#the hairpin is so important to me

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

top 5 wips you’re most excited to write? :D

AH …. anon my beloved 🥺🥺🥺 tysm for giving me an excuse to talk about them!!!! i have a whole bunch but here are the ones i’m most excited for/planning to write soon :3 hopefully

TITLES ARE STILL UNDER CONSTRUCTION BTW but if you know where any of them are from you get a big gold star ⭐️

it’s your touch that i need

the best friend’s brother!satoru fic that i’m planning on posting next….. i’m . Unsure if i’ll have time to post it this week but :’3 i’ll get it done!!! honestly i just think bfb!toru is insanely attractive so this is mostly an outlet for that but . i have a plot mapped out kind of… the unrequited love trope is just perfect for him but it’s Me so it’ll probably be less angsty and more funny/bittersweet !!

here’s a snippet from it <3

”you’re a good kid,” he says, and his smile teeters on the edge of something apologetic. mostly, it’s pitying. ”there are lots of people out there for you.” the weight of his palm on your head is usually a comfort, but like this? it’s a specific kind of torture. he ruffles your hair, as affectionate as ever, the same as it’s always been. not a trace of any romantic intent. there are lots of people out there for you. (i know, you want to tell him, but your voice is raspy and your throat feels sort of dry. i know. but i want you.)

hunter, you were human

my neglected mer!sugu fic…… our beloved fish man….. one day. i’ll write it out. i’m having some trouble deciding the order of events + general formatting of the outline so 😭😭 i’m a bit stuck. i’ll get there though!!! this au has angst potential but it’s Me so trust that this will be fluffy and nothing else. lots of banter and cutesy moments. i have a lotttt of thoughts about this au and character/reader dynamic so….. i’m. really excited to eventually write it all out!!! i love him sm :cc

“i don’t really like freshwater.” … your eyes widen. his voice is silky, smooth, like a silver river running from the forked tip of his tongue; a melodic lilt that makes you think of the lullaby your mother used to sing you to sleep with. a long, slow moment passes you by, like the rocking of a rusty ship. silently, your tongue forms around a bundle of words, your mouth gaping like a fish out of water. staring at the merman in your bathtub. “you can talk?!”

consider the hairpin turn

THE BELOVEDEST OF THEM ALL …… my extremely neglected best friend’s brother!kenjaku fic T_T my magnum opus even . i started writing it out a while ago but had to stop bc i can’t decide how to format it …. i think it’d be best to tell the story through a lot of flashbacks but it’s difficult to decide where to put what flashbacks in a way that doesn’t disturb the flow, yk??? but i do have everything outlined and i’m super excited to finally post it :33 someday… bfb!kenny is the actual loml i have so much lore planned for him. this fic is just a whole bunch of yearning and tension… the tiniest tiniest bit suggestive bc he truly makes me ill.

nervously, your gaze trails towards the stairs. worried, your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip. kenjaku notices. a large palm cradles your cheek; making sure your eyes stay locked onto his own. ”don't worry about him,” he soothes, a rough thumb smoothing down your skin. ”it’s just us here… just you and me. why don’t you take a deep breath for me, hm?” (you do. without thinking. as if your body was waiting for instructions, waiting to satiate this gnawing desire to impress him, make him proud. be good for him.)  “now,” he exhales, in tandem with you, molecules mingling together. “do you want this?” 

only in the next world

ANOTHER DEARLY BELOVED WIP that’s been rotting in my drafts for a while ….. 👉👈 i think that out of all of these fics this is the first one that i wrote the outline to?? probably even before i made this blog. it’s basically just a canon-aligned au where gojo navigates his maybe-possibly-feelings for you, a new teacher at jujutsu high!! sooo really just my attempt to write what i view as a more canon-aligned gojo and his feelings towards love :3 mostly character-centered fluff and slowburn… some office au vibes…. i’m very fond of this reader!! and i love this version of gojo so bad i really hope i can do him justice…

“they’re a softie, huh?” shoko exhales — smoke drifting past her lungs, mingling with the cold air, a stench of tobacco that makes him crinkle his nose. ”they are,” she hums, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. a dangerously knowing look. “it’s not often someone captures your attention.” gojo smiles. ”is that what it seems like?” he drawls, almost a chuckle. closing his eyes and thinking of you, the fading scent of your perfume. ”well, who knows.” (certainly not him.)

signs of affection

my sickeningly fluffy cult leader geto fic <333 bc i’m spreading the agenda that he is a puppy of a man towards his s/o. this one is just meant to be funny and sweet!! i adoreee the thought of him dating a retired sorcerer with a normal ass job so in this one the reader works at a preschool…. and they’re meant to attend some kind of event for the preschool + is offered to bring a plus one. mild chaos ensues (geto doesn’t want to be anywhere near your non-sorcerer colleagues but he also wants to support you so he’s having a bit of a crisis rn…..) i LOVE this one and i’m so excited to write it out <333333 i think this geto is the most endearing man alive.

suguru blinks, eyelashes fluttering, gleaming under the shallow light of the lamppost just behind him. illuminating the peach-dyed flush dusting his ears, those wide pupils. and his lips, glossy with something cherry-flavoured, soon to curl up into a smile — fond, fond, fond. melting into your touch, basking in your long-sought attention. if he were a cat, you’re sure he'd be purring. he places one big palm over yours, where it rests on his cheek, and he stares. silently, like you’re the only thing worth seeing; dreamy galaxies inside his eyes, all honey and star clusters, leaking adoration. a milky way of love. ”… another,” he pleads, nosing at your fingertips.

#TYSM FOR INDULGING ME ANON!!!!!! #these r all very important to me #anyway im abt to spoil where the titles are from bc i cant contain myself 😔😔 #it’s your touch that i need is a pinkpantheress lyric (song: just for me) bc her music is so gojocoded and ESP bfb!gojo coded… #also the lyrics are very much in tune w the fic and reader being horrendously down bad #hunter; you were human is a lyric from one of my favorite mitski songs pearl diver <333 it just feels mer!sugu coded to me!! #but the song is a lot more somber than the fic #consider the hairpin turn is ofc a line from a richard siken poem <333 bc kenny is sikencoded and this fic is VERY in tune w you are jeff #that’s the name of the poem btw. you are jeff. it’s super good go read it rn !!! #only in the next world is a quote from my belovedest video game disco elysium :3 the full quote is: #“true love is possible only in the next world — for new people. it is too late for us. wreak havoc on the middle class.” #<- which is just. insanely gojocoded #aaaand finally signs of affection is the name of a persona 4 song that i rlly like :3 im not completely sure if that should be the title #but im going w it for now <333 #anyway if you read all this pls know ily. 🫂🫂 here’s your gold star ⭐️ !! #ask tag ✩

[f0point5]

Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader Masterlist

She’s still bejewelled - Y/N finds out F1 wag pages are once again speculating she is dating her best friend, Max Verstappen

It’s (not) a cruel summer - Y/N and Max enjoy the summer break

August slipped away - Y/N does a Q&A to catch up with her followers after summer break

Burning red- Lando puts his foot in it

Holy ground - Fans discuss their excitement to see Y/N and Max interact at Zandvoort

I’m the one who understands you - A window into Max and Y/N’s home life

It turned into something bigger - Y/N’s comments about her childhood friend, Mick Schumacher, lead to a social media firestorm

They’d say I’d hustled, put in the work - A look at Y/N’s podcast, Dirty Air(time)

Shake it off - Determined to forget her worries, Y/N goes out parting with Max and Lando

They say home is where the heart is - Fans discuss how Y/N and Max love being roommates

(We’re) in the club doing I don’t know what - Fans look back on Max and Y/N’s Club Rat Renaissance

Pauses, then says, (he’s) my best friend - Y/N spends the day in Amsterdam while Max does press at Zandvoort

How evergreen, our group of friends - Snippets of Y/N and Max’s other friends on the grid and beyond

We’re faster and never scared - It’s a dramatic Friday in the Zandvoort paddock

I watch Superman fly away - The drama continues as Y/N and Mick have a run in in the paddock

Long live all the magic he made - Y/N supports Max as he equals the record for most consecutive wins

Remember the footsteps - A look at Y/N and Mick’s lifelong friendship

He has his father’s eyes…his father’s ambition - A look at Y/N’s relationship with Jos

I love your handshake, meeting my father - Fans discuss Jos’s perspective on Y/N, and her relationship with Max

And maybe it was egos swinging - Everyone speculates about the cause and consequences of Y/N and Mick’s falling out

I fell from the pedestal - Y/N becomes the subject of internet trolling after her fall out with Mick becomes public

Don’t know how long it’s gonna take to feel okay - Unable to deal with the stress and trolling, Y/N goes home to Switzerland, cutting off Max

My reputation’s never been worse so - Y/N’s absence sparks concerns amongst those closest to her

If someone comes at us, this time I’m ready - Y/N’s friends publicly support her as the hate continues

You don’t want to know me, I will just let you down

My words shoot to kill when I’m mad - Mick and Y/N finally talk

Something in your eyes says we can beat this - Max has a tough start to an important weekend, but his luck is about to change

(We) saw something the can’t take away - Y/N is there as Max wins at Monza and breaks another record

This is life before you know who you’re gonna be - Netizens discuss Max and Y/N’s enemy era

20 questions, we tell the truth - Y/N catches up with her followers after a hectic couple of weeks, and meets a man in Monaco

On a Wednesday, in a café - Y/N’s podcast with Daniel leads to some interesting revelations

Do you really want to know where I was? - Y/N and Max spend a day at the factory as rumours begin to swirl

I make it look oh so easy - Y/N and Max choose different confidants as they both attempt to avoid the elephant in the room

You’ll find me on my tallest tiptoes - It gets harder for Y/N to keep her secret

Slow motion, double vision in rose blush - Y/N gets back in the saddle while Max watches from the sidelines in more ways than one

Carnations you had thought were roses - Two of Y/N’s secrets are revealed

Didn’t it all seem new and exciting - Max leaves Y/N behind in Monaco as she reflects on her date

Loose lips sink ships all the damn time - Y/N heads to Switzerland for a special appointment as her relationship with Max is put under a microscope

I don’t wanna miss you like this - Y/N and Max deal with the distance between them differently

Your finger on my hairpin trigger - Tensions run high as Max has a bad day on track and Y/N gets defensive

Takes one to know one - Y/N’s much needed talk with Elliot is interrupted by an explosive qualifying in Singapore

I want to tell you not to get lost in these petty things - Max’s streak comes to an end and he and Y/N look ahead to Suzuka

Forever going with the flow, but you’re friction - Max asking Y/N to fly out early to Japan leads to tension and Y/N turns to Daniel for advice

I drive down different roads - Fans, and Y/N, speculate about her budding relationship

(They) knew what it was, he is in love - Netizens set out to prove that Max is in love with Y/N

(We) counted days, I counted miles, to see you there - Y/N arrives in Japan and is reunited with Max

Balancing on breaking branches - Max receives an unexpected delivery as Y/N answers questions from the media and her mother

It’s you and me, there’s nothing like this - As Max gets back to business as usual in Suzuka, wag social media does it’s thing

My (baby flies) like a jet stream - Max has a good day on track and Y/N’s Vogue article goes live

I can read you like a magazine - The internet reacts to mentions of Max in Y/N’s Vogue article

He’s passing by, rare as a glimmer of a comet in the sky - Red Bull securing the WCC is overshadowed by the revelation that Max hates podcasts

The lingering question(s) kept me up - Y/N does an Instagram Q&A

I just may like some explanations - Y/N answers more questions

How you held me in your arms that September night, the first time you ever saw me cry - Set in 2017, we learn what led to Y/N’s dad being dropped as Max’s sponsor, early in their friendship

People started talking, putting us through our paces - When Y/N is spotted out with Elliot, Instagram, Max, and Lando react

I don’t wanna touch you - Y/N finds herself short of breath on her padel date. Later, she appears on Max’s stream

(I) will never make my parents’ mistakes - Y/N’s dad hears about her dating life, and her mother weighs in

Drinking on a (yacht) with you all over me - Y/N and Max kick of his birthday celebrations with a day on the water, while Elliot changes his tune

I’d pick you up and we’d go back in time - Y/N and Max bring in his birthday somewhere special

We’re gonna be timeless - It’s Max’s birthday, but Y/N isn’t the only one planning surprises

Take the moment and taste it - Max enjoys a birthday boat day with family and friends, and Vic makes an accidental discovery

There’s glitter on the floor after the party - It’s the morning after night before. Max and Vic discuss Y/N’s letter

Movin’ on was always easy for me to do - Y/N and Elliot meet up to talk and Y/N’s friend weighs in. Y/N’s tweets irritate Max

Your eyes look like (being at) home - Y/N goes riding, Lando proposes plans, and Max has plans of his own

No I didn’t hear the news, ‘cause we were somewhere else - Max and Y/N arrive in Doha, but rumours about Max’s Monaco exploits follow them

You heard the rumours from (your friends) - Max attends Media Day while Y/N hangs out with an old friend

‘Cause they don’t know about the night in the hotel - Max’s GQ interview exposes an interesting part of Max and Y/N’s past

I was dancing around, dancing around it - Y/N and Clara celebrate Max’s on track triumphs

(You) stand up, champion tonight - Max becomes a three time world champion

This life is sweeter than fiction - Max wins in Qatar in a physically gruelling race

Life makes love look hard - Back in Monaco, Y/N is seen out with Elliot, and he makes a bold suggestion

Can we always be this close? - Y/N and Max have a chill day at home and while Twitter notice Max made an admission in an interview, Y/N makes an admission to Victoria

Inescapable, I’m not even gonna try - Y/N and Max spend a day at the factory, where both realise they may have something to work on

You go talk to your friends, talk to my friends, talk to me - Y/N’s podcast with Oscar comes out, on the same day she finally films one with Max. Meanwhile, Max uses the sim in an unconventional way

Yes, I remember what you said last night - Y/N’s plans for COTA baffle Christian, and Y/N learns an unexpected fact about the past

Take out, then take me home - Y/N prepares for Austin, and an interview with Max comes out

Love’s a game, wanna play? - Y/N tries her hand at padel after watching Max compete, and Max steams with Redline

Rosé flowing with your chosen family - Clara and Y/N spend the day together, and Clara becomes determined to finish what she started in 2017

(We are) a flight risk, with a fear of falling - Y/N and Max head to the US

Ain’t it funny, rumours fly - Y/N heads to a Ferrari gala as rumours swirl about Max’s next career move amid reports of infighting at Red Bull

As if I don’t already see (it) - The circus settles in to Texas and Y/N’s dad weighs in on Elliot

Can you see right through me? - Y/N and Elliot make a king and awkward paddock debut

I’ve been sleeping so long in a twenty year dark night - Y/N sheds light on her dating history while she and Elliot struggle to adjust to life in the paddock

It’s morning now, it’s brighter now - Y/N reaches out to an old friend for support. Meanwhile, Daniel tries to support Max

The moment I could see it - Max takes another win in Austin while Elliot reaches his breaking point

You’ll find the real thing instead - Y/N and Elliot have an honest conversation

In the name of being honest - Bonus part where Y/N answers Instagram questions after the Austin GP

I’m asking you why - More of Y/N’s post Austin Q&A

You’ve got a girl at home and everybody knows that - Y/N and Max are suspects in the wildest paddock rumour yet as they wrap up their trip to Austin

You learn my secrets and you figure out why I’m guarded - Y/N gets brutally honest with Mick as Max plays goalkeeper twice

You saw the truth in me - Max cuts it close before media day as reports surface of security threats in Mexico

They tell you that you’re lucky, but you’re so confused - Max attends a gruelling media day as Y/N deals with the heat of Mexico

Laughing with (your head in my) lap, like you were my closest friend - Everyone has a tough quali day

This is the golden age - Maxico delivers another win, and Y/N celebrates with tequila

(You would never) me darling, but who could stay? - Y/N and Max arrive in Brazil for a short break before the race

No one has to know what we do - Max and Y/N fall off the map and enjoy some private time

I can’t say anything to your face - Max and Y/N continue to leave each other flustered and Max starts press for the Brazilian GP

The way you move is like a full on rainstorm - Max takes pole in difficult conditions and Y/N gets near her breaking point

We were cards sharks, playing games - Max wins the sprint and Y/N wins games of her own

🚨I’ve had to add a second masterlist for all posts after this point. That can be found here 🚨

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen fanfiction #max verstappen x you #f1 imagine #f1 social media au #f1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher

[harrysonlylover]

Bound Together*

Summary: Your ex seems to present everywhere you go including your bestfriend’s wedding where confessions are thrown around.

Trope: ex!H AU (not famous)

WC: 6.5k

Warnings: Mature Smut, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, jealousy, possessiveness.

A/n: who has exams in 3 days? Me!! Who’s writing fanfic? Me!!

Main Masterlist

White.

It was all you could see. White roses, white tablecloths , white flower crowns. Everyone was painted in white. It is an odd thing to see people dressed in white at a wedding, even if it’s the bride’s request.

Waiters and workers moved around quickly to make sure nothing was less than perfection. Above your head ,yellow light bulbs were hung with vases of flowers surrounding the entire area. The wedding planner scurried to fix some of the tables as you leaned back against a wooden door admiring the scenery.

It'll be an hour or more before the sun sets, the waves are calm and the sand is warm. The breeze fills your nostrils involuntarily with every breath you take. It’s almost impossible to not smile, or at least tear up.

You’re still waiting for your best friend Zoe to get dressed up, she refused to accept your help or even show you the dress she got 6 months ago. Not only did she want to surprise the groom but she also wanted to see your reaction once you set eyes on her full bridal look.

The murmur of the guests could be heard from the reception area where they’re supposed to leave a handwritten letter for the bride and groom or a recorded voice message using a vintage phonebooth.

You’re glad you’ve been here since the morning, you managed to avoid any unpleasant guests, spent an important day with your bestfriend and now you get to observe the waves hitting the shore.

You heard the whistle Zoe uses to call on you and you nearly tripped as you ran up the stairs of the villa to her bridal room. The smell of carnations filled the air with every step before you barged into her room like a maniac.

She stood in the middle of the room with a gypsophilia bouquet in her hand, your jaw dropped slightly as you took in her sight. She wore a mermaid wedding dress that hugged her curves matched with a sea pearl necklace that she went deep diving for on your last trip together.

“Oh my god Zoe..” Tears welled in your eyes as you approached her for a tight hug. You both couldn’t help but shed a few tears while holding each other.

“Your makeup!” You giggled as you gently wiped the tears trailing down her cheek. She looked absolutely gorgeous , more than you could ever imagine. She was a sight for sore eyes and you wished you could keep this memory forever.

“You’re like the prettiest bride ever.” It was you who couldn’t stop tearing up making her laugh even more at the sight of your ruined makeup. You gently pulled from her and rushed towards your suitcase for your film camera.

You took as many photos as your heart desired before pulling her in for one last hug and kissing her forehead.

“I want you to have this.” You placed the little hair pin in her palm as you awaited her reaction. It was a blue firefly hairpin that you fought on when you were young girls. The glimmer in her eyes was priceless and you booped her nose before she started crying again.

“I love you.” She mumbled as you placed the pin neatly in her hair.

Being attached by the hip to Zoe since childhood and growing up together only for you to see her a bride is a feeling that thumped at your chest. You were there for each other during every important and mundane milestone, no wonder you’ve had a lump in your throat since morning.

The groom, Lee also happens to be your friend. In fact you’re the one who introduced him to Zoe since you have a mutual friend group. Almost everyone from the groom and bride’s side knew each other so the wedding won’t be as boring as other weddings you’ve attended where strangers eye each other rudely.

“We should fix your makeup.” She led you to a small chair and quickly wiped beneath your eyes before reapplying the concealer and bronzer. She drew a dick shape using the eyeliner making you laugh audibly as you urged her to fix it.

“I should’ve taken a picture when I had the chance.” She laughed again as she finished her last touches. You stood up and took another look in the mirror. You wore a long white satin cowl neck dress paired with Dior satin heels and soft diamond earrings.

“Damn are you sure I can’t leave Lee and marry you instead?” Zoe shouted from the bathroom as she raked her eyes over your body.

“Just say the word and I’ll be ready.” You knew you looked good, incredibly good.

“I’ve gotta be down there in 15, I need you to check the situation.”

“Yes ma’am.” You fixed your flower bracelet and snatched your bouquet before walking out the door.

“Wait!” Zoe shouted making you peek your head inside the room.

“I just wanted to give you a warning.. Harry’s here tonight.” Her voice was low and rushed.

“Yeah I figured don’t worry.” You tipped her a light smile and went down the stairs.

Of course he’d be here. He’s everywhere.

At the gym, at dinner nights out, on vacations, the bachelor party. You can’t escape him even if you tried to.

After all you have a mutual friend group. It isn’t an entirely bad thing to see him everywhere, you aren’t on bad terms, it’s quite the opposite.

Your breakup was normal and healthy, both of you got busy with life and his job kept him away. It was a mature decision that stopped you both from taking up more time and space. Yet even the breakup didn’t stop him from leaving his footprints in your life.

Staying in at your house whenever he got too drunk during a night out, seeing him hanging around with your t-shirts that you never asked for back, his perfume lingering around your bedsheets and clothes no matter what detergent you used.

This is Zoe’s wedding day and you must suck up your emotions for her, even if it means burying the thoughts of what could’ve been or the image of you standing in her place but not with Harry as the groom, and perhaps that is why you never dated after him even when it’s been a year.

Your day has been hectic from the start, you kept Zoe company, followed the wedding planner to make sure your best friend doesn’t throw a rampage, then rushed to dress up and get your makeup & hair done. The only peace you had was during the 10 minutes you waited for Zoe to put on her wedding dress.

After checking that everything is going smoothly, you noticed that all the guests are taking their seats as the reception became empty. It was your chance to leave a quick message for Zoe and Lee before getting caught up in the ceremony.

The light in the reception was dim and a huge “Z & L ‘s day” was hung on the wall with more and more carnations adorning the place. You were right about it being empty, even the valet was nowhere to be seen.

Leaving a voice recorded message felt like a better option, your handwriting was shitty and a recorded message would be faster than thinking about words. You stopped in your tracks when you saw that the phone booth was occupied. Just your luck.

You moved a bit further and caught a glimpse of the person, you were all too familiar to not recognize him, even if his back is turned to you. His back muscles bulged through his suit and his ring clad hand rested on his hip.

“……..I really appreciate you both, I’ll miss our nights out even if they’ll stop for a short while, and Zoe thank you for introducing me to a very special girl. I think you know who.” He chuckled shortly after his last words.

“ Obviously no pressure but make me an uncle please. And Zoe this is pre recorded so I’m betting you a 100 bucks that Lee will jump towards the waves after the ceremony. Okay Byeeeee.”

It felt so wrong to eavesdrop on his personal message but you couldn’t move an inch from your spot. You missed his raspy voice, cheeky confessions and his bets on Lee but most importantly what he used to call you.

His special girl.

You never knew why he chose it and he never elaborated. Hearing him say it after so long almost got you paralyzed. All you ever needed to know is that you were his special girl.

Were.

A word that leaves so many question marks after he used your old nickname. You stood there with a train of nostalgia crashing into you right as his comforting scent hit your nostrils.

“Hey poppet are you okay?” His deep voice pulled you out of your tangled thoughts as you took in his figure.

He wore black trousers paired with a matching blazer and a white tanktop underneath, his attire hugged his skin nicely making all his muscles appear. His thighs, back and even a small glimpse of the abs were all making an appearance, the trousers were a bit tight showing toned his lower body is.

A single curl fell on his forehead escaping the firm hold of the sunglasses on his head, his smell was intoxicating and your brain got lost in memories of his skin on yours and the stamina working out had given him. He was absolutely insatiable with his Greek god physique.

It took you a few seconds to catch his eyes that were already raking all over your figure. He was giving you ‘The look’. You had him memorized like the back of your palm to know that this look is the same look he gave you when he used to say ‘ I love you’, the same when he wanted to fuck you so hard your ears would ring, or when he would gaze at you and tell everyone that you’re his.

Just like you also know that he probably ironed the suit by himself and hesitated on whether the sunglasses are a good choice or not.

How could you not memorize a piece of you?

“I’m okay! I just didn’t expect anyone to be here.” You replied quickly trying not to gaze for too long.

“It’s just me poppet, the booth is free now.” He opened the booth’s door for you and tucked his hands in his pocket before walking ahead then turning back quickly.

“Your look could kill a man honey.” He shouted over the music that began playing in the background then turned on his heels and headed towards the ceremony as you stood with the phone in your hand.

The wedding ceremony was the most beautiful event you’ve attended, Lee began crying as soon as Zoe walked down the aisle, and you took so many pictures that you had to quickly change the film roll before taking even more.

They shared wedding vows right as the sun began to set and you didn’t care if the guests were annoyed by you blocking the view, you had to get these shots for your best friend. You heard Harry chuckling at how you ducked from one place to another so you could get a better view.

After seeing him in the phone booth, you quickly left an emotional message and walked back to the ceremony feeling shaken up after his actions. The hardest part was looking away when the sun caressed his skin. It was the golden hour and it made him look sun kissed especially with his already existing tan.

He was laughing and throwing his head back at someone’s incoherent words, his dimples lit up his face as he squeezed his eyes shut and wiped the tears from laughing.

He always had a good laugh and teared up only when a joke was too funny.

His subtle flirting did not go unnoticed by you, you assumed that maybe he was tipsy, but he only drank one glass of champagne and he never needed a boost of confidence to make you flush.

You insisted that he poses for a photo as the sun adorned his face, he made a peace sign with his index and middle finger and gave you the broadest smile as you used your film camera.

“You look so pretty poppet.” He whispered as he walked around with his arm slung around your shoulder. His deep voice made your body vibrate and the mix of his aftershave and perfume was doing things to you.

“You’re not so bad yourself H”. His fingers grazed the skin of your shoulders making you suck in a deep breath.

“These roses are really pretty.” He pointed to the bouquets decorating the area.

“Harry these are carnations!” You giggled making him frown in confusion and look closely at the “roses”.

Everyone was moving to the dance floor including Zoe and Lee, you and Harry were the only ones lingering around near the altar.

“You know I had many visions of you walking down the aisle towards me, I still do.” He said nonchalantly as he looked ahead.

“I imagined it too.” He was digging deep into the wound and you might as well add some salt. His random comments always went inside your head so why not let out some confessions?

All of your friends classified you and him as “right person wrong time.” You both know that recently Harry got a new job with way better working hours and you became self employed along with many other obstacles that suddenly changed after your breakup as if you subconsciously fixed your life for each other.

You could feel him staring at your face which was the only thing that didn’t change since the breakup .You suddenly remembered your promise to yourself earlier today and looked behind you to see everyone dancing so you pulled Harry to the dance floor and forgot about your worries.

Zoe was having the time of her life with Lee and some of your friends performing the Macarena dance, you detached yourself from Harry and immediately joined her.

Lee had already taken his blazer off and flaunted his dance moves as Zoe challenged him while wearing a dress. You couldn’t stop laughing until someone changed the song, switching it to Maneater.

You and Zoe took on the dancefloor, feeling quite confident with the flow of the lyrics , your hips swayed gracefully as you lip synced together sparing a glance to Harry whose eyes were set on your body.

It was probably your favorite part of the whole night, everyone was focused on you and your best friend laughing about how the groom “lost”. After the song was over you took a water break during which Lee jumped in the sea.

“Zoe owes me a 100 bucks.” Harry chuckled as you grabbed a water bottle from the bar while panting.

“You’re panting heavily just like when I used to –“ His rambling was cut off by your hand closing around his mouth.

“That’s not something a girl wants to hear from her hot ex while she’s ovulating.” You were panting even more and his eyes dropped down to your chest area with a grin.

“Hot eh?” As he leaned back against the bar, his biceps tightened around the jacket making them protrude heavily, you thought the suit will rip off.

“Go help Lee he’s soaked.” You chugged down the water and threw the bottle in the bin.

“I bet you are too.” Of course he’d make another snarky comment before leaving.

What made you curious is that he never flirted with you openly this way before, he has complimented you but whenever he was this flirty when you were together it meant one thing only: he needs you badly. Which made you conflicted as you thought about his attitude since the ceremony began.

You watched as both Harry and Zoe ran towards Lee with their laughter echoing in their wake.

You wanted to remember this night so you stirred away from alcohol, you usually suffered from deep hangovers that left you without memories and one thing you’re sure about is holding on to this night.

You asked the bartender for a cherry smoothie and sat down to cool off with your camera hanging around your neck.

“Fun night yeah?” You heard a voice behind you and you turned around to see Julian, Zoe’s coworker who has been trying to ask you for a date since the beginning of time.

“Yes it is!” You tried to act pleasant as you took a sip of your smoothie.

“The dance you did there was quite nice.” He took a seat facing you and ordered a whiskey (red flag number according to you)

“Oh thank you, it is Zoe’s wedding after all.”

“The decoration is quite nice, did you do it?” You wanted to scrunch your face at him because he’s trying way too hard (the wedding planner is literally around) and you’ve told him you’re not interested before.

“No it was the wedding planner, i just guided her around.” You shrugged as you awkwardly took another sip of your smoothie.

“Yeah i could tell it was your touch”. He didn’t even know you well to be familiar with your “touch”.

You wanted to roll your eyes to the back of your skull when he said that.

“So i was wondering do wanna da-“

Please please no.

“She’s occupied at the moment mate.” Harry’s hand slipped around your waist urging you to stand up which you immediately did.

“Oh we were just chatting.” Julian cleared his throat.

“And now you’re not.” The change in Harry’s attitude made your knees buckle. He knew that you didn’t like the guy but the way he came for you made you feel warm suddenly.

“Cmon man she’s not yours anymore.” Julian stood up as if Harry’s gonna stoop low to his level or punch him.

“Who asked for your opinion shithole.” Harry’s jaw was so tense you thought it might crack. His hand tightened around your waist. You never thought he’d be jealous after you broke up but then again none of you spoke about your dates, which for you were non existent.

Harry was it for you.

“Okay Julian i’ll see you around and Harry let’s go inside.” You rambled quickly and turned on your heels not even waiting to see Julian’s reaction before you led Harry inside the villa.

One hand was wrapped around yours as you guided him while the other remained stuck to your waist.

Once you finally reached your room, you locked the door and turned around to see Harry with smoke radiating off of him.

“Why didn’t you tell me that he was bothering you?” He paced around you in circles like an angry puppy.

“He was just talking and what’s up with you getting so worked out!”

“Worked out? Poppet he’s annoying you and you rejected him many times.” He was whisper shouting and definitely taking things personally.

“Your whole attitude is concerning Harry, what have you been trying to hint at?” You approached him slowly as his demeanor slowly shifted.

“Why’d you get so jealous hmm?” Your faces were inches apart now and his eyes were set on your lips.

The room was suddenly too quiet with nothing to be heard but the rushed thumping of your hearts and the muffled music outside.

“He thought he had a shot with what’s mine.” He whispered in your ear leaving a tender kiss near your earlobe.

“Yours huh? Didn’t we break up a year ago?” Your breath hitched as his ring clad hand found its way to your thigh.

“And? You never stopped being mine and i never stopped being yours poppet.” His forehead laid against yours as you listened to each other’s shallow breaths.

“Harry…” You whispered as you swallowed down your throat.

“Yes babylove.”

His softness was otherworldly, he could manage to switch from a horny teenage boy to a domestic partner in a few seconds. His breath was shallow and you could feel his chest rising up and down.

“We shouldn’t… we’re not together anymore.” You tried to reason with him while avoiding eye contact. If anything, his expression has always been your weakness, the begging in his eyes, soft pout painted on his lips and his blushed cheeks. Looking up would be like a death sentence.

“Poppet I love you so much please.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and lowered his face to your chest before slowly going down on his knees and laying his head against your tummy.

“You can’t be someone else’s…. just no. I’m not giving up on us, this isn’t over.” His grip around your body was firm and you were too overwhelmed with your emotions to process that your ex is on his knees..

This is definitely not how you expected Zoe’s wedding day to go. Harry never hinted that he’s unhappy or that he misses you, but now that you think about it, he never skipped nights out with your friends, and randomly popped up at your door step every now and then with a different excuse. You could never say anything because you agreed to remain friends and this is what friends do.

But friends don’t go down on their knees for you, tell you that they want to fuck you, get jealous or imagine you as their bride.

Harry is anything but a friend.

You glanced down to see him caressing the side of your hip with his thumb as he looked up to you with the softest glimmer in his eyes, waiting for anything, a word, a whisper.

“Then claim me again H.”

Something flicked inside him when he heard you say that. Not only was it a confirmation that he could have you, but also a yes to his fantasies, to get to worship you again.

“You were always mine to begin with baby honey.” You could swear that his eyes shifted but his voice… a specific tone and octave that will always be an indication to how destroyed he’ll be leaving you.

You sucked in a sharp breath as he lifted you off the ground with one hand and placed your body on his shoulder before gently dropping you down on your bed. He unclasped your heels and pressed soft kisses starting from your calves to the back of your thighs.

Every kiss left an invisible mark that only you could see and feel, you didn’t even want anyone to see it. It was yours completely just like he is, body, mind and soul.

“My special girl, you don’t know how much I’ve missed this. You left me a starving man.” He breathed heavily as he left more wet kisses while his hands roamed your thighs and hips. He slowly pulled down your panties and pressed a long peck to your clit.

“Missed my sweet girl a lot, she’s been so neglected yeah?” He caught your now swollen clit between his index and thumb finger and gently rubbed it before blowing cool air on it.

Your body was paralyzed. You physically could not move as if you were bound to him, every touch he left, every graze and peck was planted deep into your soul and the back of your mind. His body towered over you as he whispered sweet nothings. You could die a happy woman like this, he was right when he said that you never stopped being his. You shared pieces of yourself with him and so did he. How could you not miss your own self?

“I need your mouth baby.” You barely managed to let out the words, you just wanted to sit there and let him do whatever he wishes to you and you’d let him in a heartbeat. It’s embarrassing to admit that you got soaking wet just from being around him.

He had a certain masculine aura that pulled you like a magnet to him. His physique was something you could not be blamed for, the suit had you frothing at the mouth with how it made him look so toned. His tan and golden skin, dancing around with your friends, and dotting on you then getting jealous. Lord were they normal actions but you’re wet. So wet.

“My mouth? Where darling, you need to tell me because I’m ready to explore every inch of your skin even if it takes days.” He whispered in your ear making goosebumps light your body up as you slightly arched your back.

You squirmed even more beneath him when his whole weight pressed against you. You had a size kink and the way he does certain things makes you involuntarily wet but he knows and that’s what makes him Harry. You pulled him in burying your nose in his neck as you took in his scent and wrapped your legs around his.

“I’m aching please.” You let out a shaky breath as he teased you by driving his hand slowly from your breasts to your inner thighs before flicking at your dripping pussy.

“Here? This gorgeous cunt is achy huh? Must be feeling empty poppet.” He cupped your pussy with his ring clad hand as you hissed the feeling of the cold rings against your warm flesh.

“So so empty.” You slightly raised your face to meet with his and looked him in the eye as you lead his fingers inside your cunt watching how his jaw drops before he lets out an audible moan.

“So warm my baby. All worked up for me?” He kissed your temple and moved his digits inside your dripping cunt.

You nodded immediately as he began caressing your lips before pressing his thumb against your labia minora, a move that he discovered in the beginning of the relationship and made you go crazy.

“Soaking my fingers and I barely touched you yet. Such a filthy girl.” He kissed you deeply , your tongues clashing together while he kept caressing all the places he’s so familiar with.

“My filthy girl.”

You lost track of time and the muffled music outside was a reminder that you needed to be quick. You can’t stay too long in here and miss important moments but you also can’t pull away from him.

“Please we don’t have much time” He immediately pulled away after your warning and buried his head under your dress. As much as you wanted to feel each other skin on skin, you didn’t have that privilege.

He wrapped his mouth around your clit with hunger and began working his tongue inside you. He flicked it in circular motions around your clit and inserted his finger in your opening in a vertical manner just the way you liked it.

You couldn’t see his face as he was literally buried between your legs, you moved your dress away to grab at his hair and tugged it roughly which he responded to by sucking at your swollen clit.

Your cunt was so puffy and red like you have been deprived of an orgasm for years, his tongue lapped at your mound with eagerness as if your pussy is his last meal. He thrusted two fingers, caressed your labia with one as he spat on your clit and glided his tongue against it.

“Perfect fucking pussy. Missed choking between your thighs” He slapped ass as your moans and whimpers echoed around the room. You’d do anything to see his face covered with your cum while you pull at his hair.

It already feels overwhelming to have his tongue on you after a long time, but his tongue glided smoothly in every right spot. If you ask him, he never forgot what your weaknesses are or how you love stimulating your nerve bud while getting fingerfucked.

“Fuck! I love your tongue.” Your moans were loud and you’re thankful for the loud music playing outside.

“Your pussy is fucking made for me.” He rasped as his mouth made wet slurping noises from eating you out. His jaw was sore but he couldn’t give two fucks. He made sure to leave hickeys on your inner thighs along with soon to form bruises.

He lifted your right leg and situated it on his shoulder before reaching his hand out and lacing it with yours while the other kept thrusting inside of your dripping cunt. His rings grazed your labia making you shudder and cry out his name.

“You should see how your juices are dripping all over my hand, rings and sleeve.” You could feel him smirk but all you could see is the visual he just gave you.

You squeezed at his hand and pulled harder at his hair when he sucked harshly at your clitoris. Your legs began to shake and you were so wet you could feel it dripping down to your anus. But that only spurred him to lick a long strip down your folds and purposely circle his tongue around your rim.

“Bet you could only get this wet for me.” He gently laid his head against your pelvis and shifted his tongue’s attention to your clitoris only that was bulging while his fingers teased your opening.

“Please baby I need to cum.” You cried out in pleasure feeling your whole body vibrate.

“Yeah? And who will you cum for?” He gave you kitten licks to edge you even more before reaching for your breasts and pinching your nipples.

“You fuckk!” You chanted his name and squeezed on his laced hand as your orgasm washed over you. All you could see was dark spots as your eyes were screwed shut, your ears were ringing and harry’s low moans echoed between your legs.

“Soak me baby. All of my face.” He lapped up as much wetness as he could into your mouth while you whined at the overstimulation.

You can’t say that you forgot how good he made you feel because you ached for it every night. Only he is able to make you feel like floating and only he can do it with love.

He left gentle kisses all over your vulva as he murmured compliments and rubbed his thumb over your hand. He always had a habit of not getting up after eating you out. You have to physically pull him away and find his face drenched in your wetness like a kitten drunk on milk.

You tried to regain composure as Harry towered over you again, catching your mouth in an eager kiss while you tasted your own cum on his tongue.

“Mine.” He lingered his lips a little longer on your neck purposely leaving wet marks. You were still shuddering from the mind-blowing orgasm he gave you, as he pressed his bulge into your spread legs.

“That looks painful baby.” You reached over to his bulge and rubbed your hand over it, watching as pure ecstasy washed over his face.

“M’leaking poppet.” He murmured into your neck, squeezing over your hand whenever your fingers brush on his clothed cock.

“Then let’s do something about it.” You lifted your body with his help as he unbuckled his trousers with shaky hands.

The urge to pin you down to the bed and fuck you till you’re seeing stars was through the roof. God, did he miss you.

If you had asked him to stay buried between your thighs for the rest of the night , he’d do so without question.

His special girl was irreplaceable and incomparable. As simple as that.

His cock strained against the fabric of his boxers as he quickly unzipped his trousers trying not to glance down and let his primal instincts get the best of him as you purposely spread your legs wide.

“Fuck.. i don’t have a condom.” The realization hit him in the face as his cock leaked on the sheets.

“I’m clean, i haven’t been with anyone since you.”

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.

“Neither was I poppet.” It took you both less than a second to jump at each other as you took notice of Harry’s darkened pupils, extremely leaky cock and possessive grip.

He pinned you down on your stomach and lifted your dress, giving your cheeks a rough smack with his ring clad hand.

“Of course you didn’t sleep with anyone. This pussy is made for my cock.” He rasped as he guided his cock to your wet entrance and began slowly thrusting in.

The initial stretch was heavenly. His dirty talk, weight above your body and thickness of his length made your eyes roll to the back of your skull as you let out whimpers.

“You can only take my cock yeah? Look at how it’s stretching your dirty cunt. Only me.” He growled and buried himself balls deep inside your pussy as your walls immediately tightened against his veiny cock.

You’re not sure how you managed to survive a whole year without his cock. As dramatic as it may sound, but Harry was showing you heaven. His thrusts were deep as he pounded into you from behind, making you bite your bottom lip and grip the sheets tightly.

“Fuck me harder baby. Show me how much you missed me.” You mumbled quickly, barely able to put two and two together as he drilled into you.

“You make me fucking crazy. I’ll fuck you till it hurts and you can’t move your legs.” The pure euphoria on his face was majestic. Not only was he fucking his dream girl. But you were also so warm, wet and tight.

His cock massaged your g spot over and over again making you cry out his name as his hand pressed deep into your hips and ass creating bruises that you’ll feel for days.

As much as the sight of your ass jiggling against his cock while you bent down was appealing. He needed you close to him.

He wrapped his hand around your throat and lifted you up to his chest effortlessly, before closing his bicep around your collarbone and sliding his fingers to your mouth.

He knows well how much this position makes you crazy. As much as you tried to hide it, he feels how you tighten around him and drip when he manhandles you and allows his size kink to show.

You were a precious sin wrapped up in sweetness.

His sweetness.

Your laid your head back on his shoulder, as his hand slid down to cup your cunt to show you how small your pussy is while it’s getting destroyed by his cock.

“You’re even tighter than before. I’ll have to fuck you daily to stretch you again.”

He laid his head against yours as you tried your best to look up at him to witness your favourite expression.

Eyes dripping with lust, puffy lips, nose still covered with your wetness and a grin. His devil’s grin that indicates how proud he is of fucking you so good.

“My baby. Feeling good?” He slowed down his thrusts and kissed your temple.

“Wanna.. c-cum on your cock.” You stuttered , gasping loudly when his finger pinched your engorged clitoris.

“Yeah? Cmon then remind me whose slut you are.” He unwrapped his arm from your chest and allowed your body to drop on the mattress before pressing his chest on your back laying all his body weight as he thrusted his cock fast and hard.

He reached your tummy with how deep he went. Rough thrust after the other while you took it laying down as he wishes.

His moans in your ear were heavenly, not forgetting to tell you how warm you feel or how he’ll fill you up with his cum then make you walk in front of everyone.

Your clitoris was so sensitive and rubbing against the sheet while his cock twitched inside of you and kept hitting your special spot repeatedly.

“I’m cumming H.” You gripped the sheets tightly and curled your toes as you allowed your orgasm to wash over you , feeling Harry spill his warm load deep inside your cunt right after you.

His breath was warm above your neck as you clung to each other enjoying the moment of bliss that you’ll always remember.

White.

It was all you could see.

Harry’s voice was an echo as he whispered ‘I love you’s and pressed kisses all over your back and neck.

You didn’t want to get up. You wanted to pull the duvet against you and stay wrapped in his arms till the end of time, but you couldn’t.

“Baby honey i’m gonna pull out.” You protested by whining but he only offered you one more comforting kiss before gently lifting himself up and pulling out.

The emptiness he left almost made you cry. As much as you tightened your pussy, almost all of his cum fell out. There was a pool of cum on your bed as Harry tried to keep his composure and not get hard again at the sight of your pussy flooded with his cum.

He glanced at the clock and noticed that it’s been 20 minutes since you both came up here.

Shit.

He quickly made his way to the bathroom , brought two wet clothes and began gently cleaning up in between your legs while you regained your energy.

The knowledge of being absent from the party lingered around you and Harry awkwardly. Your dress was absolutely drenched and there is no way you can go out wearing it.

“Harry there’s a black dress inside the closet. Fetch it please.” You lifted your body and found him so focused in his aftercare making your heart skip a beat.

“Do you think Zoe will know?” He asked as he looked for the dress.

“As if it’s not obvious that you can’t stay away from me.” You grinned at him before standing up and taking your ruined dress off.

“So? Sue me.” He said shamelessly while walking over to you. You stared at him as he asked you to lift your arms up before helping you put on the new dress.

The whole interaction may have seemed weird for exes but being intimate with Harry was so easy.

His eyes lingered around your face for longer than expected, as if he was admiring a star.

“Be mine again.. please.” It was almost inaudible. A whisper that only hearts could hear, but it happened that his and yours were knitted together tightly.

“I thought you said i’ve always been yours?” You smirked at him as you traced your fingers against his blonde stubble that you tease him for and compare to “puss in boots.”

“And you always had a good mouth eh?”

You replied by closing the small gap between your needy bodies and smashing your lips into his before swiping your fingers through his hair.

Harry swears on his life that in that moment, an image of you walking down the aisle flashed before him.

Bound Together.

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[spideyhexx]

mdni

Coriolanus abandoned his desk, which was strewn with papers. Work that needed to get done as he just stepped into a new political position. It was serious to him, of course it was. But you had come over. You, his best friend since childhood, and while he'd never admit it to your face, he truly missed seeing you after all this time.

It's not that he wanted to go without seeing you, but he buried himself in his work. Right out of the University, Coriolanus' schedule was taken up, day and night. You would hear little from him. He'd stop by for some tea instead of a full lunch, but that was the most you would've been seeing him.

Until this night when you unceremoniously showed up at his doorstep after dinner and Coriolanus simply could not deny you entry. It was clear you had some sort of dinner party, your dress fancier than your usual attire, but you had already discarded your jewelry and makeup and hairpins.

"You can stay, but I need to finish some things up," Coriolanus tells you, gesturing to the small couch in the study as he goes back to his desk. But he doesn't even make it all the way into his plush chair. He grips the back of it and turns to watch you, ever so gracefully sitting on his couch, relaxing, a small glint in your eyes.

He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts of taking a break with you and he sits in his chair. Coriolanus probably works for a good ten minutes before he walks over to join you on the couch.

You raise a brow, watching him, "Don't you have to work, politician?"

He laughs, albeit mockingly, there's still a smile on his lips as he plops down on the couch next to you. Coriolanus had taken off his waistcoat, leaving him in a pristine white button down and you dare a look at his arms as he starts rolling the sleeves up.

"I should, but I want to give you my attention," and that smile turns into something darker that you can't yet read.

"Are you getting soft on me?" Coriolanus freezes for just a moment but he regains his composure, leaning back into the couch opposite of you.

"Not at all." You hum at him, shaking your head, "So are you still all cold and mean?"

He scoffs, but he's still smiling. Coriolanus hates that he can't wipe the grin off of his face, but it comes so naturally with you. And the look in your eyes isn't making this any easier. He's been trying to read you since you arrived. You both always did that with one another, eyes searching eyes as you tried to decipher what the other may be thinking.

"Yes, I'm still cold and mean, if that's what you wanna call it," he replies, and he catches the slight shrug you give him.

"Do you not believe me?" He lets out a half chuckle, eyes narrowing as you feel him begin his search into your head. You were prepared for this though.

"I don't." You give him the sweetest smile you can, looking down at your fingers and picking off some of the polish.

Coriolanus cocks his head to the side, his own gaze dropping to your hands for a moment. "Do I need to prove it to you?"

You look back up at him, shrugging, "maybe." Your uninterested look was already starting to ignite a bit of fire within him, but he was in control right now. That's what he tells himself. He looks at your hands again. He knows how cold they always are. It almost makes him want to warm them with his own. They're pretty too, despite your polish being chipped, he knows already that your hands are soft and his mind wanders to how they'd feel and look around his-

You stand, breaking him from his thoughts. Coriolanus watches you walk over to his desk. You lean down a little, eyes skimming over the papers all over his desk.

Coriolanus makes no move to get up, instead just too curious about what you're up to. Your fingers tap the papers, standing in front of his desk, nudging the chair a bit so you can look, "Important work here, hm?"

"Very," he replies and Coriolanus was dying at the urge to get up. He knows you and he knows you've got something up your sleeve but he just can't crack it and it's driving him insane. It's as though his lips are completely numb and he's stuck there on the couch, watching you near his precious work.

You lean over the desk, grabbing one of his pens. Once the cap is off, you lean to write something on one of his papers.

While your eyes aren't on Coriolanus, you hear the scuffle of his shoes as he stands and stalks over to you, grabbing the pen right from your hand.

And you giggle. A fucking giggle comes out of your mouth and Coriolanus doesn't know how to take it.

"I was fixing a spelling error, Mr. Snow." He lets out a huff, his lips parting for a moment before he shakes his head.

"Don't call me that," he mutters, and you raise your brow at him like you're asking for the challenge. It's clear to you that you've struck some cord. You've missed this. It wasn't uncommon for you to annoy Coriolanus to death, but it's been so long and this new him was so easy.

"Why's that, Mr. Snow?"

"You're getting on my last nerve," he mumbles, setting the pen down and haphazardly trying to fix the mess of papers on the desk.

"Am I? Little me getting on your nerves, Mr. Politician?" You don't back down from him, keeping your stance at the front of his desk, him right next to you.

Despite the anger flaring in him already, Coriolanus can't help but smirk. He's no idiot and you've shown your cards now.

"I don't like you," he says and he wishes he could let himself smile at the way you laugh.

"Yes, you do. And you, my friend have made a spelling error on an important government paper," you point your finger to the mistake written on the document.

He grits his teeth, his head down cause he feels like if he looks at you, he'll break his composure. "Don't touch my work again, got it?"

You move your hand from the paper, but lean it against the desk, pressing closer to him, enough that you can see his jaw clench.

"Why? You gonna do something about it, Mr. Snow?" He dares to look at you and your lips play at the prettiest smirk he's ever seen.

"Don't test me," he sneers, taking a step closer to you and you stand up straight to peer up into his eyes.

"Am I doing that? I am so sorry," you say, but you know it's not genuine and so does Coriolanus. He can't even speak as he studies your features and the way you never break his eye contact. It scared him that you were never terrified of him.

"Cat got your tongue?" Coriolanus grabs your wrist and tugs you to stand closer to him, you with his desk behind you and his jaw clenched so tight, you were sure he was grinding his teeth.

"So you got some bite? How scary," you mock and you feel his grip on your wrist tighten. His hand was warm, but rough, holding onto you like he really wouldn't ever let you go.

"You're a fucking brat," he scolds you, and he thinks he's holding your wrist this tight more for his own sanity than to keep you in line.

"You like that I'm a brat," your voice drops to a whisper, almost surprising him but Coriolanus does not want to give in to your little game.

"You know I can shut you up, right?" He looms over you, shifting on his feet, clearly trying to intimidate you, but you haven't let yourself falter. Even though he's so close to you.

"Oh, do please shut me up, Mr. Snow. Who knows, maybe if you don't, I'll tell some of our...peers about how loud you are when you jerk off."

Knowing this was coming out of nowhere for Coriolanus, you still give him your usual smile as his cheeks redden and his grip on your wrist loosens for a mere moment. "H-How do you k-know-"

"I came by the other day. For tea. I suppose I came over...too early," you whisper to him, standing taller, your chest almost pressed to his if it weren't for him gripping your wrist in front of you. "You were quite loud, Coriolanus. And it was just you! By yourself! Moaning about wanting pussy so bad. It's a bit funny isn't it?"

"You wouldn't embarrass me like that," he mumbles, any sense of domineering he originally felt was diminishing and he hated it. He hated it so much.

"Would I?" You tilt your head slightly to the side and Coriolanus really isn't sure if you would. He racks his brain to find something to say, something to catch you off your guard.

"I could bend you over this desk, would that shut you up?" Your smile grows and he sighs in frustration immediately recognizing he failed again to crack you.

"Would that shut my mouth up?" You tried to lay it out for him and you knew he must have been on the same wavelength as you, but it was imperative to hear it from him in his beautiful voice.

"If I kissed you, you would shut up," he finally says and he returns a smirk as his mind drifts to the feeling of your lips on his. Coriolanus watches them part to say something.

"Perhaps. Yes." But he makes no move to do it. It's quite frustrating. Watching him stand so close you can almost feel the heat between his thighs and his grip on your wrist tightening even more. You would not give in and make the first move to kiss him or pull him closer. But he was doing nothing. He feels you search his eyes.

"If you don't shut me up, I suppose I can embarrass you in front of the Capitol elite with your masturbation habits, but I will say-"

His lips lock onto yours before you can finish the sentence, but you aren't one to complain now. Coriolanus let go of your wrist to grab your hips. His lips were chapped, rough against your own but it felt so unreal you couldn't stop. He presses his body against yours completely, almost begging you to jump on his desk, which you do, legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

Coriolanus pushes you tight against him so you can feel the strain of the bulge in his pants. He hates the way you smile into the kiss at this. Your hands push up into his hair and although it was so neat beforehand, you loved the fact you were completely messing it up now as his tongue licks at your lip, his teeth biting down on the skin.

His eyes drip with a dark desire you've never seen from Coriolanus as he pulls away, teeth tugging on your lip once more before pulling away from the kiss. You two stare at each other for a few moments, breathing heavily. His clothed hard cock presses to your clothed heat and you can feel the wetness now that you're sitting atop the desk.

Coriolanus cannot stop looking at you, he lets go of your hip to fist and then flexes his fingers before he grabs you again, harder than before, which makes you gasp. He chuckles, leaning closer to nip at your bottom lip again, "Cat got your tongue?"

You roll your eyes at him and Coriolanus vows to himself to make you do that at least ten times a day, "Can you keep shutting me up?"

Coriolanus' mouth finds itself back on yours in an instant.

let's chat about coryo, here :)

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tom blyth #tom blyth fanfiction #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow drabble #coryo x you #coryo x reader #coryo smut #coriolanus smut

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 2

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut (still not in this chapter lmao), No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon what canon

Word Count: 2k

A/N: So... this was posted prematurely a couple hours ago. This is the actual finished longer version. If you don't know what I'm talking about, thank god. Sorry this took so long, lmao

Just letting you guys know that my knowledge of the lore is purely based off of the movies and the Dune wiki rabbit hole I fell into right after watching part two. I also took a few liberties with the canon here.

I'm super open to constructive criticism, or any criticism at all (feel free to absolutely roast me). Like I mentioned, I've never written fanfic before so I'd love to hear your thoughts!

The evening of your first day in Giedi Prime was celebrated with a banquet where you were introduced to the most important people on the planet. You've heard many stories of the ruthlessness and brutality of the Harkonnens, hence surprised by the courtly welcome during the dinner. Although you did your best to politely ignore the Baron who floated at the head of the table being fed by servants.

You were sat beside his nephew who, despite your mother's education, has evaded your insight. You couldn't quite get a read on him.

Feyd-Rautha whispers to you amid the buzzing conversations of the banquet hall, "are you enjoying the food, little hawk?"

You shoot him a questioning look.

"I like your hairpin," he sneers.

You resist from reaching to touch the Atreides symbol affixed in your hair.

"We don't see such ornaments often here." He quietly laughs in his devilish way, only too amused with himself.

Ah, you realize. He means to torment you.

"Seems early for pet names," you say, picking at your plate, "we've only just met."

"Oh, and yet we are to be wed in less than a week's time," his raspy voice rings in your ear, "I should like to be familiar with my future wife, Lady Atreides."

The marriage pact had been signed when you were only a little girl. Inheriting your father's inclinations, you swore you would uphold your duty, undeterred by the gruesome and abhorrent stories about the Harkonnens—because you knew that centuries of conflict could end within a generation with this union. You were a willing bride.

And yet.

You give him a smile that, to those not privy to your conversation, would seem genuine, "You know nothing of me, na-Baron."

"I should like to learn," you doubt his sincerity but care not enough to discern it. He takes a smug bite of a forkful of meat, "perhaps tomorrow, you shall learn something of me."

The following morning Iassa helps you into another black gown, this time with a veil in anticipation of the black sun.

"Is it not dangerous for Feyd-Rautha to wager his life for a show?" you question.

"The na-Baron is a skilled fighter, my lady. He will emerge victorious," Iassa is straight-faced as she drapes the veil over you.

"Yes, I do not doubt it, but given he is the Baron's heir. Does it not seem a touch irresponsible to even risk it at all."

Not that you actually cared for his life, you just expected that the Harkonnens would be concerned with the preservation of their house regardless of their brutality. You recall your grandfather who got himself killed fighting bulls for sport.

"The na-Baron will be fighting war prisoners. They will be drugged beforehand. It is perfectly safe, my lady."

"Oh." You couldn't decide if you were disappointed or not, "I see."

Iassa seemed intent on dropping the subject, so you do.

You stand before a mirror and take a look at yourself. It is impossible not to be reminded of your mother. She was never one for vanity, but you like to think there was a part of her that always enjoyed the elegant dresses she and you 'had' to wear. You allow yourself a somber smile behind your veil.

"You look beautiful, my lady," Iassa curtsies.

"Thank you," you look at her bowed figure, gray robes made more dull by the stark black choker on her neck. You were sure she was at least 2 standard years younger than you are and it had only been a few months since you came of age. You wondered if she liked pretty dresses too.

Before you can ask her, there is a knock at your door.

The house steward, Jaromir, clears his throat when Iassa opens it for you, "The na-Baron requests your presence before he enters the arena."

Heavy doors open for you in one of the chambers beneath the arena. You are greeted by the sight of a half-dressed Feyd-Rautha being helped into his armor by a servant.

"Lady Atreides," he looks you up and down, "I hope you slept well."

You bow your head in acknowledgment.

"Your knives, master," a large man whom you assume to be the bladesmith presents Feyd-Rautha with two daggers.

The young Harkonnen takes one and caresses the blade with his fingers.

"I've come to wish the brave na-Baron well before his fight in the arena," you say in false earnestness.

He smiles at your inflation of his ego.

"Though I must say, I am relieved it is all for show. I would not like to see my groom wounded before we are wed."

"For show?" Feyd-Rautha tilts his head and you see his arrogant facade show the slightest crack.

"Yes, I've heard your opponents will be drugged will they not?" your voice dripping with innocence, "to ensure your safety, of course."

His grip on the dagger tightens, "and where did you hear this exactly?"

You sense the awkwardness and tension in the servants. The one who had helped don Feyd-Rautha's armor has quietly retreated to the far side of the chamber. There is a subtle tremble in the hands of one holding a plate of towels. You finally notice the three women piled upon a raised platform glaring at you.

"Just voices around the fortress," you shrug.

A deep breath recovers Feyd-Rautha's smug expression. "Call for the warden," he orders one of the guards by the door, "tell him to prepare new prisoners. Sober ones."

"My lord, you need not endanger yourself," you feign worry.

"Nonsense." The na-Baron walks closer to tower over you, "My lady bride deserves to see my true prowess."

He sees through your challenge, but you don't care. Seeing his self-satisfied smirk wiped from his face for even just a second was worth it.

"Besides," he turns away from you to inspect the second knife, "my darlings enjoy meat that's fought for its life."

The three women sneer at this and you see their sharp teeth as they hiss amongst themselves.

You've heard of Feyd-Rautha's concubines long before you arrived on Giedi Prime. Tales of their taste for human flesh were one of the things that tested your resolve in fulfilling the marriage pact. You didn't mind that the na-Baron would keep other women. It would result in less of his attentions on yourself, you figured. It was their perverse appetite that nauseated you.

A look of revulsion hides behind your veil which you sense they would be all too happy to rip to shreds.

"I will see you in the stands, little hawk," Feyd-Rautha whispers to you as he waves for a guard to escort you out.

You do your best to drown out the noise of what seemed to be a countless audience that came to see the na-Baron fight. You could understand now why they uphold such brutal traditions. The people are so excited for it.

On the other side of the arena, you sense Vladimir Harkonnen watching you from the Baron's Box that towered over the whole arena. The blazing sun only helps you avoid looking in his direction. You were sat at a viewing box, still for nobility and separated from the masses, but much lower and closer to the sands of the arena. Jaromir had told you that you were to 'give the na-Baron your favor'.

Before long, the master of ceremonies announces Feyd-Rautha's entrance in Giedi Prime Speech. They are celebrating his betrothal to you and the union of Harkonnen and Atreides, you translate in your head. You wonder if the people care for the politics of the Great Houses. They seemed no less excited to cheer at your name despite the centuries-old blood feud.

Massive doors open as the na-Baron walks into the arena. His arms outstretched holding his knives like an extension of his limbs. He riles up the crowd as he walks towards the Baron's Box and kneels to his uncle. He then rises and walks toward you, smirking under the stark light of the black sun.

You may not fear earning the Harkonnens' contempt, but you were the Duke of Caladan's daughter and you knew that the favor of the people was invaluable.

You stand and walk to the edge of the viewing box. The glowing smile you reveal as you lift your veil draws cheers from the crowd that rival what Feyd-Rautha received. You produce a pure white handkerchief from your dress pocket and make a show of kissing it and waving the cloth at the buzzing crowd. You throw it off the edge and it floats toward the na-Baron who had moved both daggers to one hand to catch it. He looks up at you with what you think could be the seeds of respect and tucks the cloth into the tight armband around his right bicep.

He turns back to the audience and raises his knives in a war cry. The crowd explodes in guttural cheers and applause. Feyd-Rautha takes his position in the middle of the arena as his first opponent is released into the white sands.

You've heard of the Harkonnen heir's aptitude in single combat. It's time to see if the stories were true or if it was just another part of their menacing facade.

You were handed a pair of spyglasses to observe with. The two fighters approach each other, the prisoner wielding a knife of his own. Feyd-Rautha holds a taunting stance. The prisoner was sober, you were sure, but even without the spyglasses, you could see he was weak. You surmised the Harkonnen cells weren't very hospitable. He attempts a swipe but the na-Baron parries with ease. Another and the na-Baron dodges. Zooming in, you could see Feyd-Rautha's twisted amusement. He was toying with the poor man—and the people loved it.

The crowds cheered at the clashing of metal, thundering when the na-Baron drew first blood by slashig his opponent's arm. It wasn't long before Feyd-Rautha's dagger had impaled the prisoner's heart. There was no pause before a second prisoner was brought out to meet a similar fate.

Feyd-Rautha stood unwounded, seething with exhilaration. He enjoyed this; the thrill of killing. He basked in the roar of the crowd. You had never ended a life before, but some deep part of you could almost understand how he felt in that moment.

A third prisoner enters the arena. He looked older than the first two, bearded and taller. He reminded you of Gurney Halleck, the Atreides Warmaster. This man certainly wasn't at his prime but you could tell he would not go down as easily as the first two.

The warrior holds his blade out in a firm fighting stance, refusing to make the first move. You notice picadors in black suits have entered the arena, circling the na-Baron and his opponent. Feyd-Rautha lunges at the prisoner and a quick series of parries from both sides occur. You see the finesse in the na-Baron's movement. He recognizes his opponent's skill and he is taking this one seriously. You were not sure what you expected of the Harkonnen's fighting style but Feyd-Rautha was vicious but precise. The crowd gasps when the prisoner disarms one of the na-Baron's knives. The warrior manages to get a grip on Feyd-Rautha's armed hand and aims to pierce the na-Baron's neck with his blade. The na-Baron struggled against his hold and the arid air was thick with anticipation.

You were unsure what outcome you desired as you stared through your spyglass. Perhaps this warrior kills your betrothed. What then? Would you really be able to go back to Caladan's windy cliffs again? Return to the arms of your mother as if it were all a bad dream? You wonder if when Feyd-Rautha becomes baron, and you his baroness, could you convince him to let you see your family.

The warrior's blade was dangerously close to your future husband's throat when one of the picadors lashes at the warrior. The na-Baron growls at the offending picador as the warrior is weakened. Feyd-Rautha pushes him off and allows him a moment to recover, taunting him to try again. Blades clash once more and after a sequence of quick ferocious movements, Feyd-Rautha's blade slashes the warrior's throat. Blood made black by the infrared of the sun splatters onto the na-Baron. He licks the darkness that landed on his lips. Heaving, he takes your bloodied handkerchief off his armband and raises it to you and the roaring crowd.

You did not even realize you were already standing, breathless at the sight.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore

#feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune #dune part two #baron harkonnen #baron vladimir harkonnen #house harkonnen #house atreides #giedi prime #austin butler #space-mango-company #fic: stranger

[spirit-lanterns]

THE BOSS’ CHARACTER SHEET

A semi-detailed post about the Boss’ character information and personality. Certain pieces of information are REDACTED, but will be unlocked in the future.

All information available for the Boss, is under the cut:

BIO: 

FULL NAME: ??? “The Boss” {TO BE UNLOCKED}

GENDER: Female 

PRONOUNS: She/her 

AGE: 38 years old 

HEIGHT: 5’8

MODEL TYPE: Tall female 

TYPE: Playable character

FACTION(S): The Rabbit’s Foot

WORLD: Penacony

RARITY: 5 Star 

PATH: Harmony 

COMBAT TYPE: Imaginary 

OVERVIEW:

The Boss is a woman of mysterious origin. No one in Penacony recalls just how she set foot upon the elusive planet of festivities, yet The Rabbit’s Foot, her most prized casino, is quite popular amongst the people of Penacony for all the riches and Bunnies she has to offer…

A mature woman of high status and a slacker to boot, the Boss is quite a mixed bag as no one really knows what to expect when conversing with her for the first time. People expect her to be a lavish, elegant, and proper woman, yet if you ask the Bunnies of the casino, they’d all say their Boss is a well-known “lazy bones.” 

Besides sleeping at her office and lounging with her Bunnies, the Boss enjoys collecting intricate tea sets and watching Broadway shows. 

APPEARANCE:

The Boss is a tall woman with long, blonde hair, always pulled up in an intricate updo with multiple hairpins and clips, light blue eyes, fair skin, as well as a darkly colored kimono with floral patterns. On her “lazy days” however, the Boss likes to leave her hair down, her clothes often not worn properly as she has a habit of wearing her clothes in a way where it exposes her shoulders and other assets.

She has a detailed sleeve of tattoos on her right arm (your left) that depict a branch of colorfully pink sakura flowers. It can sometimes be shown when the Boss doesn’t wear her clothes properly. 

PERSONALITY:

The Boss is a lazy, yet mature woman that has a habit of napping in her office whenever she’s left alone. She’s a slacker through and through, and she never really does her paperwork unless her Bunnies force her to. 

She’s also quite into adult indulgences, such as alcohol, smoking, gambling and sex. Not afraid to show off her wants and desires, the Boss can also be quite straightforward whenever she wants something of her affection. Besides coming off as a lazy bum however, the Boss cares deeply for her Bunnies, as she’s always looking for ways to keep them satisfied. 

Sometimes when she’s left alone, the Boss can be seen frowning and immediately lighting her pipe for a smoke, before quickly changing her downcast expression to an aloof one.

BACKSTORY: 

{TO BE UNLOCKED}

VOICE-OVERS:

FIRST MEETING: “Ah…a pleasantry to meet you. My name? Hah…just call me Boss, sweetheart.”

GREETING: “You’re back! That was fast…did you want to rent out a Bunny? Or perhaps…you came back for me?”

PARTING: “Come back soon, the Bunnies always miss you, I know I do…”

ABOUT SELF: REAL NAME: “My real name is not of importance, people know me as Boss and I stick to it. The Bunnies never really asked, but you are the first person to push on this topic. Heh, what? Don’t look at me like that, I like being called Boss.”

ABOUT SELF: SMOKING: “Sorry, I know the smell of smoke isn’t pleasant, but I can’t help it whenever I’m stressed. I know, I know, it’s a bad habit, but…gambling is a bad habit too, right?”

CHAT: BUNNIES: “Ahhhh I just love my Bunnies so much! They’re so cute and bouncy, but goodness are they hyper. I had to build an indoor gym just for them in the casino, just so they could get their zoomies out.”

CHAT: NAPS: “I love napping. I hope it doesn’t show my age, but napping just replenishes my energy so much that sometimes I coax the Bunnies into napping with me in my office. They make the perfect cuddle buddies.”

HOBBIES: “I don’t drink tea, but I love collecting tea sets. I have an entire cabinet at home just filled with different sets from all over the galaxy. I even have one that has little bunny teacups!”

ANNOYANCES: “I hate drunk people. Why would you drink so much if you know your alcohol tolerance is low? (Sigh) At the very least, my Bouncer Bunnies are able to take care of it.”

SOMETHING TO SHARE: “If you scratch a Bunny’s ear at the base of their scalp, their foot will begin to tap rapidly against the floor. Hm? How do I know this? Aha…I like exploring with my hands.”

KNOWLEDGE: “When you drink alcohol, you have to do it fast. Slow, leisurely sips make the alcohol burn your throat longer, yet if you drink it in one go, you are able to enjoy the taste.”

ABOUT: (BUNNY READER): “Ah…(Bunny Reader)...why won’t she stay with me? Oh! How long have you been standing there?”

ABOUT: KAFKA: “She’s not a criminal under the casino, she’s a customer. However, I won’t lie and say that I am completely thrilled that a Stellaron Hunter is renting out one of my Golden Bunnies every week. I can’t imagine what she’s doing to my poor Bunny…”

ABOUT: HIMEKO: “I like Himeko, she’s a very sweet woman and her coffee recipe is divine. I’ll have to visit her on The Express one day and see her tea set collection myself.”

ABOUT: BLACK SWAN: “I never really know what’s going on with that woman, but she’s a very efficient dealer. She puts some of my Dealer Bunnies to shame with how quick her hands are, hehe.”

ABOUT: ACHERON: “The Galaxy Ranger, right? She’s not the best gambler, but her ambition is admirable.”

ABOUT: FIREFLY: “Ohhh, that poor girl. She’s been tackled in the casino sixteen times now by my Golden Bunny.”

ABOUT: ROBIN: “She’s probably the worst gambler I have ever seen, yet she seems to be a favorite of my Golden Bunny.”

ABOUT: TOPAZ: “She’s cheated in a gamble before, but thanks to Black Swan she was caught and punished accordingly. I would’ve kicked her out of the casino for this, but (Bunny Reader) loves to keep her around for some reason.”

ABOUT: SERVAL: “I hire her sometimes to play live music in my casino. The patrons and Bunnies love her very much, so she gets discounts sometimes if she wishes to rent out Golden Bunny.” 

ABOUT: CONSTANCE: “Logically she’s much more dangerous than Kafka, but I can’t help but trust her more. Maybe it’s just because I’m a little biased and we have wine together sometimes.” 

TRIVIA: 

The Boss’ real name translates directly to “Spring Princess.”

The Boss uses her smoking pipe as a weapon when in combat. The smoke from it can increase the stats of party members. 

Her alcohol tolerance is extremely high.

The Boss has talents in dancing and embroidery. 

She is bisexual. 

The Boss claims she is an ass woman because “everyone has an ass, therefore ass is the best part.”

The Boss is a criminal. For what exactly is a secret and will be revealed in her backstory.

GALLERY:

Left Art: @e-hibiscus on Tumblr

Right Art: @deadflyartlogs on Instagram

#🕯️ghost post #casino au

[sdr2lovemail]

Daki with a gender neutral reader that's like a parent or older sibling to her. The reader is willing to help daki despite knowing she's a demon. and if you could add platonic cuddles that would be nice

Comfort in the Kyogoku House (GN Reader)

Synopsis: In the blood-soaked world that is her life, Daki finds comfort in the Reader's presence.

Notes: Slowly but surely getting back into writing. I have a few wips I hope I can finish! :)

Requests are open!

The shoji door slams open with great force. Your needle and thread nearly fall at the sound. Warabihime stands in the doorway, a nasty glare on her delicate features. She wordlessly stomps through the room, shutting the door behind her. 

“Warabihime, good evening.” You greet her with a small smile.

She takes the kimono from your hands, tossing it to the side without a care. The oiran takes the fabric's place, practically throwing herself in your lap and hiding her face in your kimono.

You sigh while gently removing her ornate hairpins. “I’m supposed to be fixing that garment, Warabihime.” 

There’s a sharp growl before she starts to whine. “So what?! That kimono is hideous! I’m more important than some disgusting colored fabric.” There’s a moment of silence as she rests her head against your thighs. Her voice is softer, more childlike. “Call me Daki, now.”

Unlike the other members of the Kyogoku House, you knew that Warabihime was a demon named Daki, along with knowledge of her brother. Originally, Daki planned on taking you away with her obi. As one of the nicer-looking members, she wanted to eat you herself.

She should’ve killed you a long time ago. You didn’t act like everyone else around the house. No, you spoke against her, chastised her for picking on the younger girls, never just obeying her like everyone else did. But you also weren’t mean to her. Acting so friendly towards her and wanting nothing back in return. In a way, you reminded her of Gyutaro. Always wanting what is best for her.

When you talked to her, it was stern but never harsh. It made Daki feel weird. She never gave anything to you but snide remarks and mean glares, so why did you look at her with such kind eyes? The entertainment district wasn’t a place of goodwill. People were only nice when they wanted something. Patrons pretending to be friendly to get a piece of the girls, house members trying to kiss up for better treatment.

You treated her like what she is not; a human. It was a new feeling that Daki didn’t want to snuff out yet.

Once you’ve finished taking out her hairpins, her hair starts to fall out of the usual intricate style. Your fingers rake through the dark locks, feeling her cold scalp against your skin. “Is everything okay, Daki? You seemed upset when you walked in.”

Daki’s brow furrows as her body tensed. Her nails dig into the fabric of your kimono, tearing small holes into it. Sitting up from her resting spot, she starts to go off.

“A slayer came by today! He was hideous. Another annoying brat who thought they could beat me. That stupid worm got his nasty blood all over my kimono!” She whined, beating her fists on the floor. “I’m Upper Moon Six! I’m stronger than any of them!”

There’s that feeling again. When your hand touched her clenched fist, Daki felt that gross feeling of warmth. 

“I’ll wash your kimono with the next load of laundry. It’ll wash right out.” It wasn’t your first time washing out bloodstains. You've convinced the sibling demons to let you clean the rooms after obtaining their meals.

Daki puffed up like a happy kitty, returning back to her place, curled up at your side. She took your hand and placed it atop her head, wanting you to keep playing with her hair. Letting out a happy sigh, she pressed her cheek into your clothes. “You always do everything for me. That’s why I like having you around. Someone who treats me the way I deserve.”

Those weren’t her exact feelings. When Daki is around you, she feels a way she never has. Like it was a hundred years ago and she was a little girl again. But unlike then, she felt… secure with you, something she only tended to feel with her brother.

There was the sound of cracking bones and ripping flesh. From her back, Gyutaro separates himself from his sister. He starts to poke at Daki’s forehead, his face still holding that same apathetic expression.

“Mnnn, you can’t just come crawling to them when you’re inconvenienced. You act like such a baby when they’re around.” He groans as Daki swipes her nails at him. His skin breaks and heals just as fast.

“I do not! Unlike you, I can show my appreciation for them and their unwavering loyalty. Now shut up, you’re ruining my peace!” The younger demon moves so her head is resting on your thighs, her face almost pressing against your stomach.

Gyutaro growls at her snide remarks and reaches over to flick her before rethinking. He rests his hand at his side while looking over to you.

With that warm, kind smile, you wordlessly offer the other side of your body for him to rest. Sucking his teeth, Gyutaro turns away from you, resting against the wall instead.

For a while, the room is silent. While demons didn’t need to sleep, Daki enjoyed it. The quiet nothingness was relaxing. At some point, you had shut your eyes as well. Thinking you were asleep, a matted mop of hair rests against your shoulder. Cold skin grazing against your neck. 

They’ll be gone once you wake up. But for now, you could enjoy this strangely domestic moment.

#daki x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer #kny daki #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #x reader #gyutaro x reader #but he only shows up at the end

[spiegelgestalt]

I want you to want me (Part 1/3) - Privileged boy learns to consider other people's feelings

So here's the thing. I don't believe Jinshis communication issue is keeping his desires to himself. That boy if he wants something will make his desire known if you want it or not. He will chase you with his gaze, he will try to feed you honey, he will shower you with gifts, he will declare that he will marry you in front of everyone via symbolism anyone who isn't pretending to not get the hint would get the hint.

Jinshis real issue is recognizing boundaries, excepting them and not treat people like things. He actively has to fight the mindset that he just can do everything what he wants. And in the beginning no one his helping with this (sorry not even Gaoshun and Surei). This is an issue people with power/privilege often run into because the more power you have the less people will tell you no directly to your face. You have to intuit it.

Let me show you some of the development Jinshi goes through in LN 1 (consider this your spoiler warning also my hand slipped, this will be long and disorganized and will have a part two)

The hairpin scene

"This hurts Sir!" This time she didn't hide her displeasure. [...] "Does it? I give this to you"

The scene begins with Jinshis getting closer and closer to Mao Mao who for once isn't wearing her freckles. Gaoshun notes that he looks like a boy who's playing with his toys. Banter starts then Mao Mao tells Jinshi that she disguises her face because she doesn't want unwanted attention from men. She doesn't want to be raped, she doesn't want to be kidnapped, she wants to be left alone. Jinshi learns that Mao Mao isn't in the rear palace because her family sold her into it but because she was kidnapped and sold. But it wouldn't make a difference to her either way. This does something to him because he has to consider for the first time that Mao Mao isn't in the Rear Place because of her own choice. She's unfree and that makes him feel bad. So how does he react to that revelation? He doesn't ask what she needs or wants he just stabs (HA! I'm so funny) her with his own desire to protect her and leaves it at that. And thing is, giving Mao Mao the hairpin is a nice thing to do - the hairpin is basically Mao Maos ticket out of the rear palace if she wants to use it. It's protection, it's safety, it's freedom in a certain way. BUT it also means that she belongs to him and Jinshi doesn't consider even for a second that this is something Mao Mao wouldn't want. Even though all she's giving him are dirty looks. He wants her, so she belongs to him. She is his toy. He's absolutely blindsided by Mao Mao not relying on him. That's why he thinks he has a right to question Mao Mao who Lihaku is once she used Lihakus hair pin instead of Jinshis. And to give credit were credit is due he accepts that Mao Mao doesn't want to use his hairpin. He accepts the boundary once he realizes it's there. But this is something he really struggles with.

Please execute me with poison

This is another important scene for Jinshi and it shakes him to his core: after a Courtesan kills herself Mao Mao tells him point blank that she can't refuse him because he has the power to have her executed. And this manufactures non consent even if Jinshi would never ever give the order. This is something Jinshi didn't realize and didn't want to know. Powerful people rarely want to know why people consent to their actions.

But once he knows he wants real enthusiastic consent from Mao Mao. He just has no idea how to get this consent. And he doesn't know yet that Mao Mao feels safer when she's just a tool but he will learn that too, because he values Mao Maos feelings even though he will make a lot and I mean a LOT of mistakes on the way. Some of those mistakes might be dealbreakers for some people. Not me though because i see this through line and I find it important! It's his character arc. One of the reasons Jinshi and Mao Mao get to have the semi equal relationship they have in LN 10 is because Jinshi actively wanted her to be his equal. Mao Mao would have been fine to just follow orders. Gaoshun notes that she is a useful and willing tool. Jinshi makes everything more difficult for himself. But only because he does, there is a chance for a real relationship to bloom.

(SN: This makes him different from Lakan who I really like but let's face it: Lakan doesn't respect Mao Maos wishes at all. Lakan desires Mao Mao as a daughter and wants to take her away. He never even stops to consider that Mao Mao already has a father. He also never considers that she might like the brothel she grew up in. He just wants to be close to her. In one of the later Novels Mao Mao mentions that she can't give him even an inch because he would never let go afterwards. It's this desire she dislikes)

.

#Jinmao #Jinshi my boy #kusuriya no hitorigoto spoilers #kusuriya no hitorigoto #the apothecary diaries #Mao Mao #Lakan

[ggomos-maribat]

7 | in which Marinette gets a new career: making Lex Luthor's life an absolute hell

Part 7 of No Mr. Wayne You Can't Adopt Me! | Masterlist

Sometimes, Bruce gave Marinette additional work that was stipulated nowhere in their contract.

Scratch that, he gave her a lot of work that wasn't part of the contract. Marinette wouldn't complain, obviously, since she was paid extra but occasionally, the additional chores became troublesome.

Nonetheless, there was also extra work that she absolutely enjoyed doing. The type of work that she would've done even if she wasn't compensated. Hell, she'd pay Bruce just to accomplish the task. One such assignment was set for the WE gala.

That night, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was the director, and her boss was the star of the show.

She was clad in a modest dress for the big night: gray, calf-length, minimal accessories, pointed heels. The most important part of her outfit, however, was the earpiece discreetly disguised with her hairpin, which put her in a direct line with Bruce.

She peered through the glass windows of the venue, seeing the gala in its grandeur. Fashionably late. That's what they called it. It worked when one wanted to draw attention, because with nearly everyone already present, a metaphorical spotlight would drop down from the sky.

She pressed a button on her earpiece, tucking her tablet close to her chest. "All ready to go, Mr. Wayne."

And of course, since he was Bruce Wayne, he delivered. Heads turned and skirts swished as he made his splendid entrance, just at the right level of 'fashionably late', Brucie-style. He grinned his shiniest grin and immediately greeted the elite guests of the gala he hosted.

Marinette slipped into the threshold herself. "May I remind you not to act too drunk tonight, you're too old for that and it's just going to look sleazy."

"Of course, Marinette, thank you." He replied just as stealthily. "I trust you'll take care of the rest?" 

Her lip curled upwards. "Oh, I intend to."

She took her position near the grand staircase, halfway blending in with the shadows. That amount of stealth would rival Alfred's or even Cassandra's. She just had to play another face in the crowd, someone barely noteworthy.

Then, she'll enjoy the show from her earpiece.

Target spotted. There was Lex Luthor in all his Mr. Clean glory, hanging out with other guests dressed fancily by the banquet table. At first, Marinette was quite surprised he accepted the invitation to a Wayne gala. But then she thought that Luthor would probably push his pride aside just to keep up appearances.

But it was amusing to see that a few of the people crowded around him left to flock to Bruce Wayne.

Her gaze turned towards her boss. He was dressed a bit differently than his usual gala outfit: a flashy golden suit with black markings on the fabric. They commissioned the design from M.D.C., but lent the production to WE's clothing department. Seeing the suit play its role proved that it truly helped Bruce steal the show.

Marinette waited until Luthor was closer to the table. Then she headed straight to it, swiping a mini fruit tart for herself to cover up the nimbleness of her fingers. Poor clueless Luthor, she thought when she successfully retreated back to the staircase.

The effects didn't take too long to see. As soon as Luthor moved to walk with the person he was chatting with, the tablecloth followed him, and so did the rest of the plates, utensils, bowls, and the gorgeous wine tower. The crash was like music to Marinettte's ears as heads turned and Luthor stared gobsmacked at the mess he'd accidentally caused.

The mess he undeniably caused, since the part of the tablecloth was still pinched between his belt and slacks.

The silence was deliciously deafening.

Until one jovial voice cut through.

"Lexie!" Bruce gently pushed past the group swarming around him. "Are you alright?"

Luthor's mouth opened. And closed again. Opened. Closed. "I didn't—how did . . ."

"My my, have you drunk too much wine?" Bruce's gaze swept over the ruined table which the staff were trying to clean up. "You've got to be a little careful, Lex."

Whispers rampaged within the crowd.

Luthor, seemingly trying to hold onto his composure, forced out a laugh. "That's funny, I barely drank tonight."

Bruce nodded sympathetically. "They say your tolerance does go down with old age. If you're feeling dizzy, you can rest upstairs—"

"No!" Luthor suddenly yelled. But immediately after, he cleared his throat and said in a softer tone, "No, thank you. Bruce. I'm feeling okay. I apologize for the mess I caused; I'll make sure to compensate for everything."

Marinette was nearly proud of the faux but extremely convincing smile that Bruce put on. "Very well. How about I help you get a new suit? It seems that some of the wine has stained yours."

***

Tim wasn't in the gala (he was both extremely sleep-deprived and unwilling to go), so Marinette took the liberty of sharing a video of Luthor's incident to him, which he would probably be sending to the family group chat. She conversed with the young CEO for a while, receiving praises on her skills as she waited for her target to come back.

It didn't take long for Luthor to return, all cleaned up like nothing happened. Although there were considerably fewer people who wanted to be near him. It was funny, to Marinette, how Luthor seemed to avoid the table as well.

Unfortunately for you, that doesn't make you safe. Unbeknownst to the general public, the gala venue was extremely dynamic since it was designed to cater almost any event. There were panels and advanced machinery controlling parts of the area, including the elevated stage that doubled as a gallery for the charity's exhibit.

The one who had guest access to the control was none other than Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

She just had to be patient. Luthor moved around a lot, likely because he didn't want to be caught off guard. He had stepped up onto the stage following an exec who was proud to show the gallery. At the time they came down, Marinette pressed a button on her tablet to make the steps move.

With a smack, Luthor's face met the polished floor.

Dramatic gasps echoed around. Faces of concern, some of indifference, others mocking. Like the hero he was, Bruce rushed to Luthor's side to offer a helping hand.

Luthor looked just about to slap his hand away, but he accepted it with a firm grip instead with an overly forced grin.

"Maybe you should lie down after all, Lexie," Bruce pouted. "You can't even walk straight."

The other man laughed a little too loudly. "No need to make it a big deal. It was just an accident."

Bruce clapped him on the back. "No need to be shy around me, hm? Tell me when you need to get some rest."

Whoa, that blood vessel is ready to pop on his head, Marinette observed when Luthor broke away from Bruce and stalked towards the drinks table near her in irritation. He poured out a drink for himself—

"Lexie, why did you run off? You should stay with me, you might cause another accident!" Bruce cried out.

Luthor whirled around. "That—that's a tempting offer, but I shouldn't trouble you," he said through gritted teeth.

"You look really red. I think you should step away from the wine . . ."

"I barely had a sip!"

Luthor turned back around to pick up his glass but it was gone. Meanwhile, Marinette brought the glass to her lips, savoring the expensive wine. She unintentionally locked eyes with Luthor, who looked like he realized who stole his drink. No one will ever believe you if you try to tell them, Marinette inwardly said. Giving him her most feral smile, she downed the drink in one go.

"That!" Luthor jabbed a finger in her direction. "Bruce! Isn't that your assistant?! She's the one causing trouble for me the whole night!"

"My assistant? Lexie, you must be seeing things! I gave her the night off—why would I need my assistant at a gala?"

At the moment Luthor forced him to look, Marinette had already slipped away somewhere else as if she'd vanished.

***

To other people who didn't know of Bruce's alter ego, it would be a mystery why he never had bodyguards with him. But to those in the know (exempli gratia, Marinette) it made sense, since Bruce had to slip in and out in times of emergencies and can defend himself pretty well. Marinette also had prior knowledge that Bruce sometimes let himself be captured to comply with the act. This kind of situation was one Marinette never wished to witness.

They were heading to a hotel for an investor and partnership meeting. Only Marinette, Bruce and the driver were in the limousine when the vehicle grinded to a halt. Peering towards the driver's seat, Marinette saw that the driver had slumped on top of the wheel.

"What the . . ."

The door was pulled open, and masked men armed with guns started pointing at them and telling them to get down. A couple pulled Bruce out of the limo, throwing him down on the pavement to be restrained.

"A kidnapping!" Airheaded 'Brucie' was on display, almost marveling at the situation they were in. "Haven't had those in a while. Careful now, don't be rough with my assistant."

Marinette stared at her boss in disbelief.

Is he . . . is he serious right now?!

Bruce was barely fighting back. No, he didn't fight back at all. You could've taken them all out and told me to keep quiet! Are we seriously doing this right now?! Are you secretly a masochist? Kwamis, we are going to be late for that meeting!

Marinette shut her mouth as she was also pulled out. The men were about to throw a gagged and bound Bruce into their (totally not suspicious) white van. We can't afford to miss this event, it's important for WE!

First, she disarmed them, kicking and knocking off the guns in their hands. One by one they fought back at her but she broke bones and pulled muscles flawlessly, not letting them land a single hit on her. Finally, she rounded them up in a neat circle with their own ropes and zip ties before dabbing the sweat on her forehead. Some of the men were unconscious, some were just disoriented.

Bruce was gawking at her. "Was that in your resumé?"

Marinette put her hands on her hips. "I didn't think it was relevant for the position. I took martial arts lessons in case . . . you know . . . I needed to kick an akuma's ass back in Paris."

"Oh."

"What were you even thinking, Mr. Wayne?" She glowered. "I know you also had self defense lessons—you could've fought back!"

"But—"

"Don't tell me you did it on purpose!"

Bruce quickly avoided her gaze. "I know how to stall the kidnappers until the vigilantes arrive for rescue."

"So you just sit still and do nothing?" Marinette scolded. "Mr. Wayne, who will sign my paychecks if something happens to you?"

"I'm used to it."

She gave him an unimpressed look. We're going to be late for the meeting anyway. Not to mention I'd have to get him a new suit and send his current one for drycleaning.

"Fine. You pride yourself now as a professional captive?" She smiled humorlessly. "Give me one good reason not to sacrifice you to these kidnappers right now."

"Wait, no—"

Marinette didn't even wait. She ushered her boss into the kidnappers' van and practically skipped towards the astounded masked men to free them. Albeit confused and still disoriented, the kidnappers took Bruce away and Marinette bade them goodbye while waving.

***

Of course, Marinette wasn't going to just leave Bruce like that. She still had her paycheck to worry about after all. After calling an ambulance for the driver, she drove the limousine herself and raced through the streets of Gotham, following Bruce's location through her tablet.

She arrived in a typical warehouse near the docks, as expected from amateur kidnappers. It was getting dark, but she allowed herself to enjoy the sunset for a little while. From her guesses, the rest of the family members would've already been alerted of his situation, so she took her place beside the building's door.

Lo and behold, it was Batman who arrived. Dick-Batman.

"Wait," she said when he passed by her.

. . . And she pretended not to notice him leaping back in shock.

"Huh?" Dick-Batman sputtered out.  "What are you doing here? It's dangerous—"

"Don't rescue him yet."

"What? Why?"

Marinette examined her fingernails casually. "He's enjoying playing damsel in distress right now while learning a very important lesson. Give it around five to ten minutes."

"Uhh, okay?"

Dick-Batman just leaned on the wall beside her in an awkward stance, trying to inconspicuously talk through his comms. 

**

Taglist: @hammalammadamdam @animegirlweeb @fairlyfatale

@agentxx92

#maribat fic #maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #dc x miraculous #NMWYCAM #PA!Marinette

[yukichosodrink]

Duties, Responsibilities.

Pairings: Naoya zenin x reader

Summary: All your life you know you had to be married off, and you don't even know what awaits you when you are married off to the heir of the Zen'in clan, Zenin Naoya.

C/W: virgnity loss, arranged marriage, reader is really innocent, mentions of purity, pregnancy, breeding kink, cream pie

Ever since you were a little girl, you were taught on how to be a good wife. You were told that you had to be obedient to your husband, listen to his every command. Your cursed technique wasn't important to your clan, beside the fact that it would result in great heirs. Women in your clan were taught this way, and most importantly, you had to maintain your purity for your husband.

So, here you are now, wearing a beautiful kimono, hairpins in your scalp, getting married off to the heir of the Zen'in Clan. From what you have heard about him, he's not a nice man. He's misogynist, and you haven't even met him before but both his clan and yours gains greatly from this arranged marriage.

The wedding processions were done, and you were sitting in his, correction, our room. It was a fairly large room, as it should be for the heir, decorated with expensive looking wooden antiques and beautiful sceneries. A king-sized bed was which you were sitting on looking down, anxiously. You couldn't believe it. You were really married, and more anxious about meeting the man that was now your husband.

Your hands folded neatly in your lap, as you look down with cheeks red, waiting anxiously, when you heard the door barge open. He shuts the door behind him and looks at you, grinning widely. He looked you up and down, his grin broadening as he looked. You hated how he looked at you like you were some prize he had recently obtained. His eyes moved over your body.

"My beautiful wife…" He says sarcastically, his grin never fading from his face. He walks over to you, his body language aggressive, and grabs you by the chin, lifting your head up to look into his eyes. "I expect that you will start popping out kids as soon as possible. Our clans need heirs, don't they?"

I frown, not knowing what to say, my cheeks red,"Uh- Can I sleep?" I ask anxiously, trying to change the topic.

Naoyo chuckles to himself. "Of course not. Why do you think you're here?" He smirks, letting go of your chin. "Besides, since we're going to be married, I'm going to take what I deserve. I'm going to take what is mine, and you're going to please me, like a good wife should."

"I-I don't know how to please you." You say, looking down again, you have been prepared your whole life to be a wife, but were you really prepared? All you knew was that you had to obey him.

"You don't know your duties? You don't know how to please a man? Tsk, and here I thought you were going to be a good wife." He said, his breath on your hair, as if he was disappointed, his tone of mockery and condescesion.

"No-No! I will be a good wife to you. Teach me, please." You responded almost immediately, cheeks reddening in embarrassment, you did not want to disappoint your husband now did you?

"Since you asked so nicely." His lips are on your ear now, his hands holding your waist. "Strip and get on all fours."

Your hands undo your kimono, obeying his orders and now you are exactly in the position he wanted you in. Before you knew, he was already bare, his hand stroking up and down your spine and back.

His hand hits your ass cheek and you cry out, feeling embarrassed at the sudden contact. "You got such a nice ass, wife." He says chuckling lowly behind you. He grabs your hair suddenly and pushes you, lips smashing into yours, teeth clashing, forcing his tongue into your mouth, kissing you lustfully, devoid of any passion.

He pulls your hair back, arching your back and he takes your tits in his palms, molding and pulling at them.

"Can't wait for them to be all round and full of milk, mm?" He says as he puts it in his mouth biting and sucking, a lewd moan erupting from your lips. He moves his fingers and put two of them inside of your wet hole.

"Look at you, dripping. How filthy." He mocks, fingers going in and out of your hole and rubbing your clit in fast circles, and it's not even a minute when you're cumming around his fingers, face all red and whines erupting from your lips. He puts his fingers inside your mouth,"taste yourself" and takes out his fingers with a 'pop' sound.

He lines his cock at your hole now, flipping you on all fours now, slamming in without warning as you yelp out his name. He begins to slowly move, he sees the blood on his cock.

"Blood, you know what this means? Means, you are my woman now."

His fingers are in your hair pulling them back, and his thumb protruding the entrance of your ass.

"Bet if I stick one in here, you won't mind? A bitch like you needs all her holes full, right?" He says lewdly, cock dragging in and out.

"Nao-naoya, nngh" I cry out, incapable to form normal sentences.

"Yeah, say my name again. Need to hear who's fucking you this good." He says full on fucking you now. His thumb is in your ass and his hips are slamming against yours, and you wonder how does it feel so good, your vision blurs, seeing stars, wanting more.

"Y-you, only you."

"Yeah, gonna let your husband use your pussy, hm? Gonna let him breed this cunt full of his kids?" He says tongue going inside your ear, fucking you at the same pace.

You clench at his words and he grunts,"Yeah, you like that baby? Want to have my kids inside you?" He groans, picking up his pace.

"Y-yes Naoya! Give me your kids, pl-please." You say and he's gripping your hips tightly now, your vision blurs and you grip the pillow, cumming around his cock, face in the pillow. He continues fucking you, chasing his own high, then cumming inside your pussy.

Your face is inside the pillow, gripping the sheets. He pulls you by your hair, lips at your ear.

"I'm not done with you wife. Need to make sure you're pregnant."

A/N: i wrote this in a hurry!! idk how it was but i hope yall enjoy it i kinda feel naoya isnt in demand but yea.

#naoya zenin #jujutsu kaisen #jjkxreader #jjk naoya #zenin clan #smut #jjk smut #fushiguro toji #jjk #jujutsu gojo #femalereader #maki zenin #naoyazenin #naoyasmut #jjk geto #naoyaxreader #naoyaxreadersmut #zenin naobito #arranged marriage #satoru gojo #geto smut #jujutsu nanami

[bookstantrash]

A/N: okay so it’s been a good while since I’ve posted anything here on tumblr but the last year has been kinda insane as I’m nearing graduation, and my new internship is keeping me very busy.

I have two more one shots written and one half written, but after that I don’t know how long till I’m able to write again and post. Either way, I hope you enjoy this one shot!

But this love is brave and wild

Nesta had not intended to snoop through Cassian’s papers. He was — if she was honest with herself — the most organised out of them. Nesta Archeron being a messy person was something that had come as a surprise to Cassian and he teased her endlessly about it.

“I can find everything I need with no problem,” she had argued once when they were laying in bed, “therefore I am not messy. My organisation method is just different from yours General ‘I Colour Code My Folders’ Archeron”

“Whatever you say Nes,” Cassian had laughed, tightening his arms around her. Her mate, she had discovered, was an incorrigible cuddler “I still love you even if you don’t believe in the practicality of keeping things in one place”

She was always leaving books and hairpins all over the House, discarding her boots after training somewhere and forgetting to take them to their room, her notes about the Valkyries, military and Mind Stilling techniques forgotten and scattered in any surface available. The House was constantly gathering and leaving them on her desk, but it usually took her two to three days until she got the courage to sort and put them away properly.  Cassian’s tidy and neatly arranged papers — sorted by importance and filled with carefully written notes — made his desk a stark contrast to her mountain of spread out ones in her side of the room they had transformed into their study room.

They had learned early on that they would never be capable of doing any actual work in their own room when their bed was only a few steps away.

Not that they had not fucked in each and every surface of the House, their study included. It just made the temptation of being all over each other slightly smaller.

Nesta had entered the study and was tidying her desk after the House had made the bathtub water cold and dumped on top of her towel the papers she had forgotten at the dining table.

“I was going to get them later,” Nesta had said, and in turn the military book Cassian had lent her had fallen on the little floating table she used when she wanted to read in the bathtub. She had been meaning to return it to him for over a week, the book forgotten amid her pile of romance books on her bedside table.

“Fine,” she had added, “I got the memo, I will put them in the study.”

So Nesta had gotten dressed in a bathrobe — she had every intention of going back to a bubble bath as a reward for tidying up her things — reordered her romance book stack, and set off for the study, grabbing any paper she had forgotten along the way. She was putting his book on the shelf when she noticed that Cassian had a few papers outside his drawer, something unusual to him.

“I better at least put the paperweight on top of them,” she thought to herself. She did not want to mess up her mate’s drawers and folders in her attempt to clean his desk.

Cassian had left in a hurry after lunch to Illyria — Emerie, Balthazar and him were trying to transform an old property into an orphanage and residence for those who had no place to go. For now the plans were to see how things would go in Windhaven, and then replicate the same in other camps. Apparently some problems had arisen concerning the renovations and he had left to sort things out. That explained why his space was uncharacteristically ‘messy’ for his standards.

Nesta lined his pens and was stacking the papers in a pile when one in particular caught her eye. Most of them were reports regarding Illyria or the Valkyries training plans, but the small piece of paper full of bullet points and notes scribbled in a hurry was neither.

“Is this a checklist of some sorts?” she mumbled to herself, reading it. If it was, Nesta could not make sense of it, for there were sometimes only a page number and an acronym in the same bullet point — “pg. 43, UTOT” —  or phrases and even single words thrown around that made no sense — “ smell of rain”, “traditional dances”, “unicorns”, “pudding”, “peppermint”, “braids” and so on.

The list intrigued Nesta. Maybe Cassian was playing scattergories or some other game with Azriel or Gwyn again and had forgotten to throw it away. Nesta and Emerie had since long ago given up on playing with them — their competitive streak when combined was insufferable, and both girls had decided they would rather discuss their latest read than go through a discussion if “ice” could be considered a colour or not — but Cassian kept playing. According to him their bickering was amusing to watch despite the chances of him winning being rare.

Nesta wondered if Cassian had other lists somewhere, if together they could help her make sense of what they were exactly. She would have to ask him when he came back — which she hoped happened soon. It was almost time for dinner, and they always had their meals together. When they had an assignment that did not require them to stay more than a day away — Nesta had accepted the position of emissary, although she chose which places she wanted to go and with who she wanted to work with, not to say that it gave her a chance to travel for free —  they always tried to come back in time to share meals together. And Cassian had also promised to bake a cake for her, nevermind they lived in a magical house who could do it itself.

So Nesta returned to her bubble bath, the hot water making her sigh with pleasure. A book appeared on her floating table moments later.

“Is this your way of saying ‘good job’ for organising my things?” she asked the House, which made a peppermint tea appear too.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile, and the faelight near the sink glowed brighter, as if it was saying ‘you’re welcome’.

Nesta ended up staying in the bath until her fingers resembled an old lady’s and she had finished her book. It was now late afternoon and no sight of Cassian. She debated starting another book, but she knew it would make her miss her mate even more. She always pictured him as the love interest in her novels.

“Pull yourself together,” Nesta said to herself “it has been less than a day. It is not like we have to be attached to each other all the time”

Truth to be told, Nesta had become rather clingy when it came to Cassian — not as much as him, she doubted there existed someone as affectionate and tender as her mate — but after their mate and wedding ceremony she found herself more comfortable expressing her feelings. She enjoyed having lazy days where she and Cassian would stay near the fireplace — either reading or just talking — or when Cassian would try and teach her how to cook — she now managed to not burn bread but that was it. He was always touching her — a hand on the small of her back, a brush of his hand against hers when he was passing her food, intertwining their legs when they were laying down, flicking her nose when she got annoyed at him… it seemed impossible for him to keep his hands to himself. And that did not bother Nesta at all. In fact, she loved it, and she had realised that she had denied herself of love and made herself so touch starved for so long that now that she could bask in it she was becoming greedy.

For her utter annoyance, Cassian did not return in time for dinner. Nesta ended up going to Feyre’s house to have dinner, and the sight of Nyx — who had just begun to walk — cheered her up a little, as did the chocolate cookies Elain had baked, although she could not help but think about the chocolate cake she had been promised.

Cassian ended up arriving at the House very late into the night, finding Nesta on their bed buried beneath furs, even with the fire lowly crackling in the hearth.

“Hello Nes,” Cassian greeted his mate the second he stepped inside their room, leaving a kiss on top of her head to not interrupt her reading.

“You are late,” was all she said, turning a page. She had ended up choosing one of his war texts to keep herself busy, but his scrawled notes on the margins of the pages did not help her longing.

“I am sorry sweetheart,” he kneeled on the floor beside their bed, taking her free hand on his and playing with her wedding band “Things at Windhaven took longer to resolve than I had intended and Emerie and Balthazar wanted to go over some new plans”

“What can I do to make you forgive me?” Cassian kissed her fingers, giving her his best puppy eyes.

“For starters you can take a bath,” Nesta wrinkled her nose at the dried mud on his boots “And dry your hair properly, I would rather not have you winning about feeling sick later”

“As you wish, Lady Death. Even if the idea of being bedridden and having you take care of me is very tempting” he said with a wink “I will leave you to your book in the meantime.”

Cassian came back less than ten minutes later, leathers gone in favour of soft cotton pants and no shirt, drying his hair with a towel.

“Bath taken and dirty boots have been put away,” he declared, placing the towel on a chair — the House vanishing it moments later — and grabbing a comb.

He sat beside Nesta on the  bed, not having to say anything, only extending the brush in her direction. It had become natural to care for each other’s hair. Nesta still remembered the day she had asked her mate for help with the pins keeping her braid in place, Cassian almost falling in his rush to get to her. He had tenderly taken each one out, massaging her scalp later and carefully brushing her hair.

And the next time they had taken a bath together he had grabbed the shampoo to wash her hair before she could even move. Nesta had almost fallen asleep in the tub with the way he gently shampooed and rinsed her hair. Cassian had confessed to her one day that he had an unhealthy obsession with her hair.

“Oh I know,” she had said with a small secretive smile “I see how you look at me when I am braiding it”.

She also remembered the first time he had ever seen her with her hair down and had called it beautiful, making her blush furiously. And since he began taking care of it Nesta could swear that it had gotten stronger and shinier.

Considering how silky and shiny his hair was, it did not surprise her at all.

Nesta, it turned out, also had an unhealthy obsession with her mate’s hair.

She enjoyed washing and combing it, be it after a bath or after he had come back from a flight from somewhere. She enjoyed learning new braids to braid his hair, especially now that Emerie was teaching her traditional Illyrian hairstyles. She had gotten interested after she saw his hair for their wedding-mate ceremony.

“The Illyrans take great pride in their rituals,” Emerie had told her during the party after the ceremony “Back when we were constantly at war, many years ago during Enalius time, the wives of the warriors would braid tokens of good luck and protection for their husbands. Those with long hair also asked them to apply that pattern to their hairstyle, and we integrated in our culture the costume of different braid patterns depending on the occasion: wars, festivals and ceremonies such as burials and weddings”

“The hairstyle Cassian has now is the common braid style used at wedding ceremonies at Windhaven” Emerie had given her a soft smile “Cassian has no living female relatives, so he asked me to do it for him. I’ve never seen him sit so still for so long”

“Could you teach me?” Nesta had asked, feeling shy all of a sudden “I would like to learn them all so I can braid his hair… and our children’s when the time comes.”

“Of course,” her friend had said, and now whenever they had time Emerie would teach her.

Nesta slowly unknotted Cassian’s hair, and by the way he sighed she knew it would not take long for him to fall asleep.

“All done,” she declared, placing the comb near her book on the bedside table.

“Thank you, Nes” he said, slipping under the furs. He intertwined their legs, hugging her close to himself and burying his face on her neck.

Nesta sighed, instantly feeling warmer. Cassian was like a walking furnace, and even without a shirt he was way warmer than her.

“Am I forgiven now, xe nhia?” he asked, nuzzling her neck “I have bathed, dried my hair and am now fulfilling my duties as your personal Illyrian heater.”

“Perhaps.” she ran her fingers over his arm wrapped around her “You do own me a cake, which I was looking very forward to”

“What if I also made you pudding,” he began trailing kisses over her shoulder “would you like that xe r-endy?”

The terms of endearment in Illyrian made her feel so warm and giddy that Nesta almost let slide one word Cassian had said: pudding.

It was one of the words written on that piece of paper, and now she had the perfect opportunity to ask about it.

“Funny of you to ask me about pudding,” she began nonchalantly “I read something about it today”

“You did?” she could hear the surprise in his voice “Please tell me you were not attempting to cook, we all know how it went last time”

“I set fire to the kitchen one time and you never let it go,” she ruffed with annoyance “No, I did not attempt to cook. But I did find a rather interesting and confusing list with the word pudding on it.”

“What,” Cassian raised his head from her shoulder, and Nesta turned around on his arms to look at him.

“I was tidying up my things when I noticed your desk was uncharacteristically messy. I had only planned to put a paper weight on your papers to hold them down but I ended up reading your list,”

“I am sorry if I did not respect your privacy,” Nesta added in a rush, afraid Cassian might get angry “I did not mean to pry but my curiosity got the better of me and I ended up reading it.”

“I am not mad xe nhia,” Cassian said with a soft smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear “You are free to read any and all papers I have. I have nothing to hide, especially from my mate.”

“I am just embarrassed. That is all” he added, and she could see a faint blush dusting his light brown skin.

“Why would you be embarrassed?” she asked, furrowing her brows.

“Because,” he took a deep breath “that was one of the lists I made of topics I wanted to talk with you about. Ever since I met you back when you were human and I used to collect the queen’s letters from you, ever since then I would think of fake conversations and scenarios, building entire conversations inside my head so I could impress you with my comebacks.”

“So that time you stayed circling the house for ten minutes…” she inquired.

“I was compiling a list of chosen insults to throw your way, responses to an invented argument” he groaned, hiding his face on her shoulder “Like a complete fool.”

“You did this back when I was human?” Nesta asked, her love for her big kind hearted mate growing impossibly bigger.

“I never stopped, which might make me even a bigger fool than I was back then,” he admitted, face still hidden “Even after that, when you were Made and I used the excuse of exercising my wings to come and see you, and being together with you felt both so close yet so far given the circumstances”

“Cassian…”

“And even later, when we started living at the House and you were going through so much, trying to get better… I kept coming up with them. Topics I wanted to discuss with you, when we were together but not together. When it was just sex, and I was willing to take whatever you gave me because a little of your time, a little of you, was infinitely better than nothing at all.”

“Conversations we could have had, that I wanted us to have. Issues that I wanted to get your opinion on, if only I was not such a coward. It was always so difficult— I was so scared of ruining whatever I had managed to build with you, of losing you forever” he sighed, finally raising his head “I kept all of them. All of the lists. And I keep finding new things I want to talk with you about and since we got together it seems the list never stops growing. As if I am making up for the time lost, because now we do have that time”

Nesta did not know what to say in answer to that. Sometimes, when she had a bad day and felt like the old bitter and angry Nesta — the one who drowned her problems in alcohol and refused to let herself feel anything good at all — she had to remind herself that she was deserving of the love she had now. That she was deserving of her sisters — the old and the new ones — and of her friends and family.

That she was deserving of such a good male like Cassian. Her mate, her husband, her friend and her family.

“You can laugh if you want,” Cassian said, sounding a bit nervous about her reaction “Cauldron knows I must sound like a madman creating make believe arguments” 

“Why would I laugh when my mate loves me so much that he cannot help but think of me literally every single moment?” Nesta arched an eyebrow, letting all of her love and adoration for him shine through their bond.

“What you just said is book love interest level, Cassian” she kissed him, burying her hands in his hair “I would be a fool to laugh.”

Nesta could see the relief in his eyes and she smiled. “You can ask me anything you want to know, anytime. Especially if it means you will cook more sweets for me, xe porang termireco”

Cassian groaned, rolling them so his weight pressed her down deliciously.

“You will be the death of me, Lady Death” he whispered, nipping at her ear.

“I thought you were tired from your flight” she breathed as he started kissing her neck.

“You know what you speaking Illyrian does to me,” he argued, “especially when you call me your handsome husband ”

And Nesta made sure to call him plenty of things in Illyrian in the next hours, both of them falling asleep only when the sun was rising.

•

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[Reblogs/likes/comments are always welcomed!!]

#nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian #acosf #a court of silver flames #post acosf #sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm fanfic

[lostmyremembrall]

📖𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝐴 𝐻𝑖𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑇𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑐 𝐼𝑛𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝐽𝑜𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 1𝐾 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡! Now closed

It was neatly placed on your pillow, silently staring up at you as if it’s always belonged there.

You sighed, knowing where it came from. How he managed to sneak into the girl’s dormitory, you had no clue.

You let your exhausted body sink into the edge of the bed before taking the neatly wrapped box, sensing the placement of the gift by its owner was intentional, blatantly claiming a spot on your most private space as its own.

“Merlin, not again!”

The exasperated voice of your roommate, Imelda, rang from across the room, catching sight of the silver ribbon that slowly fell to the floor.

“This man needs a hobby,” Imelda fumes. "...some nerve sneaking into a girl's dormitory."

“Mm-hmm,” you let out a heavy sigh. She was right.

The number of times this man forwarded you gift after gift with no explanation. The number of hours you and Imelda dedicated to discussing who this could be. 

The first one, you found in your Transfiguration textbook. The book naturally parted to reveal an ornate bookmark– goblin-made, with intricate golden lines of a man holding the woman’s face to plant a kiss. It was a famous painting, that much you knew. You wondered at first, whether you had mistaken someone else’s book for yours. But as you turned to the back of the cover, your name, printed neatly in your handwriting. It was a gift from someone, you decided in the end. Someone with extremely adept fingers from the looks of it. Enough to steal your book and return it to your satchel unnoticed.

The second one, was revealed at the bottom of the cauldron at the end of the Potion – as you were cleaning out your potion. It was a wonder how they managed to sneak it in without you noticing. It glimmered against the black cast iron: a brooch of a phoenix, mid-flight through the clouds. Whoever this was, he had a proclivity for a dramatic display of his spellcasting as well, it seemed.

Ruby earrings, silver hairpins, rare, expensive books; and so on, the gifts kept coming from this mysterious, bold, yet shy person. After the third gift, you and Imelda concluded this person had developed a massive crush on you. With a penchant for green and silver wrapping – perhaps an overt expression of his loyalty to his house–, the image of a dashing Slytherin man had also settled in both of your minds.

“I bet he’s rich.”

You nodded without raising your head from the box you now held. Ignoring the sender’s image that was progressively beginning to resemble a flamboyant peacock, you studied the gift wrapping. Now more curious about the sender than the gift, you had grown a habit of searching the wrapping for hints instead of its content.

“Just going to say, you could have the decency of sharing.”

You raised your eyes to meet the playful smirk on Imelda, who was on her stomach, scratching her head before an unfinished essay for Runes. The gift, however, seemed to have called for an impromptu break from the work.

“What?” she raised a challenging brow. “You’re going to get more, anyway.”

She jests, but you did not miss the hungry glimmer in the depth of her eyes. “Your greed’s showing, Imelda,” you shook your head, trying and failing to suppress a grin.

“Nothing wrong with that,” she jabs her nose slightly up in the air. “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, after all.”

“I am your best friend, Imelda!”

“Ha! You would be, if you get me a diamond.”

“What is it this time,” Imelda now jabs her chin towards the small box, the essay now tossed to the floor. "He better get you a diamond or two."

“I think you may have skipped a few important steps, Imelda-” Trying to hide the growing blush on your cheeks, you open the box. But, you couldn’t help but swallow your words at the brilliance that greeted you upon opening the lid.

Inside the small box was a beautiful ring, topped with large, transparent jewellery that seemed to light up the whole room.

Imelda was quick to leave the bed at the shock that graced your features. 

"Ha! Guess he does know what a girl wants!"

Imelda bursts into laughter, but even her jest fell short of your ears. The diamond that demanded your attention looked too close to a wedding ring. In fact, you were certain it was.

The wedding ring from a man with no name. Seemingly too heavy for you to bear, the ring was quietly put away into the closet without ever being put on.

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

You clutched the letter in your right hand that arrived first thing in the morning, feeling a sense of hammering in your ribcage at the idea of finally meeting this… peacock. This man who had the audacity to sneak into the girl’s dormitory. To gift you a wedding ring.

You just had to see what this man was made out of.

In your left pocket, the wedding ring to be returned right back at his face.

A victorious smirk etched into your lips, your pace quickened to the Slytherin common room. So, they were right. You thought back to Imelda’s longing face at the breakfast table, barely keeping herself seated from following you to see the man herself. The curiosity was killing her, but Imelda would be pleased to know she was right.

Slytherin and affluent. Your mind wandered to the list of men that fit the description. Perhaps he was a Malfoy, a Black… or even a Lestrange.

Despite your eagerness to find the sender of the owl, you managed to find enough composure to fix your uniform before whispering the password. You descended the stairs, the underground air and the waterfall mist cooling you. With everyone rushing to breakfast at the Great Hall, it was going to be simple enough to spot a single person.

You hopped down the last step and looked around the common room to find the room… empty.

Flabbergasted, you blinked a few times. You reread the instruction to meet in the common room: perfectly legible handwriting that indicates the windows looking into the Great Lake.

Still, there was not a hint of life in the common room save for the stunted expressions of the statues of noble women and men past. You huffed and settled on the chaise longue looking over the kelp and seaweeds.

The longer you waited, the tapping of your feet against the stone floor slowed, and your fingers ceded playing with your hair. 

He had the audacity to boast about his aptitude for magic. For a man who dared not show his face, he demanded praise. Silently screaming for your attention from wherever he hid. A bookmark in a textbook. A brooch left inconspicuously in a cauldron. Then, a ring on a pillow. Every gift must have been carefully planned to progressively shorten the distance to you and test your reaction. To have your imaginations running wild picturing a brilliant, affluent prince with an excellent taste for elegance. After all those gifts, he was not just going to pass on the opportunity to claim those titles for himself.

Still, the time still ticked away, and a quick glance at the watch indicated 10 minutes past the promised time. You heaved a heavy sigh, knowing that as much as you were curious to meet the person, this man was going to get you late for Charms.

You were about to leap up to your feet, when you suddenly felt a presence on your left. You froze, feeling his heat radiating against your cheek from the sudden proximity.

“You weren’t going to leave before our date even began, were you?”

The velvety voice. The teasing tone that always tried to contain a smirk. You knew that voice.

“T–, Tom?!” you jumped, swerving your neck to face the last man you expected to see at this moment.

There he was. Your oldest friend, his sharp eyes studying the curvature of your face, reading your every thought and emotion. His jet-black hair contrasting the pale features that almost seemed sickly in the aquamarine lighting of the common room. His chin resting on his arms, as they crossed on top of the back of your chair. 

“You seem surprised.”

Greeted by a charming tilt of his head, any trace of your reminder to return the ring was erased from the mind.

“But–, but,” unable to form a string of words, your eyes blinked rapidly. Tom Riddle, someone you’d known since the first day of class. Someone you didn’t know was ‘capable of having a crush.’ 

In the midst of confusion, any embarrassment or excitement that you may have felt from the close proximity had vanished completely. The next words that fell out of your flabbergasted lips were a declaration more so than a question.

“But–, you don’t like me.”

As you shook your head in disbelief, you saw the confusion in the droop of his brows, his lips still curved in that quiet self-conviction.

“Of course I do,” Tom murmured as if it was the simplest –and the only– truth he’s ever known in this vast world of unsolved mysteries.

“I’ve always liked you.”

The phrase was said with such ease as if he’s told you a hundred times over. 

You were still shaking your head at the impossibility of the situation that presented itself. “So, every one of those gifts. They were from you?”

Tom’s lid slowly shut with a single nod, his long lashes casting a shadow over his sunken eyes.

Your eyes darted back and forth, thinking back to that presumptuous peacock you’d been picturing in place of where Tom’s smile was. It made no sense… but the boastful nature, the Slytherin house pride, the aptitude of spellcasting… It all clicked together.

Except…

“How did you afford all of this?”

Tom’s air of nonchalance faltered for a moment, his eyes widening just briefly at the seemingly irrelevant question.

But, he was quick to regain his composure. “I’ll do anything for the love of my life,” his right hand bounced once before languidly dangling off of the back of the couch once more.

Love. Ignoring the heavy word that he so carelessly tossed into their conversation, you pressed on.

In the end, he relented with a sigh. His eyes narrowed into slits and soon, Tom was smiling before you, waving his two fingers in the air, the diamond ring nimbly held in between the sides of his fingers.

A shadow cast over your eyes as you couldn’t bring yourself to join in his exulting triumph.

“... you stole them?”

Your voice was solemn, afflicted by the bile that was brewing and spilling over in the pit of your stomach at the idea. You almost wished you hadn’t asked.

Tom noted the change in your tone, for once, his grin dropping to reveal a defensive wall. “What difference does it make?” his voice bounced off of the stone walls. “My feeling is true for you.”

Tom continued, eager to stop you from staring at him with those morose eyes. “And who’s to blame an underprivileged, penniless man, hopelessly in love?”

You parted your lips, only to bite down on your lips at the sight of him beaming up at you. You’ve never quite seen him like this. His dilated eyes shimmered with so much hope, so much longing as they followed every line that shaped your face. You swallowed your words. Passion. Infatuation. Affection. Whatever it was that Tom felt for you, it was ‘true’ for him. 

“You don’t have to give me anything, Tom.”

You managed to string out the words, defeated, knowing that once Tom had made up his mind, there was no stopping him.

“Nonsense,” Tom grinned, relieved that you’ve been seemingly persuaded. “My love deserves only the best.”

“I–,” you tried to quell the shaking in your voice, thinking back to the countless exorbitant gifts you’d received in just this past month. “I don’t want it.”

Tom furrowed, visibly hurt by your rejection. “Very well,” he studied the ring still held in between his fingers before tucking it into his pocket. “I’ll save it for when it really matters.”

He proceeded to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ears, unflinching under your remorseful scrutiny and still returning that enigmatic smile. You couldn’t stop him; a sigh only escaping your lips at the almost juvenile concept of love he seemed to hold.

“I almost forgot.”

You watched wearily as he began to fish something out of his inner pocket. “You’re going to get me late for Charms.”

“Oh, I assure you,” his eyes glimmering in excitement. “I am well worth getting late to Charms.”

A gasp escaped your lips when you caught sight of the most ravishing necklace that appeared before you. Your astonished eyes only followed his hands as he wrapped it around your neck and clasped the chain behind you. Though distorted, you were able to catch your reflection in the glass pane before you. The most opulent emeralds gleamed in the dim lighting of the common room. Even through your uniform, you felt the cool touch of the five large emeralds that were clearly too incongruous and unfit for a student.

“Only the best for my love.”

You felt his arms wrap tightly around you before his cheek nuzzled against yours, and your eyes shifted to find Tom’s ghostly features reflected next to you, entranced by the sight of you.

The necklace was heavy on your neck. Reflecting in the deep green of the glass, you witnessed a coward in your sombre eyes. Too pessimistic and persuadable to stop Tom.

In his misguided understanding, Tom added, perhaps in his attempt to compromise, or quell your anxiety. “I will repay them. Eventually.” His velvety voice reverberated against your skin, spine and skull as if he was speaking directly from inside you. “When I have enough.”

A man who chose to serenade you through possession.

You wondered, whether enough would ever come to this man.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you for requesting this anon. And as always, I am so sorry it took so long to get to yours! Things have been very busy, but I sincerely enjoyed writing this.

The bookmark is Klimt's famous painting, The Kiss (1908) I'm surprised by the slightly dark turn this story took. But, I hope you noticed the double meaning of 'possession' in the 2nd to last sentence! Possession as in objects, specifically stolen ones. And possession as in Tom taking possession of the reader by claiming their space/boundary little by little (and the collar-like necklace in the end).

#harry potter #tom riddle #tom riddle jr #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fanfiction #tmr #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x you #tom riddle headcanon #tom riddle headcanons #tom riddle fic #tom riddle x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #tom riddle au #tom riddle fluff #1k celebration #1k milestone #1k followers #1K follower event #1k event #1k follower celebration

[cherry-froggie]

will you be my valentine today?~ [headcanons]

summary — Headcanons for how some Genshin characters will spend the special day with their loved one

characters — xiao, zhongli, ayato, thoma

notes - welcome to one of those days of the year when everyone else writes about the same topic, today we will keep the trend; this is my entry to the "happy valentine's day" writing event from the @yae-publishing-house!

MASTERLIST || REQUESTS

XIAO

"A day dedicated to grating your lover with gifts and affection? Is there something special about this day that sets it apart from others?"

All Xiao ever wanted was to simply spend time in your company, free from worries or concerns, and without any distractions or interruptions that could pull you apart. He imagined the perfect Valentine's Day as not much more than a calm and serene occasion, one spent solely with his other half.

A dream that he was fully intent on achieving.

If you ever gifted him with something physical, be it a helpful tool or a small token representative of your love, he would gladly accept it before looking deeply into the windows of your soul with his eyes of vibrant amber. He would hold onto the gifted object and your hand with the most delicate touch. As the two of you exchanged kind and loving looks with one another, he was the happiest.

With a gentle whisper and the evening sun illuminating the inn, he confessed, "I only need you, not these possessions. They mean nothing to me without you by my side." He spoke with a calm smile, a hint of affection and love shimmering within his eyes. As such, he did not expect you to give him anything, not preparing a present in advance.

Do not mistake him not being the most familiar with diverse human practices as a sign that he does not care for or love you as much as you do for him; he was simply naive of the significance of the day as he only came to know about it through Verr Goldet that same morning. But rest assured that he will never forget this day ever again.

However, if you prefer a physical gift, he would take the time to teach you the intricate and delicate art of how to make a butterfly out of nothing but ordinary and simple leaves or offer the rare opportunity to walk around Liyue's vibrant and beautiful fields until he found a flower that he deemed worthy of your beauty, which he would then proudly place on your hair.

Creating something together brought a smile across his lips as he felt his heart swell with joy.

To Xiao, love was all about the memories and moments that formed between you.

ZHONGLI

"It's a day to celebrate the love in our lives and to show appreciation for the special people in it, a reminder that love is a beautiful and powerful thing, and it's important to hold on to it."

Zhongli envisioned the perfect Valentine's Day to be a day filled with leisure and relaxation. He pictured himself walking down the city's beautiful walkways while holding hands with you and talking about everything that made him smile and laugh, taking in the sights and sounds of the many stores and vendors that passed you by. The mere thought of you brought a sense of joy to his heart, and he was almost lost in thought, so much so that his mind was empty and quiet.

You would then stop off at the Wanmin restaurant, and a most delicious, mouthwatering meal awaited the two of you, accompanied by the stories the storyteller had to offer.

You would sit down, relax and slowly enjoy the food you ordered, savoring every bite you took. The peaceful atmosphere served as the perfect backdrop for a romantic conversation, one that would allow the two of you to talk about your days and reflect on the beauty of the day in a moment of affection.

As a token of his love for you, he would gift you a beautiful jade hairpin, a symbol of his devotion, a small and delicate gesture to be nothing more than a sweet surprise, one that would allow him to look on with contentment as you wore the jade hairpin with pride.

The beautifully deep and rich jade hairpin, intricately crafted, would have swirling designs that spiraled around it. It would shine in the light like morning dew, representing not just his fondness but his respect and admiration for the beauty and grace that you possessed.

It would be a rare and cherished keepsake, treasured for many years. Indeed, for a lifetime.

Zhongli is a man with both distinct and unique tastes, a person who could identify and even pinpoint things with nothing but the slightest and most faint touch.

He would not expect anything more than a good conversation and the mere act of enjoying one another's company. He was content with simply existing and coexisting with you, no matter the occasion.

If you were to gift him with something, whatever it may be, then he would be overjoyed, grateful to be in the presence of such a wonderful person and lifetime companion.

AYATO

"Love is a precious and important aspect of life. Although I find it a bit excessive to have a specific day dedicated to expressing love, the most important thing is that love is cherished and appreciated, no matter how it is done."

Valentine's Day was of great importance for Ayato since it was a perfect time to celebrate and share the love of his life while escaping from all the duties as he could focus solely on his relationship. His perfect day would be filled with happiness, laughter, and love; one filled with joy and contentment that he would never forget. He wished for this to be a time when he and you could finally connect more intimately.

Ayato would love to spend quality time with you and was nothing but excited for the experience ahead. The two of you would walk across the city's streets as he would feel himself growing in anticipation for your future together.

You stopped at various sites and landmarks, admiring the magnificence of the nature-made wonders that had been erected on the ground you were standing on. The city of Inazuma was a visual marvel to behold; one that many tourists and photographers alike flocked to just to see its natural beauty and unique landscapes.

As he stood before you, the sun's rays burst forth from behind him, illuminating his figure and highlighting his stunning beauty. With each passing moment, his silhouette grew stronger and more radiant, casting an inviting glow that seemed to envelop you in its comforting embrace. Despite the sheer majesty of his presence, there was an understated elegance to his every move, a humble grace. He stood tall and proud, with a confidence that could only be born from knowing that he was truly loved and appreciated. And as you gazed upon him, basking in the radiance of his light, you knew deep in your heart that this was the moment you would always treasure. "My dearest," he began, his voice rich and tranquil, "As we stand here, I am reminded of the many wonders and beauties of this world. And yet, you outshine them all."

You would savor the taste of joy and delight at the moment together, even when the time seemed to slow to a crawl.

Your day would be nothing but joy, and you could find yourselves in an endless state of tranquility and pleasure in one another's presence. There was no rush; you could spend day and night together if it so pleased you. It was all about loving and appreciating each other's presence in whatever way you could.

Ayato was more than grateful for the opportunity to experience such an event with someone as gracious and loving as you. He knew the memories you would make would last forever. Indeed, one thing that Ayato had always loved about you was your natural ability to make him smile so effortlessly.

He contemplated for a while what he would desire from you during this day and found that one gift that would win him over was a delicious cup of milk tea medley especially prepared by you. Such a simple and thoughtful gift would touch his heart.

To him, a gift that would be enough to bring a smile to your face was a bouquet. Nothing too grand or fancy, he just wished for a simple and considerate present; one that would be all he needed to show his deep admiration and devotion.

As the day would finally come to a close, you would sit down and partake in a delicious meal that had been lovingly and carefully prepared by Thoma's hands. He would decorate the room with candles, flowers, and an assortment of exquisite tableware so the setting would be perfect for such a special occasion. He would design the perfect meal with the utmost care, combining elegant cuisine with a gorgeous presentation. The entire scene would create an intimacy and warmth that only you could experience together, leading Ayato to feel a deep sense of overwhelming gratitude and love for you.

You would talk, laugh, and enjoy each other's company over a delicious home-cooked meal, and Ayato would think back to all the times he had felt complete and satisfied while in the presence of his beloved.

THOMA

"For me, it's all about making those special to you feel valued and appreciated through small gestures with meaning behind them that touch the heart and warm it up."

Thoma was always a hopeless romantic. He was planning something big to show his love and affection for you.

One surprise he had planned was to take the entire day off from his usual daily activities to spend some time with the one he loved most. He wanted to dedicate the day to you, his much-deserved partner, and he planned to create many new and wonderful memories together.

Thoma's lovely and secret home for the local dogs and kitties is a fascinating site, and he was more than willing to show off his little slice of paradise to you. The cute kittens and the adorable pups were simply the perfect addition to the already heavenly scenery, and Thoma knew that this secret hiding spot was one he could never keep hidden from you.

You would take in the pleasing scenery around you, taking the time to appreciate the stunning natural beauty of it all and the endearing nature of the many animals that inhabited the area. The perfect blend of joy and excitement, combined with the breathtaking nature of the surrounding areas, would bring forth an unforgettable experience and a precious memory to hold onto forever.

As you walked through the countryside hand in hand, you would find yourselves in utter awe and bewilderment at the scenic Inazuman landscape. You would feel the serene breeze brush against your faces and marvel at the lush and lively green grass all around you. You would delightfully take in the fresh country air and the calming peace that awaited you. Thoma would point out the various creatures that populated and dominated the surrounding nature. You would discuss your aspirations and ideals, visions of the future, and hopes for the time ahead.

As the sun would set, Thoma would surprise you with a delicious and romantic dinner, beautifully decorated and lovingly prepared.

You knew he enjoyed escaping into the pages of a good book and finding himself lost in the world of fantasy and imagination that awaited him at the turn of every page. What better gift to give him on such a day than the new works from the Yae Publishing House?

No matter the book, he would find himself deeply invested in the plot and story, no matter how fantastical or unrealistic it may be. He would spend an entire afternoon, or even the full day, just being lost in his imagination as he read and immersed himself in a different world, a world that only existed between two covers, a world gifted from you.

His strength is as grand and unshakable as his faith in love; however, the inside of his heart is as soft and vulnerable as a small kitten. Any loving words directed toward him with such great affection will bring out a side with pleasure and tenderness. Such a proclamation may also be a little overwhelming and surprising, so he might not be able to muster up the courage to say anything in response immediately, but he will be sure to say anything to make you even redder than him.

proof read? no aaaaaaaaa im too tired im sorry i canNOT

and as you read this you think to yourself "another one? where is the epilogue for the forgotten puppet, that kaeya fic promised more than a month ago, the second part of the jealousy headcanons, the 100-follower special fanfic?" LIKE YES I KNOW I KNOW IM SORRY IM TOO MUCH OF A PERFECTIONIST I TAKE LIKE 1 OR 2 DAYS DEDICATED TO WRITE A FULL FIC

"xiao's part is now short" to contrast his height, xiao is the tallest character in the hit game genshin impact I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW I MADE THOMAS PART SO LONG (like xiao)

i'm sorry i AHAHA i need to regain my mental stability THANK YOU EVERYONE SPEND THE DAY IMPACTING GENSHIN CHARACTER'S LOVE LIVES

#yaepublishinghouse #genshin fluff #genshin xiao x reader #xiao x y/n #xiao x reader #xiao x you #genshin xiao #zhongli x you #zhongli x y/n #genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato #ayato #thoma x reader #thoma #thoma x you #thoma x y/n #genshin headcanons #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact #genshin x you #genshin impact headcanons #fluff #xiao fluff #zhongli fluff #ayato fluff

[saintrocklee]

*:･ﾟ✧ RESTRAINT ╰┈➤ part 02 of 05

masterlist | pairing: itachi x reader publish date: 04.04.24 warnings: itachi continues to be annoying. reader goes through the 5 stages of realizing you love your boss. there's alcohol and glitter.

The rest of the work week flew by and before you know it you're staring at yourself in your full length mirror, nerves buzzing just below your skin. You're one misstep away from a nervous breakdown and clack the front of your freshly done nails together, the clicking sound distracting you from your spinning thoughts.

It was currently seven o’clock and you had an hour to finish getting ready before a driver would come get you. Between now and when Itachi had invited (but also sort of demanded) you accompany him you had found a dress, matching shoes, borrowed a small purse from your friend, and even got your nails and toes done.

Now you're left with your hair and jewelry.

Events like these always took way longer to get ready for.

If you're being entirely truthful, you liked getting dressed up. Like really dressed up. You rarely had an excuse to go all out like this and it always made you feel pretty. Girly. Confident, even.

But the anxiety buzzing through your system were killing your vibe.

You hadn't even been that nervous until your backstabbing best friend cheekily said “Wow, an entire night on Itachi’s arm - as his date. That’s different.” when you stopped by yesterday to borrow her purse. It clicked, right then and there, that this was different. You'd gone through the steps of convincing yourself this was just another work event, only to have the proverbial rug ripped out from under you.

You were going to a gala, one of the most socially relevant parties of the year, with your boss. You were going to this extremely extravagant and public event not as his assistant or colleague ... but with him.

This wasn’t work. This wasn’t a meeting or a conference. This was a social event. Where socializing took place. Where people - important, powerful, famous people - would see you. With Itachi.

As his date.

Your chest begins to burn and you idly wonder if having a heart attack would be a good enough reason to cancel.

Knowing Itachi it wouldn't be.

Okay, focus. Hair and jewelry. Retouch makeup if needed. Another swipe of deodorant and a spritz of perfume. Then, if there's time, unrestrained panic.

It takes you a good thirty minutes to decide to wear your hair up and style it, to prevent you from fiddling with it all night. You idly picked through an assortment of hair pins, wanting something to make your look really pop. Your dress was simple but elegant and if you were going to show up with the Itachi Uchiha you needed to look the part. The plunging neckline surprisingly offered you support while showing off your cleavage behind sheer fabric. Your back was completely bare, the straps on your shoulders thin, and the slit ran high; but was covered by more sheer fabric. It was light, easy to move in, and one of your favorites. You choose a sparkling hairpin and add it to your up-do, twisting your head back and forth to get the full effect.

You just needed jewelry.

The low vibration from your phone distracts you and you smile when you see who's calling. You answer the Facetime request and your smile broadens when your best friend immediately begins squealing.

“Oh my god, shut up! You look so good.”

You snort and wave her off as you position your phone on your dresser to free up your hands. She continues talking and you think you hear glass clinking in the background.

“When’s boss man picking you up? Is he even going to be able to function around you? Like, I'm engaged and honestly, I'll leave him for you right here and now. Just say the word.”

The laugh that escapes you is warm and the anxiety you were feeling earlier begins to fade.

“Tell your fiance if he makes one wrong move I’ll say the word and steal you back. And he’s not picking me up, he’s sending a driver. I've got, like, thirty minutes."

Your friend makes a noise and you can see the wine glass in her hand as she moves to sit on her couch.

“Well, I just wanted to call before you left so I could see the final product. I love your hair, is that the hairpin I got you?”

You nod and spin, showing off the back of your head, giggling when you hear her audibly whistle.

“Babe, you look even better from the back! If Itachi doesn’t make a move, go find some other rich CEO to marry so you can pay for my wedding.”

You give your friend an unimpressed look and decide not to respond, instead holding up two different pairs of earrings.

“Shut up and help me. Which ones?”

After five minutes of going back and forth you find yourself wearing two different pairs of earrings; your friend sighing and nibbling her lips as her eyes flicked back and forth.

“Damn, they’re both so good. Let’s find a necklace and then come back.”

Soon, you’ve picked a necklace, a simple bracelet, and even added some more glitter to your eyes to make them shine. Still, neither of you could decide on which earrings. You move on to your deodorant and double check you have everything in your purse while she updated you on a frustrating new hire at her company. It felt like old times, back before you worked for Itachi and before she had met her now fiance, when it was just the two of you struggling against the world.

“Okay, okay, let’s focus up. You do a shot yet?”

You scrunch your face up at the old memory and snort. Back when you and your best friend lived together you would always take one shot of whatever alcohol you had on hand before going to any kind of social event that made you both nervous. A house party, birthday, forced family outing; it didn't matter. It was a way to take the edge off, without “being trashy” as she so eloquently put it. The tradition was rooted deep, even with you both living apart, and you can't help but smile.

“No. I don’t drink when I’m working.”

The gasp that meets your ears is loud, pained, and dramatic. You're surprised your cell speaker still functions once she's done wailing.

“Uh-uh! This isn’t work, this is a date. At a fancy gala. With fancy people. And your hot as shit boss.”

You try and prove your indifference with a shrug but even through the phone she wasn't having it.

“We’ve still got fifteen minutes, take me to your kitchen woman! I’ll do one with you, in solidarity.”

You reward her with a laugh and pick your phone up, obeying her very demanding request. You place her on your countertop near your stove and shake your head when you see her doing the same, frantically searching her own kitchen for alcohol.

“Okay okay, let’s see. I've got some questionable tequila and some very fancy vodka, which is more the mood we're going for. What about you?”

You hum and peek in your fridge, mildly surprised you still have some raspberry flavored vodka left over from weeks ago.

“I’ve got vodka too, but I wouldn't call it fancy.”

There’s loud cheering coming from your phone’s speaker and you roll your eyes, grabbing a shot glass from the top of your fridge. You fill it easily and hold it up to your camera, smiling when you see your friend do the same.

“Alright! Cheers to you, your hot ass, and Itachi removing that stick from his hot ass. On three!"

You count down and throw back the sweet smelling alcohol, immediately crinkling your nose at the burn in your throat. You hear audible gagging and chuckle as you watch your friend frantically search her kitchen for a chaser.

“Jesus Christ, this shit sucks. I hate my fiance, let’s kick him out and you can move in again. Then we can get rid of all this nasty shit in my fridge.”

Your laugh turns into a fond smile and you open your mouth to retort when there’s a knock at your door. Frowning slightly at the intrusion, you turn and eye the clock on your wall.

Seven fifty. You had ten more minutes to prepare for Itachi’s driver and someone was knocking at your door.

Great.

“Gotta go lover, some jackass is banging on my door. I’ll text you later!”

“What!? Let me see! Push me against the peep hole so I can tell them to fuck off!”

You snort and shake your head, waving goodbye before disconnecting the video. If your friend had it her way, you’d keep her on the line all night, hiding her in your purse and whipping her out to gossip about everyone around you.

You move toward your door, dropping your phone on your couch, and go to unlock it without checking your peephole. It was more than likely your neighbor, who sometimes got confused in his old age about what apartment he was at. You open the door with fervor and blink stupidly at who you see standing in the hallway.

Okay.

Definitely not your neighbor.

Itachi finds himself in your hallway, attention directed towards adjusting his cuff links, and glances up at the sound of your door opening. Years of practice and etiquette training have him schooling his features to not betray the absolute turmoil he feels from seeing you.

You were an absolute vision.

You had outdone yourself and Itachi forces himself to memorize this moment in it's entirety. Your eyes shone beneath simple makeup and glitter, your hair twisted and styled beautifully in an up-do that left your neck bare. The wide eyed surprise on your face only adds to your allure and Itachi finds himself struggling to control the way his pulse quickens. The dress you're wearing is either new or had been hiding in your closet somewhere and he fights to keep his eyes on your face. From what he can see, the sheer fabric that hugs your body leaves little to the imagination, and something warm begins to burn through him.

Curling his mouth into a friendly smile, Itachi goes to speak to break the charged silence between you two, but you cut him off breathlessly - eyes narrowing.

“You’re early.”

Itachi almost laughs as the heat in his chest begins to spread. Maybe he'd tell his driver to leave, skip the troublesome gala, and see if he could convince you to stay in. Maybe -

“Are you ready?” Itachi forces himself to ask, smile widening to show teeth when you roll your eyes and step to the side, inviting him in wordlessly. He needed to see the night through. He wouldn't be so easily distracted by your glitter and barbed tongue.

“No, because you’re early. Are you incapable of telling time without me?”

The butterflies assaulting your chest mixed with the alcohol warming your skin have you coming closer and closer to the unrestrained panic you were feeling earlier. He’d said be ready by eight and you had assumed he would send a driver, like always.

Obviously you were wrong.

Itachi hums, pointedly ignoring your jab, and steps into your apartment. You eye him warily as his head turns slowly, no doubt inspecting your place. He’d never been inside of your home before and finds himself taking in all of the little details. Soft touches of you were everywhere and while he could classify your apartment as busy, it was also comforting. Lived in. A home filled with framed pictures, small plants, and what seemed to be an inappropriate amount of blankets. There were at least two on the couch, two on the armchair, and a pile folded up and tossed onto the ottoman. He reaches for the worn red one on the couch and pulls it between his fingers, eyes sparkling in amusement.

“Do you get cold often?” He questions and you snort, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Shut up. You don’t get to insult my blankets after barging into my apartment.”

Itachi glances at you before dropping the fabric in his hand.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever ‘barged in’ anywhere.”

This pulls a trademark eye roll out of you and Itachi finds himself smiling fondly before his brow furrows. You notice immediately and frown, cocking your head slightly.

“What?” you ask, inhaling sharply when your boss takes a measured step towards you. His movement leaves barely any space between you and you follow his eyes, confused at the way they seemed to trail from the left to the right.

What was he looking at -

Oh. Your earrings.

“Shit” you murmur, both hands coming up to fiddle with the mismatched jewelry dangling from your ears. You had completely forgotten that you hadn’t chosen a set yet and can’t help but grin up at Itachi, shrugging sheepishly.

“Couldn’t decide on a pair, just give me a minute to -”

You go to step around him, planning on just picking randomly and grabbing your shoes from your bedroom, when he shifts his stance to block you. You halt your movement, glancing up at him again, only for everything to shut down when a warm hand reaches to brush against your ear.

Here’s the thing, about Itachi and physical touch.

He didn’t do it. In fact, you’d seen him actively avoid it.

It's not like you two hadn't touched before - consequences from working so closely together. A brush of fingers when handing off files to each other between meetings, a polite hand on the other one’s forearm to grab their attention, a tap on the shoulder to signal it was time to move on. You've even fallen asleep on him a couple times at the airport, which was always coupled with an apology and an indifferent shrug. Regardless, physical touch between you two was always quick, always professional, and never meant to be anything more than innocent.

The hand currently brushing against your face was anything but.

Your body, traitorous thing, was completely frozen and you can’t do anything but blink rapidly at the sudden contact. His fingers toy with your dangly earring and brush where your jaw meets your neck, eyes focused as he considers you. He mirrors his movements on the other side of your head, essentially cradling your face while he mulls over which earrings he likes. At least, that's what you assume he's doing. It's not like you can ask, you're entire being was rendered immobile and useless under his touch and distantly you wonder if you're still breathing. Maybe you stopped. Maybe you'll pass out and wake up and he'll be gone and you can ... oh. The thumb that slowly starts to stroke your jaw fractures your train of thought and you swallow when Itachi finally steps back and drops his hands, eyes glinting mischievously.

“The one on the right suits you better.”

It takes you a moment to remember what he was talking about. You bring a hand that you were trying very hard to keep from shaking up to your right ear and fiddle with the jewelry attached to it.

“Thanks.” you reply, voice barely above a whisper, and move past him to finish getting ready in your bedroom. It only takes you a minute to put on matching earring and grab your shoes and purse - but you take an extra minute to collect yourself.

The heat pooling in your abdomen was working with the butterflies assaulting your tummy and you take a final breath, urging yourself to get it together. It didn't mean anything, he was just messing with you like always, it didn't mean anything. You step out and grab your phone from the couch before dropping it in your purse and heading to the door.

“Let's go Uchiha, now I'm waiting on you.”

There's a low chuckle from behind you and soon you're both entering your building's elevator after exiting your apartment. You're trying desperately to get your heart rate back to normal and spare a glance towards your boss as the doors ding shut.

You had to admit he looked good. Itachi was dressed in all black, his suit jacket extremely form fitting, and you spy what’s come to be your favorite dress shirt underneath it. You noticed that he wasn’t wearing a tie and can’t help but smile.

“Going for a more casual look tonight?” You snark, meeting his gaze with an arched brow. Itachi looked the exact opposite of casual with his hair neatly styled and silver cuff links sparking. Your boss would be breaking necks well into the evening, but still. The absence of a tie strikes you as kind of funny and you're grasping for some sort of normalcy.

Making fun of him was your version of normal. It was a comfortable default and you planned to use it all night if needed.

Itachi narrows his eyes at you and snorts, looking back to watch the numbers on the elevator go down.

"Someone once told me I needed to learn how to tone it down.”

This brings a genuine laugh out of you as memories from a previous conversation spring forward. You had both been attending an art gallery, looking to purchase some pieces for the lobby that had been recently redone. He’d shown up in a similar outfit to the one he was wearing now, which made him a bit overdressed and a complete contrast to your very casual professional attire. Attendees had paid more attention to your boss than the art that night and after two glasses of wine you pulled him to the side, grinning from ear to ear.

“Tone it down Fabio, before they start bidding on you instead.”

His unfiltered reaction had been priceless, head turning toward you so quickly you were surprised his neck didn’t break. Once he saw your evil little smile he’d glared at you and actually rolled his eyes, before directing your attention to a painting he wanted for his office.

"Whoever suggested that is probably a genius and grossly underpaid." You sniff, pretending to pick at a stray thread on your purse. It wasn't a secret that your boss was unjustly pretty and on days when you were feeling particularly sour about it you made sure to tease him. There's a catch of breath from next to you that could be described as a laugh as the elevator doors opened and you begin to move forward, only to come to a complete stop when Itachi speaks.

"She's certainly troublesome, but I'm quite fond of her."

You whip your head to the right, mouth parting in surprise at the bold choice of words, but Itachi is already exiting the elevator, holding the door open with his arm. You spy his driver on the other side of the clear glass doors in your apartment lobby and lift your chin up, determined to not let him see how easily he continued to fluster you. It was all a game, one you've played with him many times, and while you feel the flames of defeat licking at your heels you wouldn't go down easily.

You walk past him, focusing on keeping your breaths even, when he leans in, the silk in his voice barely above a whisper.

“She's also particularly stunning this evening.”

You turn to face him, brow furrowed in confusion, all while failing to ignore the way your heart practically jumped out of your throat.

“Stop that.” You breathe and Itachi arches a brow, withdrawing his arm so the elevator doors can close.

“Stop what?” he asks, so innocently confused, and you bristle, anxiety mixing with something else that was starting to kindle. You had only done one shot, you weren't a lightweight by any means, but that bit of alcohol combined with whatever game Itachi was playing was throwing you through a loop. The pouty, irritable part of you wanted to scratch his eyes out while demanding answers but you'd either needed more alcohol or less witnesses to move forward with that half-cocked plan. So instead -

“You're annoying." You deadpan, turning to keep walking to the car. An amused hum follows you and you can picture the smug look on your boss' face as you both make your way outside. There was a chill in the air that helped alleviate the agitated heat you were battling and by the time you're seated comfortably in the backseat you're feeling a bit more normal.

Itachi slides into the seat next to you and immediately reaches for a pile of folders on the seat next to him. You make a noise of disapproval before remembering that you're still annoyed with him.

“Seriously? Were you working on your way over here? It’s Saturday. We’re literally going to a party.”

You're pointedly ignored, but the driver who's name you cannot remember snorts lightly from the front and your smile shows teeth.

“See? Even he thinks you’re insane.”

Itachi pauses his perusal to glance between you and the console mirror, eyes narrowing marginally.

"I don't pay you two to team up against me."

A sharp, sarcastic noise escapes you and you lean forward, going so far as to place your hand on the driver's seat.

"Does it state anywhere in your contract that we can't conspire together?"

"No ma'am." The man responds, his tone clipped and professional, but the playful glint in his eye made your nose scrunch up in amusement.

"No." You cheerfully agree, settling back into your seat and going so far as the flick the corner of the folder still in Itachi's hands. Your boss lets out a long suffering sigh that you're sure he'd been holding in for days, before relenting and closing the document.

"This is the business proposal for Kakuzu's new-"

"Oh, really? Wow that's incredible, I don't remember asking-"

"If we can come to an agreement this would mean-"

"Wow, again with more information that no one asked-"

"You are quite possibly the most-"

"Incredible, talented, intelligent-"

"I could fire you-"

"Oh I dare you-"

You find yourself laughing as you and Itachi fall into a comfortable back and forth, nerves quickly dissipating as the car pulls off. So long as the rest of the night went like this, you would be fine.

You hoped.

#itachi x reader #itachi x you #itachi uchiha x reader #itachi uchiha x you #itachi fanfic #itachi fanfiction #i love him your honor

[basilone]

Hi Killy? How about #20 caffeine, dealer's choice for characters. Thank you!

Ooo, thank you for this one! 💙 I'm delighted at it being dealer's choice, as this got me to try my hand at writing my fave of faves: Rosie. I do hope I've got him down right! (Slight, slight spoilers for the most recent ep apply!)

caffeine

The base is somewhat beautiful when the sun’s still low. There’s a slight haze hanging just above the dewy grass, too thin to be a full-on fog but lending this early morning a particular enchantment all the same. Gold streaks flicker through the last vestiges of night. If she squints at the treeline hard enough, its greens will mingle with the twinges of red in the dawn. Like Christmas painted through a misty window.

It’ll be a while before Christmas comes, now, though the mornings aren’t getting any warmer.

Imogene puffs up her cheeks. Blows warm air between her hands, then rubs them together briskly. She’s forgotten her gloves again. Margaret’s not about to loan out her perfectly good set of spare gloves, either, if that glare from earlier is anything to go by. And Jeannie is nice and all, but the knitwork on her gloves is absolutely drenched in perfume. Imogene lets out a sigh. Contemplates the risks associated with running back to her bunk and praying her own gloves will be in the place where she put them last.

Truth is, she hasn’t got the time. Jeannie’s already taken off at a dead run for the bathroom for the second time in an hour, which has got Margaret fuming in a way that’ll at least make sure the sink’s going to be so spotless you could eat out of it. Imogene would be more worried about Jeannie if this wasn’t already the fourth time a girl like her was prone to retching her guts out in the morning and being just fine and dandy in the afternoon.

These girls, like some of the men, barely stay long enough to learn their names.

And then, of course, there are those few who seem to stay a lifetime.

“One for the road, Captain Rosenthal?”

His answering laugh is soft, but his joy somehow never fails to meet his eyes. “If you can spare me a cup, yes. Thank you.”

“It’ll be a little minute, sir, sorry.” Imogene shoots him the closest thing she’s got to an apologetic smile. “I hope you can wait that long to get your latest dose of caffeine. These new coffee makers are a bit slower on the uptake.”

Captain Rosenthal hums a little to himself. “I believe I can find the time for it this morning, Imogene.”

“Glad to hear it, sir. Congratulations on your twenty-fifth, by the way!” She’d meant to say that about five days ago, but the party had turned raucous and strange in equal measure before she’d had the chance. And the men had been pretty tightly knit around him, at least before the mood had taken another tailspin downward. “When are you due to go home? Is it a ways away yet?”

He shifts his weight from foot to foot the way he always seems to do when contemplating something important. His gaze fixes on the horizon. Well past the planes on their hardstands, beyond the line of trees and buildings. Like there’s something in the early morning sky only he can see.

Imogene waits him out the way she always does. There is no hurrying Robert Rosenthal, not when he is pondering something important before his first coffee of the day. He might have something interesting to say once the idea lands and takes root inside him. Last time, he had made a small comment about bird migratory patterns that had somehow evolved into a conversation about penguins at the zoo. The time before that, he had asked her something about hairpins – not a topic for a man, or so Margaret had scoffed after – before he’d leaned forward ever so slightly and told her some of his men might have gotten their hands on a second helping of chocolate through the cunning use of hairpins. (DeBlasio, if she had to name one. It’s always the goddamn Italians getting into trouble on this base.)

“I’m not too certain Florida will agree with me.” His smile is almost remorseful, as if he has contemplated the idea and found himself to be rather like a fish out of water. “I’d miss this weather. Gruesome chill in the air this morning.” He shudders just a little, more to himself than to her. “And I have to say, Imogene, I’d be hard-pressed to find better coffee than this.”

“Now you’re just flattering me, sir,” she laughs, grabbing a pristine white cup for him. “We do what we can, but the stateside coffee just tastes better if you ask me. I dream about it sometimes.”

“The perfect cup of coffee? Bit of milk, two sugars. Little bit of foam on top, perhaps.” There’s a twinkle in his bright eyes as he steps closer, keenly awaiting his morning shot of caffeine. “What is your poison of coffee choice in this world, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Imogene hums to herself. “Bit of milk, bit of caramel, sir.” She almost wishes she had enough time to foam the milk up a little, give it a bit of a whisk before stirring it into his cup. “The sugar’s too cloggy. Caramel syrup works just as well to sweeten it.”

“I take it there is no secret stash of caramel syrup on base here?”

“You”– she gestures with the little spoon –“would be correct, Captain. Perhaps you can sneak me some, once you’re back home?”

The shadow that passes over his face is gone as swiftly as it came, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t see it. Imogene sucks in a rather noisy breath. Feels a chill swoop down and back up her spine in a way that’s got very, very little to do with the morning cold of early March. He glances back at the horizon a moment. Wistful, her mind supplies. Then: yearning.

She’s seen it before. In Major Cleven and Captain Rivers, every time they were kept on the ground too long. In Major Egan, once Major Cleven had vanished and left a hole in the fabric of reality itself. In Stella Lombardi, whose eyes never quite seem to meet the ground anymore, and in Two, who might just survive them all. There’s something in the set of their shoulders. Something in their eyes, once you know where to look.

Imogene looks. Sees. “You’re not going home.”

Blue eyes, brighter than any morning, meet her gaze. “Not just yet.” His confession hangs in the air between them a moment. She fills up the space with a mostly full cup of coffee, milk and sugars already stirred in, and is proud when her hand does not tremble. “We have work to do here, don’t we, Imogene?” His bare hand brushes her own before he lifts the cup in clear gratitude. “Thank you for the coffee, as always.”

She takes a deep breath. Steadies herself on the counter, just out of his keen gaze’s reach. “You’re very welcome, sir. Same time tomorrow, then?”

A laugh startles out of him, bright and beaming and so alive that she wants to cry. “Same time as always, ma’am.”

#masters of the air #mota spoilers #rosie rosenthal #oc: imogene #basilonefic #mota oc

[tteokdoroki]

✉️; A ROYAL FIRST. - K.BOKUTO

💌; synopsis - the night before his wedding to another, his royal highness - king bokuto asks you, his childhood best friend, for advice on how to please someone.

↳ length: 3.2K

↳ warnings: smut, mdni 18+, fem!reader, characters aged up to 20s, royalty!au, mentions of death, unprotected sex, clothed sex, fingering ( f!receiving ), creampies, inexperienced!bokuto, king!bokuto, knight!reader.

↳ notes: hello everyone !! this was a lovely commission from @potionpeddlerpatchy who gave me permission to post !! i love writing bokuto sm, i hope you enjoy <3 - m.list ♡

you’ve known koutarō bokuto your entire life, your destinies intertwined by the simplicity of fate. 

your parents served under your companion’s predecessor, the king, long before your existence. your father was the closest thing a servant could be to the king’s right hand ( though just a mere royal cook ), your mother, the nanny to the two daughters and wailing son the queen had bared fruit to. as kind as she was, your mother had done her best to raise the princesses and prince when royal duties prevented their parents from adequately doing so— treating them as if they were her own.

though, not long after prince koutarō’s first tooth and birthday, it was announced to the princesses that their favourite nanny would be expecting, a little girl with galaxy eyes and an adorable face that showed a promising future. a young koutarō was equally as excited as your parents— obsessed with baby babbling to you before you’d even developed ears. 

some say that these moments had linked you for all of eternity.

so, you grew up alongside a prince who was far from neat, with unruly silvering and soot-covered locks, gaps in his teeth from where they’d gotten wobbly or he’d kicked out with friends he claimed were much stronger than you at the time. bokuto could be kind, not just a boy who picked on a girl maybe a little lesser than him. he would read you books from the libraries under blankets before bed while your mother drew him a hot bath; he would help you sound out the tongue twisting syllables of words you had yet to learn ( they were words used by only members of the courts ).

separating both yourself and koutarō was like removing peas from their pod— there was always a fuss, a sharp set of words from your mother as you were ushered out of the room and into the arms of scullery maids so she could prep him for bed. though, once you were old enough to pick a lock with a hairpin you'd stolen while learning to braid the princesses’ hair, yourself and koutarō would sneak into the royal kitchens after dark where your father would often leave out warm milk heated by the fire and slices of sweet apple and bitter imported cheese. 

when you weren’t sneaking about under your parents’ noses, his royal highness would chase you through perfectly primed and prepped royal rose gardens — hot on your heels, his hair tickled by a fresh summer’s breeze and exquisite royal garments spiked by thorns while you found yourself to be in an event grubbier state with dirt on your cheeks and your maid’s uniform torn in places. neither of you, as young children in a castle full of unknown discoveries, could seem to care, even if it meant ruining the queen’s tea parties with trade ambassadors and getting scolded beyond belief later.

bokuto is set to become king one day, you know that, as the first born son to his father. so when your early teens approach, he’s put into the same etiquette and history of the monarchy classes his two elder sisters took when they were his age. except bokuto struggles only just, he tries hard but the knowledge doesn’t come easy. so, you take to sitting with him in the back of lectures from the annoyingly snooty royal tutor who looks down on you for having scrubbed your knuckles raw in preparing their quarters the evening before. you help bokuto remember names of earls and dukes and foreign princes and their wives and their children by making up silly nicknames and pointing out their most noticeable features. 

you almost lose your composure to fits of giggles when you help your father cater the king’s audience, the court, on one occasion— where bokuto greets one of the dukes as ‘sir web feet’ for the peculiar way in which he stands. 

the queen and her daughters mourn the loss of your mother when you and the young prince hit sixteen. she’d been lost in childbirth to your younger brother and at first you resent him for it, barely aiding your father in taking care of the newborn and instead throwing yourself into what’s left of your mother’s duties. when the moon rises again, bokuto takes you for a ride on his horse to a spot with a winding tree from your childhood and lets you cry on his shoulders until your head aches, and you can’t breathe. he pets your hair, doesn’t let you go. the queen makes you her lady in waiting shortly after, gifting you a pair of diamond earrings on your eighteenth birthday. you gratefully accept, meaning you’ll be able to spend more time with koutarō even with his duties.

the same earrings you’re complimented on when you meet the royal baker’s apprentice for the first time—he calls you pretty, says that the gems cannot rival your infectious dazzle and you can’t help but bashfully mumble how you think he’s not too bad on the eyes either. and bokuto’s angsty teenage heart flares with jealousy upon noticing the baker’s boy attempting to claim your first kiss behind the palace’s cobblestone walls at the back entrance of the kitchen, near the apple tree which sources fruit for his elder sister’s favourite dessert.

and being the spoilt prince he is, the salt and pepper haired boy calls upon your feeble crush to do his bidding— ruining your first kiss. neither of you speak of the incident after that.

tragedy strikes again when the king goes to war— himself your father and a good portion of the other men in the kingdom drafted into battle are killed in action. you’ve mourned before, you have little time to grieve now that you must look after your brother too… but you remain a sturdy presence in the future king, koutarō’s life. he needs someone while funeral processions set a dark cloud over his homeland, while he’s rushed into glittering gems and a crown from stolen lands when he’s coronated swiftly after. 

though, you learn that fate and eternity are not kind to those born of different status— for bokuto is quickly and heavily pressured to find a princess or a lady or a duchess to marry, so he can produce heirs and appease his shaken kingdom. and you are quickly replaced as someone he needs, becoming someone he once knew. so you drown yourself in work, beg the queen mother to give you a place in the royal guard to earn more for your brother’s schooling, to protect him and yourself from any harm so that he doesn’t have to lose another. 

you work your way up the ranks while koutarō searches for his bride, and once he’s finally settled on a girl— you’ve settled as vice captain to the royal guard. 

you lead your new life with risk even though you’ve yet to tell King koutarō bokuto that you’ve loved him since you could talk, even after he ruined your first kiss and used you as a crutch of grief. you might as well live this way for your love finds himself promised to a sweet girl a few kingdoms over and you now know that realistically, you could never be with him— for once realising you’re of different worlds and that fate can be unkind no matter the circumstances.

“I-i’m…i’m not…”

“out with it, your majesty.” 

you have no idea why the king has turned to you, of all people, for advice. anyone with a set of working eyes could see how inappropriate it is to see the king stutter sweetly over easy words with red flamed cheeks in the presence of another woman… especially when he was due to be wed the day after next. 

but you haven’t the time to dwell on it too long, for you appreciate that koutarō has chosen you as company tonight before he severs your fate ties eternally by the bond of marriage to another. it’s been a while since you’ve seen him, he’s grown well and fine— hair tousled and framing his face in the light and dark of the moon, amber eyes glistening as if they carry sunshine and the warmth of a good fire. bokuto is broad, his shoulders squared, arms muscular and chest… well built. he’s handsome, but you’ve always known him to be. 

“i have no experience!” bokuto finally breathes out, the air carrying his words rushing out of him. “i am to be wed—“

“yes, sir. the engagement is hardly unheard of by the kingdom…”

“and i am expected to pleasure my future wife on the night of such wedding—“ 

you quirk a brow, leaning against the twisted tree. he’d asked you to come to your childhood spot when the stars were brightest. how could you refuse? “where—where are we going with this your majesty?” 

“would you stop referring to me so formally!” your king finally snaps, the warmth in his eyes flickering slightly— the red in his cheeks expanding down his thick neck. “i’m koutarō to you, i always have been.” he adds seriously before continuing on with less confidence. “i don’t— i’ve never pleasured a woman before. i’m still a—“

“a virgin,” you finish for him, a dangerous gleam to your eye, like the sword at your hip and the armour you usually wear. koutarō had always thought such garments suited you well; though he cannot decide if you’re prettier with or without the armour. “i am not, the baker’s boy took mine. the one you scared away. is that why you came to me for help?” 

bokuto scoffs, the blood rushing under his skin teaming with jealousy once again. “yes.” 

“then i shall do as you command, your highness.” you tease, obliging in his quest to teach him how to be a good lover and performer in bed. even as you push the young king into your spot by the tree— you can’t help your beating heart, bokuto had always been your friend in some way or another…but it feels so selfish to want him like this. once his firm back connects with the bark, your mouth presses against the prince’s before he can change his mind— lips hotly slotting against one another as if fate willed for them to meet this way. you give slow and sensual licks into koutarō’s mouth until he’s ready to open up to you, he groans softly, the sweet noise fluttering in the nightly breeze.

the way you so eagerly kiss him has the king’s stomach in knots and his cheeks a hot mess, and only when he tenderly grabs your hips— sucks on your tongue as well, does an appreciative whine escape you too. “the first time you kiss her…b-be slow, and gentle…your highness.” panting, you pull back slowly and nip bokuto’s slower lip— amused by the trail of saliva connecting you. 

“I’ve kissed some,” he tells you earnestly, tugging you closer by the fat of your hips— the desire to be closer beginning to prickle at the tips of his fingers. “call me koutarō, please…” amber eyes flick up, holding whispers of the sun where the moon is high in the sky. “no formalities.” 

“of course,” you oblige him, fingers reaching up to tangle in his lunar-eclipsed hair, yanking the king back onto your mouth since you miss the way he moves along with you. soon, these kisses drop to bokuto’s unmarred and golden flesh, begging to be marked by your hungry teeth and tongue… you rip through robes that cost more than a months earnings and lay your claim in places no one will see, darkened blues and shades of plum as ripe as those used for winter pies back in the castle. “kiss her everywhere, with teeth; and soothe with tongue. mark her so she knows that she’s yours.” your hands find themselves slipping under the coal grey of the king’s military uniform, smoothing over sweltering skin while the chime of his medals sweet into the night.

as soon as your lips that whisper sins withdraw from bokuto—he flips your positions, your chest against the rough bark as he quickly unfastens your gown till it slips down your shoulders, revealing inches of you to the prowling moon up above and to the sunshine in his eyes. “i can do that, teach me more.” there’s an echo of hunger to his voice, vibrating against the back cusp of your neck as he sinks the sharp edge of his teeth into it— making needy butterflies burst through your tummy, lust tingling in your veins and burning you like sunshine from the inside out. “show me,” 

you arch into every touch he gives, every fingertip pressed into the dips and curves of your body— the king honours you with his touch, so you part your shaking thighs of your own accord with koutarō’s hands that pinch and pull at you never too far behind. the air between you rises in temperature, though the night is cool and you lose yourself in the way your childhood friend smooths the curve of your spine and globes of your ass from over your light night dress. “b-bokuto,” you warm him, bracing yourself against the tree. “use your fingers, between her thighs.” reaching behind you, you draw him near to your aching core underneath your skirts and shudder at the press of his thick digits against your clit. “like this…in circles, y-you must prepare her properly.”

they dance over your slick folds, a finger running over the length of your slit contently. “is this okay?” he seems shy, but koutarō lets out a laugh with how you tremble just by being touched, his thumb finds your clit and draws circles in the way that you like, he fumbles, movements cautious but fuelled by the way you moan and grip his wrist tighter. the king spins you around once more, leaning down to bite your neck and chest from over the front of your cream coloured dress, his remaining hand softly prodding at your soaked entrance. 

“y-yes! your highness…” you gasp, back arched and hole clenched around nothing, “fingers. inside.” bokuto takes your hissed words as an order, slipping one…then two fingers inside of you, laughing under his breath at the salacious squelch your count lets out as he does so.

shaking his head, the king follows each of your breathy commands after this, your sweet pussy drooling arousal into the seat of his palm. “it’s koutarō.” he sighs as wet whimpers brew on your lips, eyes sealed shut but you’re nothing but an adorable mess to bokuto. he watches you in awe, free hand bunching up the material heavy on your waist so he can look at the way your pretty pussy swallows up his fingers, bearing down on your g-spot when he curls them. 

he’s good, though clumsy, but bokuto is all that you need— brain fizzing with your impending orgasm, your juices running up his muscular arm. “i’m close—kou. faster!” squealing, your hips rut up and only add to the obscenity of the scene, bokuto finger fucking you until his heart’s content, until both of your clothes are soaked through. “always have to make her release first…”

and the king does that, a man built to rule taking orders from you— a mere knight. his childhood best friend. you cum quickly, gushing in streams stronger than the rivers on the outskirts of your kingdom, bokuto grins from ear to ear scissoring you through your huff as it splits through you and your sex spasms around his fingers. “my sweet, are you alright?” he asks you softly, slowing down his roll. 

“thank you for checking in, your royal highness…but now we move onto the final show,” babbling as you recover from your high— you reach for bokuto’s pants, working through them quickly until you’re able to grasp at his hot cock. 

the king sucks in a breath. “it’s best you don’t, i won’t last if you do…” 

you oblige, following the only order the salt and pepper haired royal had given you tonight. you guide his mushroomed cockhead right into your entrance, aided by the slickness from your previous orgasm. eyes crossing, bokuto juts his hips forward to sheathe himself inside you fully— his meaty, heavy shaft pushing up against all sorts of pleasure spots even though he’s barely filling you up. koutarō pulsates, he’ll barely last and neither will you at this point.

leaning forward, you press your foreheads together— hands in his silvering hair, your Cupid’s bow wet from kissing him, missing his lips against yours. “move, y-you have to move.” you simply say bokuto takes you, claims your body as if it’s his. as if he’s not to be wed. the king is big where he lacks experience, bullying his way through your insides and smearing precum along your ribbed walls— jamming up against your g-spot with ease. 

his thrusts are uncoordinated, sloppy while you squirm in his hold, skin scraping against tree bark while slapping against one another. “you feel like heaven,” bokuto near cries, clumsily finding your lips has his breeders balls batter your ass, pelvis grinding against your clit. the king lifts a leg of your over his hip, rolling into you as your bodies grow slicker and slicker, mouths wet and pressed up against each other. “looking at you now…you rival heaven too,” the praise shoots straight to your core, the knot built up in your lower stomach threatening to unravel. “you’re close.” 

he can tell by the twitch of your face and the swell of your lip between your teeth— you only nod, tears blurring your vision as you look up at your sunshine. your bokuto. “i love you,” you say the words though they're forbidden, even if within the next two sunrises the king is due to be married. “oh gods, oh fuck—! koutarō… i’m—!” 

the king only smiles, though his eyes roll back and the tree leaves above you rock with the fervityof his thrusts. “i love you too…” koutarō murmurs, his skin clapping harshly against yours— so hard he might have bruised your inner thighs. “might you cum again for me, sweetness?”

bokuto’s words have you clenching around him, sending you both hurtling into the throws of your high. your nails dig into the king’s strong biceps, your heart in your throat as you dream of his throbbing cock and his load shoots deep into your womb with a hot throb. 

“marry me.” koutarō breathes, still cumming in thick spurts, stretching you over his fat cock as he sets your leg down.

you’ve barely come down, and the king. bokuto. he makes you feel like you’ve been doused in cold water. “a-are you insane? we can’t do that! you’re to be married—“ you scramble for an excuse, still clinging onto the man, relishing his closeness.

“it could be to you,” bokuto coos and brushes a thumb over your cheek. “i need to be married to someone who is approved of. my mother loves you, the people love you— everything you’ve done and the people you’ve protected, that is you.” 

“but i…i’m not a queen.” 

you flounder, but bokuto has none of that, cupping your face in his large hands. “you can be, you’ve ruled my heart since we were children,” he kisses you slow, eclipsing your doubts with the warmth of the solar sun blaring deep in his heart and sending it right over yours. “so, will you? marry me?”

and it’s like the strings of fate that were once cut have tied themselves back together again as you nod your head vigorously— sealing the deal with an enthusiastic. 

“yes! yes, koutarō, i’ll marry you.”

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