor, y'know," geto said softly, a proud smile tugging at his lips. you glanced at him briefly, your eyes softening at the look on his face. "she's the smartest one out of all of us."

"i'm sure she'll be the best doctor," you said honestly. "if she ever quits smoking."

geto laughed at your comment, nodding in agreement as you came to a stop. you joined shoko at a table, nodding absentmindedly as gojo announced that he and geto would go grab the food.

"so?" shoko asked as soon as they were out of sight.

"so what?" you questioned, giving her a confused look.

"now that you've met geto and gojo," shoko began, waving a hand in the direction they had disappeared. "are you a fan?"

"they're not the worst," you admitted, receiving an amused hum in return. "they're huge flirts, but they're okay once you get past that."

shoko nodded in satisfaction just at the two boys reappeared, sliding into the empty seats next to you. you listened closely as gojo rattled off the different kinds they had gotten. you perked up when you heard your favorite ingredient, and you shyly asked if you could have that one.

gojo gave you a funny look before turning to shoko, mumbling something to her as geto held his hand out, the onigiri in hand. you thanked him with a smile, the four of you eating silently as you basked in the sun.

the silence was broken when gojo's phone went off, and his eyes widened briefly before he scarfed down the rest of his food and stood up.

"well we have to get to class," he proclaimed, tugging geto out of his seat before walking away. he paused briefly, sending you one last smile before waving. "it was nice to meet you! we should do this again, but it should just be me and you next time."

you rolled your eyes at his words, briefly catching the hard look on geto's face as you waved them off and turned back to look at shoko. she had the same funny look on her face that gojo did earlier as she looked at the two boys, humming thoughtfully before turning to you.

"you know, that's geto's favorite filling too," she commented, motioning towards your discarded wrapper with a tilt of her head. your eyebrows raised slightly, missing the insinuation behind her words as she sighed. "he always gets the same filling and refuses to eat anything else. i didn't think he'd actually give it to you."

you remained quiet after her statement, picking up the trash before tossing it into the bin next to your table. "there's a first time for everything, i guess."

"who knows," shoko mused, giving you a playful look as she stood up. "maybe he likes you."

iii.

shoko quickly became a constant in your life, and with her came gojo and geto.

"we're a package deal!" gojo had said when you made a comment about seeing them every single day. "you either get all of us, or none of us."

you couldn't find it in yourself to complain, especially not when the three of them turned out to be good friends. once you got used to the flirting, gojo was kind and funny, always knowing how to cheer you up. shoko was as blunt and honest as ever, and with her help, you were able to raise your grade in the classes the two of you shared.

geto was a different story. unlike gojo, he had never flirted with you after that night at the party, and you couldn't help but feel a little disappointed about it as you spent more time with him.

no one knew how, but you and geto quickly became study buddies. he was more serious than gojo, helping you stay focused, but less strict than shoko, who liked to use tough love to help you retain information. the two of you spent many afternoons at the library, sometimes joined by shoko or gojo, but mostly alone.

you quickly learned that geto was smart, almost frighteningly so, and he had a natural talent for teaching. his voice was soft and pleasant, his tone patient as you asked him to explain concepts you couldn't quite grasp. your study sessions usually ended in dinners together, grabbing whatever you could get from the university's food court.

he was also caring, always making sure to walk you home if your studying ran late. this often resulted in teasing looks from gojo, a pout on his face as he made kissy noises whenever the two of you would leave him behind. he always made sure you walked on the inner side of the sidewalk and he wouldn't leave you alone until he was sure your door was locked, and as the days dragged on, you found yourself becoming more and more attracted to geto suguru.

"you don't get it!" you complained, flopping onto your bed as shoko flipped through a magazine. "he's so— ugh."

"so ugh?" shoko repeated teasingly, watching as you tilted your head back to look at her.

"shoko!" you whined, throwing an arm over your eyes as you huffed. "i thought he was just a flirt. i didn't know he was this charming."

"this is hilarious," shoko commented, ignoring your glare. "remember when you turned him down?"

"he just wanted to hook up," you murmured, sighing softly before sitting up. "now that i've gotten to know him, i'm thinking i should've said yes when i had the chance."

"and who says you don't have a chance now?"

"he doesn't flirt with me!" you exclaim. when you see shoko raise her eyebrow, you elaborate. "he was flirting that night at the party because he was interested. he doesn't say anything that even remotely implies his interest in me anymore. the only one who flirts is gojo!"

"oh, geto definitely has an interest," shoko muttered, earning a curious glance from you. "look, he gives you his favorite foods, tutors you, and even walks you home. i've never seen him do that for anyone else. he wont even tutor satoru! and that's his best friend. if anything, you caught his interest when you turned him down."

shoko's eyes widened in panic when you pouted sadly, your expression falling as you took in her words.

"so he's only interested in me because i'm a challenge?" you asked quietly, earning a frustrated sigh from shoko.

"yes," she answered, getting a sad look from you. "but not in the way you think. he's never had anyone turn him down before you. and then he got to know you and he liked you. i don't think he wants to 'just hook up with you'. he wants to be with you."

"but what if—"

"trust me on this," shoko interrupted. you bit your lip hesitantly before nodding your head. "i think you should start the flirting. if he sees you're interested, then he'll reciprocate. i'm sure of it."

iv.

you felt a vague sense of deja vu as you stepped into gojo and geto's shared house once again, loud music playing as you weaved your way through the crowd.

you were on high alert as you looked for shoko, yet you still jumped when you felt a heavy arm wrap around your shoulders.

"hey!" gojo shouted, leaning in close to make sure you heard him over the loud music. "when did you get here?"

"a minute ago," you responded flatly, the faint smell of alcohol filling your nostrils as gojo hugged you. he giggled softly and you rolled your eyes with a smile, knowing he was probably already tipsy.

"who are you looking for?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows as he gave you a sultry look. "suguru?"

"no!" you denied, feeling your cheeks grow warm at the name. you averted your gaze, missing the way gojo's smile grew at your reaction. he guided you through the crowd and into the kitchen, coming to a stop when you saw shoko and geto leaning against the fridge.

"look who i found!" gojo proclaimed, pushing you in front of shoko and geto. shoko crowed your name with a smile, and you smiled back at her before glancing at geto. you froze slightly when you saw the way his eyes were trailing over your figure, taking in your outfit before his eyes settled on your face. there was a lazy smirk on his face as he nodded his head at you.

"hey," he greeted, his normal volume almost quiet in the loud room.

"hi," you replied, earning a groan from shoko. she walked forward, grasping gojo's arm before tugging him away.

"we're going outside," she announced, frowning when a noise of protest left gojo's lips. she flicked his forehead before glancing at you and geto, and a look of understanding fell across his face before he shut his mouth and followed after her without hesitation.

"you know," geto started, sighing as gojo disappears from sight. "something tells me they're not going outside."

"i feel compelled to agree," you grumbled, earning a chuckle from geto.

"i didn't think you were gonna come," he commented casually, turning to face you as you grabbed a bottle of water.

"oh you know," you said, shrugging half-heartedly as you took a sip. geto's eyes focused on your lips. "i go out occasionally."

"occasionally? why? got an overprotective boyfriend or something?" geto asked, his tone teasing as he repeats the same words he spoke when you first met. you grinned in response, putting your water bottle down on the counter as you crept closer to him.

"no, more like an overly comfy bed," you responded, your heart racing when he leaned down.

"i'm sure mine is comfier. i can show you, if you'd like."

"i would," you said, biting your lip when geto’s eyes widened. he paused briefly before slipping his hand into yours, pulling you out of the kitchen.

neither one of you noticed the way gojo and shoko exchanged a smug look as he led you upstairs.

all of those previous interactions with geto suguru culminated into the position you find yourself in now: in his bed.

a gasp leaves your lips as geto's hands trail underneath your shirt, pulling the fabric up and over your head with one hand as he fondles your breast with the other.

your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as you give him a bruising kiss, feeling his hands slip behind your back to unhook your bra. a hiss leaves your lips as the cool air hits your nipples, and he immediately takes one into his mouth, warm tongue laving over your hardened nipple as you moan.

your hands tug at his shirt, and he separates himself from you briefly to take it off and toss it off to the side, his fingers immediately going down to his belt to undo it. your own hands tug at your pants, pulling your underwear along with it as you kick them off the bed.

geto freezes when he sees you sprawled on his bed, and he licks his lips before reaching our and grabbing your thighs, pulling you flush against his own before dipping a finger in between your folds.

"so wet and i haven't even touched you," he murmurs, enjoying the way you squirm at his touch. "all this for me?"

"yeah," you breathe, biting your lips when you notice geto's eyes darken. "all for you. i need you, geto."

"suguru," he corrects, fingers swirling around your clit as you gasp. "say it."

"need you, suguru," you whimper, watching him with rapt attention as he pumps himself a few times.

"are you sure?" he asks, watching the way you squeeze your eyes shut when the head of his cock brushes against your folds.

"i'm ready. i need you. i can take you."

geto breathes in sharply at your words, his eyes trained on your cunt as he pushes in slowly. you're perfect for him, your warm walls pulling him in as your face scrunches up with pleasure. a soft moan leaves your lips as he circles your clit, burying himself even further into you until his balls rest against your ass.

he remains still for a moment, getting used to feeling of you squeezing him until you start moving your hips against him.

"please move, suguru," you whine, your voice soft and needy in his ears.

"anything for you," he whispers, lowering himself down to kiss you as he intertwines a hand with yours. he swallows your moans as he pulls out, leaving only the tip in before thrusting into you at a harsher pace.

"feels good, suguru," you moan against his lips, your hand squeezing him as he picks up his pace.

"you feel so good, sweetheart," he whispers against your lips. "you're so tight. look at you, taking me so well."

you moan at his words, your cunt clenching around him as he praises you.

"been thinking about this since the night i met you," he confesses, burying his face into the crook of your neck. he lets go of your hand to grab your legs, placing them onto his shoulders as his thrusts get deeper. "i knew this pretty pussy would be perfect for me."

your hands grab at the bedsheets as he keeps a steady rhythms, and geto finds himself fascinated by the way your breasts bounce every time he thrusts into you. he watches as you arch after a particularly deep thrust, and he makes sure to repeat the motion, enjoying the way you mewl as he reaches the deepest parts inside of you.

"suguru!" you cry out, your legs trembling as his fingers tease your clit. "i-i'm close!"

"cum for me," he whispers, eyes focused on your face as you spasm around his cock. you moan softly as he keeps thrusting, helping you ride out your high before he pulls out. you're flipped onto your stomach before you can react, your legs trembling as you try to keep yourself up on all fours.

"do you think you can do that again for me, sweetheart," geto whispers into your ear, his lips trailing down the side of your neck as you nod. "lie down for me, yeah?"

you're squirming as you obey, your face down on the sheets as geto looms over you. his usual half-bun is messy and loose from your earlier tugging, and you can feel the long strands of silky hair tickling your shoulders. his hand feels heavy as it rests on the back of your neck, keeping you in place as the tip of his dick brushes against your clit. a breathy moan leaves your lips, and he smirks as he watches you, stilling momentarily before you feel the head of his cock prod at your folds once again.

you wiggle your hips in an effort to get him to move, whining softly as you try to turn back and look at him. he chuckles lowly, fingers brushing your hair away from your shoulder before he leans down to press a teasing kiss against it. he complies anyways, groaning as he sinks into you and enjoying the way your cunt seems to suck him in.

he wonders if you know that he could never possibly deny you anything.

"harder, suguru," you beg, clenching around him as he grinds into you. "please."

it isn't long until he gives in, rutting into you like it's the only thing he's good for, his balls slapping against your clit with each stroke and sending you into a state of frenzied euphoria. you can feel his hand pushing you down, your back arching obscenely as his other hand creeps between your thighs, skilled fingers expertly nudging at your clit.

"suguru, pleasepleaseplease," you gasp, wiggling your hips to try and get him to go faster. "more, please, i—"

geto knows. he knows exactly what your trying to tell him as he speeds up, the wet sounds of your cunt only spurring him on. there's a creamy ring at the base of his cock, and geto grabs at the fat of your ass in an attempt to stop himself from cumming right then and there.

"suguru!" you squeal, trembling underneath him. "i'm cumming!"

geto grins when you gush all over him, clear liquid spattering all over his abs and thighs, coating his dick and making it easier for him to slip in and out of you. he stills for a brief moment, a low grunt leaving him as he empties himself into you. you whimper softly when he pulls out, and he grabs your chin to tilt your face toward him, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips before leaning back.

"look at you, you did so good for me, gushing all prettily around my cock," he murmurs. he watches as you clench around nothing, his cum dripping down to your clit when you hear his words. he reaches forward to gather it all up, purposely teasing your clit to hear you moan once again.

he makes no complaint when you roll over and grab his hand, licking his fingers clean before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down onto you. the two of you exchange lazy kisses before he rolls over, pulling you onto his chest before giving you a soft look.

"i like you," he says quietly, squeezing your waist as he gives you another kiss. "you know that, right?"

"mhm," you mumble tiredly. "i kinda guessed."

you press another kiss to his lips before resting your head on his chest. "i like you too."

"good," he chuckles, burying his face into your hair. "we should probably get cleaned up."

"yeah," you agree, making no move to get up. the two of you lay in silence for a few minutes, almost drifting off to sleep before you hear a loud knock on the door.

"hey!" gojo's voice is loud through the door. "congrats on the sex!"

ty for reading <3 !!

#geto x reader #geto smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #getou x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #jjk imagine #geto imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #getou imagine #suguru x reader #geto suguru imagine #getou smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

4K notes · View notes

dcxdpdabbles · 2 months

Text

The Undead Florist

Anon said: Basically, I just wanted Danny to deliver flowers to the Justice League heroes from his fans. If you can include Everlasting Trio. U can add whatever crack you think would be best! Thank you!

Clark is in the middle of blocking a heat ray attack from a robot that copies the powers of any Justice League member when the unexpected happens. A kid, no older than fourteen, boldly walks into the battlefield carrying a lavish bouquet of red roses and trigger lilies.

He's dressed in a worker uniform: light brown khakis, a black shirt with a light-born vest, and a black baseball hat resting neatly on his head. There is a company logo on the upper right of his vest but Clark does not recognize the stylized D.

There was a still moment when Clark's super speed could see the exact second Amazo spotted the child. The boy wasn't paying attention, staring at his phone screen, which had the faint details of a map, and had two headphones in his ear.

Clark's eyes widen in horror, and he opens his mouth to try to shout a warning—though he doubts the kid could hear him over the loud music playing in his ear—but before he can, Amazo flung out an arm straight at the kid's head, still pinning Clark down with a cheap version of his own laser ray eyes.

No! No, please, he's so young! He pleads mentally, frozen in horror as the robot's hand goes right through the kid's head. It took a solid minute for Clark to realize that Amazo's hand hadn't ripped through the skull of the child but rather had passed through him as if the boy was not physically there.

From underneath a black baseball cap, brim, electric blue eyes stare at Amazo. Gesturing vaguely to the arm going through his head, the boy frowns. "Rude much?"

"Access: Black Canary," Amazo says in response, his jaw opening wider as a super-powered scream is released, pointing black at the kid's face.

The frown on the worker deepens as the boy reaches up and- slaps the android in the face? "Dude, I'm trying to work. I have like eight flower deliveries today. Also, that was a weak imitation. This is a real Ghostly Wail."

He opens his jaw, letting out a sound that wasn't as loud as Black Canary or Amazo but somehow worse.

And the sound—the unholy screech that releases from the child sends Clark to his knees, quivering in his boots as Amazo disintegrates right before his eyes. The only thing left of the android is a smothering pair of robotic legs that fall over with a loud thump.

The boy huffs, paying no mind to the fact that he took out the enemy the league had spent the last six hours fighting before Clark tried to lure it away from the city. He merely glances back at his phone, following the little moving icon on the map until he stands before the fallen hero.

"Hi! Are you Superman?" The kid asks in a polite, chipper tone. It's such a whiplash change between his normal voice and his customer service voice that it sets in. This is really just a Tuesday for him.

Clark opens and closes his mouth with a weak "Yes" and is pushed out.

The kid's smile grows as he pushes the flowers into his arms. Clark nearly drops the vase, scrambling to get a good hold of them as the kid pulls out a harmonica and plays a little jingle. It sounds like a mix between Happy Birthday and Ring Around the Roses.

Once he is done, the boy holds out his arms wide open and loudly proclaims, in a very obvious Transatlantic accent, which makes him sound... rather otherwordly: "These flowers are sent by your fan Kattie Longsmith in Metropolis, wishing to thank you for rescuing her mother and brother from a fire. She wants to remind you that she is your biggest fan and hopes you have a lovely day. Thank you for selecting the Undead Florist as your means of flora travel!"

With a theatric bow, the boy blinks out of existence.

Clark is left kneeling alone in a destroyed cornfield, beating black and blue, while holding a vase of lavished roses and lilies. He is unsure how long he will stay there, trying to process what he just saw as the Batplane flies onto the scene, Bruce jumping out of it with a cry of his name.

Batman growls upon taking in the scene before his friend rushes to his side. "What happened?"

"I ugh...I got a flower delivery." He manages to utter, eyes still trained on the spot of the strange kid.

"What?"

"Trust me, I'm as confused."

It turns out that Clark's delivery is not an isolated incident. Over the past three months, various Justice League members have reported similar interactions with the Undead Florist.

Flash got a bouquet while trying to stop Captain Cold. The kid had wandered in the middle of a fight, unfreezing the speedster to hand over yellow lilies and sunflowers from a little boy named Teddy Smith in Central City. He had melted the freeze ray that was shot at him while Barry was in the middle of a panic, thinking he would watch a child die.

One little jingle and message was delivered in a Transatlantic accent later, and the boy was gone without a trace again. Bruce had gone to the scene, trying to find anything that could give him some clue, but he disputed the clear picture of his face and the recording of his voice. Nothing about the boy came up in their systems.

Wonder Woman was next, receiving two large bouquets of roses from a fellow woman she had rescued named Trix Cooperman. Her jingle was slightly smoother jazz , and the message leaned towards romantic than gratitude from a fan, but the boy had delivered it nonetheless.

He also took out Cheetah with a well-placed punch, highly impressing Diana. He had the makings of a warrior.

Then Green Arrow, Green Lantern, Martian Man Hunter, Batman, Martian Man Hunter, Hawkgirl, Aquaman, Zatanna, and surprisingly Vigilante each got their own flower grams.

None of them were able to get any information about the child, seeing as he only appeared when the members were in the middle of a fight, which was driving Bruce mad.

Of course, they had tracked down all the clients but met a dead end when each claimed they had never placed an order with Undead Florist. Even when Diana was holding her rope, the people gave the same answer.

They had no idea why Undead Florist was delivering flowers in their name or where the message that came along with the flowers appeared from. The chilling part was that the messages did actively represent their emotions and feelings towards the heroes, but how the overpowered child knew that was left unanswered.

The other thing that bothered Bruce was that the Undead Florist only appeared when they were in battle.

"Maybe it's because he doesn't know how to find you otherwise," Nightwing suggested at the Justice League-wide meeting.

"He uses a GPS that is locked into the heroes." Batman grunts, not dismissing the suggestion but challenging it, which causes his eldest son to shrug.

"Undead could be following online tips or something. It's not like the Leauge is seen just strolling around the cities, but people tweak when they do happen to see us."

"We could test that. Have a group of heroes just relaxing at a cafe or something. See where he appears and if there is a pattern after monitoring social media." Red Robin suggests, rubbing his chin.

Batman considers it before nodding. "I shall divide the teams."

The Justice League goes out, doing as instructed, and sure enough, they find the Undead Florist appearing more and more. Red Robing happily puts together the pattern, pointing to social media generated by the younger generation's demographics.

Undead Florist is an actual teenager using DCtweets to find heroes to bring flowers to. They have enough proof of that to show he's harmless if one ignores his more than impressive battle skills.

"Now all we need to do is catch him," Clark announces. "We don't want to scare him, but the Justice League really needs to know how he's doing all of this. It could be a security risk."

Meanwhile, Danny chills in his haunt, watching Sam tend to the flowers in a large greenhouse he placed for her. Tucker is typing away on a ghost zone-powered supercomputer, looking at all the Soul orders their business is getting.

The Ghost Zone didn't have a formal currency; they had Deals instead. Even small unconscious deals—like wishing on a shooting star, throwing a coin in a fountain, or sending a prayer or two—could be turned into deals if a higher being encountered them.

Luckily for those people, Danny and his lovers are very kind higher beings and choose to complete their requests in a way that satisfies all of their obsessions without stealing souls.

Sam got to spread her greenery across worlds, Tucker got to spend time with tech from different universes and Danny was able to explore and protect the souls of humans.

That Danny could exchange these Soul orders for gold was no one business but their own.

"Ohhh, another order, Red Robin, from Universe Nine!" Tucker crows. "It's roses in the shape of a heart from Kon-el. Aw, he's in love with his best friend!"

"That's sweet." Danny smiles, leaning over his boyfriend's shoulder to read the message he must memorize when he struts into Gotham. "I know how much fun dating best friends is."

"Let's help those losers confess then!" Sam calls, raising her hands as roses of various colors burst to life around her.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #everlasting trio #Dimension travel #The JL are confused #Danny is a flower delivery boy running a business with his boyfriend and girlfriend #Crack #Just imagine this scranny looking kid wander around #This is after Phantom Planet but no reveal #Just poly powerup #Deals are currency in ghost zone

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a-simple-imagine · 4 months

Text

Perfectly Pathetic

synopsis: when you take an interest in the new girl, regina takes an interest in you

pairing: regina george x plastics!fem!reader

words: 4.6k+

A/N - in the nicest of ways, please DO NOT read this if you don't want to read about toxic relationships. you have been warned. I don't want a repeat of last time. also we need more fics where regina is actually mean so

WARNINGS - swearing, alcohol use, general toxicity, toxic relationships and bullying/vague reference to weight

the clash of plastic trays and idle chatter brought alive the fragile student body of North Shore High School. on the outside this may seem like any other lunch room but inside it was a carefully crafted game of chess. every move was calculated. each person has their place and if you stray too far you're at risk. you're sat next to Gretchen Weiners. known for big hair and keeping secrets, she knows everything about everyone. opposite her is Karen Shetty. she... tries her best and looks adorable doing it. a ray of sunshine if you get to know her. and before you sits the most beautiful woman you have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Regina George. effortlessly perfect but needlessly cruel. she was the most popular person in school and one of your best friends.

perfectly manicured nails stab into the skin of your cheek as your head is yanked in her direction. razor-sharp eyes stare back. "are you even listening?" the answer was no but you didn't want to say that. "what are you staring at?"

a flash of blonde as she looks behind her. you push against her grip to look too. across the room sat Janis 'imi'ike and Damian Hubbard. you hardly ever spoke to them but you were lab partners with Damian. he was funny. today, however, there was a new addition with strawberry blonde hair, a blue checkered shirt and brown pants. you knew everyone at this school to some degree. a curse of popularity. but you had never seen her before. "seems they've got themselves a new friend"

"who cares," her nails dig a little deeper drawing a pained expression as she pulls your head back to face her. She holds your gaze for a moment. a silent challenge. before fingertips glide across your cheek and she goes back to leading the conversation across the table. you pick at the food on the tray with a fork but you can't help but be intrigued. North Shore was boring and predictable. a direct result of being under Regina's control. but this girl was new and you couldn't help but be drawn to that. to the unknown. to the possibility. three pairs of eyes as you push up from the table and march across the room.

"I haven't seen you around here before." was all you could think to say as you approached the end of the table. Janis and Damian share a look before settling on... confusion. You weren't ever particularly mean to others but you were guilty by association. people mess with you. they mess with Regina.

"oh," by the look on her face, she already knew who you were or at the very least your friends. "it's my first day."

"Where did you transfer from?"

"uh... Kenya," she seems unsure. you put it down to nerves.

"you sure about that?" a curious raise of your brow. "'cause you don't sound-"

"we're leaving" stated firmly as three girls breeze past. the blonde leads the way. the other two are just a step behind.

"so what made you move all the way here from Kenya?"

"my mom got a new job."

"couldn't find one-"

the sound of your name echoes through the room bringing the world to a stop. a weird silence settles over the room. "come. now." growled through gritted teeth and paired with snapping fingers. you were being summoned like a naughty dog ignoring their owner. a sigh as all eyes fall to you. waiting to see what you'd do but make no mistake, they already knew the answer.

"I'll see you around." a flash of a smile before you scamper after Regina.

"so your ears do work." is all the girl says as she shoves you through the door. you bite back any comment because that was how this worked. you may be top of the food chain to everyone else but Regina led the pack.

as the final bell for the day rings, you're shoving things in your locker when you spot the new girl. she seems to be struggling to even open it. you watch her for a moment. a smirk settling. this was another chance to talk and this time Regina couldn't demand your presence. "need some help?" it seemed to take her by surprise as a handful of papers drifted to the floor. a small chuckle, you reach down to collect her work and hand it back. "how's your first day going?"

she shrugs, taking the papers. "it's alright."

"anyone giving you any trouble?" you ask, falling to lean against the lockers. people around here were not nice and took every chance to show it. some more than others. She shakes her head. "you sure? if anyone does anything, I can sort them out." you give her a knowing look and she offers a sort of amused smile. "so you do know how to smile, it's cute. are you gonna tell me your name or am I gonna have to guess?"

"it's cady. Cady heron."

"well, cady heron. the trick to these," you tap her locker door with your knuckle. "is to push in and pull up before trying to open it. annoying, I know but they're old." you watch her try again and this time it swings open. "see."

"Thanks." you linger as they shove some of their stuff inside. you notice a few stray stickers on the locker opposite.

"no problem." you push up from the metal. "I can show you all types of tricks to get through this hellscape if you want?" she shuts her locker and you both start walking towards the exit. "number one tip, avoid Regina."

"Isn't she your friend?"

"yeah," you nod. "that's why I said it. She can be... a lot. surely Janis told you that."

Cady looks at you for a long moment. "something like that." you let out a chuckle. Janis probably told her what a massive bitch Regina was. they had a less than favourable history.

"I should go. I'll see you around Cady Heron." as you both go your separate ways, you can't help but glance at her as she walks away.

having a study period just before lunch was both an absolutely ridiculous idea and the best thing to happen to your schedule. it basically guaranteed you didn't do any work whatsoever and felt more like a two-hour lunch period. seems you shared it with the new girl because she was sitting at a table scribbling in a book alongside Janis who was doing her normal embroidery or whatever.

"if it isn't Cady Heron," you comment, taking a seat on the bench. her face brightens at the sight.

"where's the rest of the coven?" Janis asks, not even bothering to look up from her work. "wait- don't tell me, a house fell on them."

"you're so funny Janis," an exaggerated sarcastic laugh.

"I think I can hear children singing... ding... dong the witch-"

"So Cady, how are you enjoying north shore?" you interrupt loudly and the 'song' trails off.

"It's fine."

"you don't talk much huh?"

her mouth opens but falls silent as Gretchen approaches the end of the table. she shoots you a less than favourable look. your brow furrows a little.

"Can I talk to you," pitch a little too high to say no.

"Sure," a shrug. you look at her for a long moment waiting for her to continue.

"in private," Gretchen urges. with a roll of your eyes, you stand up. flashing a smile at Cady, Gretchen grabs your hand and drags you away before you can say anything.

"what are you doing?" whisper yelled at you.

"I was just talking." god this girl was dramatic. you take your usual spot. she sits opposite.

"to the art freaks?"

"dude, it's fine."

"no it's not." she urges quickly, shaking her head "You know how Regina gets."

"Regina isn't here?" and she wouldn't be until lunch. only you and Gretchen share this free period. usually, you spend it listening to her gossip about people. she could not keep a secret to save her life at least not when it came to anyone outside of you and your friends; even then it's dicey. fun for you though.

"All I'm saying is you need to be careful,"

"don't worry. I was only interested in the new girl."

"that's worse," you just roll your eyes. "Regina doesn't like her."

"Regina doesn't even know her," you argue. "none of us do. she's been here like a week."

Gretchen thinks the idea of even wanting to talk to Cady is blasphemy. that it's better to avoid her but you think she's overreacting. Cady hadn't established herself at this school yet. right now she is with Janis but tomorrow who knows? she could be cool. it's a matter of perspective.

a pretty perfect smile does little to distract from playful eyes as you approach her jeep. the blonde is in the driver's seat. one hand rested over the steering wheel. the other typing something on her phone. She had sent a message telling you to hurry up but on arrival, neither Karen nor Gretchen were even here yet. you toss your bag in the back, climbing into your usual spot behind the driver's seat. Karen is usually next to you. "sit in the front, weirdo," she comments. you don't bother with a comeback, just moving to the front passenger seat.

"Where are the others?" you ask, glancing at her. the soft glow of the afternoon sun kissed her skin beautifully. black shades hang on the end of her nose. She really was something to be admired. Regina shrugs and then tosses her phone down. the car roars to life and you're starting down the road before you can think any more about it. it's pretty silent at first. the sound of the radio filling the space. the lack of your two other friends acting as a buffer was sitting weirdly. this wasn't your first time alone with Regina but she's been so grumpy lately. whatever you say feels like an invitation.

"so you like the new girl?" asked casually as she came to an abrupt stop at a red light. you just forward, the seatbelt digging into your neck. it drags up a quick cough but that could also be from surprise. other than that first interaction where she'd summoned you from across the room, you had never spoken to Cady when she was around. Gretchen may be dramatic but she probably wasn't wrong and you really didn't feel like risking it.

"Sorry?" feign confusion was... a choice but it seemed like the better option here.

"you like the new girl," repeated calmly; her eyes drift to you as yours move towards the traffic light. was this the longest red light in history? "right?"

now it's your turn to shrug. you find Cady intriguing but you're not entirely sure if it's interested in the way Regina is implying or just because you were so bored of the every day. "she's cool." a scoff as she pulls away continuing down the road. "you've hardly spoken to her."

"don't need to," Regina didn't miss a beat. Cady definitely didn't fit into what she'd consider cool but then again, neither had you. not entirely anyway and now you're here. you hang out with the most popular people in school. went to the hottest parties. you were currently being driven around by the Regina George. you never understood why or maybe you did and just refused to accept it was that simple. you know what everyone else says. that it's because of the attention you show her. you wouldn't necessarily say they're wrong but everyone gave her attention. She did always say there was something special about you. "I thought you at least had standards."

the rest of the car ride is silent as you think over what she said and Regina keeps to herself. the music is the only thing, keeping you sane until you pull up at the George residence. you always forget just how big her house is until you're there. As you walk inside, her mum appears abruptly startling you a little.

"hey, ms. George."

"hey girls," she singsonged. "how was school?"

"fine," Regina shoots back.

"well if you need anything? a drink? some snacks? advice? I'm here,"

"I'd actually love an iced-"

"we're good," growled as she grabbed your wrist hauling you up the stairs. "don't bother us." a confused look but she didn't let go until you were firmly inside her bedroom. door slammed shut. the blonde tosses her bag down.

"you should really be nicer to your mom, she adores you," you say idly taking a seat on the end of her bed, placing your bag down.

"you should shut up because it's none of your fucking business."

jesus christ. you kinda regret the decision to come over. "I just wanted an iced tea. maybe a little snack."

"god knows you don't need it," Regina comments. wow. okay. she was in a mood.

"what's up with you?"

"I'm fine," she responds. "you're just being so fucking annoying recently."

"I haven't done anything?" you've not been acting any differently so you have no clue what she's talking about.

"just absolutely drooling over the new girl. it's embarrassing." she declares, taking a seat on the bed.

"I..." you stop yourself because you're more confused than anything else. "we've spoken like once."

"liar" she responds. "I know you've been talking all the time," fucking Gretchen. "do you think she's pretty?"

"Cady?" Regina nods. you shrug. "I guess."

"prettier than me?" her head tilts. you can't tell if she was jealous or fishing for compliments; neither was her style. so it was probably a trap.

"no." you wanna say she's being dramatic but that wouldn't end well. She doesn't say anything, hardly even reacts. just cold eyes. Is she expecting you to say more? "of course not." you're waiting for the ball to drop. for her to make a snide comment or something. anything was better than nothing. but it just never comes. she takes out her phone and starts typing. you fall back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. you both just sit in the quiet. you're worried about saying anything that'll lead to more insults. god knows what she is doing on her phone.

"you're so pathetic." Regina eventually says. you'd take offence if you weren't used to it; basically a term of endearment at this point. you can hear her moving but don't bother looking until she's towering over you. dark eyes and a small smile that would seem genuine coming from anyone else. a hand cups your cheek but no nails follow; it's gentle and slow as she runs her thumb over your skin. what was happening right now? "do you ever think about me?" you blink a few times trying to make sense of everything. why was she being so nice? why was she being so gentle? why did she ask that?

"what do you mean?"

a roll of her pretty eyes. "you know what I mean." you did but surely not.

"I... don't know what to say."

"Because I think about you," your breathing hitches as you sit up. looking at her properly. "those pretty eyes," she moves closer. "these lips," her thumb runs over your bottom lip. you swallow hard. "do you wanna kiss me?" you just stare back. a smirk as she ghosts your lips.

"say you wanna kiss me." this felt cruel. you lean in and she pulls back slightly. a finger pressed against your lips. her expression is colder now. sharp. "say it."

"I... wanna kiss you," you dare and that smirk quickly returns. removing her finger, Regina leans in and connects your lips. it's soft and slow. not at all like you imagined kissing Regina George would feel like... until the girl pushes into you and it's exactly like you imagined. fast. forceful. like she wanted to devour you. A hand pushes you back against her massive bed and she moves to straddle your hips. your heart is beating so loudly you wouldn't be surprised if she could hear it.

"still thinking about the new girl?"

"I never-" You feel her press a little harder against your chest so you change your answer. "no." Regina tosses her hair over one shoulder, and a finger under your chin pushes your head up.

"I don't think you should talk to her anymore," Regina states before leaning down to connect your lips once more. "understood?"

you're too caught up in the moment to really gauge how serious she was being so you nod. "good girl." whispered against your lips.

Regina George had always been a lot. She always demanded attention and you often gave her it. you weren't ashamed of that. She knew you'd do anything for her. As did most of the school.

"Hey," Cady suddenly appears beside you in the hallway. she seems a lot more relaxed around you which was nice to see. however, you have not spoken to them since that weird night with Regina. She wouldn't like it. plus Gretchen would probably snitch on you immediately. "so we should probably figure out a time to work on our project." you've been paired up for an assignment in American literature.

"We can do it today after school if you want?" she nods. "I'll meet you out front."

"hey Cady," Karen slides up beside you on the other side, instantly looping your arms. ever the pleasant company. you wonder if she just wanted to see you or get you away from Cady. probably the former.

"I'll see you later," you say to the new girl before turning to your friend. "what do you want?"

"you're coming to Connor's party Saturday?"

"Obviously,"

"I have the perfect-"

"no," you respond instantly. you loved Karen. she was genuinely the sweetest person you know. but at every party, she tries to give you a Karen Shetty special aka a makeover. and every single time you have to say no.

"but I have the perfect outfit for you."

"is it actually perfect for me or just slutty."

"Both," Karen states excitedly. "please," pleading eyes as she draws you closer, hugging your arm. "please please please."

a loud groan. "fine."

"Really?" her eyes light up and circulation quickly returns to your arm. you nod at her which leads to excited clapping. maybe it wouldn't be so bad. maybe it was the perfect outfit for you but also sexy enough to satisfy Karen.

"oh here," you reach into your bag and produce a homemade friendship bracelet. you'd been tutoring some younger students for extra credit but sometimes you just hung out with them. "made them with some of the kids so,"

"ah thank you," she takes it eagerly. you had one for Gretchen and Regina too. only one of them would appreciate it though.

"why were you chatting with Cady?" Karen asks, sliding on her bracelet as she takes your arm once more.

"we're doing a project together," you explain. "you were literally just in class with us Karen."

"oh yeah," she smiles brightly. "I'm starving." you chuckle a little and allow her to eagerly pull you towards the dining room.

you're sitting on the grass. Cady is talking in your ear as you stare into the distance. most students had gone home already. The rest were working on homework or projects or extracurricular activities. you arranged this meeting but god were you bored. no offence to Cady but you kinda wish you'd been paired with Karen so you could be fucking about right now and then rush the work the night before it's due.

"are you going to the party Saturday?" you ask idly.

"What party?"

"oh shit." you forgot she was hanging out with Janis and Damian who definitely wouldn't have been invited. "connor mckay is having a party. The dudes a mess, big house though. you should come,"

"don't think I was invited,"

"I'm inviting you."

"not sure that's how it works."

"Just come Cady," you insist. "you can bring Janis and Damian too if you want. everyone will be too fucked to notice."

"uh, thanks then" she smiles a little, glancing back at her textbook. "I'll think about it."

"you have to think about attending your first high school party?" you question. laying down on your back. "I'll be there," you turn your head to look at them. "it'll be fun." you watch her carefully and soon she smiles.

"Okay, yeah."

"well that was easy," should have just started by stating you'll be there. "Be careful, Cady." you tease, looking back to clouds passing by but you can't help but smirk a little. "I'll start thinking you like me."

sat in the back of Regina's jeep as she fixes her hair in the overhead mirror, Karen inspects your face while Gretchen is copying Regina by fixing her hair. "can we just go in," you insist, slapping Karen's hands away. "before I regret coming."

"Why would you regret coming?" Gretchen questions, looking around at you.

"I feel stupid,"

"you look amazing," Karen urges. "perfect."

"you would say that."

"stop whining," Regina insists. flipping up her mirror. "you look hot. now let's go."

finally. "I'm gonna get so fucked up," you state as you step out of the car. walking beside Regina with Gretchen and Karen a step behind. the party is already alive. started at six. It was eight.

you reach the point in every party where you just don't want to be there anymore pretty quickly tonight. you're suddenly so aware of how annoying everyone is. sat on the kitchen counter, you swing your legs back and forth as you sip whatever was in your cup. Gretchen gave it to you. the party passes around you like you're not even there until an all too familiar blonde appears. "you look sad," you'd mistake that for genuine concern if it wasn't Regina "Already at sad drunk, that's impressive."

"what do you want Regina?" she had basically ignored you since you arrived so why she suddenly thought you were worthy of her presence, you'll never know. Shane was the object of her disgustingly public displays of affection tonight. "thought you'd be too busy with Shane."

"god, you're so obsessed with Shane," a roll of her eyes as she takes the cup from your hand to help herself. you watch her as the red cup comes to painted lips. not a hair out of place. so perfect. Regina was perfect. it was annoying

"I invited Cady tonight," you state, snatching your cup back.

"ew. why? I thought we agreed you weren't going near Cady anymore," technically you did. practically it wasn't that deep. who cares.

"And Janis and Damian but mostly to get Cady here,"

"desperate to hang out with losers," Regina sighs. "is she here?"

you shrug. "too many people. too big a house. I haven't looked, to be honest."

"Well," a hand finds its way to your thigh, running up and then down softly. "if you're good tonight maybe I'll give you a little treat."

"don't," you push her hand away. "go back to your boyfriend."

"he's not my boyfriend,"

"well whatever he is," you jump down off the countertop. "you made it very clear that I'm not what you want."

"you're so dramatic," she pushes up too. "I hate when you get drunk."

"Whatever."

"fuck sake," Regina responds. "you act like I said we're together or something."

"you're such an asshole," you huff. "I'm gonna find Cady."

"good luck with that,"

there are so many people at this party. you're not sure who half of them even are but they all seem to know you as you stumble around after the new girl. a constant barrage of 'hellos' and 'you look hot' in various forms. it's tiring. annoying. and you're about to give up and go find Gretchen so she can rub your back to make you feel better when you spot her. She was looking as awkward as ever. "you came." shouted over the thump of the music

"yeah," her face lit up. "Damian too. Janis said she'd rather jump off a bridge than come so..."

"That sounds... exactly like her," you nod. "I like..." you glance at her outfit. Regina would hate it. you don't love it. "your outfit. very school teacher chic."

"Thanks," she replies. "I didn't have anything to wear so,"

"it's cool. I'm just happy someone here isn't gonna irritate me- do you want a drink?"

"Sure," she nods. "do they have juice?"

"uh... probably somewhere." who asks for juice at a party? "I'll check. stay here."

you wander off back to the kitchen in search of some juice. your first stop is the fridge which is very stocked. you briefly scan for anything open, sweet and edible before just grabbing a carton of fresh orange and deciding that will do. pouring her a glass before heading back. she's still in the same spot only a particular blonde in the tightest little black dress has decided to strike up a conversation. you immediately know something is wrong. Regina can't stand Cady. it's why you told her you admitted to inviting her so easily. You wanted to piss her off. you can't make out what is happening but as you make your approach the redhead leaves. Regina turns to you with a sugary sweet smile betrayed by her eyes. "hey baby girl, feeling any better?"

"What did you say to her?"

"why do you have a glass of" brow knitted as she tapped her nail against the glass. "orange juice?"

"What did you say to her?"

"who?" you let her have the glass and she takes a sip. a visible look of disgust. "is there anything in this?"

"It's just fresh orange,"

"what the fuck? are you trying to sober up or what?"

"it was for Cady," you explain. "what did you say?"

the blonde shrugs. "she just had to go. not my fault." you don't believe her. why would you? She has a track record of being a conniving person who'll make trouble just for the sake of it. it'd be naive to think she didn't do anything."

"Why do you have to be such a fucking bitch all of the time," you grumble loudly. a hand snaps around your wrist and suddenly you're yanked closer to her. hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

"I let you off before because you were all sad and tragic but don't think you can ever talk to me like that," growled in your ear before she abruptly shoved you away. "Cady left. get over it."

"she only left because you said something,"

"she left because she realised you don't like her," the blonde snapped. such a pretty poison came in the form of Regina George as she turned her gaze on you. She was pissed but kept it quietly contained to just beneath the music so nobody else had a clue. "that you've just been stringing her along. pretending to be her friend. all because I wasn't showing you enough attention," she's close again. too close. she wasn't physically that tall but right she seemed massive as she loomed over you. her eyes flicker to your lips and back up. did she wanna kiss you or kill you? neither seemed smart. "she realised that you belong to me."

"I'm not a dog Regina."

"you sure about that," a mean glint in those pretty eyes. "you wanted my attention. you got it." she shoves the orange juice back in your hand. it's contents splashing your hand. "don't cry about it now." and with that she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd

// NEXT

#regina george #regina george x reader #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #renee rapp #mean girls fanfic #regina george fanfic

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wonryllis · 5 months

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HIGH ON HEELS FOR YOU.

────𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆.

( NOTES. ) enhypen as starstruck bois. fluff. fem!centered. lowercase intended. unedited. 860wc. requested. 𓈃 ๋ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 峠 requests open!

⋆ ─ LEE HEE-SEUNG. 이희승 boy can't take his eyes off your feet quite literally. from the moment you bring them out he's staring at the pair, watching your pretty hands put your pretty feet in them, tying the little pretty ribbons around your pretty ankles.

"baby, are you wearing that one?" heeseung asks, his brown orbs glued to the pastel green pencil heels you grab from your closet. slowly moving closer and sitting beside you on the vanity couch as you put them on carefully,"it's so beautiful, it even goes with your nails!" you laugh at the enthusiasm in his voice, everytime you wear heels he just babbles so many compliments.

⋆ ─ PARK JONG-SEONG. 박종성 jay is relatively composed even though in his mind all he can think about is how beautiful you look in those blue heels he just bought for you the other day. for him it looks even prettier because he got them for you, he choose it for you.

"aren't these the ones i got you from milan?" jay walks over to the full mirror in your closet as you admire how the baby blue wedges look on you, his hands circling around your waist and chin resting at the crook of your neck. "i knew you'd look so so pretty in them," you nod giggling when he press a fluttering kiss to your exposed shoulder before admiring you in the mirror.

⋆ ─ SIM JAE-YUN. ��재윤 you best believe he's the one putting them on for you. eyes sparkling the way they compliment your dress, oh also he putting the dress on you too. he just wants to be the one to doll you up his pretty little girl who just needs to sit and look pretty.

"let me choose!" jake rushes past you into the closet, quickly sliding open the doors and going through the bunch of dresses and heels you own. when he finds the dress he wants, he helps you put it on through every step. as for the heels he goes down on his knees, guides you feet in them and ties the pretty white lace around your ankle,"like a real doll, my doll, so pretty,"

⋆ ─ PARK SUNG-HOON. 이희승 he literally has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. always walks behind you cause he lovess the way your hips sway from side to side when you walk in your heels. and the way you look so confident he's down bad for it.

"angel, you're so beautiful. how do you manage to be so beautiful all the time?" sunghoon rambles walking just a step behind and pausing a second too long at the doors of the elevator as you get on first. at the party he's literally gatekeeping you from others,"can't believe you're all mine," sneaking little neck kisses and jaw kisses here and there to show you off at the same time.

⋆ ─ KIM SUN-WOO. 김선우 he's such a hype man for you, always encouraging you to put on your pretty heels for him. when you get tired he'll always offer to piggyback you or carry you princess style. also loves holding you close by your lower back, such an opportunity for him.

"my baby is always a beauty," sunoo gushes having his hand around your lower back as you walk through the party you're at. gushing and asking everyone you two talk to "isn't my girl so pretty?" and how lucky he is to have you. "we'll be leaving, my baby is tired," when he notices your discomfort, bending down and signalling you to get on him,"come on, your prince will bring you home,"

⋆ ─ YANG JUNG-WON. 양정원 you can see it all in his face, the way he's at a loss for words, the way he moves around you everything. but he also worries if you might twist your ankle or trip so always holds your hands and leads anywhere and everywhere you go.

"here, hold on to me love," jungwon offers his arm when you reach a pair of steps that are too steep. and immediately after intertwining his fingers with you to guide you safe as he walks just a step ahead supporting you. "you look so pretty in heels but you know i dont wan' you hurt," he says pressing a kiss to your forehead and then after to your lips, tightening his grip.

⋆ ─ NISHIMURA RI-KI. 西村力 if he's not saying anything just know he loves it. and if he starts complaining that he'll not carry you back if you get tired just know he'll take off your heels for you and make you wear his shoes while he holds onto them and walks back bare foot.

"there i saved you princess," riki grins slyly, holding tight onto your waist after you accidentally trip on open air and grass. his hand stays there for a moment as he helps you stand straight, tucking a strand of hair that fell on your eyes. he immediately scoops you up and places you on a nearby bench. then taking off his shoes and your heels,"put them on pls, hm?"

TAGLIST ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii

#enhypen imagines #k-labels #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen fluff #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen sunghoon imagines #enhypen sunoo imagines #enhypen jungwon imagines #enhypen niki imagines

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diejager · 6 months

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JAKAJWIH I just saw this post and https://www.tumblr.com/citrusbunnies/732151502028898304

I can’t help but imagine deer!hybrid reader that’s with 141, and they/she/he (it doesn’t matter lol) walked out of the bushes or woods to the team inside and their reaction to it!

Also I LOVE your work, every time I see that you have posted wether it be recently or if they are older and they just appear in my feed. I get excited! 😭 also if you don’t wanna do this, feel free to ignore COMPLETELY! I just saw this and I thought it was so cute😭😭

That deer image is actually funny… this drabble though, not so much.

Doe Cw: hybrid, DARKFIC, IMPLIED DUB-CON/NON-CON, kidnapping, training, implied sex, tell me if I missed any.

They cued in on the rustling sound, bushes ruffling against an unknown body hiding behind the tree line, moving as if they were unaware of the men or uncaring of danger. Rifles pointed towards the source, Price held control of the situation, aware of the danger when hunting feral hybrids. Ferals were unpredictable, unable to find the distinction between friend or foe, but they were smart, cunning and weren’t shy to group together, forming hunting packs. Those that were impossible to rehabilitate would stay in the wild, some causing trouble and others keeping to themselves, living alone or in a community they built on their own.

Despite the trepidataion and tension in their shoulders, the waited, breaths steady and unyielding to the harsh winds of early winter. They expected a wolf - or a few - or a bear to jump at them, but were released to see antlers poking out of the bush, tines interlocked with green and dried leaves still tied to a thin branch, followed by perked ears, rounded ends flicking against the leafage stuck around the antlers. A head soon followed, big, doe eyes with the dilated, rounded pupils staring at them with timid curiosity, uncertain of the danger.

Rather than a big brown bear or a deranged grey wolf, they found a curious deer hybrid. Price raised his fist, ordering the three of them to lower their weapons, holding it to his chest, he took a step towards you, slow and tentative. You jerked back, body moving out of your hiding place, fully exposing yourself to men —men deprived of the gentle touch of a woman and the loving embrace of one. You wore rags, hanging off the small straps of your shoulder and stopped mid-thigh, soft and plush skin; your dress hugged the promiscuous curves of your hips and the swell of your breasts and ass, leaving nothing to their imagination. You were a sight to hungry and deprived men like them, gruff and overworked, tired and wanting a moment of reprieve to relax and work off the stress.

“Hello,” it hadn’t crossed his mind whether or not you spoke, seeing that you were dressed in nothing but rags despite looking clean and untouched by filth, simply delicious to their eyes. “I’m John,” he gave you a smile, his eyes creased and cheeks wrinkled, his lips stretched under his bear-like beard, “Who are you?”

His softer approach made you compliant, mumbling out your name in a soft voice. You were skittish, looking as if a single abrupt movement would have you buck away from them, and they couldn’t have that, you were a source of information and much more. Soft curves and doe-eyed filled with a sort of innocence, able to thrive in the wild with feral hybrids, ye untouched by their rough and untamed character.

“Who… who are they?” Your eyes gazed over the three men behind Price, hands pulled to your chest in an effort to give yourself comfort and protection against the dark gleam in their brown and blue eyes.

“That’s Soap,” your eyes followed his hand, hovering towards the men with striking, blue irises and a weird haircut. “Gaz,” he motioned towards the man with warm, brown skin and a pretty face. “And Ghost,” he was the most intimidating, broad and big, it made you shudder. “What are you doing here?”

The question lingered in the air, you frowned, seemingly unwilling to divulge your reason because you had the same question, wanting to know why big, armed men were threading in your home. You looked away, staring at their feet rather than their strong gaze, feet shuffling around. They watched you bite your lip, pearly whites peaking under your lip to sink down in your glossy lips, perfect for kissing. How would you taste if they got their hands on you? Would your mouth taste as sweet and delicious as you looked? You were temptation on two feet.

“This is my home,” you reluctantly told them, becoming more anxieties by the second. It seemed like you were waiting for the right moment to skip away, to rush through the forest and hide away from the men who had a sudden interest in you. “You?”

“Classified, love.”

You perked up and shied away at the way he called you, his rumbling voice turning soft and disarming, near becoming for a sensitive hybrid like you. You were so adorable when you acted all shy, ears flicking and little nose scrunching up. You were naturally wary of anyone as a prey animal, vulnerable and without claws or sharp teeth against anything bigger than you. They could all see the tension building in your body, ears backed against your head and fingers fumbling around, his voice might’ve soothed you, but his reply made you fearful, suspicious enough to look more and more like you were going to flee.

If you ran, they would follow, Ghost would probably the one to catch you first, surprisingly fast and nimble for someone of his stature. He’d tackle you to the ground, scruff you and hold you down despite your wails and take you back, you had something they needed. Ghost would do the training, prepping you however he deemed fit and punish you if you lashed out. Gaz and Soap could easily break you in, their gentler countenance working in their favour. A push and pull, essentially, with Soap’s puppy-like aggression and mischievousness, and Gaz’s gentle care and grounding hand. Price would keep you in check, sometimes overseeing Ghost’s training and other times participating in it, being the disapproving and sympathetic one when faced with Ghost’s cruel and degrading ways.

You were pretty in rags - you would look pretty in anything you wore - but you’d be the prettiest naked and stuffed on their laps, eyes rolled back and breasts jostling. Taking you would take care of their needs, the temptation pulsing in their crotch. You wouldn’t mind it, would you? It would be better than sleeping on the rough, forest terrain, victim to both nature and the wilderness. You would be protected and taken care of, what else would you want?

“Why don’t you come with us, love,” it wasn’t an offer, it was a demand —an order.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday

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vellichor-of-the-solivagant · 6 months

Text

With Them, Who Swallowed a Star

PAIRING: Professor!Task Force 141 X F!Student!Reader WORD COUNT 5.3k CONTENT WARNING: NSFW! group sex, age gap, fingering, cunnilingus, oral sex, handjobs, facefucking/blowjobs, unprotected sex, p in v, anal sex, slight usage of nicknames, reader is a pianist/student, tf141 are professors, smut with plot SYNOPSIS: A musician is a storyteller in their own ways. You had told yours and captured the sights of men you never expected to pull when you stepped inside an academy. AUTHOR'S NOTE: I tried to be poetic. This fried my brain and I'm not going to write something like this again. That's a lie because I have a series that has 5 love interests. This one was supposed to have Graves as well since he's actually my inspiration for writing this shit, but I ended up not adding him. I might do it on Drabbles if someone asks though. And yes, I have changed my username from DontFearTheReaperAzura. Here's the Masterlist for more! Also on Archive of Our Own

Your fingers fluttered slightly as you lifted your hands to the keys, blocking out the rustling from others as they sat in the grand auditorium. Long and drawn, you began to tell a tale you had held for a long time. Notes swam in the air, old friends that played with your tresses and caressed your skin.

The story started slowly, the sound of the beginning, the beginning of the end. Longing clashed with trepidation, your fingers sang a song of despair. You swayed with the music, lost in the whims of unspoken words—of a world you owned. Quicker and quicker, the notes climbed in sync with your heart, growing joyful in hopes of masking the mournful melody surrounding you.

It filled the emptiness deep within your chest for a moment, before like the heavens shed tears upon a barren land, you showed—you poured out the lore of your world, and with heavy reluctance to leave what you created, you played the last few notes.

For a few moments, you kept your eyes closed, and when a series of claps reached your ears, only then you opened them. You were shackled back to reality just as you held back your work.

You looked at the people, who in your eyes were nothing but shadows at the beginning, now enamored, yearning for the rest. You knew they felt it, too. Pulled, as though you were the center of the system. Like the Sun, a star.

And one man stuck out more than others, gazing at you, blue eyes almost ravenous. But it didn’t last for long, just like a song in the wind, he faded among the standing crowd, drowned out in the flurry of praise.

You breathed out a sigh as you stared at the towering structure before you, now your second hell—in replacement of the ramshackle place you call home—after you had gotten a scholarship to this prestigious university after years of a couple of years of working your ass off. Students rushed past you on their way in and out of their classes, but you stood frozen.

Suddenly you felt awfully unprepared for this unfamiliar place, of socializing and strangers, and of university. Of life. What did Google say about socializing with people your age again? How about impressing a professor? Good lord.

You shrugged off your thoughts and sauntered to your class. A large lecture hall welcomed your sight and you found an empty seat at the front row. Not the perfect place for observation of the whole place, but good for listening to the professor.

The sound of expensive shoes echoed throughout the hushed room and you kept your eyes down as you took out your notebook and pen. As the quiet dragged on, you glanced at the professor and found your brows raising at his sight.

He was tall, seemed to be fit, and in his thirties. He had a few wrinkles, a beard, and brown hair, but no sign of graying.

Above all, you could remember those eyes. An endless swirl of blue. The man at the concert hall.

You put your gaze down as the professor looked down on you, your heart hammered against your ribs, sudden nervousness springing in your nerves. You wished he wouldn’t recognize you, but at the same time, you hoped he did.

Yet, the silence remained, and in curiosity, you looked back up. Your breath hitched as your eyes met his, gaze shining with something you couldn’t decipher, and a smile formed on his lips.

You forced yourself to mirror it and batted a glance at the door. You wanted to get out.

The professor introduced himself as Jonathan Price, and told the class a few things about himself, before diving straight into the first lesson of Philosophy.

Time seemed to flow fast throughout his class and you kept your fingers busy, writing down his words. He was easy to understand, bringing out intricate details in his lesson, and asked questions now and then if he was going too fast while walking around the room.

You couldn’t help but notice his slacks fit in a certain area. Then again, that thing wouldn’t give you a brain cell even if you suck it off.

The bell chimed and you gathered and stuffed your notebook and pen inside your bag, jolting up to your feet. But as you approached the exit, his canorous voice called out to you.

“Pardon me, young lady.”

You turned to face the professor, keeping a respectable distance from him, which he closed off, only standing a couple of feet from you.

“Yes, sir?” You asked in a small voice when he remained silent, his eyes studying you with disconcerting intensity, just like how he gazed at you at your performance.

Finally, after an uncomfortable silence, he asked. “What’s your name?”

You spoke of your name in a steady voice, equally confused and intimidated, you gripped on the strap of your bag. Everyone had already left, now bringing quietness to the hall.

He smiled once again, his head tilting a bit to the side. “A pretty name.” His voice sent goosebumps on your skin, making you breathe in deeply, inhaling the scent of his pleasant cologne. “Such a shame I couldn’t catch it after your performance a couple of weeks ago.”

He remembered you.

Your cheeks began to burn.

Oh, how he yearned to caress your tinted cheeks, place a kiss on them, and mutter praise against your soft skin.

“Ah, you were there, weren’t you, sir?” You offered him a smile and a pause. “I think I caught a glance of you in the front rows.”

“Correct.”

“Thank you for watching, sir,” you said, not knowing what to speak of next, and nodded at him, reaching out to the knob to leave. But he reached for the door, making you blink at his unexpected actions, caged between the door and him.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off of you,” he fessed, bodies now closer to yours that you almost touched, and you gulped. “You were magnificent.” He opened the door, a hand motioning at you. “See you on Wednesday. And I hope we see more of your performance.”

We?

You jolted awake at the loud laughter of a raucous group outside of your room and grunted at the sudden pang of pain in your head when you stood up. You glanced at the alarm clock by your bedside and muttered a crisp curse, hauling your bag. You burst out of your room, slipping past students in the hallway like a breeze, hurried apologies were called out to those poor victims she bumped into.

The morning had been long and tiring, and you decided to take a nap earlier, only to end up sleeping for a couple of hours. Now, you were about to get late for your next class, and the usual ten-minute walk turned into a five-minute run and an uncalled exercise.

You glanced from left to right in the hallway, glancing at your phone to make sure you were in the right building, and turned to the right, following the signs. You halted before a room, strangely closed even though the class was supposed to start in five minutes.

You used your phone as a mirror and patted down your hair, before turning the knob and opening the door. You walked into a softly lit room and realized the mistake you had made as you spotted a man splayed down on a couch across the room. A hand behind his head and over his stomach, and over the lower half of his face was a black mask.

Inside was a personal office, belonging to one of the professors.

You immediately turned away, about to exit the room when an angry voice echoed.

“Have you got no manners?” The man rose to sit, a scowl painted on his face.

For the nth time in your sorry life, you wanted to bury yourself alive. You dipped your head low in embarrassment. “I’m very sorry, sir. I thought this was the room my class was in. I didn’t mean to intrude.” You frantically fumbled on your phone, inputting the wrong password one time, and read your schedule.

You read the room number wrong.

Brilliant. Bloody brilliant.

The professor fixed his crooked mask. “What class were you supposed to go to?”

“Uh, a math class of Mr. Simon Riley,” you read on your phone, keeping your head low.

A hum escaped past the man’s lips, making you glance up at him. His dark blond hair slightly ruffled from his apparent nap and coat a bit crooked. He ran his hand on his hair, fixed his coat, and patted down the invisible wrinkles on the fabric.

He stood up and you inched back, surprised at his stature. A tall man with broad shoulders and arms noticeably strong, (massive honkers) and eyes like a pool of honey, swirling like molten gold under the light.

“You’re in luck, sweetheart. I’m Simon Riley. You’re in my office, our class is in the next room.” Unlike earlier, his cold voice had turned a bit softer, but the fact that he was your professor made your sweat run cold.

You nodded, inwardly wincing at your dumbass. “Again, I apologize, sir.”

He stood before you, next to the opened door. Gladly, there were no students passing by in the hallway.

“What is your name, love?” he questioned, his hands going to his pockets. His eyes narrowed at the way your head dipped, refusing to meet his gaze. Like a meek little bunny, scared of the world and what all those pretty eyes could see.

He wanted to place a finger under your chin and lift your face up to look at him.

You never knew introducing yourself could feel like an interrogation until now. You told him your name, averting your gaze down at his shoes that shifted slightly. “Nice to meet you, Sir Riley. I’m sorry it wasn’t under the best circumstances.”

He hummed once again and stepped out of the office. “Pleasure’s all mine."

You followed him out of the room and he swiftly closed the door behind you, his being a bit closer to you than comfort.

With a nod, Professor Riley led you to the classroom. Dozens of students had already occupied the room and you silently made your way to a vacant seat on the second row, placing your bag next to you.

Just like Mr. Price, the masked professor went straight to the point, briefly introducing himself to the crowd, and began his lesson. He, too, was easy to understand, repeating the equations some couldn't get well, and was kind enough to let the class take a few minutes of break, before continuing. You had also come to notice he would fix his mask every once in a short while.

And when the bell chimed, he bid his students goodbye, yet called for your name. You halted on gathering your things as he approached you. His eyes glanced at the students who last left the room before he spoke.

"Feel free to come by my office whenever you have a question or need anything. Can't have you lose your way again, do we?" He asked, a bit of amusement in his voice as he leaned close.

You smiled at his offer. "Thank you, sir."

Sure as shooting, you asked him where your next room was for Chemistry. By good fortune, he knew where it was and who the professor would be.

"Ah, there he is." Sir Riley abruptly came to a stop, making you halt in your tracks as well and follow the direction of his gaze, to see a man with a mohawk.

"Simon!" The man jogged towards the two of you, a grin playing on his lips in contrast to the man who never took off his mask. Another person with blue optics, but his were bluer as though someone took a piece of the briny deep and placed it in his optics.

He kept a smile as his attention swept to you. "And who's the little bird?"

You frowned a bit at the nickname, nonetheless gave him your name, and watched his eyes light up with fascination. The man began to tell the pull he felt by the notes of your music, how enamored he was by the unspoken words of your tale.

He was there, too and Sir Riley was along with them.

Your face flushed as he ranted and they both noticed, taking note of the shades painted on your skin, bashful of the sudden recognition.

"He is John Mactavish, your Chemistry professor," Sir Riley piped in, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder, before bidding his farewell at the moment, marching down to his next class.

Left all alone with Professor Mactavish, you turned to him. He grinned at you and he beckoned at you to follow him. The man was, well, talkative and wasted not a second expressing his applause of your performance and how he never expected to see you in the university.

You could only mutter small words and nod, already feeling exhausted. But it was pleasant to hear him compliment you. You could get used to it.

And you could get used to his enthusiasm for teaching. His first lesson went straight to an experiment and dragged you to his side as his assistant, instructing you to mix chemicals. Occasionally, his fingers brushed over yours as you passed vials.

Your eyes met, and sparks flew all around.

Literal spark.

And fire.

Professor Mactavish pulled you to the side, hand remaining on your arm as the chemicals were set ablaze.

With a couple of ticks of the clock, a giggle erupted from your lips and like there was a pull, his chuckles followed.

In the sea of awes, his laughter floated on the surface.

You sprinted on the hall, navigating through the winding routes of the structures, and arrived at one of the most exquisite auditoriums you had ever set eyes on. Your eyes took in the magnificent chandeliers and the divine paintings stretched across the ceiling.

The sound of a throat clearing pulled you from your stupor.

“Are you just going to stand there?” a voice called for your attention to where he stood near the stage. The man basked in the warm glow of the concert hall, skin as though molten caramel, and eyes like embers.

“Oh, forgive me, sir.” You straightened yourself up like a soldier before a superior. “I was just, well, this place is beautiful.” You couldn’t help but glance around once again.

“Isn’t it?” A soft smile crawled its way to his lips and he approached you. “I am Mr. Garrick and you are . . .” your name rolled out of his tongue like a serenade, gentle to the ears, a sight to see the way his lips moved, and he extended a hand to you.

You clasped it gently before realization dawned on you. “Pardon me, Garrick as in the Kyle Garrick?”

In a flash of a moment, something sparkled in his eyes and searched yours. “Yes, it is me.”

You nearly squealed and ran around the room in excitement. “Oh my God. Wow. I-I’m a huge fan, sir. You were such a huge inspiration to me—and, and, I wished I could have watched your performance at the concert before, but I was busy preparing for mine. Oh, that must be why Mr. Price, Mr. Riley, and Mr. MacTavish were there! You are friends!” Your words tumbled out of delight.

"Yes, well, thank you for the kind words." His hand sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, his smile becoming wider.

You gazed at him for a few moments before you snapped out of it, your brain slapping it to your face that you just rambled in front of this gentleman. "I'm very sorry, that was unprofessional of me."

"No need for apologies. But I do want to get a feel of your play today as soon as possible." A hand landed on your back, his warmth slipping through the fabric as he led you towards the grand piano patiently waiting for you at the stage.

Your fingers itched in anticipation.

Sir Garrick gave you a comforting smile and sat on the front row seat. "Feel free to play whatever your heart desires."

What your heart desires.

With a shaky breath, once again, you began to tell a tale, the notes sounding like a human voice as it wove its sonorous song.

A ballad to tie what dream your heart made. An andante at first and increased tempo at each heartbeat.

Lightning striking and thunder howling, Kyle was consumed with the way you swayed from one note to another. He couldn't peel his eyes off you as though you had him in your grasp, a puppet for you to control. And only when the last of the music hung in the air, could he snap free of the strings.

He walked towards you and dropped to his knee, taking one of your hands in his palm. "You were truly astonishing."

"I'm telling you, she was marvelous," Kyle exclaimed, pacing around Price's office and pointing at his fellow professors. "Blimey, if only you guys were there the other day, you'd feel chills."

Simon kept a straight face as he sat on the couch, legs spread, his knees bumping with Johnny who took a seat beside him, sipping from his mug of coffee. Whilst, Jonathan inclined on his chair behind a mahogany desk, decorated with intricate carvings and souvenirs he had gathered as they traveled across continents.

"I get that you're delighted, but could you quiet down?" Price grumbled on his desk, a pang of pain shooting his head.

"No, I am not shutting up." Kyle raised a hand, shaking his head. "She recognized my name. My name.” He pointed at himself.

“Anyone would recognize your name if they’re yer fan or hater,” Johnny quipped and placed the mug down on the coffee table.

Kyle turned to him. “You don’t get it, mate. She said she’s a fan of mine. I was a huge inspiration to her—”

“Was a huge inspiration to her,” Simon echoed, leaning back against the couch. “Used to be, not anymore.”

Kyle glared and stomped towards the masked man, grabbing his collar when the other merely raised his brows in a challenge. “I swear to God, Simon, I swear to—”

“I swear to God if you three don’t shut the fuck up—” Price paused, straightening himself from his chair as Kyle shook Simon, and glared at them— “I’ll have you asinine blokes chopped into bits!”

Kyle let go of Simon, who simply fixed his crooked collar and tie, and raised a brow at the man behind the desk. He sat down on a vacant chair, his eyes not leaving Price, and asked, “Are you jealous she recognized me, Price?” he was answered with another glare, which he shrugged at. “Or not.” He definitely is.

For a few moments, they sat in silence, each lost in their train of thought. All centered on a certain lady, whom they had watched from afar, now within their grasp. They only acted as though it was their first time meeting you.

Each born to a wealthy family, presented interesting things which soon died down as they broke them down into pieces, they had grown bored. And had found that there were only a few they could put their trust in this world. Though not related by blood, they shared everything since they were younger. They knew one another strengths and weaknesses. Their faults. Their passions.

Their desires.

A knock pulled them out of their reveries.

Johnny being the closest to the door, got up and opened it. A smile was brought to his face as he found you. “Hello, bonnie. C’mon in.” He swung the door open, a hand motioning at you.

You hesitantly stepped in as you saw your professors inside the office, eyes all settled on you. You put a hand on your other arm to hold down your nervousness as the door behind you shut.

Four men who were strangely overly friendly to you. You could think of a couple of reasons. The first being a musician they had watched and the second, being their student.

A hand landed on the small of your back, guiding you further in, making your face flush. “Have a seat,” Sir MacTavish waved a hand at the sofa, where he and Simon sat.

You kept your gaze low as you obeyed him, sitting between him and your math professor, red cheeks going in a deeper shade as you met Kyle’s gaze. Embarrassed, you finally faced Price, and asked, “What is it that you called me for, Professor?”

Price put his elbows over his desk and intertwined his fingers. “We have a proposition for you . . .” Your name rolled sensually out of his tongue.

The proposition was to be their assistant. Given their overlapping schedules these days, it was hard for them to handle them. At first, you refused the offer, telling them you had a part-time job to do, along with practicing your skills in piano. But they had already thought about that and said they could pay you for your work.

A tempting proposal. Perfect for a student like you who got into this prestigious school through a scholarship.

You tapped your pen on the table and heaved a sound sigh, slouching on the chair. You were in a cafe near the school, in an attempt to change the atmosphere and help you write a report for Sir MacTavish's and Sir Price’s classes, but it didn’t seem to be helping at the moment. A pleasant music came from your earphones to block out the background noises and you closed your eyes to lull yourself.

When you opened your eyes, you jolted up your seat. “Shit!” your hands immediately flew to your potty mouth and straightened your spine at the sight of one of your professors, Simon, across the table. “Ah, uh, I’m very sorry, sir. I didn’t notice you—”

“Why do you apologize so often?” his rough voice was low and he placed a cup of tea on the table. His eyes landed on your notebook, full of notes, written clean as though it was printed.

You pursed your lips, unable to think of an answer, and ran your tongue over the soft flesh, catching Simon’s attention. “I . . .”

Simon glanced around the empty cafe, the only other person within the area was the staff over the counter, who kept her eyes on her phone. And you had perfectly picked a secluded spot. He looked back at you and reached out a hand, placing it under your chin. He lifted your face to bring your eyes to his.

Your heart raced at his actions.

“An angel as brilliant as you are should carry yourself with confidence, sweetheart.” His thumb caressed your lips. “Perhaps, we could teach you that.”

Your lips parted at his touch, warmth pooling at your stomach. You knew this was strange—wrong, and yet you didn’t want him to stop.

But he let go and leaned back, and you found yourself gripping on your thigh. “Have you thought of our proposal last week?”

You nodded, clearing your throat. “I have, sir.”

“What do you say?”

“The offer is good, and I don’t think it will clash with my schedule under normal circumstances, either.” You paused, letting him wait for your answer as you gazed into his caramel eyes. “I’ll take it, professor.”

You were fond of puzzles. You were interested in mysteries. And you were drawn to danger.

Being their assistant had more perks than you initially thought it was. You talked with them about their terms and added some of yours, and they seemed to be pretty considerate about it.

Maybe, a bit too much.

You had moved to an apartment they got you, so you wouldn’t be distracted by your roommates. When you had breaks, they would call you to their offices and give you desserts and snacks.

And more often than not, their touches lingered, turning into hugs, caressing, and pinching when in private. To close, seemingly the start of a taboo, a risk, and yet when Professor Price had you pinned between him and Professor Garrick in his office one late night when most of the people at school had gone home, you didn't want them to stop.

You wanted the heat to rush over you, like a forest fire, unwavering.

Didn't pull back when he planted his lips on you. Didn't stop the very professor you looked up to as a musician to bunch up your skirt and grind his dick against your ass. Didn't stop even when the other two entered and Sir Price had his hand rubbing against your clothed cunt. Didn't stop when Professor Riley locked the door behind him as Sir Mactavish joined in.

Johnny’s snaked a hand around your waist, a bit harsher than the ones he’d always done, but you didn’t mind it. Not when his lips were gentle against yours, patient and exploring as he led you on his lap when he sat on your couch, stealing you from Price and Garrick. He drank on your gasp as you felt another pair of lips on your nape, dusting kisses along your flesh.

Simon breathed against your shoulder, hand grasping the swell of your breast and performed maddening massage that got your nipples pebbling under the fabric of your top. You flinched when he took them by fingers, the rolls languid, and shifted on the other man’s lap as you felt a poke underneath.

Johnny groaned against you, parting the breathtaking kiss. He removed you from his lap, only to turn you against him, now facing the professor who had shed his mask. His fingers dipped under the band of your panties, into your untouched bud and your wet folds. He rubbed with a hum, spreading your filth.

“You're so wet, hen,” he commented and inserted a digit, rubbing it against your slick walls.

Your teeth sunk to your lower lip, biting back a squeal at the sudden intrusion.

Simon placed his fingers under your chin and leaned down on you, his tongue running over your lips, something he had always wanted to do before. “Don't bite your lips. That's something we're supposed to do, yeah?” He whispered on your lips and explored your mouth, savoring the echoes of your pleasure, and left to plant his marks on your collarbones. Hands gathered your shirt and lifted it, exposing your chest to his sight.

His mouth dropped to the nipple, sucking while his hand went to work on the other.

Johnny began to pump faster, making you throw your head back to his chest, moaning out in pleasure as you shot a glance at other professors.

“You are not so innocent after all, hm?” Price took your jaw and ran his thumb over your lips, before pushing it in, muffling your cries.

“No one's that innocent nowadays, Price,” Garrick remarked, watching the frown on your face and the flutter of your lashes at every jerk of Johnny's hand made and Simon’s tongue did. His tongue ran over his lips, hand cupping over his hard-on, palming himself through his pants.

You began to suck on Price’s finger, making his dick twitch in his pants—his brain wondering how good your mouth would feel around him. He pulled his hand away to work down on his belt and pants, hands pulling out his shaft. He gave it a few pumps, chuckling when he noticed the way your tongue ran over your swollen lips before a groan escaped from it as Simon planted a bite on your neck and Johnny's thumb began to work on your clit.

Price brought his tip to your mouth. “Open up, dove,” he demanded and grunted as he pushed his shaft in, breath hitching at the warm feeling of your tongue and your throat. Your face twisted a bit at the taste of his precum. He let you adjust for a couple of seconds, hand going to the back of your head before he began to thrust.

One of your hands flew to hold onto his hip as you let him use your mouth, eyes fluttering closed and focusing on breathing through your nose. Out of the blue, Johnny pulled his fingers out and Simon stepped away, eliciting a whine from you. Vibrations ran down Price’s body and he groaned.

Unbuckling of belts echoed in the air, and you were pulled away from Price, making him curse. The next thing you knew, you were staring into the eyes of the man you had admired for so long.

“Sir—”

Kyle put his thumb over your lips, cutting off your words. “Not sir. Call me Kyle.” He positioned his cock under your cunt, rubbing the tip on your entrance.

You gasped at the sensation. “Kyle . . .” Your jaw slacked as he slowly went in, hands pulling you closer to his clothed body, fingers running on your flesh, gentle just as how he played his instruments.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it,” he groaned, hands sliding down to your ass to guide you up and down on his length.

Now, he made music out of you.

It didn’t take a few ticks of the clock until they fucked you with all they had.

Simon’s cock was buried in the confines of your mouth, fingers tangled on your tresses, watching the curls of your lashes get soaked by the tears that rolled down on your cheeks as they relentlessly pounded on you—Kyle on your pussy, Price on your ass, and Johnny on your grasps. You had never felt so full, so complete.

You feel your legs shake—the sign you have reached the pinnacle of pleasure and exhaustion when Kyle hits the spot deep in you. You whined against Simon’s cock, groaning as beg for the overdue orgasm that they had been keeping from you.

You felt a hand slide down your thigh, finding your swollen clit, before the rough pads of the fingers rubbed aguishly gentle and slow. If they weren’t your professors, you would have cursed at whoever the one was doing it. But your wish had been heard and he picked up the pace until you were crying, arching your back.

But they weren’t done.

You felt Kyle and Price become rougher at each of their thrust, Simon tugging on your hair harder, and Johnny losing his rhythm on your hands, until they all pulled back, coating your skin with their cum.

You slumped on Kyle’s chest, limbs like a stringless puppet as you ride out the aftermath of your orgasm. Your heavy lids fell close, tired from the deed, but you fought back the drowsiness, not wanting to fall asleep in the state you were in.

“You did good, love,” Kyle cooed into your ear and planted a soft kiss on your temple.

Johnny leaned down and pressed a kiss on your shoulder. “Yer amazing, bonnie. Can’t wait to have more of ya.”

A hand caressed your flushed cheek, swiping the transparent mix of tears and sweat. “Let’s bring you back to your apartment, dove,” Price said in a gentle voice.

Gentle fingers scraped your scalp, gaining a hum from you, must be Simon with how his fingers feel on your head. An unspoken apology about the way he tugged on your locks.

Like the sky glowing, your skin glittered in the ruins they drew up. A masterpiece you were, vulnerable, vincible in their sight, like walls that had fallen. And yet as though a book which held thousands of words, they still had more things to know about you.

Like every start of a relationship. How fortresses were made. Each beginning of a story.

You basked in the echoes of their praise, letting their words bring you comfort and slowly help you regain your mind and strength.

Like after a fire, new maps were drawn. A new tale was written, with them, who swallowed a star.

Taglist: @itsyellow

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blueparadis · 4 months

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~ :: ❛Electric Love ❜ :: ୨ content + warnings ୧ ~ f!reader, 3sum, dub-con, [un]protected sex, oral acts, use of pet names, specified tags with synopsis for each pairing utc, hc format; absolute filth that i havn't been able to get out of my mind. mdni & support banners by @/hitobaby· ʚ tag index. ɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

neuvillette + zhongli // syn : Two dragons who wandered the earth with certain purpose, stumbled upon a villager girl whose fate turned upside down when they laid eyes on her. // monsterfvcking, dubcon, double penetration.

If you had known that kindness would have you ended up being captured, chained and caged in a cave you would have never offered food and refuge to those young men. During days you were free to go anywhere and at night they would visit you, Zhongli and Neuvillette would talk and dine with you. And when the starts would bloom in the night sky they would slowly warm up to you, get cozy and handsy with you. Their touch definately had something, something boderly human yet compltely inhuman. Once, out of curiosity you tried to runaway, but ended up getting lost because everywhere you looked there were just vast stretches of forest whichever way you chose to go. Besides, if you wandered too far away from the cave the blue dragon would always bring you back to their nest.

At night, during the dark Zhongli would cover your eyes for a second with his hand and when he removed them all you witnessed was darkness. you can only feel them, the inhuman side of such affection. every time they visit you for mating, they would deprive you of your vision. You could feel their cool slippery skin against yours, long and powerful tongue licking your skin, sharp fangs digging your skin and marking you in your most intimate parts: inbetween your things, around your boobs, on your butt, and sometimes calf muscles. And when it is all over, you would wake up to a nest made of scales of different colors, but mainly blue and yellow, glowing in the dark, during the night providing you both warmth and light. But they never properly mated with you. It always ended up with overstimulating themselves with you; until that night when full moon shone at one starry night.

At that night, they did not blindfold you. Zhongli had your back against his chest as his golden-brown tail kept you in place, his hand toyed with your nipples while Neuvillette became busy in between your legs, his tail moving ocassionally as he slurped your juices. This is the first time your eyes are witnessing their inhuman form: to see them in this way after so many days was overwhelming and astonishing but not rebuking: all the while you could only feel them. You extended your hands to touch Neuvillette head but Zhongli grabbed both of your arms by the wrists. "Look at me, bunny." he commands, also gaining Neuvillette's attention. They share a moment of eye contact as he pulled you up, his cock nudging your entrance.

Neuvillette partly standing, on his knees, scooted closer speading your legs and pushing his cock inside you. His large, predatory hands that exhibitted so much strenght started touching your boobs so gently and so slowly. He has been playing with your tits for a while; your nipples are starting to itch and ache. His tongue wets his bottom lip as he twists and turns your taut nipples but he gives in finally. He hunches down to reach down to your boobs to suckle and mark them, like he usually does. Zhongli silences your moans and whines as he starts to buck his hips against yours.

Its wild how their cocks are grazing against each other inside of you as you slowly lose your vision. you can feel them being close, the cave being slowly full of echos of growls and moans, squelching of skins and low dragon squeals. You recognize the venus in the sky for a second. their wings flap open when the knot inside of you tightens, and a gush of cum leaks from between the skins when all of you climax together. They huff and pant, their cocks still throbbing inside you so does your body as they wait for their knot to slowly unwind. You are entirely covered by their wings, the scales from their body start to peel off and deposit to form a nest. They share a look before digging their fangs into your neck, both of them marking your neck, simultaneoulsy as you lull into deep slumber.

Next morning, you woke up naked, both of them curled up on either side of you. This is the first time they had spent the night as well as made it till dawn, their scales covering certain parts of your body and a stinging pain on both sides of your neck. Now you know they truly belong to you and only you, a sense of protection fills your heart as you run your hands over the both sides of your neck. An act of kindness that promised protection in return from any peril that your fate had to follow. What a gift! What a blessing life is!

kaeya + dainsleif // syn : In the absence of the owner of Dawn Winery, Kaeya offers special services to the Bough Keeper, Dainselif // nipple stimulation, spit k!nk, voyeur!kaeya, exhibitionist!dansleif.

The moon smiles brightly along with the sparkling stars adorning the night sky. Lord Diluc has already left The Dawn Winery around evening properly telling you the instructions and procedures for each and every little thing. On top of that, he has given you the privilege to ask Kaeya for help if you need. The clock has struck midnight an hour ago yet Kaeya has been sitting in the same seat when he first turned up late in the evening, his eyes moving along with you as you work. If only Lord Diluc knew what Kaeya has been up to behind his back, then he would not have informed his brother about his absence tonight.

Taking off your apron as you turn around you are met by a drunk Kaeya up close, standing inches away from your body. “Darling, why are you in such a hurry?” He chins up your face to meet your gaze. “You weren't in such haste while working though. . .” As he trails he takes a sip from the wine bottle before inclining towards you.

“Lord Kaeya please, not here.” you whine but all he does is to pout, squeeze your cheeks. It is not like he has not fucked you before. He did. Multiple times in multiple positions. Sometimes those memories ravage through your mind whenever he shows up during work, gets you worked up; your hopes too and then leaves. He keeps the bottle on the slab behind you and slips his hand under your skirt.

As he pushes aside your panty, his squeeze onto your cheeks becomes stronger forcing your mouth open. “Lord Kaeya,mmm-mgh”

He lets a drop of spit mixed with wine drop into your mouth, eyes never leaving your before finally sucking your lips. A little wine spills through the corner of your mouth as his arms rests against the slab caging you in but it does not stay there much longer. You grab onto his collar returning the favour, tongue dancing against eachother as his hands squeezed your ass cheeks. You can feel yourself getting wet, nipples getting taut and tight, Kaeya’s lips has moved onto your neckline to your chest. He tears off your blouse spilling your breasts in the air. You quickly sit on the slab wrapping your arms around his neck but he continues teasing you by kissing over your neck, chest and around the nipples; and suddenly a chime freezes your heart.

A customer. Lord Diluc did mention a special guest would turn up after midnight which why you were being a dilly dally while working. A cresent blossoms over Kaeya’s face. His crotch is pressed against your feminity while you cling onto him out of shame, out of concern for being seen. He has not moved an inch since the customer stepped in

“we're already closed but I think we can offer special services.” He takes the bottle of wine and pours it over chest. “What do you think, Dainsleif?”

The customer approaches you slowly, one step at a time his eyes watch the crimson fluid stain your dress, drip down to your tummy. Kaeya licks off the wine from your chest, your cleavage still remains stained with red. The customer wipes off some of the wine running his index finger from your tummy up to your cleavage.

Lord Dainsleif is not an old customer of the master of Dawn Winery but he is a new customer to you. If anything you two shared was some accidental glances in past and now you two are going to share same air. The thought makes you welp.

“Not bad,” Dainsleif exclaims tasting the wine from his index-fingertip. His legs fold, knees touch the ground as Kaeya holds up your skirt for him. You still do not move, neither bother yo cover yourself up, but only look at Kaeya. “Tsk, focus.” he says before taking one of your nipples in his mouth and suckling hard enough make you bite your bottom lip as Dainsleif licks your pussy clean of wine.

Kaeya holds your hand, fingers interlaced as he watched Dainsleif eat you out. “C’mon darling, spread your legs. It would be rude to not to offer Mondstat hospitality to our guest, hmmm, don't you think?” Kaeya exclaims watching your eyes begging more of him as Dainsleif gets himself drunk on you. The night feels incredibly warm despite cold gusts of winter striking the city. The moonlight vanishes as the cluster of clouds shrouds the moon, enveloping g the stars; even such natural harbinger of time can not seem to bear such obscenity.

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fieldofdaisiies · 4 months

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Scars Like Mine

“Where did you get those from?”

Azriel startles, both at the little voice talking to him and the soft touch against his hand. It is featherlight, almost like a gust of wind and feels so odd in a place like this. In front of him, is the barren landscape of the Illyrian mountains, around him the eerie war camp, frigid and somber.

The shadowsinger’s gaze drops immediately and he‘s met with big, brown eyes that belong to a tiny girl, barely reaching to his knee. Her wings are tightly tucked in. She is wearing a dark blue wool hat that has a few holes in it, and a jacket that looks far too big for her small frame.

Shock runs deep the moment he sees that half her face and also the exposed part of her neck is marred by scars, very similar to those on his hands. But despite those scars, there is a smile on her lips. One that seems so bright within the darkness of this camp.

Azriel’s throat is all of a sudden so dry and constricts when he wants to talk. A cold shiver curls around his spine, and his knees tremble. What could have possibly been done to her? Where did she get the scars from?

Finally he crouches down, his hand still in the hold of the little Illyrian girl. He is nearly on eye level with her when his lips part to say something, anything, but she beats him to it.

“From fire?” Her eyes open wider, and curiosity sparks within the deep chocolate brown. Her lower lip, though, trembles slightly. “Like mine?”

Slowly, Azriel’s chin dips, his chest squeezing and his heart beating in a sad rhythm. He has accepted so, but hearing it out loud hurt. He feels tremendously bad for every child who had to experience a similar fate to what he had to go through and telling by the amount of scars she has on her body, the fire she had to face wasn’t a small one.

“Do they still hurt?” She flips Azriel’s hand in hers, the back of it exposed now, and trails her little index finger over one particularly bad and deep scar.

“Not that much,” Azriel says in a calm, soft voice. “Only in winter when my hands are so dry.” He smiles at her and the little girl nods, a pensive look on her face.

“Mine do too,” she finally says after a moment. “You need to put cream on them. My mummy always puts cream on my skin. I can ask her if she can help you, too?” Her smile widens a little, her eyes looking so hopefully that tears brim Azriel’s.

But the mention of her mummy—Azriel suddenly realises that the girl is all alone, in the middle of the war camp.

“Where is your mother? Why are you here all alone?”

A cold breeze blows through the war camp, and Azriel notices that other than a few Illyrian brutes the little girl is completely alone (now with him, and he would of course protect her, but otherwise she is alone).

“Mummy picks up our laundry. I am waiting for her here. She is right in there.” Using her index finger, she points at the building behind Azriel and a breath of relief leaves the shadowsinger.

Thank the Cauldron, she isn’t alone and her mother is close. Azriel’s tense shoulders visible relax, wings slouching to the ground.

The little girl drops his hand and looks at him in shock, eyes wide open, lips parted. “Careful!” she cautions. “Never drag them over the ground, there are pebbles and stones, you might get hurt.”

This is all it needed for a single tear to break the damn and slide out of his eye. Azriel releases a shuddering breath and says, “Oh thank you so much for the warning.” He quickly tucks in his wings, straightens up and smiles at her.

It is most definitely something her mummy has told her, and Azriel has to smile at the thought. A mother who truly looks after her child…

“She taught me how to fly when no one would,” the girl tells Azriel. “They thought I couldn’t fly with my crippled wing.” She lifts her right wing to show it to Azriel, the thin black membrane also adorned with the same scars that grace her skin.

Azriel swallows thickly, his jaw clenching so hard it almost hurts. “But I‘m sure you proved them wrong.”

The corners of her mouth lift. “I did. I can actually fly really well.” A joyful grin spreads over her face and a kernel of pride blooms in Azriel’s chest — of course she can and of course she showed all the Illyrian fuckers that despite her wing being marred by scars it doesn’t stop her from flying.

“Do you like flying?” he asks, still in his crouched position but now with his wings neatly tucked in behind his broad shoulders.

The girl shrugs and then inhales deeply. “I like it, but I‘m often not allowed to. Only when mummy has time.”

That makes sense. She is very young and letting her fly alone would be much too risky. Azriel nods slowly and braces his hands on his thighs. He makes a mental note to buy cream, although the mention of someone else taking care of his hands sounded so very wonderful. But obviously he could never accept that offer.

“What is your name?” the little Illyrian asks and brings Azriel back to the moment.

“Azriel,” he answers and likes that here in Illyria where somehow everyone knows him, she doesn’t know who he is.

“I like this name.” She smiles and bounces on her toes, reaching for a shadow that curls towards her. “Do they have a name as well?”

Azriel has to chuckle at that. She is incredibly adorable and somehow talking to her, and her treating him like any other person and not showing a hint of fear, does something to his heart. And to his eyes. He clears his throat and says, “Unfortunately not. They are just my shadows.”

One of them now curls around her finger and it makes her giggle.

Azriel‘s gaze drops to her shoes. They seem a little too small and old and dirty. One is not fully intact, and it makes him sad.

Quickly, he asks, “But, do you have a name?” in order to not overthink why she might be wearing those old shoes. It would break his heart.

“Of course, I do. My name is—”

“Elia!” A female voice calls and Azriel looks over his shoulder and is met with a female of beauty he has never seen before. You drop the basket with laundry you have held before and run towards him and Elia.

There is terror in your voice, and horror etched upon your features and Azriel quickly straightens up. He lifts his hands but you completely ignore him. All your attention on the little girl. “Elia! I told you to stay close to the building!”

You are so scared. So incredibly worried and terrified and Azriel’s shadows sense it, tell him.

“I don’t mean any harm or danger—”

“I don’t care. She isn’t supposed to talk to any Illyrian brute!” you snap and finally meet his gaze, your arm sliding around your little girl’s shoulders, pulling her to you.

You have never seen a male of such beauty before and— he is the High Lord’s shadowsinger. But that doesn’t matter. After everything that has happened to you —to her— you can’t risk anything. Never, ever again. What has been done to you in Ironcrest—

Your breath catches, but before either of you can say anything, Elia opens her mouth. “He has scars like me, mummy.”

Your stomach could, and your throat works around a swallow. “I am very sorry to hear that,” you finally say and your gaze brushes his again. A cold smile is on his face, but other than that there is just empathy. No hint of cruelty, or

“He also got them from fire,” Elia adds and looks up at you with her big brown eyes, her lips pouted. “Just like me, mummy.”

“Oh baby.” You brush your hand over her head and then turn to address Azriel again. “I’m sorry that this happened to you as well. And I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. Thank you for keeping her safe while I was gone.”

Azrirl bows his head. He technically didn‘t do anything, Azriel thinks and says, “Nothing to thank me for.”

“But there is.” The sincerity within his eyes is proof enough that you really mean and he can sense your gratitude. After what has probably happened to your little girl, no risk could be taken.

“Do you want to have dinner with us, Azriel?”

“Elia!” you reprimand with a chuckle. She and her big mouth. But she is so joyful and so hopeful and seeing your little daughter happy is the greatest gift the Mother could ever give you. She has finally met someone with scars like hers, and you would love to invite him, solely to thank him for looking after her while you were inside the laundry place.

He didn’t mean any harm and was kind to her which is a rarity for Illyrian males up here.

But he works for the High Lord, you doubt he has time for such mundane things as having dinner with you and your daughter.

“I’m sorry, she is always so straightforward. I would love to invite you to have dinner with us to thank you looking after her, but I totally understand if you are too busy and don’t have time to– ”

“I would love to have dinner with you. Only if it is alright for you, of course,” Azriel interrupts you and smiles a little sheepishly. “But there is absolutely nothing to thank me for. I didn’t do anything.”

Still holding onto your daughter, you step a little closer to him, gaze honest and sincere when it locks with his. “You did. You made her feel protected and safe. She wouldn’t have talked to you otherwise.” You swallow, and mean every word you say. It is the truth. “And you made her smile and I will forever thank anyone who does so.” Reaching out, you grab his hand and squeeze it lightly.

What has been done to her can never ever be changed again, but every day forward and every little smile on her face, cures a little bit of the pain. And whoever helps you two in going forward and bringing her happiness, has a place within your heart.

Azriel now also closes his fingers, naturally curling them around your hand. He wants to say something, anything, just so he can look at you a little longer without making it seem weird. But he doesn’t have to say anything, Elia does the job for him.

“And after dinner, you have to put my cream on his hands as well. Azriel told me that in winter his scars also hurt a lot.”

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“Don’t, please, I can do that.” Your cheeks flush again at his closeness and how helpful he is. You are not used to behaviour like this from other Illyrian males and so you appreciate it greatly.

Azriel places the plates in the sink and smiles at you. “Please, allow me to help you.” Lastly, he collects Elia’s empty glass, leaving yours and his own on the table, both still filled with a bit of wine. When everything is in the sink he collects a cloth and cleans the table.

Dinner was wonderful and Elia asked Azriel many questions about his scars but also his shadows and if he likes to fly and what he likes most about flying. He answered each one of her questions, making your heart thrum happily within your chest.

You know he didn’t tell her the real story about his scars, having seen the look in his eyes. Despite being grateful for it for sparing her the worst details, your stomach has been twisting and coiling since he started with his story. What could have possibly happened to him?

Elia didn’t want to go to bed when it was time for her (actually she stayed up even an hour longer than she is used to, but you allowed her to do so, loving how she thrived in Azriel’s presence, finally having met someone who shares the same past with fire as she does.

She was almost asleep at the table, chin resting on her hand when you picked her up, cradled her to her chest. “Good night, Azriel, and thank you for sharing your story with me,” she said to the shadowsinger and smiled at him.

Azriel said her in return, “Thank you for inviting me to dinner and remember all these scars are just proof of how strong you are.” This brought tears to your eyes.

By the time you reached her room and laid her down she was already asleep.

He sits down at the table again and you claim the spot beside him, a shy smile on your lips and a small jar of cream for his scars in your hands.

“We are not from here actually,” you start and loose a long breath, lifting your eyes to meet his hazle ones. “Elia and I come from Ironcrest. After the fire, we fled. Ironcrest was no longer safe for us. My…my ex-husband wanted us gone, thinking I betrayed him and that Elia was not from him. It was utter bullshit, I would have never cheated on him, but his mind told him other things.”

Your throat constricts as the memories replay in your mind and a shuddering breath leaves you. You close your eyes for a second and suddenly feel a soft touch against your hand.

“You continue when you are ready,” Azriel whispers, his hand gently placed upon yours. Your lids flicker open and with a look full of gratitude, you meet his eyes and slowly bow your head.

“Elia had to pay the price for it. I collected some last things for our departure when he set our house on fire. She wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t there fast enough. When I returned I saw the massive flames. It is all I can remember, and Elia’s cries. How she sobbed and wailed and how I held her and dragged her outside. And I–”

“But you were.” He squeezes your hand. “She wouldn’t be here today, if you had been too late. There is no blame on you. She got out of the fire before it was too late. You saved her. You, alone as a young Illyrian female, fled the camp and came here to give her a better life.”

His words…

Tears run out of your eyes and you flip your hand over, cradling it tightly and then lifting it. You bring his hand to your lips and kiss his knuckles. “No one has ever made me see the past like this. I’ve always blamed myself.” You swallow around the ache in your throat, tears tasting salty on your lips. “I should have stayed with her. Not left her alone.”

“You can’t always expect the worst and you arrived there in time,” Azriel breathes, stroking his thumb over the back of your hand, his own eyes glassy, tears visible in the corners of them. “You did all you could, and do so every day. Don’t be so hard on yourself, I know you are a great mother.”

Gratitude fills every fibre of your body, and through your tears you smile at him. “Thank you, and please,” –you have to chuckle– “this time just allow him to thank you.”

He dips his chin, the shadows around him that have been calm before, now swirling quite vividly around their owner.

Azriel reaches out the hand that is not held by yours, and uses his thumb to brush away some tears and then tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You are allowed to thank me, but only if I am allowed to say that Elia most definitely has the best mother in all of Prythian.”

You close your eyes when new tears start to bubble up. You want to shake your head at him, but his palm is placed against your cheek, his thumb stroking over the damp skin.

“And most definitely also the most beautiful mother in the entire world.” His smile brightens and there is so much honesty within his eyes, you really believe him that he means it. It does something to your heart and to your soul, starting to glow deep within your chest.

Your cheeks heat, probably also turning bright red and so you need to change the topic.

“Now let me take care of your hands.” You let go of one of his hands so you can reach for the small jar. Azriel also lowers his own hand, humming in approval.

“And while you do so, maybe you want to tell me the real story of what happened to them?”

Sadness and pain passes over his face replacing the former lightness. He says nothing for a long moment. You give him time, the same he gave you before, and unscrew the jar, scooping up a bit of the cool cream with two fingers.

Gently, you apply it to the back of his hand, softly starting to apply it to the rough surface.

“My step-brothers thought it would be interesting to test my Illyrian healing powers. They held me, poured oil over my hands and set them on fire. When my father’s warriors arrived, it was already too late, the damage has been done.”

Shock knocks the breath from you. How could people be so cruel? How could your own family do something like this?

“I am so sorry.”

“It is alright,” he whispers. Azriel enjoys the soft touch of your hands and what you do to him too much to allow himself to dwell on past memories and those haunting experiences. He wants to revel in the feeling of your hands on his forever.

“But it isn’t,” you insist. “It never is. I hope they paid for it?” You lift your gaze to meet his, and move on to his other hand, gently taking it into yours while beginning to work a bit of the leftover cream into his skin before scooping up some more.

“They did,” he assures you and releases a long sigh, visibly relaxing in his chair. “Your hands work wonders.”

A little giggle leaves you, letting your fingers glide over his, intertwining them for a split second. “I assume you need to come here more often then?”

“Is this an invitation?” With a small smirk on his lips, Azriel raises his brow at you.

“I’m sure Elia would appreciate it greatly.” You smile at him.

Azriel leans forward a bit and your breath catches, heart hammering against your ribcage. For most part of your life, you have feared males, avoided them like the plague except for the male you one day had to marry but who is now your ex-husband. It is different with Azriel. You like being near him despite not even really knowing him. But you like to be in his presence, to talk to him, to touch him. It is something new, and something that surprises you but it is a welcome feeling. You like it. And he even has the bonus that also Elia likes him and feels safe and secure in his presence.

“And her mother?” Azriel says in a voice that is an octave lower, almost like a velvety brush against your skin. “Would she like to see me again?”

You grin at him, some tears having dried on your cheeks by now. “She would love to see you again.”

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#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar #acosf

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