#of keeping the door ajar and lights in the hallway (which i had to fucking advocate for btw)

[anaalnathrakhs]

...i'm starting to wonder if i wasn't actually pretty often failed by the adults in my life as a young kid tbh.

#i'm always doubtful where to put the blame #in a morally neutral causality kind of way to be clear #because like. i dont know. if i was the adult. confronted to the opaque behavior of a child. would i have done better? #but also i can't help but think #why the fuck did they make me skip a grade (last grade of primary on top of that) when i was notorious for never doing my homework #and was incredibly inconsistent across topics #like i sucked at math. like ''needs to count on fingers to do a simple addition or substraction'' sucking at math. #like i never learned any multiplication tables sucking at math #like i never got how to pose divisions and still can't at age 18 because logicomathematics are completely counterintuitive to me #and just. the work was never done to make me Get It. my work or teachers' work who knows. but perhaps skipping a grade wasnt the solution #or like #apparently when i was three years old the pediatrician suspected smth was up with me #either autism directly or ''generally suspicious child'' we're not clear on that #but he told my parents. and everybody said ''we better test that'' and then. nothing. idk. #they filled a parental report of behaviors questionnaire for... adhd i think? autism maybe. and that's it. never fucking heard about it. #god. i just remembered my mom saying proudly they almost never put me in the nursery as a kid. #always either with a parent or family or a nanny. #and perhaps mother. you could have foreseen that a kid with no siblings no pets no kid neighbors no playdates. would end up socially fucked #i remember the teachers scolding late students and showing us that we were supposed to be in bed by 9:30 or something #and internally i was like BUDDY AT 9PM WE'RE HALFWAY THROUGH DINNER #MOM'S BEEN HOME FOR LESS THAN AN HOUR #and shit. i don't know. i was scared of the dark as a child. to the point that even with the compromise #of keeping the door ajar and lights in the hallway (which i had to fucking advocate for btw) #i still slept curled up in the bathroom on a towel sometimes when it got too scary #and i would cry and scream before going to bed. i would beg my mom for sleeping pills from a young age. #i would often find myself in the morning sleeping with my face smushed between the pages of the book i literally fell asleep on #because i read until my eyes gave out #and a couple years later when i got a 3ds i'd play at night and if my dad caught me he'd storm into my room and i'd hide under the comforte #and he'd punch a couple times and whisper-yell at me not to do that and go to sleep #it took until i was about 15yo for me to see a sleep specialist

[honeybeefae]

Shadows of Fire (Azriel x Reader x Eris)

Summary// You stumbled upon something that you should have never seen, something that would send two courts of Pyrthian into chaos if made public. After a week of trying to forget, the two men cornered you, leaving you nowhere to run even if you wanted. However, deep down inside, did you?

(Azris is like my OTP and writing this was SO fun. I love this idea of a reader sandwich and I cannot lie I have fantasized about this exact scenario multiple times. Enjoy this 4,600 smut fic! I hope you guys like it!)

WARNINGS: Smut, Threesome, Bondage, Edging, Orgasm Denial, MMF, Spitting

By the time you arrived back at your shared apartment, it was late. You weren’t even meant to be there tonight but the date you had planned went up in smoke. He was cocky and rude, staring at your breasts for most of the night while the rest was spent bragging about the women he slept with. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to him when you declined his invitation to go home with him but by the look on his face, he seemed shocked his moves hadn’t made you putty in his hands. You had to refrain from rolling your eyes when he sneered at you, storming off like a child.

Good riddance.

Your roommate, Azriel, had plans tonight and you hoped you wouldn’t be interrupted as you unlocked the door quietly. His late-night rendezvous often left at this time so your fingers were crossed that you wouldn’t walk in on something that would make your eyes bleed.

And it wasn’t that you thought he was unattractive. Anyone with two eyes could see that he was, with tan skin and a lean frame. Black tattoos covered his body which only added to his dangerous vibe not even counting the wings. You weren’t stupid enough to deny the attraction.

However, you also weren’t stupid enough to jeopardize a friendship for a fuck that could only end badly. Azriel didn’t “do” relationships and you had heard more than one girl leave angrily when he denied them the night. No matter how badly you might want to have sex with him you were not going to give in to the temptation.

The floor creaked under your bare feet as you gingerly walked down the hallway, keeping your eyes ahead as you strained to hear any noises. You cursed under your breath when you heard soft moans and grunts coming from his room, the smell of sex increasing with every step you took.

You picked up your pace and prayed to the Mother they didn’t hear you, not wanting to deal with Azriel’s agitation or god forbid a jealous woman thinking you were here to steal her man. As you beelined for your room beside his you saw the door to his bedroom slightly ajar and you froze when you heard something… unexpected.

“Oh, Az,” A deep, sultry voice moaned loudly. “I always knew you couldn’t resist me.”

That voice…didn’t belong to a woman. It also didn’t belong to just any man, at least not a regular one. Thanks to your emissary duties to the Autumn Court, you knew that voice like the back of your hand. 

That voice belonged to Eris.

Surprise was an understatement for what you were feeling as your feet cemented into the floor, your dark figure looming in the doorway as you saw the two of them. There were a few candles lit around the room, giving just the right amount of light for you to see the two sworn enemies in a very interesting position. 

Azriel had Eris pinned against a wall, his wings tucked in tightly as he bit and sucked at the red-headed male’s neck. Eris had his head thrown back in ecstasy, his hands digging into the Shadowsinger’s hips as he ground down onto his clothed thigh. They were both breathing heavily, their shirtless chests already coated in sweat. You knew you needed to leave, to pretend that you never saw the two of them like this, but something about them was hypnotic.

The way their bodies moved against each other, how Azriel’s shadows caressed the neglected areas of Eris while they shucked off the rest of their clothes. It was like they were the only two in the world. A thrill went down your spine at being such a voyeur to this scene, the taboo couple adding fuel to the fire as you felt yourself grow wet.

“I might put that mouth of yours to better use, prince,” Azriel growled as he grasped Eris’s cock through his boxers, his grin feral at how he melted into his touch. “You’re only good for sucking my cock anyways. Isn’t that right?”

One of your hands flew over your mouth to conceal the moan that wanted to escape as you watched Eris nod submissively, his knees hitting the floor as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was.

Azriel fisted Eris’s hair into his hand and guided him to his cock, his nostrils flaring as he got to work. You could only see his head bobbing up and down but your mind was ready to fill in the blanks, your fingers itching to bury themselves in your needy cunt.

“Oh, fuck, Eris,” The Illyrian growled loudly, his hips pistoning in and out as he used him as his fucktoy. You watched Eris palm at his red cock, the candlelight catching the bead of precum on his tip as he readily took everything Azriel gave to him.

Your fingers were teasing the waistband of your panties before you sent them further south, rubbing your clit through your underwear. It was just the right amount of friction that had you biting your tongue to keep quiet as you watched them. 

After only a few seconds of teasing yourself, you couldn’t wait any longer and hastily pushed your panties aside to shove your fingers inside yourself. You knew it wasn’t going to be enough but you kept fucking yourself, matching your thrusts with Azriel's as their moans grew louder. 

Everything was getting too hot, too fast, and you gripped the doorway to steady yourself, freezing when it creaked under your weight.

No, no, no, no…

Both men froze and turned to look where the sound had come from, their gazes full of surprise and what looked like anger as they took in your form, your smell, and your hand down your pants. You blinked once before yanking your fingers out of your still-dripping core and running out the apartment door, slamming into an innocent person who just happened to be walking by.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry!” You spluttered as you kept running, waving a hand behind you while weaving through the streets. The night air was cold on your skin as you looked behind you, making sure you weren’t followed before you finally stopped to lean against a building. “What the fuck have I done?”

Both of your hands went up to grab the sides of your head as you looked up at the stars, shaking your head in disbelief. You had lost yourself in watching them, their passion, and not only intruded on their very personal moment but also fucked yourself while watching.

You had just ruined not one but two relationships for a stupid, lust-driven decision. Azriel would never be able to look you in the eyes again and Eris…mother above, your already shaky relationship with his court has now crumbled completely.

“I am so screwed…I might as well pack my shit up tonight.” You mumbled to yourself, trying to stop your bottom lip from quivering as your anger turned to sadness. 

“Why would you do that?” A raspy voice asked from beside you, making you jump and whip around. Your eyes widened in fear when you saw Azriel leaning casually against the wall, Truthteller twirling in his hands. “Did you see something you weren’t supposed to?”

“Azriel, I-” You tried to explain, taking a nervous step back only to bump into a solid mass. Your throat bobbed as you leaned your head back to find a smirking Eris. “Guys, listen, I am so sorry-”

“Are you though?” Eris tilted his head, grabbing your forearms roughly and spinning you around to face him. “You could have run, you could have gone to bed, but you stood there watching us…”

“With your fingers shoved in your needy little cunt.” Azriel finished for him, pushing himself off the wall to come up behind you. “What you saw tonight…it does not leave your mouth, do you understand?”

You hesitated, your entire body on high alert as you were sandwiched between the two men, and you flinched when you saw Az’s eyes darken. Before you could blink he had his scarred fingers gripping your face painfully, his nose brushing against yours as he bent down and said, “Answer me.”

“I swear on my life.” You promised quickly, eyes flickering between the two of them. “I won’t tell anyone just please let me go, please don’t hurt me.”

He held you for a moment longer before letting go, both of them stepping back as you took in much-needed air with a hand over your chest. Adrenaline was coursing through your body as you started to walk away, resisting the urge to run, until something cool wrapped around your wrist and yanked you back.

Your feet stumbled but you caught your footing before you could faceplant, looking down to see one of Azriel’s shadows holding your arm. You lifted your frantic gaze upwards only to see them both smirking devilishly.

“Do you smell that?” Azriel hummed, raising a brow towards Eris as the redheaded nodded and clicked his tongue.

“I do…it’s the same smell that was in the apartment when Y/N was fucking herself,” Eris replied. You could feel a shift in the air as they watched you with wicked delight. The sound of your heartbeat was roaring in your ears as you struggled against the shadowy binds only to gasp when a rope of fire slithered around your other arm. “Where do you think you’re going, pet?”

“The fun is just starting.” The Spymaster smiled as they both tugged you forward roughly, sending you spiraling towards them until four large hands caught you and straightened you out. “You wanted to watch us so badly. Let us put on a proper show for you.”

“No, I don’t-” You tried to protest only to shudder when you felt a pair of warm lips on the shell of your ear, the heat of the fiery bonds increasing briefly as Eris dragged a hand down the side of your body. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did and when you looked up you saw Azriel watching you with hooded eyes. 

“Are you sure about that, mouse? Look at how quickly you’re coming apart.” He snickered, cupping your face and running his thumb over your bottom lip. “We’ve barely even touched you and you look like you’re ready to burst.”

Eris continued his lazy exploration of your body while his mouth caressed your neck. Your hands were fisted at your sides as Azriel watched on, licking his lips as he slipped the pad of his thumb into your mouth. “Suck it.”

And despite all the qualms you had about this situation, about the two of them, you found yourself immediately listening to his instructions. You took the large digit and started sucking and swirling your tongue around it, the slight groan from Az’s throat only spurring you on.

“Good girl.” Eris whispered into your ear. 

Another shiver ran down your spine from his words as you closed your eyes to avoid the embarrassment of how much this was turning you on. However, Azriel seemed to want to watch how they were affecting you. Both of their bonds suddenly disappeared as you stumbled back, barely catching yourself against the wall as you glared at them.

“What the hell?” You huffed, crossing your arms before letting out a small shriek as Eris threw you over his shoulder. Your fists banged against his back while your feet kicked around but a loud, hard slap to your ass got you to still momentarily.

“Save your voice for the bedroom, pet. You’re going to need it.” He chuckled with a glance over at Azriel, the two of them nodding before you felt yourself drop into nothingness. Your stomach churned as you winnowed into Azriel’s bedroom, Eris dropping you roughly on the bed as the Spymaster swooped in from the balcony.

“I truly am sorry, more than sorry even, for invading your privacy.” You swallowed thickly, your palms sweaty. “What I did was wrong and perverted and-”

“Mother above, shut her up, Eris.” Azriel rolled his eyes, smiling when your eyes widened as a thick rope of fire tightened around your throat. It wasn’t tight enough to cut off your airway but you knew he could if he wanted. “Spare us the holier than though speech, mouse.”

“I’m just-” You tried to argue only to gasp when the fire grew hotter. Your skin starts to sweat from the heat and you realize that four more binds have wrapped around your wrists and ankles, spreading you open for the two of them. Eris also used the opportunity to burn your clothes to dust, the wind scattering it across the floor as he left you bare for them.

“You just what? You just stood there and watched as I fucked Eris’s mouth? Stood there and touched yourself to the sight of the two of us?” Azriel was now on top of you, his eyes dark and tone seductive. “Admit it, Y/N. Admit it to yourself that you enjoyed watching us. Admit that deep down inside you are nothing but a wanton whore.”

“I’m not!” You denied, frowning, only to thrash and struggle as a cloth was shoved into your mouth. “Mmm! Mphm!”

Azriel clicked his tongue while shaking his head, stepping back onto the floor and turning to Eris. “Shall we continue before we were so rudely interrupted?”

“What about her?” Eris jerked his head towards you as you still struggled against your restraints. He frowned and narrowed his eyes, the flames licking up your skin burning fiercely for a moment until you whimpered in pain. “I must admit, I’ve wanted to taste her from the moment she walked into my court.”

“As soon as she can admit to herself that she loves watching and being treated like this, she can join us. Until then…” Azriel trailed off, grabbing Eris’s hips and pulling him towards him. The redhead grinned and kissed him with a passionate fire you could feel from the bed, their teeth clashing as they hastily removed their clothing.

You bit down on the cloth as their cocks sprang free from the confine of their pants, both of them impossibly large and thick. Azriel had more length while Eris was slightly girthier, though you know what mattered more was how they used it. Wetness began to pool between your thighs once more as you wriggled slightly, trying to gain some friction.

“Knees. Now.” Azriel commanded, his chest rumbling when Eris readily responded and took his cock in his mouth. It was already hard and you moaned loudly when you saw Eris’s throat bob with every inch he took of the Illyrian. 

Your fingers flexed as you watched him swallow Azriel down to the base, the Shadowsinger making a choking sound before grabbing a fistful of red hair and holding him there for several seconds. Tears were welling up in Eris’s eyes as he struggled to breathe but he never fought against Az’s hold. He took everything he was giving him.

“Good boy, good fucking boy,” Azriel grunted, finally letting him come up for air as he turned to look at you. “Look at how wet you’ve made her, Eris. She’s soaking the sheets.”

“Fuck, she looks delicious…” Eris moaned. “Are you ready to submit yet, pet? Ready to show us how good you can be?”

You hesitated, struggling with the moral and immoral thoughts swirling around your brain, and whined when Azriel shrugged his shoulders and turned back to his lover. “Her loss.” He said, using Eris’s hair to guide him back to his throbbing dick. “Eyes on me, prince.”

He had no hesitation as he went back to work on his cock, his hands rubbing where his mouth couldn’t reach. Your mouth went dry as you saw Azriel grow more and more desperate, his hips snapping in time with Eris’s sucking. Every inch of your skin felt as if you were on fire and when you saw Azriel shove him all the way down his throat, spilling inside him, your resolve finally broke.

“Mmmph! Mmm!” You garbled through the makeshift gag, your pussy weeping with how desperate you were. They ignored you, lost in their own euphoria as Eris’s own cock jerked in need of release. 

“Don’t swallow it, greedy prince. Keep my cum warm for me while I check on our little voyeur.” Az smirked, gingerly pulling out of his mouth before strolling towards you. His cock was glistening with Eris’s spit and his own cum, already starting to get hard again as you looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“Something to say, mouse? Do you need something?” He taunted, one of his shadows ghosting over your swollen cunt. It made you buck your hips as you struggled to talk, gasping for air when Azriel yanked the wet gag out of your mouth. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“I like it. I like it and I shouldn’t but I do,” You rambled, chest heaving with each word. “I’m a dirty slut who liked it just please, please fucking touch me. I’m begging you. I need it.”

Azriel mulled over your words, the shadow pressing more firmly on your clit. You knew if he kept going you would cum in no time, your inner walls already clenching as you bit down on your lip to try and control yourself. 

“Was that good enough for you, Eris?” Azriel asked, smirking when he saw him already climbing up the end of the bed. “Or should we make her beg more?”

“No, no, please!” You nearly cried, ignoring the burn from your bonded hands and feet as you tried to get up. “I promise I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want just please touch me.”

You flinched when Azriel’s fingers tilted your head to look at him, his eyes drinking in your tear-stained cheeks and flushed face. He studied you for what felt like forever before bending down until his forehead was touching yours. “You’re ours now, little mouse.”

Eris’s hot, wet tongue licked up your cunt as you were staring at Azriel and it made you cry out in pleasure, taken off guard as he latched onto your clit and started sucking on it roughly.

It was too much sensation at once and with how worked up you were, you already felt yourself teetering on the edge. Azriel seemed to realize as he crawled beside you and pinned your arms to the bed, Eris’s fire disappearing instantly. “Don’t you dare fucking cum, whore. You have to be given permission.” 

“I can’t-” You choked, your hips grinding down as Eris moved down to circle the tip of his tongue over your hole. “I can’t hold it! Please!”

“I said no,” Azriel growled, fingers digging painfully into the soft skin of your arms. “Stuff her full of my cum, prince. Claim her for me.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion until you watched as Eris pulled away from your sopping wet cunt, a small string of saliva following him, and spat Azriel’s cum onto your pussy. The sight of it had your toes curling as Eris gave you a devilish smile, sliding two fingers down your lips, collecting the cum, and then shoving them roughly inside you.

“Oh, fuck!” You yelped as he fucked his lover’s cum into you, his fingers curling with each thrust before he went back to licking and biting your clit. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen and you almost sobbed when Azriel pinned your hips down to keep you still.

All you could do was lay there and take it, desperately trying to fend off your orgasm as Azriel whispered in your ear, “Take it like the dirty slut you are mouse. Feel his thick fingers inside of you, fucking my cum into you.”

“She tastes so fucking, mmph-” Eris growled into your pussy, his amber eyes glowing like embers as he looked up at you. “So fucking good.”

“I bet she does, I can smell how sweet she is,” Azriel said, his fingers dancing down your body until he got to your breasts. “And look at how beautiful these are…just waiting to be marked up.”

He gave your right nipple a harsh smack at the same time Eris sucked your clit again, the pain and pleasure mixing in a toxic wave of lust. They had you seeing stars and they were just getting started. 

“Please, Azriel, Eris, please let me cum,” You begged, your bottom lip quivering as your legs shook with the effort to contain it. “I’ll be good, I’ll be a good girl.”

“You’re so cute when you beg like that, Y/N.” Azriel praised, goosebumps rising on your skin as his breath blew softly onto your neck. “So pretty, such a good whore. Do you think she should cum, Eris?”

Eris pulled back, ignoring your whimpers as he rose to his knees and pulled Azriel into a heated kiss so that he could taste your juices on his tongue. You huffed out angrily, nearly ready to stomp your feet as you felt your orgasm fade into nothing due to the lack of stimulation.

“Is my pet throwing a fit? Did you not already get enough attention?” Eris cooed, turning to watch you as Azriel kissed down his neck and palmed his cock until the High Lord was bucking into his hand. “Are you, ah, are you that needy?”

“Of course she is, look at her.” Azriel mocked, sucking a large hickey onto the column of his throat before he pushed him back roughly. Eris landed beside you, his hair splaying out beautifully as the Illyrian roughly picked you up and had you bending over the edge of the bed. “Suck his cock, mouse. Make him cry for you.”

You did not need to be told twice, your mouth hungrily kissing his inner thighs and trailing up to his dripping member. It was thick and long, the tip red and begging for you to pay it attention. He let out a small groan as you kissed and licked the head of him, swirling your tongue round and round before a sharp smack landed on your ass.

“I said to suck his cock not tease him, little whore.” Azriel ordered, letting another spank hit your clit this time which made you moan. You nodded, eyes focusing on Eris as you took him all the way to his pubic hair. It tickled your nose as you watched the redhead lurch forward, his hands immediately flying to your head to hold you still as he rutted upwards.

“Stars above, that feels amazing,” He moaned, looking over you to Azriel who was stroking himself to the sight. You began to choke and only then did he finally let you go, his thumb reaching out to wipe away the mascara that was now smeared under your eyes. “Again.”

He gave you no time to prepare as he roughly shoved himself down your throat once more, his mouth hanging open in ecstasy as you did your best to breathe through your nose. You cupped his balls in your hand, rolling them around, which only spurred Eris on further. 

“Who knew you were such a good cocksucker, Y/N?” Azriel chimed from behind you, stepping forward to rub his hard cock through your folds. Each time he bumped against your clit it made you lurch back, trying to get him to enter you. “Maybe that should be your new title, hm? Just for us.”

“Only for us.” Eris echoed. “Fuck I’m going to cum.”

“Paint her face. Mark her in your cum.” Azriel growled, savoring the way you were both lost in your own pleasure as Eris suddenly pulled out of your mouth to spurt onto your face. You closed your eyes and took it, loving the way they were being so filthy with you before you moaned when you felt Azriel enter you from behind. 

“So fucking tight,” He gritted out as he fucked you wildly like a beast taking his bitch. Your whole body was jerking forward and all you could do was look at Eris, your eyes heavy-lidded as he swiped some of his cum off your face and held it out for you to taste.

You sucked his finger in greedily, enjoying the salty taste of him as he smirked back at how corrupted you had become. However, as soon as Az hit that spot deep inside you, you let go of his digit to let out a loud, whorish groan. 

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” You cried out, looking back to watch him pound into you from behind. With every brush over that spot, you felt your orgasm building once more, your walls clenching tightly around him which made him hiss through his teeth.

“You wanna cum on his cock, pet? Do you deserve it?” Eris teased, placing two fingers under your chin to force you to look at him. “Do you think you deserve to cum on his cock?”

“Yes, mmm, I do,” You pant, moaning into his mouth when he kisses you sloppily. He tasted of warm spices and Azriel, the combination intoxicating as your tongues swirled together. It made your already wet cunt wetter. “I’ve been good.”

Azriel grabbed your hips harshly, making sure to leave bruises on them as he felt his orgasm racing up his spine. His balls started to tighten and he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted as he spilled into you, your orgasm following swiftly behind as you came and came and came.

Your entire body shook with the force of it as you all but collapsed onto Eris’s thighs, your ass still up in the air as Azriel continued to thrust shallowly into you. He grinned as some of his cum leaked out the side of your union, watching it fall onto the bed. 

“You made such a mess, little mouse,” Azriel noted as he reluctantly pulled out, scooping his oozing cum and shoving it back inside your sensitive hole. You whined, trying to move away but Eris forced you to stay still as the Spymaster continued to toy with your sex. “And you came without permission.”

“I-what? But you-” You mumbled, lifting your head to turn and gaze at him. “Eris said…”

“I only asked the question, pet. I never permitted you.” He said sweetly, brushing the hair out of your eyes as you swallowed in fear. “You should know better.”

“It’s alright, prince.” Azriel smiled, flipping you over forcefully before appearing over you. “We have plenty of time to teach her how to behave.”

The last thing you saw was Azriel’s hazel eyes before his shadows circled your head, blinding you as Eris chuckled into the night air. You sucked in a breath when you felt those fiery bonds return once more, locking you to the bed as they both set to work on your punishment.

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[satoriberry]

"there's no ink." "yer kinda cute." - karasu tabito

★ resume: you need to make photocopies of a correction sheet for all 35 of your classmates. also, karasu can't use printers.

★ heads up: karasu is potentially ooc but imo he acts the way he does when it comes to football outside of bllk he's CRINGE BOOOOO, reader has hair that can be tucked behind her ear so it can be short or long yknow and uhhh nothing else ig, maybe just karasu being cringe but what's new. also reader is so fucking sick and tired of people in this so she's a bit rude but its justified :3

★ berry's note: oh wow im WRITING!! [😱😱] n e way, i hate this guy a lot and i cant imagine him excelling at using a printer by himself, so time to make a cutesy scenario out of it where he makes a fool of himself!!! enjoy!! :3

maybe it was because of the big, fat, red "57" that was surely an adequate and representative grade for your work - and not just your geography teacher being a bitch - but for some arbitrary reason, an itch developed in the back of your brain and made you feel a bit less tolerant of stupidity. at least until you get back home and sleep like a comatose patient.

you felt a slight comfort in knowing that even the self-proclaimed class genius got a gut-wrenching 60 on the same test, which isn't the nicest way of finding inner peace, but who cares? besides, geography is for losers who want to make statistics about the declining birth rate, and you couldn't care less about women giving birth to less and less children with each passing decade. strutting down the empty hallway, you gripped the sheet containing the answers to the questions with a bit too much intensity and aggression, slightly creasing it in your hand but you had bigger things to worry about. the printer room.

the godforsaken printer room - that served as the only motive to still keep hallway number 4 of the third floor accessible - possessed a myriad of faults and problems, the worst one being that they rarely kept the ink fresh; 'they' being the student body whose only involvement was that. keeping the ink fresh. they didn't even have to buy it, their only job was checking the printer's ink every 4 to 5 days and replace the cartridge if needed so. but, suprisingly (considering how competent they usually are), no one was bothered enough to accomplish this single task. nevertheless, it seemed that you weren't the student to first stumble upon this inconvenience today. the door to the printer room was slightly ajar and the lights were clearly on, so someone had to be in there.

taking the final steps, you lightly pushed the door all way to the end and gazed upon the wall where the (shitty) printers sat on an alignment of old desks. there was someone, you knew that already, but that someone seemed a bit familiar.

oh. it's that super soccer guy from bambi osaka. kawaru tamiko.

or at least you thought that was his name. you weren't good with names.

he was leaning forward against a table carrying an old canon®, tilting it forward with a grip on either side, and his hair flattened against the wall. almost like a person checking the label on the back of a cargo box that was too heavy to move. he was probably trying to look at the wires in the back, there was no other explanation for such an awkward posture.

it took him a few seconds to notice your presence, partly because he was so engrossed in the printer, and partly because you didn't care enough to say a word and instead opted for standing awkwardly with a hand on the doorframe. he turned his head towards you a first time and immediately went back to the printer before rapidly turning his head towards you again, this time fully absorbing your existence. kawaru abruptly let go of the table, producing a loud noise as it hit the wall, making you slightly wince at the idea of an even more damaged printer. you walked towards him.

running two fingers on the dust coating the surface of the printer, you lazily muttered, "it's not working, is it?", expecting nothing less from junk that was probably in use from before the fall of the soviet union. he had stood up straight and begun to awkwardly swing his arms back and forth, a clear attempt at de-stressing. "err, no, pretty sure there's a wirin' problem," he answered, though you were moreso talking to yourself than him, but that didn't matter.

"and uhh, this button right here hasn' stopped flashin' ever since i turned the thing on. prob'ly needs a technician," he continued, forcing a more assertive tone towards the end. you asked him to show you what button he was talking about, so he eagerly pointed at a flashing button located on the left side control panel of the printer. a button that had the image of an opaque drop on it. a button that had the faded word "ink" written underneath it.

the printer was working fine. it just needed ink.

and he thought it was broken.

you stood there in silence, physically and mentally unable to comprehend how someone can miss such an obvious clue. you didn't take your eyes off the flashing button, breathing quietly, trying your best to not lash out on kawaru. you noticed a frizzy lock of hair sticking out from your head and proceeded to tuck it behind your ear, then put your hand over your mouth in an attempt to hide your frustration, eyes still on the flashing button.

karasu, on the other hand, was waiting next to you, though his eyes were moreso fixated on you than the printer. did he know you? he didn't think so, but you seemed like someone he can find interest in, definitely the thinker kind since you appeared to be pondering a solution to this ordeal in a rather sophisticated manner. other questions flowed through his mind: what class were you in? were you a 3rd year? were you in the advanced course? did you have any mutual friends? did you do any extracurriculars? did you like soccer? have you ever been to one of his matches? he couldn't stop the flow of possiblities as to how to get to know you.

"there's no ink." "yer kinda cute."

you slowly turned your head to face him, body stiff and unmoving. he realized how outlandish the comment he just made was, and possibly inappropriate considering the circumstance.

"huh?" "what?"

you blinked at him with gradually developing bewilderment, fully certain that you heard what you heard but that didn't change the fact that you weren't awaiting that from him.

and sadly, you couldn't say that it displeased you. the opposite actually.

"i err, i...anyway, you said ink? there's a few cartridges in the desk's cubby. whaddya need? black? magenta? cyan? yellow?", he started to speak again at a fast pace, wanting to get done with this interaction and dwell in sorrow from his incapacity to talk to cute girls. "black's fine," you answered, looking away to make it less embarrassing from him. he dug in the cubby for a moment, hand banging the sides of the metal compartment before he got hold of a blocky object. he read the cartridge's sticker and made sure it was black ink before standing up again.

you expected him to press the button that dislodged the upper half of the machine and replace the cartridge, however, he stood quietly, fiddling with it while nervously looking at and away from you multiple times. oh. he doesn't know how to replace ink. exhaling through your nostrils, you stuck out your hand, wordlessly demanding him to hand it over - an order he prompty followed.

karasu felt you snatch the cartridge before he could even fully place it on your palm, making him feel even more guilty for wasting your time. he watched as you effortlessly pressed a series of buttons, took out things, replaced things and before he knew it, you snapped the top of the printer back on, which caused the flashing button to stop doing so. was he a loser or were you just a printer connoisseur? he didn't care enough to think of an answer though, he was once again focused on subtly seducing you and make you notice his more pleasant qualities.

you chose to ignore him for the rest of your stay in the printer room, procuring 35 copies of the sheet and preparing to leave when you felt a hand (his hand) lightly tap you on your back.

"yes?," you said, though you recognize you could have said it with a bit less bluntness in your voice. he took no notice of this however, and asked, "what's yer name? i think we've met before."

"(last name) (first name). no, we've never met, or at least i don't think we did," you replied before staring at him with more attention than before, noticing a few details about him that you missed. for example, the mole on his upper left cheek, or the weird angle at which his hair was styled. what kind of fucking product would you need for that?

"ah, hahaha, my bad, i was prob'ly thinkin' of someone else. umm, i...i meant what i said earlier," he mumbled his words more and more. you raised an eyebrow, not getting what he meant by 'what i said earlier', before remembering that he had called you cute. oh, right. that happened.

you involuntarily flashed a face of understanding, then lowered your head to bite your cheek. you didn't want to look like a loser while trying to hide your smile, a smile you rarely gave to guys with bad flirting skills, albeit this one was of the more good-looking variety so you can superficially excuse his lack of skills. "thanks, that was very sweet. i wasn't expecting it but it's still sweet. thank you."

"i can help ya' carry those papers to your classroom, that looks a bit heavy-"

"it's fine, really. but i do have a question. what's your name?"

his expression changed from nervous suaveness to a giddy grin, feeling honoured that you were interested in his name. "karasu tabito. i play for the local youth team, bambi osaka. you didn't ask fer that but, y'know...," ah. that was his name. karasu tabito. kawaru sounded a bit too childish for a guy like him.

"karasu tabito. yeah, i've seen you play. you're fun to watch." you tried to lighten the mood a bit cause the boy was seconds away from developing a rash if he kept scratching his neck like that.

"fun to watch? me? oh, thanks. i've been called a 'good player' and 'excellent' even, but 'fun', i've never gotten that before. w-whaddya mean by that though? what's fun, my playstyle or my presence or-,"

you couldn't afford wasting any more time than you already have, so cutting him off, you replied, "fun as in watching you in your element is rather entertaining, i don't do much sport outside of PE, but i can tell you love what you do. sorry, i have to leave, my teacher is gonna be up my ass about taking so much time."

karasu's lips formed a thin line, bitter about not making much of this exchange. and before he could even hold himself back, his mouth let out, "wanna watch my practice after school? you don't have to stay fer the whole thing, jus' to show you how i play outside of official matches."

"sure."

"what? hu-"

"i said, 'sure'. i'll watch you, i'll even stay for the whole practice, i've got nothing. catch you at the shoe lockers, bye."

and with that (plus a quick smile to soften the blow), you speedwalked out of the printer room and began to go down what felt like a dozen floors.

you didn't allow yourself to think about what happened up there, to avoid cringing at your bizarre attitude and not think about the fact that a (weird) guy you would consider somewhat out of your league, just asked you to watch him play.

bonus!!

lunch break finally rolled around, and your friends typically hung out in an obscure part of the courtyard to eat while hiding their cellphones from any faculty members. checking your messages, you noticed an instagram dm from someone whose username already crossed your mutual recommendations but you never took the time to open their profile.

kr_tabito23.

-> coach is sick but i still want an excuse to talk to you

-> there's this really rad crepe shop in namba parks

-> im paying :]

-> you can't say no

-> lol kidding

-> sorry that was weird

you giggled at whatever he was trying to achieve, he was definitely a dork. you didn't mind that.

-> sure. still gonna catch you at the shoe lockers c:

and somewhere in the school, on the opposite side of the main building, next to the fountain where he and his friends usurped the benches, karasu jumped from his seat and into the air, bumping his fist and yelling unintelligible words while his friends watched, confused but happy for their normally cool and collected fellow.

★ berry's post-writing note: guys im gonna be honest i hate the ending my inspiration juice ran out so i just came up with something but i feel like it could've been a bit better. still happy that i wrote something cause ive been in a long ass writer's block since?? what??? february? anyway, criticism is always accepted and uhh thank you for reading till the end!! <3

#berry.writes <3 #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #karasu x reader #karasu tabito x reader #karasu tabito #tabito karasu

[squirting-sub]

Trying new kinks (aka piss play)

When I arrived at her place she didn't greet me at the door like she usually does. Everything was dark, only the door to the living room was slightly ajar with a little light and music coming from there. I dropped my things in the hallway and pushed the door open. I was greeted with her sitting next to her dining table, wearing a see-through black mesh shirt and a leather harness around her chest. On the table, she had placed all kinds of tools and toys. A flogger, split leather paddle, wartenberg wheel, blindfold, strapon, etc... the whole room was dark except for a dim light and some candles, giving it a very different feel. We were kissing and she pushed me against the wall, undressing me til I was only left in my underwear. Then she told me to get my stuff from the hallway. I complained a little because she told me to close the door only a few minutes before. Complaining caused her to choke me and give me a couple of hard spanks, which got me to shut up real fast.

I put my giant fluffy and waterproof blanket on the floor, following her orders. It made the room a big play room with more space to move around than on a bed like usual. She took some rope and tied my hands together in front of me, making me kneel after. She pulled my face against her crotch, then dropped her pants and pulled my head between her legs to eat her out. I was circling her clit with my tongue when she directed my mouth to her opening to feel my tongue inside her. I was looking up at her when I suddenly felt warm wetness in my mouth. Seeing the expression on her face when she realized I'm swallowing and drinking her piss was godly. It turned both of us on so much. I just love how degrading it is. She pushed me down to the floor to sit on my face and after grinding on my tongue she made me drink some more. Then, she sat on my chest and slapped my face hard a couple times, grabbing me by my jaw to make me face her asking "You like that don't you?".

Later, she had me tie my legs in Futomomo style, then tied my hands together again and had me on all fours to spank me with the flogger and the split leather paddle. Once she hit hard between my legs, which made me whimper and went "Oh, did I miss?". When I nodded and said yes, still feeling the sting she said "That can't be. I don’t miss." and kept hitting me. She took a break to pull me up on my knees and have me eat her again. She had me drink more of her piss but I missed a little. "Why is it running down my leg, hm?". Of course I apologized and cleaned it up with my tongue. Then, she pushed me down again, took the Wartenberg wheel and pushed it against my throat hard from behind while biting my neck and shoulder, getting me to moan. Then dragged it over my back. She went back to spanking me and got tired of me glancing over my shoulder to see when the next hit will land. She blindfolded me and kept going but after a while the rope got in the way so she removed it fast and rough before fucking me with the strapon. She didn't let me cum yet and after having some fun decided to spank me again, ordering me to count. Getting the words out was hard when in pain but I managed to count all 15 very hard spanks and got some praise for it. She removed my blindfold and asked me if I can take more, to which I said yes. I was to count again but at 18 I failed because she hit the back of my thigh so hard it made me fall over and whimper. She just grabbed my hips, pulled me back on my knees and kept spanking me til she reached 35, counting the rest herself. Then, she kneeled in front of me to give me some soft kisses and check up on me. Since I was fine she had me lay on my back to continue fucking me with the strapon but abandoned it quickly to fuck me with her hand and make me squirt so many times I was in tears after. She had me rest on her chest for a while but I couldn’t keep my hands and mouth from wandering and continued to eat her out. We switched positions so she was sitting on my face but after a while she got up to get the glass dildo she likes. She laid on her back and had me use it on her while sucking on her clit. After a little while she decided she wants my fingers inside her instead, so I followed her orders. She turned around and got on all fours so I could fuck her from behind while she rubbed her clit, which made her cum so fast she was surprised herself. It's always such a privilege to have my strong dom in front of me like that.

For aftercare, we cuddled under a fluffy blanket before taking a hot shower and eating some late dinner. Afterward, we cuddled on the sofa some more while watching a space documentary, which made me fall asleep in her arms.

#lesbian nsft #dyke nsft #wlw bd/sm #piss play. #piss. #pee. #urine. #water sports #leather dyke #femme4butch #sub original

[taurussuitjake]

safety net

hi guys, this is my first fic! i haven’t written fic in soooooo long so please bear with me here lol, here’s a cute little friends-to-lovers with Danny that will have a part 2 with a little more steam to follow! ENJOY 🌝 2.6k words (i think)

warnings: depression, lack of self care, platonic intimacy, fluffy as FUCK, best friend! Danny.

it’s been 6 days since you left your bedroom.

october brings about an emptiness that swallows you whole. you can’t seem to put your finger on why, exactly… but nonetheless, that’s about the time your seasonal depression sets in.

while your brain will tell you that everyone around you is burdened by the rain cloud that hangs over you these days, they definitely put up a hell of a fight. Jake and Josh have both texted you every morning and every night to see how you’re feeling and ask if you need help with anything. Sam calls you at least once a day just to try and make you laugh (and it usually works, even if it’s just a little bit.)

but Danny is texting you consistently throughout the days that pass, calling you around the same time everyday, bringing you food, staying over on the weekends just so you don’t have too much alone time. Danny is your very best friend, and he literally will not let you forget it, now more than ever.

your house is still. it’s quiet. you can only imagine that if the void had a sound… it sounds like this. it’s 6PM in the middle of october, so not only is it still, but it’s cold and dark. your ear picks up the sound of a key in your deadbolt, the turning of the lock and the click of your front door. there’s only two people who have a key to your house… and your mom always calls before she comes over.

Danny. thank God, it’s Danny.

while you were still in your silence and comfortable in your solitude, you’d be lying if you said that Danny’s presence didn’t make you feel better. even though the sun has set, it’s like you have all the sunshine you need in your doorway at this very moment.

he doesn’t call for you, he just slips off his shoes and pads his way to your bedroom door, which is left slightly ajar to keep air flow circulating throughout the house. the slit of dim light from the hallway gets wider as he lightly pushes your door open.

“how is Y/N today?” he asks, walking around to your side of the bed and taking a seat beside you. you turn to face him with tears brimming your eyelids, threatening to loosen the floodgates, but he notices immediately.

“hey-hey, sit up. c’mere.” he demanded ever so gently. you oblige, wiping your tears away with the sleeve of your shirt.

“what’s got you upset?” he whispers as he pushes the stray hair out of your face with his calloused hands, “what can i do?” he asks.

you hesitate to speak for a moment, embarrassed of what you’re about to admit.

“Danny, i haven’t showered in 6 days. i feel so gross but i don’t wanna leave my bed. i feel so exhausted.” you choke out, tears streaming at this point. “i almost don’t want you this close to me because it’s probably very obvious.” you admit.

“Y/N,” he pauses, a merciful smile splayed across his face. it brings you a small sense of comfort. “it doesn’t matter whether it’s obvious or not, it’s hard to take care of yourself when you don’t have the energy to do so. i understand how it feels. don’t be embarrassed or anything.” he reassures you.

it lifts a small weight off your shoulders, visibly. his eyes gleam a little at the sight of you sitting up a little straighter. it makes you crack a smile for the first time since Sam called you this morning.

you both sit there, letting the silence fill the room. the only audible thing you have to hold onto is the sound of Danny’s steady breathing. by this time, he’s grabbed both of your hands into his and starts rubbing the back of your hands with the pad of his thumb. it’s like he just knows. he knows how to make it all better. the silence brings about an idea- a strange one- but an idea nonetheless.

“this is a strange request, but it’s something you could do.” you speak lowly into the space around the both of you.

“whatever you need, Y/N.” he assures you.

you pause, looking up and your ceiling, debating on whether or not you should speak the thought into existence. “would you mind sitting in the bathroom with me while i shower?” you say, finally.

it takes him a moment to grasp what exactly you’re asking of him, so you feel the need to damage control and elaborate on what exactly you want him to do.

“i don’t mean anything risqué, i just think it might help me if you sit on the counter or something while i shower. kind of like body doubling.” you pause for a moment. “it holds me accountable to complete the task.”

he analyzes your face for a moment, he can tell that you’re starting to get a little nervous, as he hasn’t actually answered your question.

“yeah- yeah, i think i can do that.” he nods his head subtly, a small smile breaks across his face. you’re not sure if it’s because he’s happy that you’re wanting to get out of bed and do something for the first time in almost a week, or if he’s happy that you asked him a favor of that nature.

he gets up from the bed and warns you as he reaches up to pull the ceiling fan chain to turn the light on. you grab your respective necessities: a fresh pair of underwear, set of pj’s, a towel and an old t-shirt to dry your body and hair with. meanwhile, Danny waltzes to your bathroom to start running your shower, making sure it’s comfortably warm for you when you eventually get into it.

you make your way into the bathroom, and he steps out for a moment, grabbing the door handle before closing it, “just to give you some privacy. just call for me when you want me to come back in, okay?” he requests. you nod as he closes the door quietly.

you remove your clothes and throw them in your hamper, almost relieved at the feeling of the fabric no longer touching your skin. you avoid looking at yourself in the mirror, in fear that it’ll talk you out of doing anything in favor of showing yourself some love. you push back the shower curtain just enough to shimmy behind it and finally let the warm water rush over you. you take a deep breath in to fill your lungs with the hot steam. you exhale. so far, so good.

“you can come in now.” you call for Danny. you hear the handle turn and the door click open and close. he shuffles across the bathroom floor and sits atop the closed toilet seat.

“how ya feelin’?” he asks as soon as he sits down.

you snicker tiredly, “first impressions? i’m just glad i can feel something other than my clothes.”

he chuckles, it almost resembles a sigh of relief. you’re trying. and he’s so happy to see you trying.

you make small conversation as you conduct your normal shower routine. he tells you about his week this far and it almost makes you wanna join the real world again. you took a temporary leave of absence from work for two weeks to try and get yourself together after about three days of being on autopilot while slowly sinking into whatever hole you’ve been in for the past week.

“Danny?” you say meekly.

“yeah?” he answered you almost immediately. it made your heart jump a little.

“thank you for being here.” you reply.

he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, then you hear his lowly tone say “i just want you to be okay, i’ll be here however and whenever you need me.” as the words passed through his lips, the love that dripped from his voice evaporated into the shower steam you slowly breathed in. for the first time in a while, you felt something other than nothing.

“i think i’m ready to get out now, will you hand me my towel, please?” you changed the subject before you started overthinking the moment. you see the towel peel through the slit of the shower curtain and take it from Danny’s hand. you wrap yourself up in your towel, tucking one of the corners back into the towel to hold it in place at your chest. you began to feel exhaustion creep up on you again, and your hair was still sopping wet.

“do you need me to step out for a minute?”

for a reason you’re going to assume was simply feeling too drained, you begin to cry again. you sniffled and he must’ve heard you and known what was happening behind the shower curtain.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? what happened?” he sounded a little panicked, you felt guilty for making him worry.

“i feel like i sound so stupid for this.” you say, nearly sobbing.

“for what?” he asks, concerned. like he was on the edge of his seat.

“i need to dry my hair but i still feel too drained to do the work. i feel so fucking useless! i’m so tired of feeling so useless!” what started as a gentle cry, ended as a temper tantrum.

“Y/N, you’re not useless.” he assured you calmly. “are you covered?” he asked.

“yeah, why?” you asked, not prepared for him to draw back the shower curtain slowly.

“c’mere. let me dry your hair.” he already had the t-shirt in his hands and a soft smile on his face. he grabs both of your hands, “watch your step.” he offers as he looks down to make sure you had the right footing to step out of the tub and onto the bath mat. you both look back up at each other simultaneously, and his hands reach up to your face to push all of the stray strands stuck to your face from the water. he offers a warm smile.

“there you are.” he says, relief woven in his phrase.

in that moment, you could diagnose a present emotion. you could diagnose happiness for the first time in (what felt like) forever. you held back tears, for it was no longer time to cry.

he gently places his hands atop your shoulders and motions you to turn around.

“i’m gonna dry your hair a little, okay?” he says. you nod your head and tip it back just a little so that he can get the under layer of your hair.

his hands tousle through your now damp strands, working diligently to get as much moisture out of your hair as possible. you feel his body heat vanish for a moment and you slump your shoulders at the loss of him being close to you. he returns not half a second later and he begins brushing the ends of your hair gently.

“you don’t have t-“ he cut you off.

“respectfully, if i don’t do it… i’m not sure you will.” he chuckled a little. he was right, you couldn’t even deny it. you chuckled along with him for a brief moment, as the bristles crept up closer and closer to your scalp. when he was done brushing through the tangled, he even parted your hair for you, just as you part it all the time and tamed both sides afterwards.

you turn to face him, unsure of what to do or say. a ‘thank you’ would suffice, but your body moved faster than your brain did, and you pulled him into a hug. he wrapped around you so graciously. he physically made you feel whole. like he glued all of your pieces back together. he planted a gentle kiss on the top of your head and squeezed you just a little tighter before he let go and pulled away just enough to take in your features. he scanned your face for any sign of discomfort, and to his delight, there was none.

“i’m gonna let you change into your clothes and then i’ll come back in if you need me to.” he nodded while slowly peeling himself away from you. he didn’t want to let go, but he didn’t want you to lose your winning streak. you nodded back in agreement and turned toward the counter and quickly dressed yourself after you heard the door close. after your clothes were on, you took the opportunity to brush your teeth. you were pretty good about doing that at least once a day since you fell into your bout, but maybe this would set you back on your normal nightly routine.

after you were done, you opened the door to see Danny stopping mid-pace in front of the door and offering a wide smile. “how do you feel?”

you smile at the sight of him. also, in the name of hopefulness.

“i feel better. very much so.” you exhale slowly, still gleaming a little.

“i’m so glad, you look so… yourself.” he said.

you take in your surroundings for a moment, trying so hard to chain yourself to this present moment. you can feel the way he’s watching you attentively. you got confirmation of that as soon as your eyes landed back on him, because he was already looking at you.

“i love you.” you said, just above a whisper. and not the ‘i love you’ that you give him when you guys part ways or hang up the phone. this felt different as it left your lips.

and he knew exactly what you meant. it’s almost like he was waiting for you to admit it. out of all the close friends you could’ve asked… you asked him. he’s the first person you run to with anything; exciting news, a bad mood, sadness… Danny was your safety net. your truest love. your very best friend. and he knew. and he waited for as long as he had to. for this moment.

he smiles gently, stepping closer to you with caution; he’s reading your expressions like a book. he sees no sign of discomfort, as he inches closer to you to close the gap in between you two, almost completely. he lifts his hand to push the hair in your face back behind your ear once more, traces his fingertips along your jawbone and rests his index finger and thumb on the tip of your chin. he flicks his eyes up and down, from your eyes and back down to your lips. you allow fate to take hold of this moment and stand motionless, your breathing hitching slightly as he inches closer to your face. his eyes flutter closed, yours following close behind. you feel the peaks of his pillow-soft lips ghost over yours. within seconds, his lips are fully attached to yours. if this was the kiss of life, you were revived with great success. you felt the heat in your cheeks radiate and your heart thrum in your chest. it was beautiful; it was missed so dearly.

he pulled away slowly. his eyes fluttered open, bliss warping his vision only for a moment. the caution that lingered previously had returned; he read you for any signs of discomfort before he spoke.

“i love you too. so much. you’ll never understand how much.” he gushed, smiling blissfully.

“i’m so glad you’re here.” you returned the smile.

“right back at you.” he said, pulling you into his chest. you were lost in his heartbeat and the rise and fall motions of his chest.

#greta van fleet #danny wagner #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #josh gvf #danny gvf #jake gvf #friends to lovers #gvf #gvf fluff #gvf smut #my fic #sam gvf

[kinomiya]

Mayblade Day #1: The Past

Hi, hello, I wrote very little (so far) but this was how I decided I wanted to start off my @may-blade experience, h a h a

For anyone confused by what the fuck is happening here, the first chapter of peregrination should provide some context for you but it’s not like… absolutely essential.

The sharp sound of footsteps reverberated through the damp underground corridors as a small figure ran deeper into the labyrinth in a frantic attempt to find the exit. Yuriy’s lungs burned as he desperately tried to fill them with enough oxygen to keep moving as the fear of being caught gripped him. He continued down the endless hallways for what felt like an eternity before eventually collapsing into one of the stone walls, barely catching himself with his left hand as he fell forward, overcome by a coughing fit that wracked his frail frame as he tried to catch his breath.

He ignored the stinging protest from the palm of his hand as he pulled himself away from the brick wall and wiped the blood off on his dirty clothes. Yuriy inhaled deeply and regained what little composure he had before silently assessing his surroundings. He’d been here a hundred times before, he knew it was fruitless, there was no exit, there was never an exit, but nevertheless he pushed himself onward, deeper still into the underground abyss.

The dimly lit tunnel network extended endlessly ahead as he staggered through it. The dotting in his vision had begun to play tricks on him as his anxiety made him see shadows in his periphery. He came to an abrupt stop at the sound of muffled voices ahead of him, voices that grew nearer by the second. Panic rose in his chest like bile as he looked around for a place to obscure himself before his vision landed on an unfamiliar, slightly ajar door. Quickly Yuriy pushed the heavy door open just enough for him to squeeze his body through and slipped into the pitch black room. He hid himself behind the wall peeking out through the crack in the door into the corridor waiting for the approaching figures to pass by.

All he could hear was the sound of his heart beating in his chest as the two guards came into view, passing by without as much as a glance towards where he hid as they carried on their mundane conversation with one another. Yuriy exhaled deeply, as his fear dissipated ever so slightly. However as he inhaled again, a familiar scent invaded his nose and an uneasiness began to rise again along with an intense desire to wretch. Every sensible part of him told him he shouldn’t turn around, just push open the door and come out from which he came.  

But he looked anyway.

The limited light that filtered through the opening in the door illuminated the small figure that lay on the ground, their fingernails were jagged and bloody and Yuriy could see the telltale signs that vermin had begun to feast on the body's soft tissue. He took a step forward, ignoring the rotten metallic taste in his mouth as he squinted trying to make out any discernible features. It was a boy around the same age as him, the short dark hair was matted with long dried blood and the eyes were cloudy, completely void of any life. Yuriy was about to turn to leave, determined to make his escape from this deplorable place, when a ring with a familiar family crest on the figure's finger caught his eye. In an instant, horror wracked his body as he tasted an astringent taste in his mouth. He was unable to move, unable to utter a single word as his brain recognized the figure that lay dead before him.

Ralf?

…

Again? Yuriy thought, exhaling loudly as the familiar scent of death dissipated, replaced by the fresh late spring air that filtered through the open window. He ran a hand through his hair, groaning frustratedly, wondering why it always had to be like this. Plagued by endless nightmares, destined to a slow miserable death as he slowly lost his sanity to sleep deprivation. He picked up his phone with his free hand, the time flashed across the screen and he sighed in defeat as he threw the covers off himself before climbing out of the bed. The sun would rise in a little over an hour anyway, so there was no point in trying to salvage the night.

He silently made his way to the second floor alcove that overlooked the manor’s lavish gardens, sitting himself down in the dark room and staring out at the fading night sky. Hoping the vividly painted images would begin to fade in the same way many of his childhood memories had. He closed his eyes and leaned back, his head hitting the walls' elaborate wooden carvings with a loud thump, he repeated the movement, allowing the endorphins to run through his body.

“If your thick skull damages the moulding, I'll be sending you the bill for its restoration, Yuriy.” Ralf’s dry voice came from beside where he sat. He briefly glanced over at the familiar man he hadn’t heard approach.

“Yeah, just address it to my father then,” Yuriy replied snarkily as his gaze returned to the twilight sky, allowing silence to descend on the room again.

“Do you frequently have nightmares?” Ralf inquired, his voice void of any concern as he quietly approached Yuriy holding out his hand, causing the other to look at the inconspicuous white coffee cup he was offering.

“Let’s just say I’ve had more nightmares than dreams,” he responded, moving his hand so the base of the cup rested in his palm. He didn’t miss the ghost of a frown that appeared on Ralf’s face at the answer, nor the way his eyebrows knit together, as if this answer perplexed him.

Ralf didn’t continue the conversation, instead he silently sat down across from Yuriy in the alcove, crossing one leg over the other allowing himself an almost relaxed demeanor. He drank from his own plain white cup, looking out over the castle gardens as the peaking sun cast orange across the early morning sky.

Yuriy didn’t have to tell him, so he wouldn’t.

And so the warped past that haunted Yuriy’s every night, and brought him closer and closer to an early grave, would remain a secret, for now.

#Yuriy Ivanov #Ralf Jürgens #Hi hello it's me here with the horror/angst #Mayblade 2023 #mayblade #The beyfic tag

[redisaid]

Beneath the Blue Moon - Chapter 3

Dark

Democracy has spoken yet again, so here's another chapter of your choices. You all are so mean to Jaina and gave her the worst emotional support anyone could ask for.

I love it.

Oh yeah and, NSFW.

5758 Words

Read it on Ao3!

Take me back to the night we met.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do,

Haunted by the ghost of you.

Oh, take me back to the night we met.

“Well, this is fucking depressing.”

Jaina turned to the voice that should not have been there. Well, not that she wanted anyone to be there at all, witnessing her crumpled, knees to chest on the side of her bed, crying and staring at her hand.

Nor did she expect to look up to find Valeera Sanguinar, of all people, making such a declaration as she faded back in from the shadows. The elven rogue stood with her arms crossed in front of Jaina’s open bedroom door, which had been locked previously, though was no doubt hardly a challenge for Valeera.

Valeera, who had no reason to be here in Proudmoore Keep. While she had been present at the meeting in the harbor that morning, she had declined an invitation to be housed at the keep while further Alliance meetings were moved there--citing her efforts to maintain neutrality on behalf of the Uncrowned.

Yet here she was, in Jaina’s room in the middle of the night, looking down at her as she did her best to stop the tears and get herself together. She knew Valeera hated crying.

“Are you aware that no guards are coming?” Valeera asked with a quick glance behind her to assure herself of that fact.

“I certainly hope not,” Jaina groaned as she tried to reign herself in and have a conversation she didn’t want to have in any way shape or form.

Valeera tsked, shutting the door behind her after once again confirming the hallway was empty. “It’s just that, you know, their Lord Admiral is screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night and sobbing,” she noted.

Jaina supposed that Valeera’s initial comment was on the state of her security and not on her, though maybe a little of both. Subterfuge had always been the rogue’s specialty, rather than empathy, but perhaps for that very reason, it was good that she would be the one to find Jaina like this, rather than some poor guardsman.

“We shifted them to cover our guests,” Jaina explained. “Besides, I’m an Archmage, Valeera. I don’t need a guard.”

“You look like you need a drink,” Valeera noted.

Jaina looked up to find her glowing green eyes trained on the mark that was still radiating soft blue light from the back of her hand. She knew that there would be no hiding such a detail from anyone, but especially from the trained eyes of a spy.

A spy who wasn’t supposed to be in her keep.

“Why are you here?” Jaina asked, mostly to delay the inevitable.

“Anduin,” was Valeera’s answer.

“Not going to tell me more?” Jaina prodded.

She wiped her face with the hand that hadn’t just shattered her perception of reality itself. Taking stock of the situation, she realized the pain in her shoulder had dulled back to ignorable at best. A sense of calm and serenity that most certainly did not belong to her was itching at the back of her skull. It was familiar. So familiar.

Right, she remembered. This was what it felt like when Sylvanas was sleeping.

Why the hell was she sleeping?

“You so graciously offered him a room at your keep and I needed to talk to him before I left Boralus,” Valeera explained. “I simply saw myself in, had a lovely chat with him, and was on my way towards seeing myself out.”

“You could just request audiences and allow people to know where you are, like a normal person,” Jaina told her, knowing full well Valeera would never be caught dead doing such a thing.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Valeera asked.

As they spoke, those green eyes took in the room. Jaina knew they were sketching out every detail of it to memory. Every weakness, every bit of interest. She had no doubt she could ask Valeera which of her pillows was slightly ajar a week from now and she’d still remember. Behind that facade of a devil-may-care attitude, Jaina knew one of the brightest minds in all of Azeroth whirred like a gnomish gearbox, constantly ready to process any sort of new information.

And unfortunately, the most pertinent information of the hour was glowing like a beacon on the back of Jaina’s hand.

“You were right before,” Jaina told her, patting the bed next to her. “I do need a drink.”

Valeera finally laughed and relented to the invitation when Jaina reached over and pulled out a flask from the drawer in her nightstand.

She took Jaina’s cue to sit, her armor an odd crimson against the deep Kul Tiran green of the bedspread. Valeera was small and slight, even for an elf. Jaina knew her to be young but not young enough for that smallness not to be a permanent factor in her life. And from what she knew of this woman, she could guess at its origins--a childhood spent an orphan and then being starved in the pits to toughen her up for gladiatorial combat. Valeera never got enough of anything, and thus was small for it. Small and always hungry, for information or magic or anything she didn’t really need to have or be seeking.

And while Jaina remembered the nights she spent at her bedside in Theramore, worrying at what they would do to temper and control those cravings, she also knew that sometimes, a little indulgence worked better. Controlled indulgence, that was.

Either way, it was better that Valeera hear this from her than anyone else. So Jaina popped the cap of the flask and took a swig of the mana-infused whiskey inside of it, then passed it to Valeera.

Valeera laughed her deep, throaty laugh again, sniffing the flask first before she too downed some of its contents. Jaina could still smell the fire of the whiskey on her breath when she asked, “So, when are you going to tell me why your fucking hand is glowing all of the sudden?”

“You’ll be disappointed to know that I don’t really know why,” Jaina told her as she claimed the flask back. She intended to take another draught of it to make explaining this easier, but just ended up fiddling with the cap while she thought out what the reason truly could be. “It just started as you so happened to be sneaking through my keep.”

“But that means something has changed with--”

“--Her. Yes.”

Sylvanas. Jaina had made a habit of not saying the name when she could avoid it. Some of her friends and acquaintances had picked up on it and joined her in not saying it around her. And that suited Jaina just fine. She already had a mark on her body to remind her of what she’d lost. And then the fact that the woman who bore that name still somehow walked the world despite that loss. And in the last year or so, she had managed to become the fucking Warchief of the Horde of all things, so that meant Jaina heard the name enough.

And old habits, while they served no real purpose and helped nothing and no one, died hard.

Jaina took another swig of the whiskey. It was smokey and smooth, but still whiskey. The mana bit back as a sharp, yet somewhat metallic tang, as arcane often did. Jaina winced both sensations as they mingled on her palette before adding, “But I don’t know what.”

“I mean, I have no idea how these things work besides all the lovey dovey crap that people say about it, but can’t you tell?” Valeera asked.

Valeera’s aversion to the subject of soulmates was distinctly un-elven of her. Another feature telling of her distance from her people and their culture and the love that should have come with it for her. Her own soulmark was not on display, despite how little of her body was even covered by that armor, and Jaina couldn’t recall ever having seen it in the past. To anyone else, having it be present somewhere hidden and possibly salacious would be a scandal that would haunt them through their entire life. But for Valeera, it was fitting. There was nothing about her that wasn’t hidden or salacious or somehow both.

Jaina shrugged, turning her head a little to regard Valeera as she explained, “No, I can’t. I only know that I can feel her again. She’s injured on her shoulder. And she’s sleeping right now.”

“I thought undead didn’t sleep,” Valeera said.

“So did I,” Jaina agreed.

“What the fuck was she doing?” Valeera asked, probably of herself, and reached for the flask again.

“I don’t know.”

To be perfectly honest with herself, Jaina tried not to know. She tried to stay out of it. The world often didn’t let her. She often longed for a reality in which she truly could separate herself from any kingdom or faction or the goings-on between any of them, but try as she might, she simply could not do so with good conscience. Whether it was her magic or the people she’d come to love, duty would call on them one way or another, and thus would call on Jaina to follow. And she’d tried to resist the call. She had. Even during the fight against the Legion, she’d managed it, taking out her rage at Khadgar’s casual possession of Dalaran in her own way, on her own time. For once, alone.

But it didn’t last. It never lasted. Once the surge of emotion was gone, and the sting it left behind, Jaina would feel empty. And she had long ago realized that feeling overburdened suited her far more than feeling empty.

Valeera kicked back a hearty swig of the flask--enough to make a true Kul Tiran sailor blush. She sighed out the taste of the whiskey and offered no further wisdom aside from, “This would go great in some coffee. Or even tea.”

“Too cold for you here in Boralus?” Jaina asked, welcoming the option to talk about something with any degree of certainty to it.

Valeera shook her head, passing the flask back again. “I’m leaving, so it doesn’t matter. Also I don’t have the occasion to be drinking straight whiskey like you, though I do appreciate you sharing. Both the occasion and the whiskey, that is.”

“I’d offer to bring some mixers up from the kitchen, but--”

“You were just sobbing alone for ten minutes while I debated whether or not to come in and I hate to say it, but you look like it,” Valeera finished for her. “On that thought, are you going to hide it?”

“What?”

“The mark.”

Jaina hadn’t thought that far ahead. She very well could. The glow would not show through the usual leather of her gloves and especially not through the armored gauntlet she usually wore in public. Fabric would be another thing, but truth be told, no one would ever have to see her in anything less than her full battle dress. No one did, really. Not anymore.

She tried to think of what the others might say, if she were to let them see. No doubt they’d try to use her as some sort of intelligence device--to use this bond to feed their war without taking into account that whatever had changed about it might be a means to end it. She could see it now, how Greymane would snarl and ask her what the Banshee was doing, even though he would know exactly how little she could tell him. His own mark shown bright blue even when he was fully a worgen, turning the fur that sprouted from it into the same glowing blue. Such was the ferocity of his love for his wife, and no doubt the love for their son--and with it the hatred for the woman who’d slain him.

Yes, he would remind Jaina of that, definitely.

Jaina came to her answer. “For now? Probably.”

“Until when?” Valeera wondered aloud.

“Until I know why this has happened,” Jaina told her.

Jaina’s head was running wild with theories already. Truth be told, it had been from the moment Valeera revealed herself from the shadows, both out of a need to explain and a want to know.

But indeed, the problem was that her soulmate was Sylvanas Windrunner--burner of Teldrassil, murderer of Liam Greymane, Warchief of the Horde, enemy of the Alliance, and defacto enemy of the neutral state of Kul Tiras it was once again courting. Her soulmate, sleeping soundly still, was a woman who Jaina had loved so much and then had come to hate along with everyone else. It had been easy to say that the bond between them was so irrevocably broken by what had been done to her that nothing of the Sylvanas she had loved remained. It had been Jaina’s ever-present excuse--one that no one would dare to challenge. Sylvanas’ soul was gone or dead or something to the point where she wasn’t herself. It was written on Jaina’s skin.

Or at least, it had been.

Jaina finally took a moment to look at her hand fully without the veil of tears standing in her eyes. The mark was very much blue, but dimmer than it ever had been when it was ignited many years before--when it had burned so immediately bright that all of Sylvanas’ friends and family beamed at her during that week, knowing full well that meant the love between them was already so strong.

And now it was just a flicker of a candle flame, threatening to wink out. Jaina felt it might be easier if it did, and she could just call this some fluke. And then a pang of guilt followed that thought that felt so strange and wrong and overwhelming that she had to take another swig of the whiskey. Enough to make her cheeks flush.

But not enough to give her any sense of direction. “I swear to you, it just happened,” Jaina repeated. “And I don’t know why.”

“It’s not like I don’t believe you,” Valeera told her. “And I don’t know why either. You’ve had a memorial mark since I’ve known you. Those things don’t change, but you have to admit your circumstances are different than most.”

“I’m well aware,” Jaina noted. “But I don’t think anyone quite understands to what degree. Much less me.”

Valeera shrugged at that, her eyes still darting around the room. She stuck out a gloved hand, pointing one red finger at Jaina. “Well, let’s think through it. You love thinking through things. One, obviously something has changed. Probably about Syl--her. Sorry. Her.”

Valeera was one of few people who seemed to remember this need of Jaina’s to avoid the name, and never questioned it despite the fact that it didn’t make much sense. She was a good friend, though Jaina could never really tell her that to her face. She ought to talk more with her, but well, years and responsibilities had their way of getting in the way--even for someone who tried to avoid them as much as Valeera did.

Valeera counted off on another red finger, “Two, something has changed about her soul. Which, you know, I also think no one quite understands either. I know that some undead keep their bonds through their undeath, others don't. She obviously wasn’t one of them.”

“Obviously,” Jaina agreed. “And it’s been a subject of much debate and research ever since the Third War. I remember finding notes Kinndy would make about it all the time. She kept a journal. I think she meant to talk to me about what she found one day, but she never did. Wait. I bet you read that journal when you were staying with us.”

“You know I did,” Valeera replied with a smirk. “You had lots of interesting books and people in Theramore in those days. And I won’t say anything beyond that because I don’t need you bursting into tears actively while I’m here. I’m not a crying person, Jaina. I don’t know what to do about, around, or for crying.”

“I know.”

She did know. Jaina knew that Valeera didn’t even have the emotional capacity for herself, let alone someone else, so it was all the more touching, or possibly concerning, that she came into this room at all. Perhaps she felt she owed a debt for the times that Jaina had seen her in tears herself--unbidden and unwelcome all the same--and had held her through them.

In Theramore, Jaina had held so many people through so many tears. She’d been a rock--no, an anchor. An anchor can still hold fast while it sinks.

“Good,” Valeera noted, then held up a third finger. “Moving on. Three, whatever it is that happened literally just happened. So, it’s not like anyone really knows besides you and her and whoever is with her right now.”

Which was its own unsettling thought. Who even was with her? Sylvanas, even in death, really only kept select company. Her Rangers, probably, the same as ever. Only they were as dead as she was. Jaina had been dealing with reports of Nathanos Marris stalking the countryside of Kul Tiras during her week of learning to assume the Lord Admiral’s duties. Though now apparently he called himself Nathanos Blightcaller and was particularly keen on small acts of terrorism. He still clung to Sylvanas like a flea, just as he had in his living days. Jaina knew the names of others too. Anya Eversong. Vorel Daystrike. Velonara Dawnsea. Clea Goldenpath.

All names and faces she remembered, laughing and welcoming her. Faces that had changed so much since--now all ashen skin and red eyes and Horde banners. Did the elven women she remembered give themselves new names too? Did they forsake their legacies when they took on the banner for the Forsaken?

Jaina didn’t know. She didn’t know so much. Once, it had felt pertinent to avoid those details for sanity’s sake, but now she cursed herself, wishing she’d kept up. Though, to be fair, she certainly didn’t ever think that she’d be facing the problem she was now.

Jaina looked at her hand again as Valeera seemed to struggle with a fourth detail to ground them in.

“What do you think happened?” Jaina asked as she stared at the blue moon that was etched into her skin.

“I don’t know,” Valeera said with an incredulous wave of that hand before her reasonings vanished with it. “Maybe she sacrificed a baby about it? Who knows?”

It was so easy to believe something ridiculous like that. So easy to just push the divide further apart by saying that Sylvanas was on the bad side and Jaina was on the good. And while she had burned world trees and waged war and done awful things, Jaina knew, deep down, that both sides of the war were as guilty as each other. She longed for a commitment to neutrality like Valeera had created for herself, but even then, Valeera herself had just said she was on her way to do something for Anduin, and therefore something for the Alliance. No one could really escape it.

But for every Theramore, there was a purge of Dalaran. Jaina had learned to stop counting losses long ago, before she’d even begun to stop herself from saying Sylvanas’ name aloud. Trying to add up tit for tat only left one with a headache and a feeling of being owed. War didn’t owe anything to anyone. It just was.

All the same, she knew Sylvanas probably didn’t sacrifice a baby about it. No, Sylvanas Windrunner, known war criminal, was usually a great deal more shrewd and subtle than that, even when it was easy to say she was a soulless husk of undeath and misery. At least she was in the opinion of one Jaina Proudmoore, also known war criminal.

“Where were you going after this, Valeera?” Jaina thought to ask.

“I see what you’re about to do and I shouldn’t like it,” Valeera told her. “But the answer is none of your business.”

“Is it Dazar’alor?”

It was a good guess that made sense, to Jaina’s credit. Anduin was very concerned about the Horde attacking Boralus, but also respectful enough of Jaina’s choice to continue waiting to see what would happen next before offering her navy. He would be quite concerned about what they were planning. And if they were planning an assault, it would come from the port of the very neutral naval faction that they were courting, and the one who would be very happy to wipe out any remaining Kul Tiran dominance on the seas.

“And if it is?” Valeera asked.

It was. It had to be. The way she was glaring at Jaina, with a little smirk as she gestured for the flask again.

Jaina handed it to her. “I’m just saying, Anduin might want to know what’s going on with her. On her ship. If it’s still in the harbor, that is.”

“I suppose if I were to trip over the Banshee’s Wail, the very flagship of the Horde fleet, that I could let you know what was going on around her decks,” Valeera offered without really offering before she took one more big swig of the whiskey. Probably too big of one for someone about to go on an espionage mission, but Jaina wasn’t here to judge or tell her how to do her job--or who to do it for, for that matter.

“If you choose to do so, then please be careful,” Jaina requested, holding her hand out for the flask.

Valeera handed it back one last time as she pushed herself off the bed and onto her feet with an acrobatic flourish she didn’t need to add, but did anyway. “If I choose to do anything, you know that you really don’t have a choice in the matter. But, if I see her, I’ll try to figure out what’s happened.”

“Only because you’re curious yourself, of course,” Jaina offered as an excuse before taking her own sip of whiskey.

“Of course,” Valeera said with a red-lipped smirk that her shoulder and hood almost hid. Almost.

She began to walk away, and Jaina almost thought to call her back, rather than watch her fade into the shadows again. But Valeera stopped. She didn’t fade.

Instead, she asked, “Did you love her, Jaina?”

“Before?” was ever the question.

“What other time was there?”

“Not much. But yes, I loved her,” Jaina said.

Jaina had known that from the moment she first saw her--grinning and golden as she waited at the portal. Vibrant and a little cocky--her smile lopsided and her hair obnoxiously perfect. She was tall and broad-shouldered, stiff-backed but with laughter that rang first in her eyes. Soft grey eyes that were gone now, replaced by sinister crimson. Sun-kissed skin with a tiny smattering of freckles, and that too was gone--now cold and ashen.

Loved was the right tense. Jaina didn’t know this Sylvanas, this woman who stood on the other side of the battlefield--who normally wouldn’t even look at her when they were close enough to share a glance. Only once, really, did she. It had been so recent and so chilling that Jaina couldn’t yet banish the memory.

She couldn’t quite forget how she’d caught Sylvanas’ eyes in the throne room at Lordaeron, and watched for a moment as they flickered from rage and mocking and fear and then to her, and to a brief moment of something else. A softness that was not at home amidst red fury. An apology. A plea. A wail that she wouldn’t let out. A moment that only they shared.

A weakness, Jaina had told herself. A weakness for them both, she reminded herself.

“She was the best thing to ever happen to me, and then the worst,” Jaina went on. “And if you’re asking me how I feel right now, I don’t have an answer. I feel everything and nothing, and I don’t know enough to feel either.”

That was one way to put it, at least. The whiskey wasn’t the only thing turning Jaina’s stomach. She honestly had no idea what to do or what was happening. And for everything, the lack of control over the situation was probably the worst thing of all.

“And people wonder why I’m not obsessed with looking for my one true love,” Valeera said, affecting a silly voice for the last bit. “No thank you. I’d rather not ever be in your shoes. Or really ever have to care that much about anyone but me.”

“You’re a good friend, Valeera,” Jaina told her, despite the fact that being free of any attachment sounded very good and very logical right now.

“That’s it, I’m leaving,” Valeera stated as she whipped her cloak around with a bit more drama than was warranted.

“Be safe,” Jaina warned all the same.

“I’m always safe,” Valeera told her. “You’re the one who is in danger of being something else besides safe right now. Go to bed and sleep off that whiskey, Lord Admiral. Hopefully by the time you wake, some kind rogue will have left a bit of helpful information at your doorstep.”

Valeera faded into the night, melting into the shadows of Jaina’s doorway as she let herself out. The door closed on what seemed like nothing by a breeze in the darkness, rustling curtains with it as it went.

From the window, the moon still peered inside. Dim and listless as the crescent on Jaina’s hand. Waning.

Maybe it was tired of its constant vigil. Jaina knew she certainly was.

Valeera’s advice was good, and Jaina knew she should follow it. She put the flask back into the bedside drawer, nearly empty now, and made a note to top it off later. And while she did feel some of the buzz of the whiskey warming her thoughts and trying to coax them away from her worries, Jaina didn’t think she’d sleep again that night. Even as she laid back down, her mind raced with what all this could mean. What she would do. What the morning would bring.

But then at the back of it, that slow and serene warmth started to creep in. Sylvanas slept soundly and peacefully somewhere in this world. She always had back in life. Jaina had used that thread of a connection to lull herself to sleep many times. She’d even written Sylvanas a few letters thanking her for that fact. And even the night before she died, she’d slept like a rock, and Jaina had tumbled after that feeling, wanting to believe everything would be all right, even as she knew that Arthas was besieging the Elf Gates with everything he had.

So it was only natural that Jaina did find her sleep in that old comfort. In the lie and strangeness of it. Because it was a guilty pleasure only she would know of and reach for and understand. It might be her only chance to have it again tonight, after all. Or maybe this too was some cruel dream.

It was hard to say.

Just as it was hard to say where the line between dream and memory was for her. Because sleep immediately put her into one that was both. But not the same one. This was new but old. A perfectly rendered scene of a day long past. And through her shred of self-awareness, Jaina could only wonder how it would twist into wrongness again.

She watched as Sylvanas turned to grin at her, shutting the door to her room in Windrunner Spire behind her. She wore nothing but a robe that would be considered scandalously short by human standards, but Jaina certainly didn’t mind the view it gave of her long, toned legs. Definitely not at all, from where she lay on the bed, naked but for the silken sheets that only covered a very small portion of her.

“Breakfast, lunch, and dinner ordered. The cook will drop them at the door,” Sylvanas declared proudly. “I realize now that I don’t even know what you like to eat for either and probably should have asked.”

“I’m not picky,” Jaina said with a laugh. “But I also don’t know what’s common for breakfast in a noble house in Quel’thalas.”

“We still have so much to learn,” Sylvanas said, the delight at that notion plain and beautiful on her face.

“We’ll get there,” Jaina encouraged her, beckoning her grinning elf over toward the bed again.

Sylvanas was all too-happy to oblige that request, and even undid the sash of her robe as she strode over, giving Jaina a very nice view of the front of her before she laid beside her. The silk of the robe draped them both like a waterfall. It was a deep cobalt blue, edged with gold, as all of Sylvanas’ things seemed to be.

Jaina slid her hand beneath it, pulling Sylvanas close as she told her, “I like elven coffee, for one, so if breakfast has that, it’s already a win in my book.”

“Of course it does,” Sylvanas told her. “In an enchanted carafe that won’t get cold, should you be distracted from breakfast. And we like pastries here in Quel’thalas. So probably some of those. And fruit. Lots of fruit.”

“Who doesn’t like pastries, coffee, and fruit?” Jaina asked with a laugh. “But the distraction sounds like a threat.”

“Mmm, it is. Truly a monstrous threat,” Sylvanas joked even as she made good on that threat, reaching out to pull her closer as well.

She buried her face in Jaina’s neck, growling playfully as she kissed along it. Jaina could feel her smile into the skin as she no doubt felt the echo of Jaina’s own shiver of pleasure at the act. This shared sensation was new and addicting, especially when combined with sex. Jaina was quite certain that an entire day would not be enough. They would probably need months to get over this, if the night before had been any indication.

Not that she was in a hurry to. Especially as that surge of confidence radiated back to her and started a loop she knew would carry them through long after breakfast had been delivered. She only hoped the cook didn’t have very good hearing. Though he was an elf, so likely not.

And Jaina didn’t care. She stopped caring the moment Sylvanas’ lips whispered across her clavicle and into the hollow of her throat. She’d lost all sense of space and time and what could or would or should be appropriate when Sylvanas tugged her closer and closer until there was only skin touching skin touching skin and a little silk of the robe inbetween and the echoing of it through one another. This was so unlike anything Jaina had ever felt and so very much worth days being spent introducing herself to three dozen odd Rangers and officers and magisters and nobles and Windrunner cousins.

But they didn’t exist now. Not anymore. The world was only them. It was only Sylvanas’ satisfaction in her growing arousal, and Jaina’s bliss in those strong arms she already knew could do so much for her, but was about to learn would do more.

As if Sylvanas understood that without it being said, she used those strong arms to flip them, laughing as she did, until they were both sitting on the soft mattress, and the sheets had fallen away. Then Sylvanas guided Jaina into her lap, and had her kneel there.

“Let me see you in the morning sun,” Sylvanas pleaded, her voice soft and low. Her grey eyes shone with wicked promises.

Jaina could feel a twinge of importance in this request. Maybe it was something cultural, or just the desires of her new lover to watch her this way. Either way, she knew Sylvanas felt the shiver of the request run through her.

Still, she answered, “You can see all of me, whenever you like.”

Sylvanas seemed satisfied at this, though that was an understatement for what Jaina felt across the bond. A bit of surprise. A fair bit of heady attraction. And love. Certainly love.

Sylvanas placed a sweet kiss to the center of her chest, right at the apex of her sternum, then drew her closer and finally touched Jaina where she very much needed to be touched. She watched her as she rubbed slow circles over her clit, and Jaina could feel the delight in how wet she was for her reverberating on top of her own pleasure. It was exhilarating and inebriating at the same time. She was drunk on Sylvanas and the way she made her feel, and how that made her feel in turn.

This was the part of the soulmate bond no one ever talked about, and honestly, Jaina didn’t quite know how she’d even venture to explain it herself. Suffice to say, the sex was insane. And she had a lifetime of it to look forward to.

And if Sylvanas had any complaints about their using this sacred bond so that she could feel how it felt to ride her own fingers once she added them to the mix, then she certainly wasn’t complaining. Nor was Jaina at the reflection of the sensation of herself tightening around them. And not at all when Sylvanas was gasping at the echoes of Jaina’s pleasure into her ear as she came.

The dream never turned. It kept to the memory as Jaina knew it, as she never let herself experience it in her waking hours. It stayed a morning in which she became quite grateful for the enchanted carafe, as the coffee would have long been cold by the time they remembered it. It played out just the same even as Sylvanas finally poured her a steaming cup of it--her hair a mess and eyes wild and grin bigger than ever. The robe was still on her somehow, clinging only to one shoulder. Jaina watched herself, happiest that she’d ever been, debate with her lover about whether they should have a nap or a bath after they ate, like it was the only important decision they’d ever have to make.

And she envied them. She envied the lie they lived in that moment. The old, golden moment.

#Sylvanas Windrunner #Jaina Proudmoore #sylvaina #fanfic #beneath the blue moon #i added the spice earlier than expected for the full spice crowd #let's get our money out of that e rating

[highlifeboat]

Something was amiss, Zoe knew that when she woke up in the middle of the night and found the spot beside her on the bed empty. The soft purple glow of the lava lamp sitting on the dresser gave off enough light for her to see Mia had managed to slip out of bed undetected, and the realization stirred up the anxiety in her stomach. She knew it was ridiculous to assume the worst, but it didn’t keep her mind from racing with all kinds of ideas. Ideas she tried to shove to the back of her mind as she pushed herself out of bed and made her way towards the slightly ajar door.

Zoe pushed it open more. There weren’t any other lights on within the apartment, and the southerner tensed with the noise of rustling from the darkness. She swallowed, paranoia pushing her to once again imagine the worst.

It probably was just Mia rustling around.

But what if it wasn’t?

What if it was Mama, or Daddy, or Lucas, or… her?

Or what if it was Mia, but it was her  Mia?

That thought probably scared Zoe the most. Flashes of hiding from Mia as she stumbled through the Baker Home plagued her mind as she stared into the darkness of the apartment hall.

”Zoe, come out… Evie has a gift for you…”

”I know you’re mad… Come out! Come out so we can talk, sweetheart!”

”GET YOUR FUCKING ASS OUT HERE, GODDAMN IT!”

”Zoe, please….”

The memories sent a shiver down her spine, and, perhaps out of the deep rooted fear, she backtracked a moment and gingerly picked up the metal baseball bat propped up near the bed. More as a precaution than anything else. Even if it wasn’t something horrific, it was good to be prepared. With a long inhale she stepped out into the hallway, bat gripped in both hands, eyes trying to scan the dark to see if she could spot any sign of her missing companion.

The rustling got louder as she approached the main room of the apartment. Hesitantly, she peered around the corner. In the small kitchenette she spotted the silhouette, lit up by the moon shining in through the window. It was hunched over the counter, back turned to the woman as she slowly started to approach it.

Then she paused.

“Mia?”

The older woman jumped as Zoe flipped the lights on in the small kitchen, eyes wide as they stared at one another. Zoe raised an eyebrow at the sight of her girlfriend, half naked, and mouth full of a peanut butter sandwich, the rest of which was quickly dropped onto the counter. Mia straightened, the surprise on her face suddenly turning into something much more fearful. Zoe started to approach the other woman, only pausing when Mia began to press herself against the counter, letting out a small whimper. She sank to the floor, knees to her chest as she wrapped her arms around herself. Zoe pursed her lips, looking between the discarded food on the counter, and the woman on the floor.

“You…. snuck out of bed…. to make a sandwich?”

Mia simply whimpered again, arms tightening around herself when Zoe took another step towards her. She looked so small as she buried her face in her knees. So scared. Her entire body was tense, like a child bracing for the next hit from their father’s belt. Zoe’s chest tightened, gently setting the baseball bat on the floor as she knelt in front of the woman. She gently touched Mia’s arm, earning a sharp inhale and a flinch.

A quiet sigh escaped Zoe as she rubbed Mia’s arm with her thumb. “It’s alright, hun. I ain’t gonna hurt you….” She stated softly, though it didn’t get Mia to look at her. She chewed the inside of her cheek. “Heck… this is… uh…. actually a good thing.” She tried to reassure. Mia peered up at her through a curtain of hair. “Yeah… Yeah! You came out here, and you got food all on your own. Without me havin’ to hound you at all.” Zoe gave her a small smile. “It might not seem like a lot, but… this is good, Mia. This is progress.”

Mia lifted her head up more, allowing Zoe to cup her cheek.

“This is good.” She repeated, running her thumb along Mia’s cheek. “You’re doin’ so good….”

The older woman pursed her lips for a moment before leaning her head into the touch. They stayed like that for a moment, before Zoe took Mia by her hands and stood, pulling her girlfriend from the fetal position she’d been in. Mia shifted on her feet, hesitating before taking Zoe’s arm and tapping on her wrist.

“S-o-r-r-y. R-e-a-l-l-y-h-u-n-g-r-y”

Zoe chuckled a bit. “I would imagine…” She chewed the inside of her cheek again, watching Mia hesitantly glance towards the other half of her sandwich. “Actually… I could use a bit of a midnight snack myself, anyway.”

She slipped out of Mia’s hand, moving to the other side of the small kitchen and digging through the cupboard until she pulled out a granola bar. The other watched her as she peeled the wrapper off and took a bite from it. Turning back to Mia, she nodded her head at the sandwich half.

“Better eat it before I do.” She joked.

Mia gave the smallest amused huff, but quickly grabbed the sandwich and started stuffing what she could into her mouth, and Zoe laughed a bit while telling her to slow down so she wouldn’t choke. She couldn’t say this was exactly the direction she thought Mia’s recovery would go, but she also supposed midnight snacking was better than nothing at all.

Part of her just hoped it wouldn’t become a habit.

#i bring zia #drabbles #mia winters #zoe baker #zia #tw implied ed #implied ed #tw implied eating disorder #tw implied abuse

[deonaenaeh]

genshin men — seeing them cry for the first time

i love bennett, i am his legal mom i have adopted him ever since the beginning of time. he is my precious child. i am the whole bennett protection squad and anyone who hurts him will have their chargers only working on a certain angle.

• genshin men x fem!reader

✎ currently editing other parts

!! tw : heavy angst, self-esteem issues !!

┌─ ❊ bennett

“One Sweet Madame and one Steak. That would be 650 Mora.” Sara packed your orders while you fished for your wallet and paid.

“Thank you Sara!” You carried the packages.

“Anytime.” She smiled and handed your change.

You left Good Hunter and skipped towards the Adventurer’s Guild.

You sprinted towards his room and slowed down once you realized the door was slightly ajar.

“Bennett!” You called. “Let’s have dinner together!”

There was no reply.

“Bennett?” You knocked. “I’m coming in.”

You slowly swung the door open. The room was empty except for…many scorch marks all over: on his walls, drawer, table… everywhere.

You almost dropped the food.

“Bennett?! Wh-what happened here?!” You frantically placed the food you ordered on the table and ran towards the other guild members in the main hall.

You halted in the hallway only to be greeted by many more scorch marks all over the walls. Even the training arena was covered in dark soot.

Everyone was grumbling and pacing around trying to clean it up.

“What happened in here?! Where’s Bennett?!” You demanded. “Is he okay?! His room was scorched!”

“Ugh curse him!” One of the guild members stomped towards you. “He caused this!”

“What?”

“He literally blew everything up!” Another guild member said. “He’s such a pain to be with.”

“What? Bennett wouldn’t do such a thing…”

“He just blows everything up! Literally a figuratively! Why did the gods even give him a Vision?!” The members started complaining. “He makes everything worse!”

You glared at them. “Are you hearing yourselves? Are you hearing how stupid you all sound? You blame every unfortunate thing that happens to you on Bennett!”

You waved your hands. “Now look at what you’ve fucking done! He’s run away because you all keep treating him like a burden and now he probably thinks he is one. It’s not his fault he was given a Vision in the first place! At least he has a Vision, because he actually works hard unlike you people who complain about training all day!”

You turned and walked away. “I’m gonna look for him and I swear to archons if anything bad happened to him it would be because of all of you.”

Everyone watched you go in silence, guilted by your anger.

You grabbed your food, two sweaters, and a blanket, and dashed out of the gates of Mondstadt.

Thank the archons you had Elemental Sight because it would’ve taken you hours to look for your adventure buddy without it.

You found Bennett in Windrise, sitting on the porch on the Statue of the Seven. You assumed it was because he had to heal from all the burns he caused on himself.

He hadn’t noticed you yet as he continued sobbing with his head down on his knees until you gently draped a warm sweater over his shoulders.

“You might get a cold.” You whispered.

Bennett looked up at you. He quickly wiped his tears and forced a smile.

“Hey ______!” He tried to sound happy.

It broke your heart to see him that way.

“Bennett…” You pulled him into a hug. “I’m so sorry…”

He hugged you back. “No worries! I’m okay!”

“No Bennett it’s not okay. The way they treated you was not okay.” You pulled away to look at him. “What happened? Come on tell me…”

Bennett dropped his joyful facade. His eyes lost their spark as he sniffed.

“I was told to light the campfire. But I accidentally caused an explosion while doing so. I apologized but instead I just got scolded repeatedly. Every time they scolded me, I panicked which caused me to blow up fire everywhere. I tried to hide in my room to calm myself down but…I ended up blowing more than I had expected…I…I can’t control it…”

Bennett buried his face in his hands and started sobbing again.

“I’ m a burden! All I do is cause trouble! I’m no good. I’m bad luck. I’m cursed. I screw everything up! I HATE MYSELF!”

You started tearing up. “Bennett no…”

He started bawling as he took his goggles off. “I’m so tired of everyone telling me how much of a pain in the ass I am! I’m never good enough! Everything I do is wrong! Everything is MY FAULT! It’s always me me me me who’s done something wrong!”

You pulled Bennett into a hug again as he began losing control of himself. He sobbed on your shoulder.

“I hate myself, ______.” His voice was muffled as he continuously talked to himself negatively. “I hate myself…”

“It’s okay Bennett let it out…I’m here for you…” You rubbed his back reassuringly. Bennett hugged you tighter.

“Ever since I got my Vision, I knew the gods had faith in me. But now, it’s just a nuisance…”

“Bennett, don’t mind what people say. You’re not a burden, you’re not a mistake, and you’re definitely not bad luck. People always have something to nitpick about you but that’s not your problem. There’s nothing wrong with you. You are the nicest, kindest, and most passionate person I know and you deserve to be loved and appreciated.” You brushed his hair away from his eyes. “You’re my sunshine.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

After a while, Bennett started to calm down. His breathing gradually became steadier as you caressed his hair.

“You okay?” You whispered.

“Y-yeah I’m feeling better…” He looked up at you. “Thanks for being there for me, ______.”

“Anytime buddy.”

You two realized how close you were and mutually pulled away in embarrassment.

You kinda just sat there beside each other awkwardly for a while. You both knew something was forming between the two of you.

You nervously fiddled with the hem of your sleeve and took a deep breath.

“I like you, Bennett.”

“I like you, ______.”

You turned to each other in shock as you confessed at the same time.

“Wait, for real?” He asked, bewildered.

“Y-yes.”

“Like, like like?”

“Yes…” You hid your face in the hood of your sweater.

Bennett was just in utter shock as his face flared crimson.

Did the girl of my dreams just say that she liked me back?! He stared at you dumbfounded.

“Bennett? Oh my god I broke him.”

“I am the luckiest boy in the world.” He uttered.

You wheezed.

He started hyperventilating both out of euphoria and anxiety.

You quickly held the food you ordered before him. “I got you Steak!”

That snapped him out of his trance and his mouth began to water. “Really?!”

“Yeah come on!”

You both walked up the hill and settled the blanket on the grass, right beside the tree. You sat in your little picnic place and ate and laughed together.

You’d do everything just to make him smile, and Bennett would do just the same for you.

After finishing up, you sat against the tree and looked up at the stars.

“So…i-is this like a date?” He asked.

You chuckled and kissed his cheek. “If you say so, then it is.”

He smiled warmly.

“Bennett, you are my favorite adventure.”

“Well ______,” He leaned on your shoulder and intertwined his fingers with yours. “You feel like home.”

#genshin impact #genshin bennett #bennett x reader #fanfiction #genshin fanfiction #oneshot #genshin one shot #one shot #heavy angst #bennett is baby #bennett needs a hug #fem!reader

[boxofbadaddiction]

The Trouble With Parenthood

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Swearing. Small moment of Daddy Kink. Sexual References and Depictions of Sex.

Requested

Fred and Y/n's relationship had always involved a very healthy sex life. Like...very healthy, okay they couldn't keep their hands off each other. It'd been like that when they'd begun dating and continued through their marriage - if anything it'd gotten worse once they'd put that ring on one another's finger.

So as you could imagine, an abrupt stopper in their regular love making had left the couple feeling rather...frustrated.

This 'stopper's name was Cassidy. 'Cassi' for short.

As it is for every parent, the day she were born had been the happiest day of Fred and Y/ns life. She was the perfect daughter from the moment she'd been born. Happy, healthy and not at all fussy. However, recently she had become quite clingy.

Not that it had bothered her parents. Honestly, they'd found it endearing how much she wanted to spend time with them...in the beginning anyway. But it is safe to say that the couple were in desperate need of some "Mummy and Daddy Time." Because, as Fred so delicately put it; his 'balls have never been so blue'. A comment which would have been much more amusing to y/n if she were not so pent up herself.

Though this sexless patch of their relationship was not due to their lack of trying mind you.

They'd seemingly tried everything, for a moment to themselves. But these days with the small issue of 'monsters in the closet', Cassi had settled herself in bed between her parents to sleep most nights, so that ruled out sex before bed. Of course there was always fleeting moments in the bathroom...until Cassi learned how to reach the door handles. Now no room was safe from intrusions.

Feeling rather adventurous y/n had even set up a long lunch at work one day with the intent on surprising Fred at the shop. It was nearly a success...until an unsuspecting George wandered into the otherwise occupied back Office. He was mortified to say the least.

They'd tried setting up a 'date night' arrangement; but after Fred mistakenly let slip his current predicament to George, and their little incident at work, they were shit out of luck for a babysitter as his brother found the whole situation were just 'too fucking funny'.

Which brings us to tonight.

Y/n trudged into her and Freds bedroom after a very long day at work and an extra long goodnight to their daughter down the hall - which involved more than the usual amount of bedtime stories being shared.

Stepping through the door she were met with the very tired body of Fred sprawled across their bed. She couldn't help but chuckle at the sight; he were laid with one arm slung across his eyes, as the other rested on his stomach and one knee were raised - swaying lazily in place.

Closing the door behind her y/n rest her weight back against the hardwood letting out a heavy breath.

"Is she down?" Fred asked at the sound of her entering the room. "Mmm, finally." She replied, pushing her body from the door she began to ready herself for bed, mentally crossing her fingers, hopeful for some decent rest tonight.

She kicked off her shoes and let her hair loose from it's tie before stripping to just her knickers and finding one of Freds old shirts, she had taken to sleeping in, and throwing it on.

"Leave the shirt off" Freds voice came as a tired groan from his place on the bed. His words caused y/n to turn her head, seeing his arm now rested slightly higher on his forehead as he watched her. He was grinning, tongue pressing against his cheek, clearly enjoying the view.

Y/n licked her lips, pulling her bottom lip through her teeth as his stare burned hot on her skin. She raised a teasing brow as she slowly began to glide a hand up her side and over the soft fabric of the t-shirt she'd thrown on. Fingers delicately caressed the space between her breasts until a single finger came to lazily play with the shirts collar. Tugging just enough to expose the tops of her cleavage. Running her finger slowly back and forth across the collars seam she approached the bedside.

The arm Fred had slung across his face moved, fingers furrowing through his fiery locks, to prop his head further on the pillow for a better view of the stunning woman before him. He smirked, inhaling deeply, in amusement; thoroughly enjoying her little show for him.

"Don't go teasing me, love. Its been a long few weeks." His tone was firm but playful, the same one that never failed to turn y/ns knees weak and have her thighs rubbing together. Tonight was no different. If anything it were worse from their lack of intimacy as of late.

Smiling sweetly in place beside the mattress she ran both hands up from her knees, along her exposed thighs to lift the shirts sides. Fred shifted in place, supporting himself onto his elbow his eyes hungrily traced her fingers movements as they hooked below the waistband of her underwear and pulled them off.

Tauntingly she dangled the lace garment from her forefinger before throwing it at his chest playfully.

Unable to restrain himself a moment longer he simultaneously discarded her panties to the opposite side of the room and with his other hand grasped her hip, roughly pulling her onto the bed below him. He kissed her passionately as a hand raked up the inside of her thigh, ghosting over the skin to rest on her waist.

Y/n smiled into the kiss; both hands tangling in his hair as she shifted beneath him so he were resting comfortably between her legs. As the tension began to build y/n aided Fred in shedding layers of his clothing; left in his singlet and briefs. His erection felt pressing against her core through the thin material. Y/ns hand came down to eagerly palm at his bulge when-

"DAAADDYYYY!" Cassi's voice called beggingly from her room.

Fred groaned in frustration, head falling to the crook of his wife's neck as he mumbled something inaudibly, though it sounded undoubtedly along the lines of 'For Merlin's sake, not now'.

"Go to bed, Baby!" He yelled over his shoulder, "Daddy's busy." He spoke the last words to y/n in a lustful tone. Admiring her flustered appearance, he moved to kiss her again as-

"DAAADDYYY!!"

"Godrick, what'd I do to deserve this?" He grumbled causing y/n to giggle. "Go to her." She nudged, "I'll still be here when you get back." Fred sat back onto his knees, pointing a stern finger as he spoke "Don't fall asleep." "I won't." Y/n replied as he got off the bed and made his way to the door.

"Can't guarantee I won't start without you though."

Fred turned back, watching from just outside the door as a wicked grin settled across her features. "Don't you dare." He warned taking a step back toward the room.

Y/n raised her brow; challenging his dominance. One hand delicately played with her exposed collar bone as her other crept down her body, disappearing between her thighs.

Her back arched as she ran fingers through her slick folds, a soft moan filling the room. Fred made another move back towards the bedroom, hand clutching the door frame as he-

"DADDY!!!" Another call from their daughter. He peered back down the hall, eyeing her bedroom door which were slightly ajar. "Daddy?" Y/n spoke in a low sultry tone, deliberately trying to rile him up.

Fred frustratidly ran a hand over his eyes, facing quite the personal dilemma. Groaning loudly he shook his head, seemingly shaking the sense and strength into himself as he marched down the hallway in a huff. Y/n was unable to restrain the laughter that erupted from her chest at his reaction.

While Fred tended to their daughter y/n took the moment to get comfortable. Lighting a candle and fluffing the pillows below her head to find the best position for when her husband returns in any second...

Any minute now. He's probably just reading her a quick story to get her settled.

Maybe she should just start without him?

That was the last thought to cross her mind before she found herself waking from a sleep she hadn't meant to fall into. Fred had laid down beside her. "Oh, so you are coming back to bed?" Y/n asked sarcastically, voice groggy. "Mmm. Told you not to fall asleep." He quipped, tucking himself in next to her side. One arm snuck beneath her shoulder blades, pulling her into him, as the other wrapped around her waist. "I wouldn't have, had you'd been back sooner." Y/n nestled in against his chest as she felt him place a kiss to her head.

"Had to read her a story. Then one turned to two; two to three and soon enough I realised I'd been conned by a 4 year old. She's a brat...just like her Mother." The couple chuckled before falling quickly off to sleep.

Y/n was the first to wake the next morning. Smiling giddily at the disheveled appearance of her partner as well as the similar position of her daughter down the hall, she decided to ready breakfast as the two slept.

She were half way through her pancake batter when Fred's strong arms wrapped her in a tight embrace. His hands lightly squeezed at her sides as he kissed the exposed skin of her neck.

"Morning" he mumbled against her skin. "Smells good."

"I woke up with such a craving so just thought I'd start cooking, while you two obviously decided you'd sleep all day." She chuckled to which Fred hummed in response. "I wasn't talking about the food."

Reaching one arm past hers Fred switched off the stove and move the pan from its burner. "Hey! What are yo-"

Y/n didn't have a chance to finish her sentence as she was quickly spun to face her lover. Pushed flush into the cold counter as his lips connected with hers. She moaned contently into the kiss as she felt his hands run below her ass and she was then hoisted onto the counter top beside the stove.

"I'm not hungry for that." His expression was stern and his voice low. Roughly pulling her legs apart his hands hooked the underside of her knees, pulling to bring her to the edge of the bench.

Her lips were brought back to his as a hand grasped the nape of her neck and he stepped between her legs which wrapped eagerly around his waist.

Their movements were passionate and quickly becoming more heated; soon finding themselves fucking roughly on the kitchen bench their only thoughts set on each other.

With every hard thrust from Fred y/ns head and shoulders were being pushed against the cabinetry, whilst Fred buried his head in her neck biting softly on the bare skin to keep himself relatively quiet.

"God, Fred I'm close." Y/n moaned.

A groan came deep from within Fred's throat in response which sent chills through his lovers body. He pulled back and brought a hand to grasp her chin kissing her. His thrusts slowed as he relished in the feeling of her tongue against his as-

"Mummy?" a tired voice spoke from the other side of the room. "Fuck!" Fred breathed through gritted teeth as he pulled out and covered himself. Y/n jumped down from the bench flattening the shirts ends to cover herself as well. "Yeah, Sweetie?" She asked hurriedly trying to sound as normal as possible. "What are you doing?" "Nothing baby, Daddy and I are just cooking breakfast." She eyed Fred somewhat panicked as he leant over the island bench of their flat, in attempt to hide a certain problem- "ah, That's right." He nodded a hand coming over his mouth to restrain the shocked laughter threatening to spill out.

"Why were you on the bench? You told me we weren't allowed to sit on the bench."

"That's right, I'm sorry baby I shouldn't have been up there. Won't happen again."

Fred's head snapped over his shoulder to peer at y/n with furrowed brows, "it won't?" He questioned. He'd been quite enjoying their little indiscretion until the unexpected appearance of their daughter, he would gladly throw her atop the counter again in a heartbeat.

Y/ns eyes widen, lips forming a thin line in a statement which helped realisation dawn on her partner. "Oh, yep. Won't happen again." He smiled innocently to Cassi. "Princess, why don't you go grab the mail from the front then we can start breakfast." He winked as she excitedly skipped to the front door.

He looked back to his wife who was rubbing forcibly at her eyes. Chuckling as he placed both hands to her hips, a guesture which brought her attention back to him. "God, she's going to be traumatised when she's older if she ever realises." "Pay back for being a cock block." Fred laughed as Y/n slapped him with the spatula she'd been using earlier.

"Sad thing is; that's the closest we've gotten in weeks to...ya know." "Not close enough." Fred grumbled placing a quick kiss to her lips. "Let's eat. I'm starving."

Y/n let out a sharp breath, watching as she noticed Cassi bound into the room and sit up patiently at the table, mail placed neatly in front of her as she traced the lettering on the envelopes.

"I'm not hungry for that." Y/n whispered into Fred's ear, looking back up to him with big eyes before an evil smile came across her face and she reached out to palm him gently.

Fred's head fell back and he inhaled sharply, clenching his jaw before letting out a heavy breath. Until his own sly grin crept across his lips and he was smiling back down to his wife.

"Hey, Princess." He called over his shoulder, not breaking eye contact with Y/n "What do you say about a sleep over at Grandma and Grandpa's tonight?"

#fred weasley x reader #Fred weasley smut #Fred weasley #Harry potter fanfiction #Fred weasley fanfiction

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 8 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Chapter 8 is here!

Title: Succession Chapter 8

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader, OC

Rating: R for language and explicit gore (may be triggering with the descriptions of the bodies in the factory)

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary.  While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Note: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village. This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter 8

The soft tugging of your wrists woke you from sleep.  You blinked rapidly and looked up to see Heisenberg removing the cuffs and setting them on the floor.

“What are you doing?” you asked, bringing your hands close to your body and rubbing your wrists.

“Sorry to wake you,” Heisenberg murmured, “but I’m going to work for a while downstairs...didn’t want you to be shackled to the bed the whole time.  Do you need to use the bathroom before I go?”

You nodded your head, realizing you were in need of the facilities.  Standing slowly to your feet, you padded to the door and walked across the way into the bathroom.  Once you relieved yourself, you washed your hands and made your way back to the room.

“I’ll be down there for several hours,” Heisenberg said as he rinsed his hands in the sink, “I’ll probably skip lunch.  Help yourself to whatever is in the refrigerator.”

You thanked him and curled back up under the covers.  You couldn’t believe it, but this fucked-up picture of domesticity was starting to grow on you.  Last night’s dinner outside at sunset was quite pleasant.  Heisenberg didn’t talk much aside from the occasional grunt or nod if you said anything.  It seemed that something was weighing on his mind.  And when you asked him what he had been working on at his desk a few hours earlier, he once again told you to mind your business.

Heisenberg put on his hat, sunglasses, and trenchcoat and left without another word, closing the door behind him.

You fell asleep for another three hours before finally waking up and looking over at his clock on his nightstand.  The time read 11:46am.

Rising from the bed, you cooked yourself some breakfast and filled a mug full of water.  You ate leisurely and leafed through a fashion magazine that had been stuffed into one of the suitcases Heisenberg had brought from the crash site.  

Once you were finished with your plates, you washed them in the sink and put them away.  You had made up your mind that you were going to shower.  You hadn’t washed since Heisenberg brought you here and it was creeping up on day three...or was it day four...five maybe?  Either way, you needed to wash.

You gathered your shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and sponge.  You also reached for your razor and shaving cream.  It had been several days since you shaved your legs and you wanted to be clean and smooth...just in case…

No, you thought, not because of Heisenberg!  But because I want to get back to feeling normal again!

There were a couple of towels hanging over the windowed walls of the shower, no doubt used by Heisenberg himself.  You made a mental note to ask him for towels of your own when he got back…

Then it occurred to you.  When he left, he closed the door, but you didn’t hear the loud click that his key usually made in the lock...

He didn’t lock the door.

*

As you shaved and showered, you mentally weighed the pros and cons of whether or not you should leave Heisenberg’s living quarters.  He had never not locked the door.  Maybe whatever work he had planned was at the forefront of his mind and he had simply forgotten to lock the door.  Or maybe, just as he trusted you to go back and forth from the bathroom without him keeping watch over you, maybe he was starting to trust you not to leave the room.

The monotony of the room was starting to become boring...perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to walk around and stretch your legs.

You put on a pair of jeans, a long sleeved shirt, socks, and sneakers. Promising yourself that you wouldn’t walk too far, you opened the door quietly and peeked out into the hallway, looking right and left.  Heisenberg wasn’t in the vicinity.  The usual sounds of the factory rang out in the distance.  You strained your hearing to listen for footsteps.  Except for you, the area was empty.

Pushing the door all the way open, you stepped out into the hall.  You walked down the hallway, making sure to keep your steps light and quiet.  The pounding of your pulse was ringing in your ears and you were terrified of Heisenberg finding you outside of his living quarters.   He would not be happy with you if he could see you at that moment.

You walked to a closed door and opened it to see the suspended walkway you had run across on your first day.  The noises were louder as you looked out among the metal, chains, steam, and rotating bodies.  A large body of water was several feet below you.  You stood there for a minute and looked all around, afraid that Heisenberg would be nearby and see you on the walkway.

The coast was clear.  You quickened your pace as you walked, making sure to tiptoe.  You reached the door on the other side, pushing it open.

This was uncharted territory. You didn’t know what was around the corner and made a mental note of which way you turned, how many flights of stairs you went up and down, and factory signs.  The signs were written in Romanian, but you sounded them out in your head in hopes you would remember your way back.

Occasionally you would open a door or two along the way, poking your head in and scanning the rooms.  A part of you felt guilty...you were being invasive and nosy.  This was Heisenberg’s home and even though he was keeping you here against your will, you thought it unlikely that he would want you poking around in his factory.  You could picture him now:  his brows furrowing, his gloved hands balling into fists, and his mighty voice booming as he yelled at you to get back to his quarters.

Dear god, why did that turn you on?

You had descended stairs earlier and hadn’t seen another set in quite a while, so you assumed you were down in the dregs of the factory.  It started to feel warmer the further down you went.  Why wasn’t Heisenberg’s room down here instead of higher up where the cold slid in through the walls so effortlessly?

You turned a corner and came up to a heavy steel door that was slightly ajar.  Leaning forward, you peered down a dark hall...with bodies hanging along the right side.  “Oh my god…” you whispered.  You couldn’t tell whether they were alive or dead, but a gas mask sat over each of their mouths and they hung from a tight leather strap wrapped around the breastbone and up under their arms.  Their skin was pale and their eyes closed.

Keeping your back flat against the left side of the hallway, you quietly and slowly made your way across.  You counted in your head...one, two, three, four, five, six bodies spaced out along the hallway.  Was this part of the work that Heisenberg was doing around here?  You shook your head.  Why was he doing this?  What was he doing with all of these bodies?

Another steel door was at the end of the hall and you silently turned the knob and pushed it open.

Upon entering the large room, you gasped audibly, your eyes wide.  The place looked like a morgue.  Five steel tables sat in the room...with five more corpses lying on top of them.  They each looked recently dead, their skin not as pale as the men hanging in the hallway behind you.  Decomposition had not occured yet.  The bodies had various trauma to them.  One was missing an arm.  One had its left leg sewed on.  

The other three were fitted with a visor over their eyes.  They laid shirtless on the tables.  One was a woman, her bare breasts visible with a gaping hole in her chest where her heart was supposed to be.  She was clothed from the waist down in a uniform that looked familiar...she was wearing a flight attendant’s uniform.  Could this be one of the attendants from your plane???

The other two bodies had something different over their left chest.  A circular metal contraption was lodged inside.  “What the fuck…” you murmured softly, walking amongst the carnage.  You were beginning to think that maybe you should have stayed inside Heisenberg’s quarters.

A door was opened on the other side of the room.  You crept towards it and looked inside.  The room stretched out before you and you could see a steel wall in the middle, separating one section of the room from the other.  A steel table stood next to the edge of the wall and you saw that you would have to circle it to see what was on the other side.  Swallowing the growing anxiety in your throat, you stepped closer.  

You reached the table and the wall and leaned forward, peering into the room.  Your mouth dropped, your eyes widened, and you gasped loudly.

“Bruce???”

Bruce Williams sat in what looked like a dentist’s chair, his body slumped forward.  A visor, just like the ones the three bodies were fitted with in the previous room, was also sitting over his eyes.  Three or four tubes were hanging from the ceiling and plugged into different areas on his body.  But the worst thing was his arm...the forearm from the elbow down was missing...and what replaced it was an electric saw.

A tear rolled down your cheek.  Oh, god, Bruce, you thought, what happened to you?

Before you were able to put two and two together, there was movement behind Bruce’s body.  An open door was against the back wall and Heisenberg entered the room, both of his hands holding surgical tools.  He stopped in his tracks when he looked up and saw you standing before Bruce.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Heisenberg growled, “how did you get out of my room?”

Panic, disbelief, and terror surged through your body.  You found yourself mourning for Bruce all over again and being gripped with fear over being caught...but even greater, fury had begun to make your blood boil.

“What is this?!?!” you cried out shrilly, “what are you doing to him???  Bruce...he was seated next to me on the plane!!!  OH DEAR GOD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HIM???”  You took several steps back, your fingers gripping your hair.  This was not happening....this was not happening...you were dreaming again…

“Y/N, let me explain…” Heisenberg said, fastly approaching you, putting his tools down on the table.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!!” you screamed, turning on your heels and running out of the room.  You ran into one of the bodies on the table, your body falling forward.  Your chin touched its cold skin and you let out another loud scream.

“Y/N, stop!” Heisenberg commanded.  You felt him behind you, his hands gripping your shoulders.  You yelped and whirled around, shoving his body away from you.  You ran for the exit just as one of the tables with a body flew out in front of you, blocking your path.

Adrenaline was pumping through you and you quickly ran around the table and out of the door.  You ran down the hallway, ignoring the hanging bodies, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Y/N!!” Heisenberg yelled as he ran after you.  You were in total flight mode and you couldn’t remember which way was up.  The little notes you had jotted in your memory were long gone and you had no idea how to get out of the factory.

As you turned a corner, you saw a large industrial lift.  You darted inside, gripping the sliding elevator door from above, and pulled it down shut.  Looking over at the buttons, you hit the UP arrow rapidly in pure panic.

Heisenberg ran full force at the door, his fingers wrapping around the wooden railings.  You screamed loudly, scrambling back against the other side of the lift, pressing your back against the wall.

“Y/N!!” Heisenberg shouted, “Y/N, STOP!!! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!!”

The elevator lift began to ascend, putting more and more space between you and Heisenberg.  You could hear him shaking the wooden railings, screaming your name over and over.  Looking upwards, you watched with growing impatience as the lift slowly made its way higher and higher until it stopped at the very top.

There was a metal door before you with thin railings.  You looked between them to see a small field surrounded by a barbed wire fence.  The metal door was shut tight.  You started to kick at the door and shove your shoulder against it, desperate for it to open.  After what felt like several moments, you shoved your body once again and the door flew open.  You spilled into the grass and looked around wildly.  Where could you go?  Where could you hide?

You looked to the left and saw a small section of fence that was rusted and pushed back, creating a space that would allow you to escape.  Running as fast as your legs could take you, you pushed at the wire and slithered your body through the hole.  Jagged edges snagged your skin and your clothes, but you were too fueled by panic to worry about scratches.

After clearing the fence, you jumped to your feet and ran towards the trees and the mountains, desperate to get as far away from Heisenberg as you could.

#resident evil village #resident evil village fanfic #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg fanfic #daddy heisenberg #succession fanfic #succession heisenberg fanfic

[kayxleeee]

Loki Laufeyson: Fatuous Love (Loki x Reader)

Warning: SMUT 18+ finger, oral.

A/N: I have PT2 and bait of pt 3, but idk if I’ll end up posting them.

Summary: Loki just wants to make you forget the fate that you can not escape. 

Word Count: 2k+

*NOT MY IMAGE* Do not copy my work

“Do not speak of this again! I do not want to hear another word about this foolishness, (Y/n)!” Your father yelled at you sternly dismissing the complicated conversation at hand. “You will not behave this way when we are guest in this palace. How dare you act like such a child under the same awing as your future king!?” 

You were the soon to be Queen of Asgard, set to marry the prince, Thor son of Odin, god of thunder and future king of Asgard. Any woman would be overly joyed to be in your shoes, but you personally could not stand the thought. It was an unchangeable fate that you could not bare, so for about the one-hundredth time you plead and  beg your father to let you out of the arrangement.

“But father, I do not love him!” You cry out in frustration.

“THEN YOU WILL LEARN! This is berserk and if you ask me you are ungrateful and are no better than his fatuous brother! I will not tolerate this one more second!”He narrows  his eyes and stares you down as if testing you to speak again. When you don’t, he storms out of your room slamming the door so hard you were sure the kingdom could hear its echo.

Unfortunately for you, you were in love with the wrong Allfather child. Loki was the one thing that you could not resist, your forbidden fruit if you will. He was not supposed to be yours, and you were not supposed to be his because it has been written in prophesy. Even when the three of you were children playing in the garden under the sun, you only had eyes for the mischievous one. It seemed that everyone in your family knew your fascination of the dark hair boy and it only grew fonder as you aged. Although the fascination was known, the extents of your relationship was oblivious to them all, even Thor. As adults, your relationship soon blossomed into more than just lust or want, but it became more of love and an urgent need to be around him. This feeling is why you fought so hard to get out of this arrangement with Odin Allfather, which ended with you marrying his first born son.

Loki was the most incredible being you had ever come to know. Arrogant? Yes. Mischievous? Absolutely. Selfish? Sometimes… But also in the same breath he was  loving, with the most beautiful soul. For some reason he has always had a soft spot for you, even when he hated everyone else. He has always put you first, even before the two of you were romantically involved and he would do anything in his power to try and please you.

You angrily finish getting ready for bed, slipping your hair into a silk wrap and letting your night gown loosely flow against your skin. You get into your nicely made bed turning off the lamp that sat on your bedside table. You lay in the darkness of the room, over your soft sheets, wishing there was a way to get out of this marriage. You then see your door push ajar slowly as the light from the hallway illuminates the bedroom. The shine of the light quickly goes away as the door closes, just as it was opened.

“Fatuous?” You hear his familiar voice fill the silence of the room as he walks in. Your heart swells at the sound of his voice and butterflies filled the pit of your stomach. This is how he made you feel on a daily basis, just by being in his ever lasting presence. “He believes I am Fatuous.” He scoffs. “I may be many things, but I am without a doubt, unquestionably not Fatuous.” He chuckles slightly as he makes his way onto your bed.

“Loki, my love!” You smile ear to ear reaching your hands out to him as he climbed beside you, engulfing you into a warm embrace, his soft sleeping garments brushing against your skin. “I have not seen you all day.”  You pout.

“That is because you have been busy all day, with my idiotic brother.” He reminds you. “Although I am fond of your father, I thought he would never leave.” He says referring to the argument he overheard. “And I am not fatuous.” 

“I know my love.” Is all you say as the two of you lay there quietly in each other’s embrace enjoying every moment of it. The warmth of each other and the rhythms of your breath was all you needed to feel close to him. “I love you…” You mumble breaking the silence. “And I’m sorry this is set in the prophecy” 

“You say this every time we meet.”

“Because I am— it makes this venture so much more miserable.”

He sighs loudly shaking his head, “Please, we can speak of it another time. Tonight we shall just enjoy each other.” He smiled as he places a kiss to your temple. 

You wished it could only be that easy. He did not understand that the time was winding down quickly and in a few short months you would be marrying Thor, and all of this would have to end, regardless of how either of you felt.

“But of course,” He speaks again as he switches his position slightly, “that won’t stop you from worrying will it?” He lets out a small chuckle to himself, already knowing your mind is going around in unusual circles.

“Of course you know me.” You let out a slight giggle as he runs his hands over your sides, the pads of his finger tips tickling you as he caressed. 

“Well, what if I said I have a remedy.” He coos smoothly, mischief in his voice.

His hands begin to travel down the side of your curves, outlining every inch that he could over your night gown. He slides it up slowly as he begins to caress your hips with one hand  and make his way down the shape of your thigh with the other. His fingers sneakily pads to the inner of your thigh,  sliding in between pressing them apart slightly and you shift your position so that you are  laying on your back instead of your side.

“Loki…” You say in a low voice.

“Yes?” He says inching away from you and positioning himself in between your legs. “Remember when we first met each others acquaintance? Meek children I suppose, enjoyed sweet treats and childs play. Now look at us, adults with weakness in each other. You are my weakness, my dear.”

You lay there with your legs spread apart, giving him access as he continues to trail his finger down your thighs and then back up. He grips each thigh in either hand as a smirk played against his lip. He takes his hand  raising up your night gown completely exposing the dark black color of your satin underwear. He rubs his hand over your covered core, causing your breath to hitch into your throat.

“Loki.” His name falls from your mouth again, this time in a desperate whisper as the feeling of need is building up in your core. “What are you doing?”

“Whatever you would like me to be doing your highness?” This came out in a low growl, sending chills over you. He continues his hand movements on your covered pussy.

“We shouldn’t.” You bite down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from letting out any type of moan.

“What would you like me to be doing (Y/n)?” He repeats himself now tugging at your underwear. “Live a little my pet, nothing will change our fait, we might as well enjoy our time together. Even if this is the last night I every intention to pretend that you are all mine. Oh my beauty, there’s no need for you to feel sorry for yourself, when I can help you forget.”  He smirks. 

“I want you to help me forget.” You follow his words.

“Then that shall be what I do.” He says confidently as he places kisses down your inner thigh, leading them to your core. His confidence and skill was what aroused you quickly as you felt his hot breath. His tongue delicately rolls over your clit, his skillful rolls making you wet almost immedietly.  He massages the inside of your thigh as he continues to lap his tongue over your pussy.

“You are so beautiful.” He marvels lifting your thighs over his shoulders for better access. “And all mine.”

 He skillfully connects his entire mouth to the fabric open mouth kissing and rolling his tongue all over your parts. You moan at the new sensation of him hiking up your undergarments causing friction against your clit as he soaks them with his mouth. 

Loki pulls away only to pull off your now soaking wet underwear “Look at you, so beautiful.” He admires you again helping you out of them and then going back down to get back to work, this time sloppier.

In no time you are a moaning mess. He laps his tongue around your clit down to your entrance, over and over again. Your moans get progressively louder as he continues the movements of his tongue causing a sloshing noise from the wetness.

“Ohhh.” Is all you could  manage out as you grip his dark hair and barrie his face deeper into your pussy. “Don’t stop.” You moan breathlessly, the noises from your wetness enough to make you cum.

He lets out a growl into your core, the vibrations sending you into over drive. As you run your fingers through his hair you arch your back bucking your hips, needing him to keep going. He removes his mouth pushing your hips down, grounding you down to the bed as he slipped a finger into your wet folds. You throw your head back has he adds another, moaning all types of profanity.

“Listen to me (Y/n), while you marry my brother, I want you to remember how I’m making you feel in this moment. All wet for me not him.” He says maliciously. “Who’s making you feel so good?” He asked this while gliding his thumb over your clit fast as he thrust his fingers into you hitting that sweet spot that makes your toes curl.

“I’m so close Loki! My love I’m so close…” You moan louder as you roll your hips, grinding on to his fingers as they fuck you.

Loki thrusts is fingers into you faster, meeting your grinds while hitting your g spot. You felt the familiar warm feeling spreads from the bundle of nerves that is your clit to the pit of your belly as you began to cum over his hands. 

-

After you come down from your high, he finds his way back up to you lying next to you as you shift  positions to lay on his chest.

“You're too good to me and I can’t live without you.” You say feeling the warmth of his body as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. “But we can’t keep doing this.”

“I think we can.” He chuckles to himself. “They all are incompetent, so I think we can manage our time.” He says rubbing small circles onto your back. “ They hardly even notice you’re involved with someone who isn’t their beloved prince. “ Loki sighs. 

“There is no way for me to get out of it.” You relax in his embrace and trace the lines of the sleeping garment he has on. “It will be a sad lonely life of being Thor Odisons wife.”

“Listen to me,” His voice is now more serious. “... you need not to worry about that because it most certainly won’t be a sad lonely life. You will have me (Y/n), and I will not be going anywhere.” He kisses your head. “I most certainly do not say this quite enough, but I love you .”

You sighed. You knew his words were kind, but there was no point in pretending this wasn’t pointless. The only thing that was fatuous, was loving someone and not having them completely. Love is the fatuous one.

“I love you too” You finally mumble before closing your eyes ready to drift off to sleep as he continues rubbing soothing circles around your back.

Comments, Questions, Opinions :)

See more of what I have written so far: Masterlist

#mcu fanfiction #loki layfeyson x reader #loki x y/n #mcu bwww #loki smut #black reader x avenger #loki x reader #thor odison x reader #Thor #Loki #marvel smut #loki laufeyson #Loki laufeyson smut #mcu smut #smut #loki headcanon #loki fluff #loki friggason #loki fanfic #loki imagine #tom hiddelston x reader #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston #tom smut #MCU loki

[lepusrufus]

To bargain for immortality pt.2

Finally, she felt well enough to leave the infirmary room for good. Her internal organs were at peace for the most part and she could keep some food down without the risk of seeing it for a second time. Her sinuses still seemed to refuse to recover though. Occasional nosebleeds would have her head spinning and the scent of blood so often present within the castle was somehow too offensive to her senses. Nicole couldn't help but wonder how exactly she got it this screwed up, but then again the first few days of the infection were a painful blur that she'd rather not remember.

For now she was content to sit in front of the fireplace with the rest of her family. They decided to have a movie night to break her out of the mopey state she had been in and, for the most part, it was quite the success. She wasn't paying much attention to the projector screen, some sappy scene from a movie chosen by Daniela playing at the moment. Instead, she was simply enjoying the close proximity to Cassandra that she so dearly missed in the last few weeks. Nicole was in the brunette's lap, with hands loosely around her waist and leaning against her shoulder. She was vaguely aware of Laura complaining about the poor life choices of one of the characters only to be unceremoniously shushed by the youngest sister. It made her chuckle.

Bela was passing the popcorn to her mothers when a knock on the main entrance reached their ears faintly. Lady Dimitrescu narrowed her eyes in the general direction of the sound, and listened. Soon enough the rapid steps of Alexandria, their Steward, reached them.

"My Ladies, Mother Miranda's assistant is here."

The whole family got up hesitantly and tried to look as presentable as possible, given their "lazy day outfits". For some like Bela that was a baggy shirt and shorts, while for the Lady it was one of her trademark white dresses. They made their way to the main entrance of the castle, where the assistant, a woman in her late thirties and the air of an annoyed teacher, was waiting. It was Alcina the one to ask why she was there.

"Mother Miranda wants to see um… Nicole was it? Yes, to take a look at the regenerative abilities."

"Why not do it here like last time?"

"Mother Miranda's laboratory is far better equipped for whatever she may want to test. Unless you have something to say against her wishes." She finished that with a raised eyebrow that would've gained her a talon through the skull were she not there as per Miranda's wishes.

Who's talons exactly was debatable.

"I'll come too," Cassandra spoke up from just behind Nicole.

That only got her a dismissive wave. "No, I was told specifically to only bring her. Come now, we don't want to make Mother Miranda wait."

With that, the woman turned around and started walking towards a carriage that would take them away. Nicole looked briefly at her family. They all had either confusion or mild concern in their eyes. All but Alcina who looked as if she'd like to protest and snap at the woman but was holding her tongue.

She reassured Cassandra that she'd be fine and started jogging after the assistant.

---

Needless to say, that was Nicole's first time stepping foot inside the underground network of tunnels. Not that she complained. Few people went there willingly and probably fewer left the same way they came in.

The ancient looking hallways were in such stark contrast with the occasional medical equipment and the pristine looking labs with doors left slightly ajar that Nicole had to wonder if the woman had no taste for a consistent aesthetic. At least Lady Dimitrescu kept all wiring and modern devices carefully hidden or blended in with the castle's decor. Here, the harsh neon lights illuminated worn out stone so dark it was almost black. Not to mention the smell of… old that seemed to ooze off the very walls she was walking by.

She was led inside a spacious lab, the bluish lights above being too bothersome for someone who got used to the warm or natural light in the castle. The room was rather long, numerous hospital beds lined up against a wall, some separated by white curtains and some left visible. An almost imperceptible whiff of an all too familiar foul odor reached her nose, but it was mild enough to be easily ignored. Nicole had a suspicion that the unmoving person laying in one of the cots further away could be the source, but she sighed and hoped not to join them by the end of the day.

Mother Miranda was sat at a desk, microscope in front of her together with a small stack of documents and a laptop. She was typing in what could probably be notes on whatever she was looking at, when icy grey eyes finally shifted to Nicole.

"Get changed and lay down," she ordered, not even moving from her spot.

The assistant that had brought her here, pushed a hospital gown that had been pulled out from a cupboard in her arms. At least she was allowed the decency of changing into a bathroom as opposed to stripping then and there in the middle of the room. The gown was surprisingly comfortable, fabric folding around her body and being held closed by a loose ribbon that she tried at the side.

Once she was back in the lab, she was ushered to one of the beds where she laid down, nervously waiting for whatever Miranda had in mind.

It was quite odd to see her without her usual attire, especially without the gold talons that Nicole was now far more familiar with than she'd ever hoped. The white lab coat looked far too normal on her and, were it not for the unmistakable cold eyes and regal posture, the woman would’ve been unrecognizable.

She finally got up, a few documents in hand, and approached her. The papers were handed over to the assistant, along with a few other objects and finally, Nicole had her full attention.

Mother Miranda bent down, scalpel in hand, and grabbed one of Nicole's wrists. Just like she did back during the first examination, the blade was dragged across the length of her forearm. Despite fully expecting it, Nicole couldn't help flinching at the pain, but she kept her eyes fixated on her arm, at the blood slowly starting to flow from the wound.

Soon the same tingling as before took over the pain and before their eyes, the skin started to stitch itself back together.

"Time," Miranda asked while wiping the blood to allow for a closer inspection of the now good as new skin.

"Five seconds."

"Alcina's?"

"Three seconds."

Miranda hummed, seemingly pleased with the results. Or at least as pleased as the woman was physically capable of being.

"Hook her up to the cardiac monitor," she further instructed while moving to retrieve something from another cabinet.

The assistant, Emma, if the tag pinned to her lab coat was to be believed, stuck a series of electrodes to her chest and abdomen. Nicole bit her lip to stifle a yelp when one came uncomfortably close to the still sensitive skin of the scar.

In no time, the machine came to life, familiar beeping sounding through the otherwise silent room.

"I hope you're not afraid of needles," Miranda said while grabbing the same arm she had before, lips pulled into a faint smirk.

Nicole only shook her head as she saw the needle of a syringe attached to a transparent slim tube slide into her arm. How ironic would that be. The sting was close to imperceptible, taken over by the now familiar faint tingle. Unlike with the cut, it didn't fade away, most likely due to not being able to fully heal the small wound with the needle embedded in the skin and vein.

She looked away, in the direction of the other occupied bed in the room. It was far away enough that she couldn't make out any detail, only messy brown hair sprawled on a pillow. The face was turned towards the wall and body covered up to the neck. She grimaced and decided instead to focus on the beeping machine, mildly annoyed by Miranda's lack of properly separating her dead lab rats from the living ones. At least she hoped she'd stay living.

The numbers on the machine started out normal. With the slight uncomfortable feeling of blood being drained however, her heart rate started to slowly increase.

Alright. Normal enough. Especially when someone is clearly in a fucking blood draining mood.

Nicole decided not to look at exactly how much blood Miranda was drawing, keeping her eyes glued to the various color coded numbers. The heart rate kept increasing until Nicole could swear she could feel her heartbeat ringing in her ears. She gulped. Still relatively within the norm.

Two things were at odds however. First, the blood pressure remained constant, almost as if her body simply refused to acknowledge the fact that it was currently being drained. Secondly, the temperature rose from the normal 36 degrees to a staggering 41 in less time than it should have.

"What the fuck…" She couldn't keep her tongue at the weirdness of her situation, her brain thankfully choosing confusion and curiosity over the dread that it probably should've felt instead.

Mother Miranda didn't seem to care though as she turned to type something on the laptop that she brought over from the desk. She tapped her finger on the device for a few seconds and finally spoke up.

"The accelerated healing means the blood is being regenerated constantly, thus not decreasing in volume. Which explains the constant pressure." She narrowed her eyes at the monitor once again. "It doesn't, however, explain the heart rate and temperature. Any bright guesses?"

It took Nicole a second to realize the question was actually addressed to her. Miranda seemed in an oddly good mood. Not any less hell bent on causing her pain, mind you, but she also seemed genuinely curious. Being a biology nerd will do that to you, she couldn't help but think.

Nicole hummed and thought for a second. She tried to recall any information about the topic at hand that she had studied prior to running away.

"Heart rate could just be the normal body response that stayed even with the mutation. Like… like a reflex. It remains even though it's not needed." Then she tapped a finger on her chin trying to find a less random explanation. "Or maybe it's the body's way of making sure that even while healing all body parts remain at least decently functional. No idea about the temperature though," she shrugged.

Miranda once again typed something up and then, without warning, pulled the needle out of Nicole's arm. She flinched, barely holding in an angry protest as she turned towards the woman. Which was a mistake. She couldn't help the gag that raised in the back of her throat at the sight of the metal container full of blood.

No, no, blood did not bother her. That would've cut her career as a medical examiner short before she even stepped foot in med school. It was the knowledge that that was her blood that made her stomach churn. The container could easily fit three liters of liquid in it, and it was full to the brim. Not to mention the smell that assaulted her still messed up sinuses mixing oh so perfectly with mr. corpse over in the corner.

Miranda just chuckled at her sour expression. "Do you think your darling wife would like to have this?"

With a sneer, masked by Nicole turning once again towards the monitor, she couldn't help slipping an edge of snark in her reply. "No need, she likes it fresh."

The numbers were back to normal, all but for the temperature that was taking slightly longer to go down.

---

By this point her vocal cords were raw from screaming and each shuddering sob felt like clumps of spines in her throat. Nicole was curled in on herself, small frame trembling pathetically on top of the uncomfortable bed. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably, the tingling sensation feeling like needles constantly pricking at her skin around and under the wired leather cuffs wrapped around her wrists. The frantic beeping of the machine was grating to her ears.

An electric shock test.

Of course.

Mother Miranda decided to test out how the increased heart rate worked. Results? Her body vehemently refused to allow her to pass out. Even when the shocks traveled through every part of her body, causing the nervous system to short circuit. Even when damage to internal organs and muscles ripped painful sobs from her throat, that turned into gags as soon as the tingling turned to nausea. Even when she could feel her heart hammering against her ribcage so fast that she was sure the small organ would burst any second. But it didn’t.

Every muscle in her body flared up in a sensation of painful pins and needles when Miranda pushed the button to release another shock. The cardiac monitor started screaming again and Nicole brought shaky hands over her ears in an attempt to block out the sound. Her whole body was on fire while all the damaged tissue repaired itself, making her stomach turn painfully. She felt like throwing up. Not that she had eaten anything today, but bile and thick blood still coated her esophagus. It was all swallowed back with a disgusting gulp.

The nausea was oh so kindly accompanied by searing pain from her still damaged sinuses, who’s condition only worsened exponentially with the electricity. The blood that seemed to coat all the way up to the inside of her mouth felt horrible mixed with the putrid smell of death.

She swallowed again, but that proved itself a bad decision as now that same smell permeated the very inside of her nose and mouth and throat and the feeling of blood sloshing on her tongue behind clenched teeth made her head spin.

She lurched forward, a small river of dark blood flowing from her mouth and nose, into her palms that she instinctively brought to her mouth. Wet coughs made it splatter into crimson splotches on the white sheets, herself and anything else within proximity. It took surprisingly long to realize that, after the initial wave that rose up her esophagus, the rest of the blood was from her sinuses. It was cruelly invading her nose and sliding back into her throat only to come out of her mouth. Fuck fuck fuck-

“What’s wrong?” Miranda’s tone lacked any trace of sympathy.

Nicole simply coughed out the remaining fluid from her mouth and unceremoniously grabbed a piece of cloth from Emma’s hands. She pressed it to her nose, only to feel it soaked against her skin far too soon.

“Damaged sinuses, as you said,” she croaked, her voice sounding so unlike her own.

That made Miranda frown. She kept that same expression while noting down the previous results. “It should be healed by now.”

“Well they aren't,” Nicole spat. The blood and the horrid smell were clouding her mind and, as many knew, pain and holding her tongue did not mix well in her. “And did we really have to do this in the same room as a dead fucking body?!”

Nicole’s angry outburst gave the woman pause. Annoyance mixed with a hint of confusion on her face. She looked at her assistant, an eyebrow raised in a silent question.

“No. Just- just anestesia.” Emma answered promptly.

“What the fuck do you mean anesthesia? Anesthesia doesn’t make you smell like a goddamn decomposing corpse, do you have cotton stuck up your noses?!” Thankfully the bleeding was starting to subside, which meant there was nothing to stifle her steadily raising angry tone.

Miranda, now sporting a scowl, got up and grabbed Nicole’s chin between two fingers. It made her flinch back, but there was no escaping the iron grip.

“I can assure you that the man is not dead, simply under anesthesia and recovering from a bad infection.” She moved Nicole’s head from left to right, eyes scrutinizing as ever.

Afterwards, she turned back and wrote something down on a piece of paper and simply instructed Emma to wrap up and lead Nicole out. The sudden shift not only in demeanor, but also in her position from the bed to standing upright was mildly dizzying. She swapped the gown for her normal clothes as quickly as she physically could, not wanting to spend another unnecessary second in this underground grave.

While she was ushered out the door, Mother Miranda’s sickly sweet voice rang after her.

“I’ll see you in a couple days.”

Her stomach turned.

---

The trek home was short and silent, Nicole simply wanting to get home as soon as possible and get a damn hot shower and sleep.

She bid the young man that was accompanying her goodbye the moment the Castle’s entrance was within jogging distance, and hurried steps took her to the imposing doors. It was Alexandria to answer her knock, Nicole having left her own keys in her bedroom.

“Welcome back my la-” the polite smile was all but wiped off the woman’s face, replaced by wide eyes. “Are you injured?”

Nicole looked at her confused, then down at herself. A muttered curse escaped past her lips when she remembered the bloody mess on her skin. “I’m okay. Just-... just don’t tell anyone I’m here yet. I'll change first.”

Her plan went out the window when a set of hasty steps came booming toward them.

“Nico-”

Cassandra’s voice died in her throat when her golden eyes landed on Nicole’s small frame, dried dark blood on her face and arms and her clothes stained. An angry growl slipped from between bared teeth.

“What the fuck did she do to you?”

Nicole was quick to answer, too tired to deal with anything other than a few hours of sleep. “I’m okay. I’m just-...” she shook her head, then turned to the Steward. “Alexandria kindly ask a maid to draw me a bath.”

“At once.” And with that the woman turned and scurried away, most likely also not wanting to be in the vicinity of an angry Cassandra.

---

The hot water felt like pure bliss on her skin. It seemed to make every muscle relax and get rid of the awful tension. She leaned back, eyes closed and hands idly moving through the water.

It was just mildly difficult to fully relax with Cassandra muttering and pacing back and forth in the same room though.

"I'm-... I'm not letting you do this again."

Nicole simply sighed and started to scrub away at dried blood. The miniature red waterfall from earlier had gotten blood all over her arms and chest, some splatters even getting on her legs. Her face was also a mess, trails of blood going from her nose and mouth to the chin with smudges and splatters.

"What did she even do to you?"

Before she had a chance to reply, a knock came from the door and a maid entered with a few clean towels and a change of clothes from Nicole's own bedroom. The girl didn't linger, simply giving them both a courteous bow and exiting the room.

Looking for something to change the subject, Nicole focused on the pleasant honey smell. Honey with a slight citrus-y undertone, maybe lemon or orange.

"Did you get a new soap?"

Cassandra stopped pacing, brows furrowed. "No? It's the same one."

Confused, Nicole brought a hand that had just been scrubbed with that very soap right under her nose and took a deep inhale. It was indeed the same one. Chamomile and mint. She sighed in annoyance and leaned back against the cool porcelain while Cassandra came and bent down on one knee to be somewhat on eye level.

"Nose still not working properly or…?" She said while gingerly tilting Nicole's chin up with two fingers. She grimaced at one yet to be washed trail of dried blood that made its way to her wife's thin upper lip.

Nicole simply shook her head and grabbed Cassandra's hand. "Can you… go get ready. I'm beyond tired and just want to lay down with you."

Cassandra pursed her lips but nodded none the less. With a kiss on top of red hair, she turned and left the spacious bathroom, door shutting with a heavy thud.

Left alone, she scrubbed every inch of skin again and took a few extra minutes to enjoy the warmth of the water. It felt so incredibly odd to not feel any actual pain after the day's events. Any trace of what her body went through had been erased by her newfound ability, not leaving behind even the faintest mark of a scar, nor blackened skin caused by electric shocks.

She pushed herself out of the tub, grimacing at the slight pink tone the water had taken. Body and hair quickly dried with the towels, she put on the clothes, a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top, and finally stepped out of the bathroom too.

Cassandra was waiting for her in bed, velvety dark robes hanging loosely on her shoulders and eyes fixated on the window while her fingers were tapping furiously on the cover of a book forgotten in her lap. Book that was quickly placed on the nightstand when Nicole climbed in beside her and pushed her way into the brunette's arms. She was tired and absolutely not above demanding cuddles.

Her wife wasted no time in wrapping an arm around her and pulling the soft blanket up to cover them both. Nicole interlocked their fingers, absentmentally turning the ring on Cassandra's finger. The same ring she had, albeit in a smaller size. A golden band with intricate floral patterns engraved on it. It had no protruding gem, something they both opted for so that the rings wouldn't need to be taken off while working and wearing gloves. Instead, eight small ocre gems were lined among the minuscule curled leaves.

It took Cassandra about two minutes to take a deep inhale and open her mouth. New record.

"Are you… are you hurt?"

Nicole didn't look up at her, the concern dripping from her words alone were enough to squeeze her heart painfully.

"No. I'm all healed up, just tired." She could almost feel Cassandra's question of clarification, but not wanting to go over what had happened down in the laboratory so soon, she opted for something the brunette would hopefully be just as interested in. "We did get some odd results though."

At the lack of any interruption she went on. "Accelerated heart rate whenever I get hurt. Can't pass out." Which was both a blessing and a curse, depending on the point of view and situation. "Also for some reason my temperature gets really high."

"You get one hell of a fever?"

"Yeah."

Cassandra tapped a finger on Nicole's hand, mentally going over possibilities. "Aren't fevers used against infections? Maybe that has something to do with it."

A small hum passed her lips. Could that have something to do with it? It was possible that her healing abilities caused a fever in order to fight off any possible infection before it even became one. Maybe it was her body's way of lessening damage as much as possible since, as the day's events showed, the old replaced tissue had a tendency to get purged. She grimaced at the memory of slowly choking on blood and went for something at least slightly more pleasant.

"Oh and… I can't bleed out. Blood volume stays constant."

She looked up at Cassandra with what could only be described as a shit eating grin. Her wife blinked, realization seeming to dawn on her together with the faintest hint of a blush on her cheeks. She coughed.

"Yeah well. I'll keep that in mind. For when you don't need to sleep."

"And deny me some fun now?" Nicole's pout was purely for dramatic effect and it gained her an eye roll.

Two slender fingers gripped her chin to keep it in place while narrowed golden eyes bored into her green ones. The pout slowly morphed into a smirk. Cassandra was not the kind of person who did not indulge in her own pleasures and that, although to a more careful extent, included drinking her lover's blood. A fact that Nicole was not only not complaining about, but also learned to use in order to push all the right buttons.

When Nicole turned her head in the uncharacteristically gentle grip to plant a small kiss on the soft palm, Cassandra finally gave in. Concern was momentarily put on hold in the name of the normalcy they both have been denied in the last few weeks. She bent down, their lips meeting into a kiss that soon turned needy with tongue slipping past sharp teeth and a hand scratching lightly at her nape. Soon Cassandra broke their kiss, but only to slowly trail her way across her jawline with kisses and small nips. She bit at the soft skin right under the jaw bone, eliciting a quiet groan right by her sensitive ear. Black painted lips took her down the neck and across collarbones, planting a kiss right in between them, at the base of Nicole's throat.

When she slowly made her way to an exposed shoulder, Nicole's hand at the back of her head guided her further up, right above where her pulse was. After an inquisitive hum against her skin, she spoke quietly.

"Since blood loss isn't exactly a problem… no need to avoid the neck really."

Cassandra hesitated for a moment, but ultimately decided to trust her wife. She placed a gentle kiss on the spot right above where blood was flowing in rhythm with her heartbeat. The same gentle kiss that was placed on the skin countless times before and that only Nicole had the privilege of experiencing.

Sharp fangs sunk into tender flesh, the warm blood invading Cassandra's mouth making her moan low in her throat. Being used to the feeling of the bite by now, Nicole simply closed her eyes with a sigh and let her body melt into Cassandra's arms. The familiar blissful ache was welcomed, even though, she noticed, it did not bring with it the lightheadedness she had grown accustomed to.

Although she wasn't aware of it, Cassandra was, in a way, a creature of habit. Every time she would drink her blood, her hand would come up to cup Nicole's cheek, thumb slowly tracing the jawline, right before she would pull her mouth away. Every time, without fail.

This time however, when that happened, Nicole kept her in place with the hand tangled in brunette hair, her voice coming out breathy when she spoke. "Go on."

Cassandra would never admit it, but her self control would always waver while feeding. Therefore, she didn't need much convincing, continuing to take mouthfuls of blood in between a satisfied groan. When she finally had her fill, she pulled back with a bashful look in her eyes. Concern quickly flashed on her face at the sight of the crimson mess on her wife's neck.

Nicole however, not wanting their moment to get ruined, took one of Cassandra's hands in her own and slowly placed a soft kiss on each knuckle. After that was done, and the downright ticklish sensation of skin patching itself subsided, she guided the fingers over the bloody skin.

"See? Healed," she whispered.

Cassandra gingerly traced her fingers over the spot, looking for no longer existing puncture marks. She smiled upon not finding them and turned to pull out a handkerchief from a small drawer of her nightstand. A ritual of sorts, one practiced more times than they cared to count over the years. Cassandra passed the white cloth over the skin, wiping away the crimson stains while her wife relaxed into the touch.

"Feeling good?" It was a remark meant to poke fun at how much Nicole seemed to enjoy herself, but the double meaning did not go unnoticed.

A smile tugged at Nicole's lips and she nodded.

In turn, Cassandra hummed. "You taste different." And, at her lover's furrowed brows and the slightest hint of alarm flashing in her eyes, she clarified. "Not bad. Just different. Slightly sweeter actually."

"Is that so," Nicole purred, the smile returning to her lips.

Cassandra discarded the cloth on the floor to be retrieved later and shifted both of them back down on the myriad of pillows.

"Yes. Now how about you get some sleep."

Nicole wasted no time in snaking an arm around her waist and nuzzling into her side. It would never cease to amaze her how Cassandra's presence could make her feel so at ease, as if nothing beyond the castle's walls existed. At that moment, she couldn't help but be grateful for her newfound ability, useful in far more ways than one.

She stretched slightly upwards, auburn hair like a small waterfall behind her.

"I love you," she whispered against cool ashy lips.

"I love you too," Cassandra replied, closing the almost nonexistent space between their mouths in a soft kiss.

It left behind a slight coppery taste on Nicole's lips, but she couldn't bring herself to care, instead readjusting her legs to tangle comfortably around her wife's thigh.

#unhinged maiden™ my beloved #cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #fanfic #lady dimitrescu #mother miranda #tw torture #to bargain for immortality

[starlost-andfound]

what a shame // c.m.b

summary: y/n confronts corbyn about his whereabouts

warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, one swear word (is this my first time writing a swear word *gasps*)- also corbyn’s a jerk

note: i do not condone behaviours and actions described in this story such as cheating. this is purely and only for fictional purposes.

word count: 1K

a/n: I wrote this in the middle of period cramps - bear with me + also sorry if i mentioned your name in here- just replace it with someone u hate lmao

songs which inspired this fic : what a shame by leyla blue 

additions to the playlist : lie to me 5sos (credits to @hopinglimelight​ <3)

Corbyn turned off the engine to his car, the rumble of the BMW fading into silence as he took a deep breath. His eyes fell to the clock on the dashboard, 01:38 AM. With a sigh, he stepped out of the car and locked it. He trudged up the steps to his house, a queasy feeling blooming in his guts as he twisted the knob and walked into the dark hallway.

He shuffled quietly to the living room, barely lit by the slithers of moonlight peeking through the windows and the backyard door. Corbyn placed his keys gently on the dining table when a light in the living room suddenly turned on. The young man winced, turning around to the room where the light source was.

“Well, well, well,” she spoke, “Look who decided to come home.”

Corbyn gulped, making his way to the living room. Y/n sat on an arm chair across from him, at the other end of the room, beside a lit lamp.

“Hey baby,” he smiled softly, “I thought you already went to sleep.”

Y/n scoffed, leaning back in the chair, “Don’t baby me, it’s nearly 2 AM, Corbyn.”

Corbyn ruffled his hair, “Look I’m sorry, okay? The boys and I were up late in the studio.”

“You and the boys were at the studio?”, y/n got up, crossing her arms. “That’s not what Jack told me.”

“Y/n, I can explain myse-”

“Don’t lie to me, Corbyn,”, y/n walked up to him. “Where were you?”

Corbyn tried to reason, reaching his hands out to hold hers, “I swear I’ll come home earlier, baby, I’ll do bette-”

“Answer the question.”, y/n cut him off, pulling her hands out of his. “Where were you?”

Corbyn stepped back, turning away.

“What’s the matter? Don’t have anything to say anymore?”

“Don’t do this, y/n,” Corbyn whispered.

“What’s her name, again? Was it Michaela? Nora? Arya?”

Corbyn winced, remaining silent.

Y/n chuckled mockingly, “Oh? It’s someone else, is it?”

Y/n pulled out her phone from her pocket, opening her photos where she had screenshotted it all, reading the headlines.

“Why Don’t We member, Corbyn Besson spotted at Boa getting comfortable with a girl.”

“Music star, Corbyn Besson, seen kissing a girl.”

“Corbyn Besson seen on a date. Who is this mysterious girl? Where’s y/n?”

She shoved her phone into Corbyn’s hand who glanced down at the articles and images of him and someone else.

“I can explain,” Corbyn said calmly, “That wasn’t a date, I swear.”

Y/n laughed, “So, you just go around shoving your lips onto you friend’s?”

She snatched her phone back, “That’s your best excuse yet.”

“It was just this once, I promise. I’ll change, I’ll be a better man,” Corbyn apologised, tears welling in his eyes.

“That’s what you say,” y/n whispered, her lips trembling, “Every. Single. Time.”

Corbyn’s breath shuddered as a tear fell down his cheek, “Please”

“What a shame,” y/n scoffed. “Is that what you think of me?”

Corbyn looked down.

“Look at me,” y/n demanded. Corbyn looked up at her, his eyes holding remorse. “Have you seen me?! Do you even notice?”, y/n asked.

“I’m tired of being treated like some object.” y/n threw her hands in the air. “And I hate that every single time you fuck up, you know I’ll still run back to your arms. But I’m done.”

Y/n shook her head, tears building in her eyes, “Just look at yourself! You’re a mess, Corbyn Besson. I gave you a million chances and you threw them all away. I can’t believe I even stayed.”

Y/n marched past him, running up the stairs, leaving Corbyn alone in the living room. He leaned forward against the edge of the couch, his hands gripping the fabric as he let out a string of curse words.  

After a few moments, the sound of footsteps echoed on the staircase and Corbyn looked up. Y/n came down with tear stains on her face, a suitcase in her hands and a bag on her shoulders.

She stood at the bottom of the staircase, across from Corbyn.

He sniffled, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you are,” she pulled up the handle of the luggage, dragging it with her to the door.

“I-it’s late,” Corbyn gulped, “Stay for the night; you can leave in the morning. I’ll- I’ll s-slleep on the couch.”

“I’d rather be anywhere else than here with you,” she muttered, holding back her stream of tears. Y/n picked up her car keys, heading out the door. “Goodbye, Corbyn.”

Corbyn winced at the sound of the door slamming. He listened to the sound of the engine starting and the rumble of the car as it pulled out of the driveway. He furiously wiped away his tears, trying to keep his composure.

Corbyn turned off the lamp in the living room and walked up the stairs. His hand pressed onto the ajar door of the bedroom, pushing it open. The drawers and cupboards were left open, half empty. His eyes fell to his bed, where his side remained untouched, and hers had the remains of her imprint on the cloth of the bedsheet. A picture frame stood on her bedside table. Drawn to the image, he shuffled over to it, picking up the wooden piece which held a picture of him and y/n.

Corbyn’s fingers traced the outline of her face, admiring the picture which captured her smile next to his. The familiar feeling of guilt bubbled in his guts, overcoming him as he recalled the time of the picture. He had been seeing someone else, but y/n never knew. That was a year ago.

He sobbed, falling to his knees, as he clutched the picture to his chest. His cries echoed in the half empty room, stretching to the quiet house. A house which held nothing but the ruins of empty promises, and half-honest “I love you”’s.

#corbyn besson #corbyn besson imagine #corbyn besson imagines #corbyn besson x reader

[maybedefinitely404]

For You Became My Lighthouse (Part 2)

Genre: hurt/comfort

Pairing: romantic Prinxiety

Content: argument, crying, a decent dose of awkward but it gets resolved!

Word count: 4.1k

Comment: This is the fourth time I’ve tried to post this--- Part 1 HERE!

Roman, is everything alright?

-Logan

Roman ran a hand through his hair at the message, checking the time at the top of the screen. It was late, far too late, so it was safe to assume that Logan had heard about the spat from Virgil. He should have been home by now. It was just… impossible to convince himself to actually leave the rehearsal studio. He had a younger acting class tomorrow and was perfecting his lesson plan- even though he already knew it was perfect, and his director had already approved it. Just, anything to keep him from going home.

He’d been a dick. Such was obvious; from the second his finger had hit send, he regretted approximately everything in his life that had led to this moment. That day had been particularly bad, overrun with rehearsals he was either taking part in or directing, and gearing up for tech week of a large production. Who knew trying to block a scene with a flurry of pre-teens could take so much out of you? Rinse and repeat the cycle with two more classes to teach back to back and an achingly long dance rehearsal, add in a desperate and fruitless search for a replacement lead in his upcoming directorial debut, and you’d have what Roman would categorize as a “shit show of a day”. 

All he wanted to do at the end of it was spend some time with his boyfriend, without having to talk about his day, so he’d suggested the most basic date his fried brain could conjur. Then his work desk was unceremoniously reacquainted with his forehead as he smacked it into the wood, letting out a groan that bordered on a yell. Luckily, minutes ago everyone had abandoned the theatre, and he’d been trusted with the keys to lock up from a stagehand. He just had a couple more things to do, and then he could drive home. 

Getting a reply of denial from Virgil was nothing new. In fact, he’d been warned in the transition from reluctant acquaintanceship to inevitable friendship, that he tended to veto ideas if they were sudden, or too daunting, or if he was just feeling shitty. It was something that Roman never considered a deal breaker, and he’d slowly come to much rather enjoy a night of cuddling and watching television than going out anyways. Call it ‘getting old’, call it ‘Virgil’s homebody ways creeping into his psyche’. So usually, getting his plans rejected was no big deal. 

Except for today, when he was well and past his limit of frustration, and things not going to plan. He’d typed out and sent the snarky reply far before he’d thought it out whatsoever, and ranted out complaints that hadn’t ever crossed his mind before, which he immediately regretted. In a moment of shame so great it caused physical nausea, he tossed his phone into one of his desk drawers and slammed it shut. 

It buzzed once, twice, and then went silent. 

Until, of course, it began to go berserk an indecipherable amount of time later, and Roman couldn’t ignore it. Seeing Logan’s text, along with about a million missed calls from him and Patton, broke the fragile sense of calm he’d tried to achieve while working. 

He didn’t want to go home and face his consequences. Childish, yes. Well deserved, also yes, but he was afraid of Virgil’s inevitable anger. If this led to a breakup, a fight that wasn’t recoverable, he’d never forgive himself. 

And now…

Roman, is everything alright?

-Logan

I can see you’ve read my text message.

-Logan

I’m at work. 

You’re inconceivably moronic. Get home. Now.

-Logan

Roman sighed heavily through his nose, clenching his jaw. He began typing out another snarky response- because apparently he never learned- when another text came through.

Virgil was in significant distress last I spoke to him and he has stopped answering me and Patton. Go. Home.

-Logan

Please. If not for my sake, then for Virgil’s.

-Logan

Fuck.

Roman barely had the sense to lock the doors of the building in his rush, throwing the spare key back in through the mail slot and booking it to his car. He sent some sort of confirmation that he was going and tossed the phone to his back seat. Virgil hated when he used it while driving.

It was only on the drive back, on unusually empty roads, did he realize it was well past nine. He hadn’t even noticed the time passing by.

Most of the lights in the apartment complex were still on when he pulled into the car park, but their window visible on this side showed only darkness. He wasn’t used to entering a dark apartment.

Their flat was silent, the living room only illuminated by the oven clock and the dim city lights from the balcony. He toed off his shoes as silently as he could, wincing when he kicked their shoe rack, and decided he’d risk turning on the light. When he finally found the switch and flicked it on, he couldn’t help his gasp. 

The room had once been a pristine display, he could tell. A white table cloth adorned their usually bare dining room table and a half burned candle stood as its centrepiece. He approached it in a daze, cautiously resting a hand on the plate of ravioli nearest to him. Cold. Long cold; the pasta was starting to get crusty. 

He picked up the two plates, intent on throwing out the food. It definitely wasn’t safe to eat anymore, and he didn’t feel like warding off an attack of ants in the morning. One of the towels hanging off the oven handle was drenched in what looked like marinara sauce, and it looked like there was some more spilled in the crack between the stove and the counter. That would be fun to clean. 

Both hands full, he opened the cupboard containing the garbage bin with a socked foot, and promptly froze. 

Part of him cringed at the clang the dropped plates made on the counter, but the louder part of him was just repeating a mantra of ‘holy shit, holy shit, holy shit’ and it was considerably out-screaming the other. Hands now shaking, Roman picked up the small box from the sink edge, ignoring the dried, crunchy texture of more tomato sauce on the outside, and opened it. 

It took every ounce of strength for Roman not to collapse to his knees, guilt instantly crushing the air from his lungs, a thousand times heavier than it had been before. An elaborate dinner, a ring… there had been a plan. That’s why Virgil had rejected his offer to go out. 

And he’d been such a dick to him. 

Speaking of which, where was he?

Roman closed the box and set it back where it had been. Their bedroom door was slightly ajar, and the most obvious place Virgil would be, so he padded over and creaked it open just a bit more. The light from the hallway cast a beam onto the bed, illuminating first a mess of hastily thrown clothes; his button up shirt he only used for fancy occasions on top of the pile. 

Virgil’s huddled form was easy to make out, curled away from the door, his only movement being the steady rise and fall of the blanket as he breathed. Figaro lifted his head from where he was settled in the crook of Virgil’s knees and gave Roman an indifferent mrow. 

He couldn’t get into bed with him. There was no scenario where that was the right move. It wasn’t the right time to talk about what had happened, not so late and when they were both riding high on emotions and tiredness, so accidentally waking Virgil was not the way to go. And even if he was sneaky enough to not wake him… a part of him just felt it was wrong. Not when he didn’t know Virgil’s stance on him at the moment.

Or his stance on the relationship.

Well, couch it was. He acknowledged the crumpled weighted blanket and sound blocking headphones- clear aftermath of a bad panic attack- with a quiet curse. Somehow that pit in his stomach got even bigger, making him nauseous as his shame took a physical form. 

He could only pray that they would come back from this. 

Roman’s sleep was fitful, to say the least. At best, he drifted into a state of half-consciousness, where his thoughts could be somewhat quieted down, but the discomfort of the couch and the heavy weight in his heart were still palpable. Inevitably, one of their neighbors would make a noise or the building would make a settling creak or a distant dog would bark, and the state would be broken, leaving Roman wide awake and wracked with guilt once more. He’d never noticed how loud the world was until he wanted nothing more than for the noise to stop. 

The sun was just peaking into the window when their bedroom door widened and Roman flew up, using the back of the couch to steady his sudden sitting position. When their eyes met from across the room, Virgil in his pajamas and face hidden in shadow, a tenseness settled over the room that neither had experienced in their relationship thus far. Virgil froze in the doorway, wavering slightly. It didn’t appear he wanted to be the one to break the silence. 

Roman stood slowly, as though not to spook him.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” Virgil whispered with a sniff, and even in that one word Roman could hear the scratchiness of his voice. “I just...uhm,” He cleared his throat, “I just wanted to get some water. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was already awake. No… no worries.” 

Virgil looked down to his feet. “When did you come back?”

“I think just before ten.”

“‘Kay.”

For an all too long moment, both of them seemed to find interest in every part of the room that wasn’t the other’s eyes. It wasn’t until Roman looked towards the kitchen in his awkwardness did he process what Virgil had come out for. 

“I’ll, um…” He pointed weakly to the kitchen and finally convinced his feet to move, filling up a glass from the sink while making a conscious effort to not look at the dishes or wasted food from the evening before. Unfortunately, he couldn’t stop the way his gaze drifted towards the box sitting next to the tap, and judging by Virgil’s sharp inhale, the look hadn’t been subtle. 

He took the glass back to the other, watching him take it with an uncomfortable, “Thanks.”

Virgil downed the glass in one go, his shaking hands almost causing him to spill. He barely had time to take a breath before Roman had zipped the empty glass back onto the counter.

“Do you want more?” He asked, already refilling the glass.

“No, I’m… it’s okay.” 

Roman placed the full glass on the counter quietly and the two were swallowed by heavy silence once again. The clock ticked impossibly loud as they stood, fidgeting, wanting this moment to be over but not wanting to be the one to start it. 

Virgil took a shuddering breath and wrung his hands together.

Roman stared resolutely at a single water drop making its way down the glass.

This was his fault. He’d started it. It seemed only right that he break the tension that almost suffocated him, so even as his mind screamed for him to shut up and every muscle in his body turned to liquid, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Virgil, I-”

“I’m sorry.”

That effectively stopped Roman in his tracks. All night, he’d crafted a collection of apologies, from eloquent monologues to stumbling pleas for forgiveness, but in not one of his countless scenarios had Virgil apologized. 

“I know… I know I can be a lot to handle, I know, I swear. And I was more outgoing when we first met, because I thought I had something to prove and it always exhausted me and I hated it but then we became… I don’t know, official? And closer and… and more comfortable and I didn’t think I had to do that anymore, I didn’t have to keep pushing myself so far!”

“V, stop-”

“The panic attacks and the anxiety and all that shit are a lot for other people and I know that but I didn’t know it was too much for you, I didn’t know you were tired of that and I can be better, I swear, I swear I can go back to how I was in the beginning, just please don’t leave.”

Virgil let out a choked sob and Roman couldn’t stop himself from rushing forward, intent on holding his stupid, stupid boyfriend until he realized this was in no way his fault, only for Virgil to back up before he could do so.

“I’m- I’m not trying to guilt you, I’m sorry, I just, I love you, and I can be better, I can, just give me a chance, please-”

“Virgil, baby, come here.”

This time when he reached forward, Virgil allowed himself to be pulled into his boyfriend’s chest, basically collapsing against him as soon as Roman’s arms tightened around him. The dam broke moments later and Virgil finally let go of his own hands to grab the back of Roman’s shirt with a sense of urgency.

“Please don’t leave, I’m so sorry,” he begged raspily into Roman’s shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” 

Roman hung onto him almost as tightly in return, rocking them back and forth, finally allowing himself to cry. He shoved his face into Virgil’s hair, peppering small kisses and apologies to the crown of his head in between sobs. 

Virgil whined when Roman finally pulled away, but he didn’t go far, cradling his boyfriend’s face in his hands and wiping his tacky cheeks with his thumbs.

“Virgil, I cannot apologize enough for yesterday.”

“What are-” he hiccuped, “What are you talking about? It was my fault.”

“No, no, no no no no no,” Roman whispered, fighting that damn lump in his throat once more. “I had a spectacularly shitty day, and I took it out on you. I was leagues out of line. It wasn’t fair to you and I’m so, so unbelievably sorry.” 

As if the strings were cut on a marionette, all the tenseness dissolved from Virgil’s shoulders and he slumped forward, bumping his head weakly into Roman’s chest. “Can we sit down?”

“Yeah, of course.” Roman clumsily led him to the couch and sat on the adjacent cushion, assuming that if Virgil wanted to talk, he’d want his own space. His assumption was incorrect, however, judging by how Virgil crossed the space almost instantly and buried himself in Roman’s side like a koala. He shifted them both until he was laying on his back, Virgil splayed across him .

“I thought you’d be more upset with me,” He muttered, freeing his hand to run it through Virgil’s hair. His fingers raked through his own tears trapped in the locks and he grimaced.

“I don’t know what I’m feeling right now,” responded Virgil, accompanied by a shuddering breath, “I just need to know that you’re really here. And I need you.”

They were quiet for a moment, watching the sun begin to peek through their window, until Virgil spoke again sardonically.

“If this is a dream, I’m gonna be so pissed.”

Roman snorted despite himself and felt Virgil’s responding half-laugh from where he was tucked against him.  

“I agree. I thought I’d fucked up for good this time.”

A disgruntled meow made Roman crane his neck over the couch, watching Figaro stretch languidly in their bedroom doorway. The cat sidled over to his food bowl and sat pointedly next to it. Feed me. 

“Later, Figaro,” Roman groaned, all too comfortable with Virgil as his blanket. A small part of him was worried that if he moved them at all, the spell would be broken, and they’d lose whatever peace they’d settled into. 

Well, that wouldn’t do at all, not by Figaro’s standards. The cat gave an upset mewl and trotted over to the couch, leaping up with grace and batting Virgil’s legs. It was that pettish action that made Roman realize that Virgil had turned stone still on his lap. Figaro changed his approach to headbutting at his arm in a clear attempt to get pets, but Virgil’s hand stayed still by their sides. 

“What’s going through your head?” Roman murmured. 

“That stuff you said, about me… not contributing to the relationship…” Virgil croaked, and Roman stilled,  “What can I do to-… to fix that? Because I wanna fix it.”

“Baby, no,” Roman whispered, that shame-nausea returning, “I-” He groaned, dropping his head onto the arm of the couch behind him, “I was being an asshole. I didn’t mean that.”

Virgil didn’t budge, still deliberately ignoring Figaro’s futile begging for attention. “Then where did it come from?”

He took a breath deep enough that Virgil rose and fell with his chest, and Roman was struck with the profound urge to pull him closer and never let him go. But that would likely make him feel trapped, and that wasn’t productive. “You remember when I dragged you to that improv show my students put on last year?”

“You introduced me as your boyfriend and we found out the class had placed bets on whether you were gay or not. I don’t know how it wasn’t obvious.”

Roman gasped in mock offense. “Maybe they just were trying not to stereotype!”

“Your phone case is a rainbow-”

“Anyways!” He interrupted, resuming his gentle threading through Virgil’s hair, who snorted but otherwise gave in to the affection. “Remember what happened after?”

“Mmhm.”

It had been a fantastic show, and Roman had been exceedingly proud of his little students, especially since it was his first time ever teaching a class. After the night, when the betting chaos had settled and everyone quickly adopted Virgil as theirs now, they’d pleaded to play a few more improv games before the theatre closed. Seeing as it was their last class, hence the performance in the first place, Roman had acquiesced. But neither of the men had expected for the gang of pre-teens to latch onto Virgil and beg him to play too, despite him having zero theatre experience. 

“Remember what they said?”

“They tried to pack all your lectures into five minutes of information.”

“I don’t lecture, I dazzle.” 

“They thought you were straight.” 

“Only some, and that’s not the point!”

Virgil finally lifted his head, pulling his hands up so he could lay his chin on top of them. He smiled weakly. “Then what is the point?”

“The most important rule of improv is to keep the scene going. No matter what nonsense you have to pull out, just never leave a scene flat.”

There was a quiet moment while the other processed that before, once again, that layer of hurt reappeared on his face. He pushed himself off Roman’s chest in preparation to get up. “So… you’re saying you saw that argument as another scene you had to keep up.”

“No, shit, that came out wrong,” Roman insisted, and Virgil paused suspiciously, “I’m saying, that in a moment of panic, I fell back on bullshitting my way through it! That’s literally what I do for a living!” 

The distrust gave way to resignment and Virgil chewed on his cheek, turning his attention to the window. He sat all the way up on Roman’s legs, leaning back on his shins. “How do I know you’re not bullshitting me right now?” He said. 

“Because,” Roman followed him up, careful not to move his legs and dislodge his boyfriend, “You know I like when the bed is made, and even though you hate making it, you always do when I’m out of the house before you.”

Virgil looked down at his thumb.

“Because you let me choose the music in the car.”

“... you don’t like loud music,” He muttered, picking at the skin around his cuticle.

“You adjust your work schedule to come to every single one of my shows.”

He shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, but you hate working mornings. You let me rant about all my theatre stuff, even if you don’t get any of it.”

“I’m learning.” A faint smile was breaking through.

“You tell me when there’s spinach in my teeth, or my hair is messy, or if I’m acting like an asshole.”

“Well, that’s easy enough.”

Roman reciprocated the smile at that, taking Virgil’s hands in his own to stop the attack at his nail. “I’ve been watching you better yourself for years, even if it’s been really, really hard.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Virgil asked with a small blush, switching his fidgeting tactic to fiddling with Roman’s fingers. 

“Every time you do something that betters yourself, you help us, Virgil.” He leaned forward slowly, giving Virgil the time to move away if he wanted to, and rested their foreheads together. “Yesterday, I fucked up. Badly. You said you were anxious and I still acted like a dick. I kinda thought you’d hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” Virgil whispered, seemingly before he had a chance to process it, because his blush multiplied tenfold. Roman grinned. 

“Aw, is someone feeling sappy?”

“Shut up, jackass,” He retorted, bonking their heads together ever so gently. 

“I’m so sorry, Virgil,” Roman said after their giggles and blushes had faded, “It won’t happen again, I swear.” 

In lieu of answering, Virgil closed the already scant distance between their lips, and despite Roman using all of his self control to not sigh into it, he found himself doing so anyways. All the tension bled out of his shoulders at once as Virgil pulled away, pressing one more peck to the tip of his nose, and then leaning back with a small smile. 

“So… that means we’re good?”

“We’re good.”

“Thank god,” Roman groaned, flopping back and dropping his arm over his eyes dramatically. He heard Virgil’s quiet snicker before he resumed his job as a blanket. Except this time, instead of nuzzling his head into Roman’s neck, he could feel the distinct edge of a chin digging into his sternum.

The hand lifted from his eyes to see Virgil staring at him, that goofy little smirk on his face. 

“What?”

“I love you, idiot.”

Well, now they were wearing matching goofy little smirks. 

“I love you too.” 

That seemed to satiate him, because he gave a little nod and laid his head more comfortably on the other’s chest. He could have left the conversation there, content to just let them lay there in peace until the world fell away- or Figaro grew more insistent on being fed- but Roman just couldn’t banish the one persistent thought in the back of his mind. 

“Were you actually going to propose?” He blurted.

Virgil tensed for a moment, and then gave a resigned sigh. “...Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Roman furrowed his eyebrows, desperately hoping he sounded casual, though his heart was pounding far too loudly to not be heard, “I would have said yes. If you did.”

“Oh?” Virgil lifted his head. “You’re blushing, Princey.” He could hear the smug grin.

“Nooo…” Roman whined. His arm draped once more over his eyes in a weak attempt to hide the redness, but he drew it away only moments later when Virgil didn’t retort. 

The man was staring at him with an odd mix of disappointment and amusement, huffing out a breath as he watched Roman’s eyes.

“This wasn’t how I was planning to propose,” He sighed, “It was supposed to be all perfect, and romantic, and stuff. And the surprise is ruined now.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Roman, continuing before Virgil could cut him off, “If it’s any consolation, I think a proposal in our pajamas, on the couch, would be very us.”

“You’re not in pajamas.”

“I slept in these clothes, they count as pajamas.”

Virgil snickered. Roman counted five breaths as the other’s face melted from a smile to anxiously knit brows, worrying his lip between his teeth as he looked down at him. It took another three for him to speak.

 “So…uh... will you…?”

Roman’s face split into a grin, “Yes, Virgil. Obviously.” 

Virgil’s expression morphed to match his and he swooped down to kiss him again, though they barely could with how much they were smiling. They both devolved into giggles, happy to just stay wrapped in each other’s arms, until Virgil broke away with a gasp.

“Let me grab the ring!”

“Ring can wait,” Roman argued, tightening his grip around his waist to keep him in place, “I want cuddles.”

And so they did.

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[ac3id]

bnha: tomura shigaraki x fem! reader

warnings: suggestive themes

word count. 1k+ 

a/n: based n this req:

i was gonna keep it short but then i went over 1k words so here it is 😽

tagging: @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love​​

navigation

“Hey.” Dabi’s rough voice cuts through the air drawing your attention to him almost immediately. He takes a seat beside you on the bar counter of the league’s dingy hideout. Another voice greets you; this time it’s cheery and girlish. You turn to your right seeing Toga take a seat beside you too. It doesn’t take a genius to know you are trapped. “The mission went well, huh?” Toga asks, eyeing your drink, there was nothing special about it other than the fact it was free. Whenever someone returned after a successful mission, Kurogiri always took it upon himself to make them a free drink in a form of praise. “Yes, it went well.” You replied avoiding eye contact with either of them. You knew what they were doing, they did this often. They liked to corner you and make you do things you didn’t like, they liked teasing you until the point tears were pricking the corner of your eyes. Their reason to torment you was always the same, they were taking a test to see how tough you really. A little different from the rest of the pack of criminals, you were a little timid and soft-hearted. Your meekness often perceived as cowardness of fear made Dabi and Toga think you were not the right fit for the group, maybe your quirk was strong but that was all the pros of having you. They’d repeatedly remind you but you knew better, they bullied you just because. The degenerates were no better than highschool bullies, maybe even worse.

“Good to see you are actually making yourself useful,” Dabi remarks abruptly making you shrink in your seat. You want retort but you have to say, he’s right. The majority of your mission ended badly, you were a new villain with no experience, it was not all your fault. “Oh, forget that!” Toga chirped, pulling you by your shoulder, forcing you to face her. “Do you know Shigaraki Tomura?” she asks. You look at her dumbfounded, not believing her question. “You know, the leader? With hands all over his body? Handsy freak?” Dabi encourages making you scoff. Were they seriously serious? Did they just ask you whether or not you knew your own leader, your employer? Of course, you did!

“Really!? I have never seen you talk to him, you always seemed to avoid him. So, I thought you didn’t know who he was,” she pouts explaining herself, “Are you scared of him or something?” Scared? Of Tomura Shigaraki? Of course, you were. You were terrified of everyone in the league but Tomura stood out the most. With his rude and cold demeanor, he intimidates you. The cold, pale hand which sticks to his face at all times adds to his eerie appearance, his vermillion eyes glowing from underneath it, sending death glares to everyone. A glance towards his direction is enough to tell you he's someone you don't want anything to do with. His quirk, his personality all adds to it. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to anyway, your shyness and fear of rejection would never let you open up to anyone else other than your friends. You don’t answer Dabi’s question, “I will take that as a yes,” he smirks cruelly. You try to retort but before you can say anything, he changes the topic.

“Tell me,” He calls out your name grimly, “are you a pussy?” What? “I don’t understand,” you ask nervously. The perplexed expression which scans your face makes Dabi cringe, he clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth before speaking, “It’s a simple question. Are you a pussy? Or you got balls?” You are still confused but get the basic idea, they were here to bother again. You have a bad feeling about this. You know what you should do; give him a reaction he does not want so he can leave alone and stop bothering you but you also know your pride won’t surrender that easily. There is no way you would ever admit to him that you are a weak, pathetic coward. So naturally, you make the wrong decision. “No I am not a pussy,” the word almost feels wrong when you say it out loud. It's not as degrading as when Dabi had said it, the need to drag it down the dirt and toss it back up is missing when you say it and Toga notices as she snickers. Dabi quickly catching on sends you a devious smirk, “Atta, girl!” he pats your head jokingly, you push his hand away annoyed. They liked sending you praises as one would to a kid, you found it revolting but they enjoyed tormenting you. “We have an important job for you,”  toga begins, flashing her taunting canines at you making you shudder. Oh, this was up to no good.

“So here’s the thing,” Dabi begins, “Boss has been kinda’ very annoying recently, if you talked to him you’d understand,” eyebrow twitching at the comment you wonder whether it was necessary. “And it gets hard to work with him so would you mind helping out, ya’ know what I am saying?” You look at him still confused while he just gives you an oblivious look, what was he on about?

“Helping out?” you quote, curiosity ridden in your eyes. Toga snickers before leaning in towards you, her breath fawns over your ear as she whispers a dirty, little secret. “You know, get him all hot and bothered. Help your leader out here,” you almost choke at her words. There was no way in hell you would ever do that! You never even want to stand closer than three feet from your boss, what Toga is asking for is downright atrocious. You push her away from you, creating a safe distance. You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment before you start speaking, “There is NO way I am going anywhere near that man!” you exclaim confidently. Dabi looks disappointed but he’s not given up yet while Toga pouts, “What!? Why not?” she asks and without giving you a chance to speak she continues, “I always catch you staring at him! Do you not like him? I thought you did, so we asked you,” her tone is apologetic but she is not wrong. Often you would find yourself zoning out and staring at your leader. Shigaraki always attracted your eyes. He was like a mystery, there was no wonder you wanted to know more about him. About how he thinks, lives you want to know so much more. Your curiosity about it unfortunately gets pulled out by your fear of him, you can’t imagine staying in the same room as him. Too conscious about his judgemental eyes ghosting your figure and searching for flaws which would make him want to leave you.

“I don’t like him, though.” You finish. At this point, you believe that you have beaten Toga and Dabi at their own game as you watch their faces fall. You feel pride enveloping you for the second time that day knowing that you had the crazy duo speechless. “Okay then,” Dabi still has to say. He throws a  devious smirk, “It’s a dare. I dare you to seduce Tomura Shigaraki.”

You are speechless. “C’mon, you’re not a chicken are you? You do this and I’ll do a dare you give me,” was he really ‘daring’ you to seduce the most dangerous man you have ever met for fun? “I- How would I even do that?” You ask. Your experience in the field of ‘seduction’ was absolutely zero. You couldn’t just walk up to someone and ask them to sleep with you. They have to be mocking you, right? This was a joke- a silly little prank, right? “Aw, c’mon! You don’t even have to go all the way, just kiss him maybe a hand job or something then leave! Shouldn’t be that much of a problem.” Toga spoke sending you puppy dog eyes making you cringe, “You are not going to do it?” Dabi ponders his brow raised, his eyes wait patiently for your answer. You think for a moment if you say no to them; you know for a fact a nasty rumor about you will go around no doubt ruining your reputation and if you say yes..well, you get to kiss your boss and as Dabi promised: you could ‘dare’ him to do anything. Maybe you will make him dance around naked.

“Fine, I will go..” The way their faces light up sends a cold shiver down your spine and your gut kicks in telling you it's a bad idea, but you cannot take your word back now. You reluctantly head into the dark hallway to your leader’s room where he had been locked in since the morning. Probably playing games or making plans for the league, you couldn’t care less. You knock on his door, fidgeting with your fingers while you wait for him to open the door, you didn’t want to barge straight in. It would be very disrespectful to your leader and you’d die before you know it. “He is not going to open the fucking door! Just go in.” You hear Dabi’s faint voice, guess they have been counting your steps. You hesitate a moment before reaching out to the doorknob, you twist it and it unlocks. A nervous sigh leaves your lips as you push the door ajar, stepping into the room and closing it behind you gently, trying your best to not make noise. You find Shigaraki adhered to his devices, his focus is completely planted on the game he plays. The bright screen deceiving shots of violence while he grunts and curses into his earphones. You stand there, next to the door, taking in his entire and it’s a mess. The lights are out, the only source coming from the iridescent screen of Shigaraki’s gameplay. There’s trash everywhere, his bed hasn’t been made. The covers and blanket almost fall off his bed, there are a desk and chair in the room which hasn’t been organized either.

Damn, he really be living like this.

You wait for Shigaraki to notice and you presume he won’t be noticing you until you let him know you are there but you are proved wrong as he glances in your direction, the most astonished expressions falling on his face. Shigaraki sits without father covering his face so you can see his features. Little scars are running everywhere, two significantly larger ones stretching across his left eye and lips. He scans your body head to toe as you shirk back under his heated gaze, “What the fuck are you doing here?” he asks and honestly you wonder the same. You don’t answer his question but move forward towards him changing the subject entirely, “Mr. Shigaraki, there’s something I need to tell you…” You stand right in front of him, your knee touching his as he is seated down on his gaming chair holding his control with his pinkies lifted. Your face heats up in embarrassment as you stare down at him with glassy eyes, your heartbeat picks up with him looking back at you with those murderous, red orbs confusion still written all over. You can get that he has picked up the slightest idea about your here as his cheeks pinken the closer you move to him. Your hand slides up his tight slowly, settling close to his crotch making him grunt. You lean down until your face level with his, “Shigaraki…” you utter softly before connecting your lips with his. The action catches him off guard as his pinkies fall on the controller turning it into dust within seconds, but he lets himself get lost in the feeling of your lips squished against him. Honestly, he has no idea what’s gotten into you but he is so glad he’s getting to experience this. Your lips are soft, and warm against his cold and chapped ones. The comfort he feels when your lips mold against him sends him into heaven, it’s a feeling he could use too, a feeling he wants to keep to himself. As you keep him hungrily, he takes the pleasure of running his hands over your body. With his pinkies raised his hands map across your curves, ass, and end upon groping your tits making you gasp into the kiss. Shigaraki takes this as his chance and nips at your lips, drawing a pained moan from you before pushing his tongue into your mouth. You let out choked gasps as his tongue licks away into your mouth greedily, you try to put up a fight but it’s no use. Your leader is much rougher, he kisses you like it's the end of the world. He is almost feral at the way he used your mouth leaving you no place to strength making you submit to him. When he pulls away from the kiss to regain his breath, he wastes no time in throwing you on his dirty bed and climbing over you. You look up at him, his cheeks flushed, eyes dark and clouded with lust, you remind yourself to thank Dabi and Toga later.

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