#Master Lock Combination

[locksmithchicagoil]

Locksmith Chicago IL

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[your-fave-is-being-blended]

You are using a Masterlock 175.

It can be openned using a M-[BLENDER]

A 175 Combination Lock from Master Lock is being blended!!

You cannot save it.

[reverend-meat]

been cleaning this up during the break

wip for my fic,

[chaoticsorceressztc]

Master Lock did not stand up to the rock "picking" test. Epic fail on their part. Didn't get it open, but pretty sure anyone who was competent enough would know how to unlock it after the face is off.

[thecheshireprincess]

Quiet

Chishiya x F!Reader

Summary: You and Chishiya play a game together; you just have to be quiet 🤫

Content Warning: NSFW (18+), quite literally porn with plot; smutty smut, slight breeding kink, Chishiya and Reader are drugged, but they chose it for themselves

I won't tell anyone what or what not to do, but please interact responsibly ✨️

AO3 Link Here

A/N: Not related to any of my other stories but I hope you enjoy nonetheless 😝 The idea for this game is absolutely ridiculous but made me laugh too hard not to include it

The bright light from your phone illuminates the perplexed look painting your features. The task seemed, simple? Suspiciously simple for a Five of Hearts. Your eyes narrow into slits, deperately trying to see the perspective of the game master; what was the catch?

[Game: Quiet]

[Rules: Gain entry to and remain locked in your cell with your partner for the duration of the game; if the noise level in the cell exceeds 70 decibels, you and your partner will be shocked at increasing levels of intensity.]

[Game Clear: Survive in your cell for entirety of the time limit.]

[Game Over: Failure to gain entry to your cell with your partner will result in a game over for both players. Exceeding the sound limit three times will result in a game over for both players.]

[Time Limit: 2:00:00]

A brief glance to your left puts Chishiya in your line of vision. The blonde stands waiting patiently, unperturbed beside you with hands stuffed deep in his pockets. Though you were admittedly a little creeped out by the dingy and dimly lit prison you found yourself occupying, you knew you wouldn't mind being locked in a jail cell with him for two hours. In fact, the thought alone made carnal heat bloom in your core.

A door buzzes open to your right, revealing a hallway filled with solitary confinement cells. Six of the rooms have a small table sitting in front of them, adorned with a sign and some other things you can't see yet. The task that will gain you entry to the cell. Chishiya quirks an eyebrow, grabbing onto your hand and leading you through the narrow hallway. The warmth of his hand against yours sends an electrical current through your body and short circuits your mind.

You'd been somewhat friends with the blonde for, well, long enough. You were best friends with Kuina, and he always just seemed to be somewhere in the background; static noise to your combined exhuberant energies. You didn't mind that either, his presence was enjoyable and calming. Plus, it allowed you to study him enough to at least fantasize what he might do to you if he wasn't such a cold and distant prick. If only you could feel his surprisingly warm hands elsewhere, one holding you down and the other sinking lower and lower until -

Get it together, you mentally slap yourself. You can't be getting all worked up when you have to be stuck in a cell with the man for two hours. Save it for later, when you can actually do something about it.

Coming back to reality, you see Chishiya is staring at you expectantly, offering something to you. You blink dumbly, "What?"

"I said, are you gonna take the pill or not? I want to know if I'm dying by laser in the hallway or if we can get this over with." He blinks slowly, face completely devoid of emotion, as usual. You look skeptically at the pill, then at Chishiya, and back at the pill.

Ah, so this was the catch. You'd have to consume an unknown substance to even get inside your cell, and who knew what it would do to you once you did? But if you didn't, you'd be greeted by the warm kiss of a laser to the head.

The man smirks when you snatch the pill out of his fingertips, gulping it down and chugging some water before you can lose your nerve. He'd clearly already taken his while you were busy fantasizing about his hands roaming your body. You watch with bated breath as he clips the shock bracelet around his wrist, then does the same for you. How romantic, matching jewelry.

When the cell door buzzes open, the two of you enter. You immediately separate yourself from him, allowing your body to slide slowly against the rusty metal wall down to the dirty tiled floor. Chishiya quietly settles himself down across from you, taking the hint about wanting space.

The first fifteen minutes or so go by easily, neither of you saying a word. You start to wonder if the pill was just a way to mess with your mind, and it wouldn't have any effect. You almost burst into laughter at the sheer audacity.

But then, you feel heat beginning to prickle underneath your skin, a cool sheen of sweat appearing on your chest and arms. You quickly rip your sweatshirt off, leaving you in just your bikini top, thinking you must just be overheating in the small space. No good. Your internal temperature continues to skyrocket, making your entire body feel weak and sore.

Your water! You just need a cool drink of water. When that does nothing to quell the sandpapery feeling in your mouth, you lay your head back on the cool metal wall and shut your eyes. You just need to breathe through this. It's all in your head.

No, your pulse is racing, and you find your body unconsciously squeezing your thighs together to find just a little bit of friction. Fuck.

It's then that you realize, and your eyes shoot open in panic to look at your counterpart sitting against the wall across from you. He looks relatively composed still, but you can see sweat forming on his brow and the vice-like grip he has on his own water bottle is causing his knuckles to turn white.

"C-chishiya . . ." You moan out brokenly, not intending to sound so desperate already. He looks at you knowingly, head still leaned back on the wall behind him, "I know, it was an aphrodisiac."

He smirks lightly at you, you who are starting to drip in sweat and pant. "What are we gonna do?" You mewl, pain starting to flood your senses. You didn't know that you could get so aroused that it would physically hurt your entire body, but here you were.

The man smirks, raising an eyebrow at you, as if to say what do you think?

You shake your head slightly, embarrassed. It isn't that you don't want Chishiya like that. Of course you do; you're aching for him. It's that you don't want him like this. Because you're forced onto each other by a cruel twist of fate in Borderland.

"No?" He clicks his tongue, "A shame," he mocks. "And I was so interested in helping you, too." You choke back a sob, his teasing words doing nothing but stoking the fire burning inside you.

He grins a Cheshire grin now, whispering your name in a raspy tone that floods your panties with arousal, "Beg for it." You could have came right there hearing that, fuck.

"Please, Chishiya!" You cry out, frantically, before clapping your hands over your mouth. Quiet. Chishiya's eyes glitter in amusement now, this was certainly one of the more exciting games he'd played. And with you? With you, this was a gift. He'd always wanted you, but would never show it, not unless he was forced to. Oh, fate.

"Please what, angel?" He grins, staring wide-eyed at you as though he was confused about what you could possibly want from him.

"Please come over here and help me! I'll do anything, please please please." Your desperation is at an all time high, you can't and don't want to withstand Chishiya's teasing right now.

The blonde coos mockingly at you as he stands smoothly, crossing the floor to close the distance between you. He kneels down, gripping your jaw and brushing his lips very lightly against yours, "I thought you'd last longer than that before giving in." Your breath catches in your throat as one hand softly cradles the back of your head and the other travels down to find the waistband of your fleece sweatpants.

Chishiya looks into your eyes, allowing you to see the deep desire you feel for him reflected back in his, he wants you too. He studies your face for a moment, before asking, "May I?" You groan, because who isn't turned on by a polite king?

"Please Chishiya, I want it. More than anything." You see a flicker of excited anticipation in his face, it looks gorgeous painted on his usually stoic features. Long, dexterous fingers at long last slip into your panties, collecting the wetness that was pooled there and rubbing a few tentative circles on your clit. When you throw your head back against his hand in total bliss, the man lets out a groan of his own, "You're so wet, and I've barely touched you. You won't last long like this will you, baby?" The sound you let out is a dangerous one, and Chishiya pulls his hand away to cover your mouth. The loss of his intimate touch is devastating and you look at him with tears welling up in your eyes. You physically cannot wait anymore.

"Gotta keep quiet for me, angel. Don't forget we're playing a game," he whispers, not moving his hand away until you finally nod in agreement.

He smirks at you, shifting to lean himself up against the wall, and pulling your body to sit between his spread legs. With both hands, he quickly undresses your bottom half, tossing your sweatpants and panties somewhere across the room. He moves your hair carefully out of the way, bringing his plush lips to suck and bite at the sweet spot on your neck, simultaneously using his hands to spread your legs for him.

Your head falls back on his shoulder, mind completely spinning just from his assault on your neck. You are so in trouble. His left hand comes up to cover your mouth, preemptively knowing that you won't be quiet for him as he'd asked. You were grateful for that, because when he plunges two long digits inside you without warning, you squeal in pleasure and surprise.

You turn to see the sparkle in his eyes as he curls his fingers deliciously in just the right way to make your toes curl. His thumb circles your swollen clit, fingers finding a steady pace that makes you pant and whine. You know you won't last long like this, hips already grinding down into his hand, begging for relief from the intoxicating effects of the drug pumping through your veins. Chishiya knows it too, smirking against the soft skin of your neck.

The blonde works you on his fingers, still pumping in and out at a rapid pace, your body starting to squirm against him. You can feel his cock straining against his sweatpants, and it gives you some joy to tease him like this. Chishiya pulls his hand away from your mouth, using it instead to hold your hips in place. "Quit teasing, little minx," he growls dangerously in your ear.

Breathlessly you whine, "Let me touch you too, Shiya, please." When Chishiya looks down at you, half cradled in his arms, you see two deep pools of darkness gazing back at you, ready to drown you in his lust.

You clumsily push yourself up off of him, turning around to pull his sweatpants off, the dark patch of pre-cum gracing his boxers catching your attention. He was loving playing this game with you. Your breath catches in your throat again. You run your hand lustfully along his member still hidden by his boxers, but the man is rock hard and he is big. Heat pools in your core, your head swimming with desire.

You look up at Chishiya through your eyelashes, nearly cumming when you see the blissed out look on his face. He is stunning when he doesn't look so serious - like a perfectly chiseled statue. You hope you'll get to see this look on his face more often. You finally pull the boxers off of his body, allowing his cock to spring free and bounce a little against his abdomen. Perfect.

You run your thumb over his slit, collecting some of the slick and distributing it all over. You moved slowly with him, watching curiously at what would make Chishiya moan, what would make him growl, and what made his balls tighten. His hand wanders back to your clit, rubbing quick circles to match your pace. His other hand grabs onto your jaw, pulling your face to his and kissing you desperately. You moan lowly into his mouth, giving him the opportunity to sneak his tongue in and tangle it with yours.

You are in heaven with Chishiya's fingers pressed against your wet heat, your own hand wrapped around his cock bringing each other closer and closer to the promised land. But you want more, you want to taste him badly. Just as you are about to lean down to take him in your mouth, he interrupts you.

"Fuck this," Chishiya whispers, clearly at his breaking point too. He lifts you with ease, tossing you gently onto the dusty bed at the far end of the cell. One hand shoots out to grab one of your ankles, dragging you to the edge of the bed as he gracefully falls to his knees between your legs.

You lean up on your elbows to stare down at him breathlessly, brushing your fingers into his shockingly soft hair. Chishiya grins a Cheshire grin at you, licking his lips slightly like a predator about to devour his dinner.

Both hands hook underneath your legs, spreading you apart for him and lifting your hips a bit, his lips coming to lick an experimental strip up your slit. The moans you let out for him go straight to his cock, only making him want to devour you more. Chishiya suddenly brings two of his fingers to your lips, raising an eyebrow at you expectantly. Suck. You do, taking his fingers lustfully into your mouth and coating them in saliva before he pulls them out with a wet pop.

He brings those fingers to dive into your fluttering core, immediately curling them forward to find your spongey spot while his lips suck gloriously on your clit. You see stars, knowing that this man is about to give you the best orgasm of your life. Your body involuntarily squirms underneath Chishiya as you get closer and closer to those aforementioned stars. The fingers of his free hand intertwine with the fingers of the hand you'd had in his hair, letting you ground yourself in his touch.

His pace does not falter, fingers driving in and out of your pussy, causing obscene squelching sounds to bounce off the walls in the small cell. Hopefully that sound isn't higher than 70 decibels. His tongue collects everything you give him, alternating between licking and sucking you as you writhe beneath him. His watchful eyes take in every second of you like this, you are gorgeous underneath him. The man sees how your eyebrows furrow in just such a way, your tight hole clamping impossibly around his fingers. And your arousal hitting his tongue - God, he would do this all day if you'd let him.

"Let go for me, baby," Chishiya moans against your clit, the vibrations sending you to the moon. For the first time in your life, you squirt as you orgasm, soaking the dusty white sheets beneath you. You're certain you've died. The sound that leaves you is animalistic, loud, and completely against the rules. You feel your body and Chishiya's stiffen and jolt as you're shocked for exceeding the sound limit, but honestly it kind of extends the high that you're riding. Maybe you could get into that kind of thing during intimacy.

When the shock finally subsides, your entire body collapses back onto the bed, completely spent and nerve endings still on fire from the charge. When you finally open your eyes and start to feel yourself relaxing back into your body, you see Chishiya looking up at you in what can only be described as awe.

"That was so worth getting shocked for," he laughs, licking his lips clean of your arousal. Just the vision of him between your legs has your pussy throbbing again, that was the best orgasm of your life, but you desperately wanted more from him.

You grab onto the front of his white jacket, pulling him up to press your lips against his. You whimper, tasting yourself on him and let him deepen the kiss. You've waited for what feels like forever to finally kiss him like this, and you'll be damned if you miss out on a second. You glance down at his red, angry looking cock and feel your mouth water. You want to feel him fill you more than anything.

He presses your body down into the mattress, leaning over you as you stare like an angel up at him, hair spread on the sheets around you like a halo. "Do you know how long I've waited to have you under me like this?" He leans down, peppering your jaw and neck with kisses, sinking his teeth into you and marking you for everyone to see later. Your heart hammers against your ribcage at his admission, Chishiya wanted you too.

He shrugs his jacket off, leaving himself completely bare in front of you. Heat pools once again in your belly, you hoped desperately he was about to give you exactly what you need.

He pulls the flimsy strings holding your bikini top to your body, helping to pull it off of you. "You frustrate me so much, you know? Waltzing around in these tiny bikinis, not even realizing that I want to bend you over and fuck you in front of everyone just so they know who you belong to," he growls in that sexy raspy voice again. Your pussy clenches around nothing, arousal dripping down onto the bed and he absolutely notices.

He raises an eyebrow at you, teasingly running his fingers through your soaked slit again, "You like that, baby? You want everyone to know that this pussy is mine, don't you?" You whine, head falling back against the bed and growing increasingly needy, "Please Chishiya, t-take me."

He wastes no more time, letting a growl escape his chest, and in one swift motion he sheathes his throbbing cock inside you. "Fuck," he whimpers, "You're so fucking tight, perfect for me baby." His praise causes your cunt to tighten around him, panting as he lowers himself to attack your swollen lips once more. You whimper and whine pathetically into his mouth, feeling so delightfully full for once in your life as he stretches your core.

His arms wrap securely around you, cradling you to him as if you were the most precious thing in the world. To him, you are. Rocking into you at a slow pace at first, Chishiya whispers absolute filth in your ear between sloppy kisses. You whine just from the sound of his voice, but also because you need more to make the pain of the drug dissipate. "Shiya please! I need you to f-fuck me!" Oh, how he wants to hear you scream that loud enough for his neighbors to hear.

The man emits another low rumble in his chest, yanking your legs up onto his shoulders and crossing your ankles behind his neck. He quickly finds a steady pace, hips rolling against you with one hand grabbing the skin at your hip for purchase and the other coming up to pinch a hardened nipple between two fingers. Chishiya can feel how the muscles in his abdomen are already tensing up; he knows that HE won't last long like this, you're soaking wet and so fucking tight, his cock feeling at home inside you like he'd always been meant to be there.

The aphrodisiac clouds his mind and yours, he's so desperate for you. You look up at him through half-lidded eyes, lips bruised and puffy from the heat of your kisses. Electricity goes straight to his core, fuck, you're so perfect.

"M'gonna cum soon, baby," he whispers, causing your pussy to flutter around him again. You loved that you were making him feel as good as he was making you feel. You pull your legs off of his shoulders to wrap around his hips instead, a silent plea for him to cum inside. You needed to feel him fill you up.

And oh, how he couldn't wait to fill you up. Whether the drug or just some sick part of his mind he'd kept locked away until now, he wanted to keep you filled with his cum until it took. That thought made his nerve endings light on fire.

You whimper in desperation when Chishiya presses his body weight back on top of you, lips joining yours once more in a passionate but tender kiss. As his tongue locks with yours, he brings two fingers to circle your clit, trying to get your next orgasm to come before he does.

With so many sensations flooding you all at once, you do find yourself on the edge again, you need just a little bit more.

"Shiya . . . I'm -" you start, but the man is desperately trying not to cum too soon and cuts you off with a low growl, "Cum for me baby, please." His hips snap into yours now, setting a blazing pace as his movements get sloppy.

That's all you need to be thrown over the edge of your orgasm, cunt squeezing tightly around Chishiya's hardened member as you wail loudly, forgetting yourself once more. It's just so good.

Your orgasm triggers his, and you whine even more as rope after rope of his hot cum paints your walls white, his lips pressing hard against yours as he fills you completely. The warm sensation of his cum filling you nearly gives you a third orgasm, until you're shocked by the collar. Neither of you care, just hanging onto each other tightly as the current rushes through you.

You grimace when Chishiya pulls out, missing the feeling of being filled to the brim by him almost immediately. He lowers himself to the side of you, leaning against one elbow. His free hand comes up to caress your cheek, pulling your soft lips back against his again. Where before it was frantic, now it felt romantic, slow, intentional.

His hand travels, featherlight touch dancing down your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. Overstimulated, you whine a bit as your nerve endings feel about to explode. He pulls his face away from yours, eager to study his long fingers as they push his cum back into your pussy. Your body shivers, and he admires the way you react.

"No more, Shiya, s'too much," you whine as his fingers begin circling your clit again. He hums in response, not stopping, but not increasing his speed either.

"Just a little more, angel. I told you I've waited forever for this." You mewl in overstimulation as he picks up the pace, your hips lifting off the bed and you squirm underneath him.

[Game Clear - Congratulations] The cheerful robot chimes. You'd cleared the game, and gained so much more than Visa days.

You collapse, letting out an exhausted sigh as the man pulls his hand away from your sensitive core. "Think you can wait a little longer, then?" You ask tiredly, seriously needing a shower and a tiny bit of rest before continuing these activities with Chishiya.

He smirks, grasping your jaw to bring your face towards him again. "Let's get back to The Beach. I want to make sure everyone can hear you scream for me," he announces, making your insides go up in flames once more.

It would be a long night.

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

Masterlist

[draftsandchains]

^ty now i know xd

tbh I’ll prob have more serious thoughts about it after i watch this ls finale a few months later lol. trying to keep up with it is stressing me out rn so im not gonna.

(Lifesteal Season 6 spoilers if you’re avoidinng those idk) Anyways Timekillers officially teamed up for a season finale for once. How are we feeling about that

help which guys is that idk duo names

[bloodibambiidoll]

Nasty Girl ⟡˖ Older!Rafe Cameron x Perv!Reader ⟡˖

✰ Rafe is an arrogant dick, over a decade older than you and your dad’s boss, you shouldn’t want anything to do with him. So why can’t you stay away? ✰

۶♡ৎ This is a request from my angel @babygorewhore I love you sm, this one’s for you pookie ۶♡ৎ

✰ Age gap (Rafe is early 40s reader is mid 20s), Obsessive behaviors, perverted acts involving panties, gagging, choking, spit kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, pussy slapping, pillow humping, pussy eating, cum eating, size kink 18+MNDI ✰

You can’t stand Rafe Cameron. And the fact that you’re so obsessed with him only makes you hate him more. No matter how much you hated the way he walked around like he owned the world, or the rotating door of women he brings around, you can’t shake this irresistible pull he has on you. You shouldn’t feel this way, not only is Rafe a huge dick he’s also over a decade older than you and your dad’s boss. It started off small, stealing glances at him every time you visited your dad at work, dressing in your most revealing dresses and skirts to his work events, making off handed comments and brushing past him when there was clearly room to go around. It wasn’t until you caught him in a bathroom with some lanky blonde bent over the counter while noises that resembled a crow left her body that you finally lost it.

You decided to leave the company charity event early, making sure to pass Rafe’s car and leave your tiny pink thong on his side-view mirror. He wouldn’t know they were yours, but he would know that they didn’t belong to the girl he was currently balls deep inside of because you saw her coral thong pushed to the side. After that it was like you couldn’t stop. You started leaving your panties anywhere you’d think Rafe would find them. In his office on his desk or the chair, his car became a favorite, you even managed to loop one around his drink while he wasn’t looking at the country club once. After the first few pairs you started leaving dirty photos of yourself along with them. Not showing your face, of course. Just shots of your ass and tits, always matching the underwear you planned to leave. You thought about maybe just texting or even emailing them to him but your dad gave him both of those things “in case of emergency”. So you decided to do it old school and take photos on your Polaroid. It was sexier that way, anyway.

But you haven’t done anything like what you’re about to do. You’re upstairs with the sound of loud voices all drowned together barely making it through the thick, high floors beneath you. It didn’t take you long to find Rafe’s room. A double door at the end of the long hall with gold ornate knobs was very clearly the master. You also weren’t surprised he had a keypad lock on his door, especially throwing a party like this. Your dad and his coworkers are everyday businessmen to the sivlian eye but behind closed doors they’re into some pretty deep criminal shit. Luckily you already managed to break into his laptop. It was almost too easy, he navigates technology like a grandpa even though he’s only forty. You had a passing thought about teaching him a more efficient way to organize his work laptop but you quickly shut it down. You’re supposed to hate him. Even if you him to fuck you until you can hardly breathe. He had a whole entire document of passwords and key combinations and you may have written all of them down. So you easily slipped inside after entering the numbers on the keypad.

You spent some time looking around and it was about what you expected. Sleek, expensive furniture, no decorations, the white walls bare aside from a random picture of a boat near the window. It's so clean it almost seems like no one lives here but you assume that’s probably due to the cleaners. You go through his drawers, nothing of interest really, unless you count all the clothes you could potentially steal. His bathroom is just as clean as his room and you can’t help but smirk when you notice a full skin care routine sitting on his counter. So vain. But, you can’t deny a man who is invested in his hygiene is extremely sexy. You smell his expensive colognes, his body wash, even his fucking shampoo. You inhale every single one like it’s your drug of choice. Though, you’re sure they smell a million times better on his skin, mixed with his musk.

After spending some time snooping, your focus turns back to the real reason you came in here. You walk into his large walk-in closet and flick on the light. There’s a glass jewelry case in the middle, filled with designer watches, rings, chains, and sunglasses. You approach it and try to pull open the top drawer when you’re met with resistance, you notice another combination lock. But a lightbulb goes off in your head, remembering the key code marked “jewelry case” before pulling out your phone, finding the numbers and unlocking the drawer with a click. The first drawer is, as expected, more jewelry that matches the items in the display case above. The second drawer though, that’s a different story. When you slide it open instead of expensive designer, it’s filled with lace and silk.

Every single pair of your panties you’ve left for him are in this drawer, along with the Polaroids stacked neatly. Upon closer inspection you notice that they’re covered not just in your cum, but his too. It has your pussy nearly dripping, you were already wet from the minute you saw him earlier tonight but now you can feel your slick dripping down your inner thighs, causing them to stick together under your micro dress. You have to practically drag yourself away from the sight of your underwear under lock and key, almost like they’re treasure, covered in a mixture of Rafe's cum and your own.

You look around the rest of the space and the entire span of the closet is lined with his clothes hanging on wracks. One side is clearly business attire and the other is more casual. Though there isn’t a huge difference, you’ve never seen Rafe in jeans and a t-shirt. You can’t decide if the thought is more sexy or comical. It’s hard to imagine him being well, relaxed. You grab a black button up before exiting the closet, undoing the buttons as you go. A thousand dirty fantasies run through your mind as your eyes roam over the king sized bed. But there’s one you can make a reality right now. The whole reason you came in here. You grab one of his silk pillows and wrap his shirt around it before placing it in the middle of the bed. You turn around to grab your Polaroid out of your bag and then crawl onto the mattress, mounting the pillow. You don’t bother taking your fuzzy platform heels off either, he can sleep on the grime from the bottom of your shoes along with the juices from your pussy for all you care.

You start off slow, running your hands along your body, groping your tits through the faux leather of your dress, imagining that they’re Rafe’s much larger hands. It doesn’t take you long to get worked up, your juices starting to make the cloth underneath you slick. You're so wet that when you start to jerk your hips back and forth on the pillow that you practically glide. The lace of your thong gets pulled tighter, adding extra pressure to your puffy clit. Your dress rides up your hips, revealing your ass and the plush of your thighs as your hips start to speed up. Once you start to really get into it you pull your panties to the side and yank the zipper that goes all the way down the front of your dress down your chest so your tits can spill out. You switch up the movement of your hips every few moments, rotating between using the pillow for leverage and running your hands down your body.

You start to get so lost in the throes of pleasure you almost forget where you are entirely until your white sock covered shin smacks against your pink polaroid camera. You smirk to yourself in remembrance as you pluck it from the bed and turn it on. You hold it above yourself while you press your tits together and spread your legs far enough to show your mound on top of his shirt and snap a photo. You take more than one this time, using almost the entire roll taking pictures of your body from various angles. You shove your fingers in your mouth. Take photos of your tiny thong string nestled between your ass. You even take one with his shirt held up between your teeth. That ends up being the last photo because the smell of his cologne hits your nostrils and it has you inhaling deeply while your hips start to subconsciously grind down again.

Rafe practically felt like a madman as he tried for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes to get out of this conversation with your father and their business partner. Every single time he tried to slip away he was pulled back in somehow. But that didn’t stop his eyes from traveling to the tantalizing view on his phone screen every ten seconds. He felt like a cat who caught a mouse it’s been chasing for months. All without even trying. You lead yourself into a trap he didn’t even set and it couldn’t be more fucking perfect. The fact that you had no idea that his entire house was bugged with cameras that he could see directly in the palm of his hand made his cock twitch. Rafe checked his phone the minute he got the notification that someone was unlocking his bedroom door, ready to send security up there to grab a thief. But he was oh so pleasantly surprised when he saw it was you. You weren’t like any of the other girls he’s ever seen in all his time living on this island. Your platform shoes and dark make-up were utterly enticing to him and your bratty attitude made him want to bend you over his knee until you cried. He also knew you were a naughty girl, with a dirty little secret only he knew. Rafe’s obsession for you only grew by the day and now it was at an all time high.

He decided to let it play out for a bit. He watched as you surveyed his blank walls and rummaged through his drawers. Then you made your way into the bathroom and he watched as you greedily inhaled his colognes and body washes. You went into his closet and somehow unlocked his jewelry case. He’d have to figure out how you managed to learn his key codes later. His heartbeat sped up when you reached for the second drawer but the way you looked down at the trophies you had ever so graciously gifted him with elation only made his appetite for you nearly unbearable. What really sent him over the edge though was how you were currently strandling his pillow as you bucked your hips with his shirt held to your nose.

The entire scene had him losing his mind with lust and you just kept taking it further. He watched you pull your tits out, the way you took all those slutty pictures for him and he wished more than anything in the world he could turn his phone up to full volume so he could hear the pretty little moans leaving your lips. He could tell from the avid speed of your hips and the way your eyes are rolled back that you’re close to your end and he’ll be damned if he isn’t there to see it. He finally excuses himself under the guise of having to go to the bathroom and slips up the large staircase with ease.

You're so close. The pace of your hips is so quick that the entire bed shakes underneath you as delicious euphoria is seconds away. You have the corner of Rafe’s shirt grasped tightly in your fist as you hold it up to your nose. The cloth is pulled taunt against your clit just right, drool drips down your chin onto the black material as you take in Rafe’s scent. Heat washes over you and you moan with reckless abandon, too lost in your tidal wave of an orgasm to care if anyone can hear you.

“I knew you were a dirty girl, but this is even better than anything my mind ever could’a dreamed up…” The sound of Rafe’s voice makes you practically scream and you clutch his shirt over your chest on instinct. Your entire body heats as you take in his large form leaning against the closed bedroom door. His arms are crossed and he has probably the most smug smirk you’ve ever seen in your life painted on his face as he looks over at you through hooded eyes.

“Rafe! I - aren’t you supposed to be hosting a party?” You scoff and roll your eyes, clearly trying to change the subject when you’re the one who broke into his room.

“Well… you see…” Rafe stalks over to you like a predator that caught his prey and stops at the end of the bed. He places his large hands on the mattress so he can lean down only inches from your face, his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as his eyes travel down your body before connecting with your own. “This little unassuming mouse wandered into my den without even considering that I have eyes on every inch of this house.”

“How - how long have you been watching?” You clutch onto the shirt tighter, hiding your boobs and bare pussy even though he’s already seen both on multiple occasions. Something about him knowing it was you was making you suddenly nervous.

“Oh, sweetheart, I get a notification when someone opens that door… I saw everything. What do we have here?” His eyes are blue fire as they land on the Polaroids and he picks one up with delight before picking up another and another until he’s seen every single one. He sets them aside in a neat stack before abruptly gripping onto the shirt covering you and ripping it down your body with a growl. You gasp in surprise and use your arms to cover your nipples while slamming your legs shut. “Oh, no, none of that. Don’t get all shy on me now, I’ve already seen it all.” Rafe grabs the pillow and pulls it from underneath you causing you to fall backwards on the bed onto your ass. “Would you look at that…” He looks down at the pillow with hungry fascination as a low groan rumbles through his chest. You watch as he runs the pad of his finger through the creamy wetness before bringing it to his mouth and holding eye contact with you as he sucks it between his lips. His eyes immediately roll back when your taste hits his tongue. “Fuckin’ delicious. But I’m always tastin’ you secondhand.. I can’t wait to taste that sweet pussy directly from the source.”

You’re utterly stunned for a moment. You look up at him with your jaw hanging open while you do your best to cover your most intimate parts when all you want to do is throw your legs open and fully submit to him. You always told yourself if he ever caught you that you would make him work for it. But with the way he’s looking at you now? You can already feel yourself slipping and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Who - who said I was going to let you taste me? And what do you mean secondhand?” You tried to say it in a biting tone but your voice squeaks and betrays your facade immediately.

“Oh, little mouse… this little back and forth we’ve been playing has been fun and all. But now you’ve wandered right into my bed and I’m done playing games.” Rafe abruptly grabs onto your ankles, pulling you down to the edge of the bed until your feet are dangling off and you try to pull your knees together again but he grips onto them and pulls them back open. “Quit hiding from me.”

His hands grip tightly onto the meat of your thighs, the gold rings on his fingers pinching your skin in a way that has you holding back a moan. The look in Rafe’s eyes is nearly animalistic as he stares down at your puffy, wet pussy. Your little black thong pushed to the side, covered in creamy, white juices. His fingertips travel down your legs gripping hard enough to bruise with every inch. He brings his thumbs to the crevices of your thighs and presses his fingers hard on either side of your folds, pushing your pussy lips together. You can’t hold in the tiny mewl that leaves the back of your throat. He punches your slick cunt together roughly a few times before pulling you apart. Your pussy clicks for him from your wetness as he pulls you open.

“Been waiting for this moment, ya know?” Rafe runs his thumb along your slit, gathering your wetness before bringing his thumbs to rub along the sides of your lips, teasing you. “I knew it was you. I had my suspicions from the beginning. Ever since you walked in on me in the bathroom…”

“How?” Your voice is a broken whisper, any thoughts of fighting back slipping further and further from your mind. Embarrassingly enough, you feel like you could come from just this.

“Well, I was almost positive after that cute little cherry thong…” Rafe grazes over your clit for just a moment before going back to teasing you. “Earlier that day you were wearing these sexy little jeans and when you bent over I got a view of that same thong. Then, to my surprise, the very same pair ended up in my office later that day.” He presses hard on your clit, giving it a few strokes and you think his teasing has finally come to an end but as soon as it’s there, it’s gone. And he goes back to teasing your pussy tantalizingly. “But then, about a week later I saw you sneaking out of my office and I decided to let you get away with it.”

“You decided?” You push yourself up on your elbows and scoff with your eyebrow raised, your irritation with him returning. Rafe just smirks before shoving his thumb knuckle deep in your pussy and curving it against your walls. It makes your eyes roll back while you wriggle underneath him.

“Yes, princess, I decided.” His other thumb presses on your clit hard but doesn’t move. “Once I was positive it was you, I wasn’t ready for it to stop. Especially once you started leaving those little pictures for me. Who knew you were such a dirty slut.” He pulls his fingers from you before landing a harsh smack on your clit causing you to yelp.

“So you knew it was me and didn’t say anything? And then proceeded to keep them in a treasure box and jerk off all over them? Pervert.” Rafe slaps your pussy again, three times in succession.

“Stop being a fuckin’ brat. If I’m a pervert, what does that make you, huh?” He slaps your pussy even harder and then brings both of his hands down on your inner thighs with a loud smack. “Leaving me your panties, takin’ dirty photos for me, I saw you inhaling my cologne like it was a line of coke. And now I caught you in my bed, coming all over my pillow. You’re a nasty. Little. Girl.” He punctuates each word with a slap to your cunt and you can’t help but moan loudly for him.

“Yeah? Well you’re a nasty old man.” Your chest heaves but you still manage to paint a cheshire smirk on your face, your eyes twinkling with mischief as you use the last of your resolve against him.

“You know what? I’m sick of your bratty fuckin’ mouth.” Rafe grips onto the thin strings of your panties and pulls them down your legs before balling them up and shoving them in your mouth. The sudden intrusion makes you gag, but it’s not unwelcome. The act of dominance and the taste of yourself on your tongue has any and all attitude in you evaporating from your body. He grabs your chin and roughly shakes your head side to side. “That’s better. You gonna be a good girl and let me taste that perfect cunt now or do I need to beat the attitude out of you?”

You moan around the lace in your mouth and drop your knees to the sides, offering yourself to him. Rafe looks at you devilishly as he lays on his stomach on the mattress and throws your legs over his shoulders. He runs his nose along your inner thigh as he takes in your sweet scent before hovering over your pussy and inhaling deeply.

“Smell so fuckin’ sweet, bet you taste even sweeter.” The flat Rafe’s runs through your folds up to your clit before circling it a few times. He nips it with his teeth and shoves his tongue as far as it can go inside of you causing you to cry out and arch your back off the mattress.

“Quit wiggling.” Rafe growls into your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. His large hand splay on your hip, holding you down as he eats you like a man starved. He circles two fingers at your entrance before pressing them knuckle deep inside of you. He caresses your sweet spot while sucking your clit into his mouth and it has an explosion of pleasure washing over your body as your orgasm consumes you.

Rafe pulls off of you when you come down from your high and brings the fingers that were just inside you to his chin dripping with your juices. He smears it around before sucking his fingers clean, groaning like he just ate the best meal of his life. He leans forward and plucks the panties from your mouth before slamming his lips against yours. The kiss is dominating and he shoves his tongue deep into your mouth, swirling it around and coating your taste buds with your own cum. He leans back to admire you and he feels like his cock is going to burst. Your hair is a mess, your dark lipstick is smudged and slick, and the zipper on that tight little dress is barely hanging on. Your tits are on full display as you lay like a perverted little angel with your legs spread beneath him.

“God damn. I’ve gotta fuck that pussy, baby.” Rafe pulls the zipper of your dress the rest of the way down before leaning up on his knees and reaching for the buttons on his shirt. “Take that shit off. Leave the socks and shoes though.”

He licks his lips as he continues to unbutton his shirt while his eyes practically swallow you whole. You quickly rid yourself of your dress and push yourself up onto your knees to watch him undress. You have to stop yourself from jumping him when he gets his shirt all the way off, his perfectly toned body towering over you. When he gets his pants down enough to get his cock out you can’t even hold in your gasp. He’s huge. So thick you aren’t sure you could wrap a single hand around him and so long that you aren’t sure if you could take him all down your throat.

“Fuck. I don’t know if that’s going to fit…” Your eyes are the sizes of saucers as you stare at his cock with your jaw slack. Those words make Rafe feel like he’s going to go insane and his hand flies to your hair, grasping onto it at the nape of your neck and yanking your head back.

“Oh, it’ll fit.” His tongue slides over his teeth and he takes his shaft in his hand so he can rub his precum along your lips, adding to the mess. Rafe uses his grip on your head to manhandle you onto your back before throwing your legs over his shoulders. He smirks down at you while he pumps himself in his hand. “You want it?”

“Yes, fuck. I want it so bad.” You tilt your hips towards him searching for any kind of friction but his hand presses down on your hip, stilling your movements.

“Oh, come on, baby doll. You can do better than that. How bad do you want it?” He taps the head of his cock against your clit a few times before running it through your folds. You try to angle your hips to push him further inside of you and he just tuts at you like you did something naughty before pulling his cock away entirely. “Let me hear it, beg.”

“Please, daddy, I want it so bad.” Rafe breathes out heavily through his nostrils and grips onto your throat, leaning down so his face is inches from yours.

“Oh, little mouse.. you’re just full of surprises, huh? I don’t think you know what you’ve done.” Rafe chuckles darkly and leans back up onto his knees, positioning his cock at your entrance. He presses his head into you and he’s so thick you already feel so full by the time he’s only a few inches in.

“Oh, god. I don’t - I really don’t know if it’s all going to fit.” The air is nearly taken out of your lungs when he thrusts his hips forward and you’re sure he’s all the way inside of you now but he pulls almost all the way out before slamming his cock into you to the hilt with his hips flush against yours. “Holy shit, oh my god.”

“I thought you wanted it so bad, now you’re whining that it won’t fit? I’m gonna fuckin’ make it fit and you’re gonna take it like the dirty little slut you are.” Rafe rams his hips into yours at a brutal pace as he grips onto your throat again and squeezes tightly. His free hand comes to rub circles on your clit and it makes your vision blur. “Yeah fuckin, take it. You gonna come for me? I can feel your pussy squeezing me. You’re so fuckin’ tight.”

“Yes, fuck daddy, please make me cum.” Your voice is a broken sob as your makeup smears messily down your face. “I’m so fucking full.”

“Yeah, that’s right, sweet thing. Give me your cum.” That’s all it takes to have an all consuming orgasm washing over you. Your walls convulse around Rafe’s thick length and he picks up his thrusts, chasing his own high. He uses his grip on your throat to press you down into the mattress and your legs fall down onto his hips. You lace them around him and this new angle has him hitting so deep you swear you’re going to feel him for days. The hand not on your throat hooks onto your bottom teeth, pulling your jaw open so he can spit on your tongue. You swallow without asking and then suck his fingers into your mouth greedily.

“You’re so fuckin’ nasty, ya know that? Letting your dad’s boss fuck you till you cry while he’s right down stairs. Leaving me your little fuckin’ panties. This perfect god damn pussy.” Rafe is babbling like a man possessed as he pumps into you hard and deep until his cock starts to twitch inside you. He growls as he fills you with ropes of his cum. When he pulls out you feel nearly hollow and then he shoves his fingers knuckle deep inside of you, collecting some of his cum on his fingers. You pull his hand back to your mouth and lick his fingers, moaning at your combined tastes.

“Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you, little mouse.” Rafe stares down at you with a hunger that’s laced with obsession and you don’t even care because you’re just as obsessed as he is. “You’re mine now.”

Taglist: @nemesyaaa @strawberrydolly333 @sturnioloshacker @loserboysandlithium @gri959 @rafeinterlude @xoxohoneymoongirl @tacymbcm @bunnies-p1tst0p @starkeysprincess

Dividers by @anitalenia

[kiplex]

✧ Thinking abt Lover boy Caleb ✧

Lover boy Caleb x F reader

NSFW, Minors DNI

Tags: Lover boy Caleb, yearning?? Kinda??, established relationship, mentions of body marks ie: scars, stretch marks ect., a splash of smut towards the end, mentions of overstimulation, mentions of cøçk warming, not proof read lol

A/N: Hi all!! Okay so I'm working on a drunk Caleb fic but it's taking a lot longer than I expected... So here's a little snack to hold you over. I also have a Caleb and Gideon fic in the works 👀 as well as some Zayne HCs so please stay tuned! If you wanna send me a request my requests are open!!

Shout out to sserene_m on TikTok for the pose idea for the Caleb photo

Lover boy Caleb who crumbles anytime you initiate any sort of intimacy with him. Your fingertips graze his to hold his hand? He's fighting back tears of joy.

Lover boy Caleb who refers to you as “his wife" despite not being married. All his subordinates know you as “Caleb's wife." And honestly you can't really be too mad at that.

Lover boy Caleb who refuses to let you pay for anything. He's fully aware you're self-sufficient, but can't bear the thought of you spending your money on a sweet treat that he could easily buy for you.

Lover boy Caleb who is attached to your hip at all times. You're going to the store? Cool he'll drive. Do you have a doctor's appointment? That's fine he'll be there for morale support. He can't stand the thought of being away from you :((

Lover boy Caleb who’s phone lock screen is a collage of candid photos of you. He couldn't just choose one!? How could he!?

Lover boy Caleb who is the first to fold in an argument. It isn't because he feels bad, it's a combination of him not being able to stand the fact you're mad at him and how cute you look when you pout.

Lover boy Caleb who kisses you like it could be the last time everytime. Sometimes soft and slow, sometimes desperate and fast, but savors it regardless of the pace.

Lover boy Caleb who secretly buys your perfume and sprays it on his sleeves when he misses you because it makes him feel closer to you :((

Lover boy Caleb who loves tracing your scars, stretch marks, connecting freckles or moles like a game of connect the dots. He loves everything about you that makes you you.

Lover boy Caleb who is a pleasure dom at heart. He swears he can't cum until you've came at least twice. In reality he's fighting off an orgasm anytime he feels your snug walls clamp down around his thick cock

Lover boy Caleb who could go down on you forever if you'd let him. He loves the way you squeeze your legs around his head when you're on the brink over overstimulation because he doesn't give your poor cunt a break <\3

Lover boy Caleb loooooves cock warming. Not even in a sexual manner sometimes, just being connected to you in such a way makes him dizzy.

Lover boy Caleb who is actually the king of after care. He'll wipe you down, kissing you all over. Alternatively he'll run you a bath. He'll have snacks ready, and if you aren't in the mood to eat he'll get you all snuggled up beside him as he holds you like his life depends on it.

You can find my master list here

[breelandwalker]

Magical Oil Recipes - Protection and Warding Edition

For anyone looking to brew up some magical protections or enhance their current warding measures, here are some recipes I’ve created that you might find useful.

To prepare them, blend the ingredients in such proportions as feels correct for your purposes (or as supplies allow). Use dried material except where indicated. Place a few spoonfuls in a mason jar with a screwtop lid and fill the jar with a bland oil of your choice. (Vegetable oil of the sort you would buy for cooking works fine.) Screw the lid on tightly and shake well to combine, then leave the jar in a dark dry place for 2-4 weeks to steep.

Once steeped, prepare a clean storage bottle (also with a secure lid) and label with the type of oil and the bottling date. Strain the oil through paper towels or cheesecloth to remove the plant material, then bottle immediately. Store away from sunlight and heat for up to one year. Use for spellwork as you see fit.

(Please note that NONE of these potions are meant to be taken internally by any means. Observe all proper safety measures related to glass, fire, and potentially harmful plants as necessary during preparation.)

*- Ingredient is potentially harmful if inhaled or ingested. **- Ingredient should not be used or handled if you are pregnant or nursing.

All-Purpose Blessing Oil For blessing, purification, and consecration.

Lavender

Sweet Basil

Bay Leaf

Patchouli Note: Use Olive Oil for the base.

All-Purpose Hexbreaking Oil For general negation of baneful spells cast by oneself or others.

Agrimony**

Cinquefoil

Fennel

Vervain

Solomon's Seal Root in master bottle

And Stay Out Ward Refresher Oil For strengthening household protections between castings.

Sarsaparilla

Oakmoss

Horehound

Sweet Basil

Banned From The Premises Banishing Oil For anointing doorways and banishing unwanted persons.

Oregano

Rosemary

Lemon Peel

Thyme

Blue Moon Curse Reversal Oil For turning and countering baneful magic.

Angelica Root

Lemon Verbena

Motherwort**

Elderberries*

Change the Locks Protection Oil For protection of the home from banished persons.

Cumin

Oregano

Rosemary

Thistle

Cradlekeeper Child Protection Oil For protection of infants and young children.

Daisies (any color)

Flax Seeds

Caraway Seeds

Lamb's Ear Leaf Note: Use to anoint the lintel of the door to the child's room.

No Soliciting Front Door Oil To keep unwanted visitors away from your home.

Ivy Leaves

Sweet Basil

Blueberry Leaf

Juniper Berries Note: Apply to your front door or threshold.

Safe Space Protection Oil To help one find sanctuary when it is most needed.

Blackberry Leaf (or Tea)

Allspice Berries

Fennel Tops

Clover Leaves and Blossoms

The Shielding Light Protection Oil For passive protective magics.

Caraway Seeds

Eucalyptus Leaf**

Lavender

Vervain Note: Passive protection magic functions as a shield, rebuffing or neutralizing harm. It is good for long-term spells that don't require much energy or maintenance.

The Shining Dark Protection Oil For active protective magics.

Coconut Husk

Thistle Leaf

Witch Hazel**

Angelica Root Note: Active protection magic functions as a sword, strongly deflecting or fending off harm. This is best for short-term or immediate-use spells that are not meant to last, but must kick in very strongly and very quickly. Excellent for emergency personal protections.

The Sorcerer's Tower Protection Oil To protect your witchy supplies and workspace from interlopers.

Juniper Sprigs or Berries

Blueberry Leaf

Thistle

Astragalus Root Note: Works best alongside mundane secrecy and privacy measures. To avoid damage, anoint containers, furniture, and doors rather than items. Do not use directly on books as it may damage delicate paper or covers. Use with caution on unfinished wood.

Thorn in the Door Warding Oil To discourage unfriendly witches from entering your home.

Rosemary

Bay Leaf

Sage (any color)

Solomon's Seal Root

Rose Stem (with thorns) in master bottle

Walking Ward Protection Oil For personal warding spells of all kinds.

Sweet Basil

Witch Hazel**

Fennel Sprigs Note: This works for both active and passive protection magics and may be used in conjunction other protective oils.

Wanderlust Traveling Oil For all-purpose protection and luck while traveling.

Feverfew

Cinquefoil

Witch Hazel**

Spearmint

Should the reader require supplies, I recommend the following:

Penn Herb Company

Starwest Botanicals

Bulk Apothecary

Mountain Rose Herbs

Specialty Bottle

Photo Credit - Shaiith

All recipes are © 2017 Bree NicGarran, published in Pestlework: A Book of Magical Powders & Oils. Please check out the book if you would like more recipes.

If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar, tune in to my podcast Hex Positive, or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop.

[neros-left-pec]

PLAYING INFINITY NIKKI WITH THE DMC MEN

🌷 pairings: dmc men x fem!reader 🌷 warnings/tags: just fluff + probably OOC 🌷 author's note: i have really bad dmc brainrot but ive never even played the games (don't ask how this happened) LOL. i kinda see these as crack hcs since im not actually familiar with their canon personalities but i hope u can enjoy it regardless!

NERO SPARDA

you've been gone for a huge part of the day, so he starts looking around devil may cry for you. he finds you at your desktop looking VERY engrossed with what you're doing

doing his best to not alert you, he sneaks up behind you. it seems a cute video game has caught your attention, and you're playing dress-up...?

"Wait, each power lets her use a new dress? How does she change so fast?"

thinks it's ridiculous at first, but similar to Vergil he gets weirdly addicted to helping you pick the best scoring combinations

unlike Vergil, he is not very good at it. but he will try his best

"Okay okay, go with the lace gloves, TRUST ME. It's tagged as elegance which is what you need."

like dante, he is convinced he knows what he's talking about, but definitely gets pissed every time his outfits don't work out

"What the fuck, this is impossible! I thought this game was for babies!"

no nero, this game is not for babies. you need to lock in.

one day, you surprise him by coming home in an outfit eerily similar to one he had made for you in the game last week.

gets very visibly flustered when he sees you model it.

it suits you incredibly well and is very tailored to his tastes, since, well, he was the one who made the outfit after all!

he saves up a bit of money and takes you on a shopping spree. he must see you in more outfits

YOU GUYS ARE PLAYING DRESS TO IMPRESS IRL!!!!!

side note but i feel like he would go crazy if he saw you wearing black high heels. he loves black on you

DANTE SPARDA

"So it's like dress-up... but with boss fights? Kinda kickass if you ask me."

he tries to help you pick an outfit but always makes the WORST combinations EVER. the outfits colors never match and he makes you wear ugly boots with a pretty dress or something lol

is convinced he is a master fashion designer

"Look at me, I'm adorable as hell!"

not really too interested in the game itself but he likes seeing how into it you get. you get very invested in the story and he finds it adorable. you have a simple heart and he loves you for it

asks you to show off your outfits

"C'mon, spin around. Pose for me, dear! ...Oh yeah that's very nice, I quite like it honestly. You've got some talent, huh?"

sometimes he thinks about how cute you would look in pastels and gets a bit distracted. his brows furrow, a soft blush dusting his cheeks as he hides a smile behind his hand.

with his mouth covered, it actually kinda looks like he's grimacing, which is hilarious. he'll often start daydreaming about you and get flustered. others will see him and think he's pissed off because of the tense expression. if only they knew about the big smile that was hidden behind his hand

VERGIL SPARDA

he does not understand why you are stressing about losing a "style battle," whatever that meant

he stares at your screen with his arms crossed.

"So foolish..." FOOLISHNESS, Y/N. FOOLISHNESS----

watches silently. secretly enjoys watching you get worked up over something so silly

you ask him for styling advice and using the clothing stats, builds you the most min-maxxed outfit for the style battles. quickly learned the numbers have to do with if you win or not. however, he somehow manages to make them also look gorgeous at the same time (IF YOU PLAY INFINITY NIKKI YOU KNOW HOW HARD THIS IS). he does it to make you happy since you hate ugly outfits

after a while, he gets kinda into it

"No, that shade of mauve does not go with the rest of the outfit... Even the most untrained eye would know that a lady's shoes must match with her bag."

YOU STARE AT HIM....

he looks to the side and walks away.

damn him!

secretly makes a note to buy you a cute ensemble to wear to your next date

he will get rid of the price tags and fold them into your drawers so you happen across them

he will never admit he bought it but you know it was him

and of course, he buys you a bag with matching flats/heels depending on your preference :)

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ MEET ME IN THE AFTERGLOW ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ post-sukuna fight: no victory comes without a loss, and his win came at the cost of his eyesight

contents: fem!reader. some combination of hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff.

author's note: inspired by levi at the end of aot ꨄ︎

7:58 PM

satoru gojo had always had the best eyes. sorcerer, curse, human – you could search the whole world, and nobody else would even come close.

but the aftermath of satoru's fight with sukuna changed everything. after a long, painful battle, satoru came out on top, but at a great cost. his eyes.

dying wishes are powerful, especially from a curse as strong as sukuna. right before the king of curses was done for, he pooled everything he had left into a final attack to ensure that satoru gojo would never be the same. he succeeded.

now, almost a week after the fight, long after the dust settled and peace had reclaimed the jujutsu society, satoru still insists on wearing his blindfold around the clock.

no matter what you try or how you ask, he stubbornly refuses let you see underneath. actually, it'd be more accurate to say that he doesn't respond at all. after all, to your dismay, he's a master at avoiding questions and delaying answers.

you weren't even sure if there was any change to how he looked. maybe he looked the exact same underneath. maybe he had a couple scars. fuck, for all you knew he didn't even have eyes at all anymore.

you just wish he would let you see the new him. he doesn't even have it that bad – thanks to six-eyes, he can still see the silhouettes of cursed energy. and he wore a blindfold most days anyway, so it wasn't too much of a change.

which is why you weren't sure why he wouldn't just take the damn blindfold off.

"satoru, please let me see," you beg, tugging at his shirt sleeve. "i miss your pretty face. and honestly, who wears a blindfold to bed?"

he laughs at your incredulous question, but it sounds forced and unnatural. satoru tugs his arm away and waves you off. "let me take a shower, 'kay? i just got out of work, and i'm probably covered in germs."

you hate this new satoru – the one who won't let you get too close or even see his face anymore. he just won't open up to you, and it's frustrating. "satoru, please? let me in."

at the sound of your pleading voice, satoru rests one hand on the bathroom door and sighs before turning around to face you. he's smiling, but it seems so off – like all his smiles do nowadays.

"you try'n to watch me shower, sweetheart?" he cracks, running a hand through his hair. "i know you love seeing me naked, but-"

"satoru." 

"get off my dick," he grumbles lightly, before strolling into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. maybe you imagine it, but you could swear that you hear the soft click of a lock turning.

10:34 PM

"good night, sweetheart," satoru mumbles, pressing his lips to your shoulder and rolling over onto his side. he still has his blindfold on, and the almost undetectable glow eminating from his skin shows that he has a very subtle form of limitless active.

it's been like this every night.

"satoru, can we talk?" you whisper, trailing a hand through his damp white hair. "please?"

"is it about the blindfold?"

"obviously."

he sighs and rolls over again to face you, the soft glow fading from his skin. "give it a rest, yeah?" he says, exasperated. "i'm not ready for anyone to see."

"satoru, even you don't know what your eyes look like under the blindfold," you murmur. "and do you really trust me that little?"

he lifts one of his hands and rests it on your shoulder, thumb tracing circles as he leans in and says "of course i trust you."

you shake your head and sit up, pressing your back against the headboard. "no, you don't."

"then why'd you as-"

"why do you sleep with limitless on now?" you interject, crossing your arms. "what happened to 'i never have limitless on around you'?" you whisper, quoting something he told you when you two first starting dating. back when he could look you in the eye.

satoru sighs again and sits up alongside you. "you know why."

"you seriously think i'd do that?"

"i..." he trails off, slipping a finger underneath his blindfold to rub one of his eyes. "i don't know. all i know is that i'm not ready for anyone to see me like... this." 

"satoru, you can't keep running away from everyone forever," you say, shaking your head again. "you-"

"i know, i know," he mutters. "it's not that simple."

he's stubborn – he always has been. and you're mostly used to it, which is why you know that the best way to get satoru to change his mind on something is to ease him into it instead of pushing and shoving.

so you switch gears, and instead of arguing more you reach out and take his hand. "what are you afraid of?"

"nothing. i'm the strongest," satoru replies automatically. the response sounds so automated, so pre-written that you can't help but smile. 

"okay," you say neutrally, trying to reword your question. "why don't you want to show me what your eyes look like? you've haven't even seen them yourself."

satoru smiles sourly and his hands curl into white-knuckled fists around the bedsheets. "and i never will. i'm blind now, remember, sweetheart?" his words are laced with bitterness, even (and especially) in the final word. 

but it wasn't you who satoru was resentful towards. it was himself. 

how could he have so foolishly let down his guard before sukuna was confirmed to be dead? how could he let his characteristic arrogance get the better of him? he made the same mistake when he was a teen, and now he's done it again as the strongest – although this event may have stripped him of his title.

a mixture of emotions crosses what little you can see of his face, and it's now more than ever that you wish you could be there for him. 

but he's the only one alive who knows what it's like to be the strongest.

so as much as you wish you could tell him that everything's going to be okay and that he'll always be the strongest, you know damn well that you don't know and that he might not be.

somehow, this conversation has evolved from your desire to see his face to something more.

a silent, mutual understanding passes between you and satoru, and the thickness in the air slowly dissolves. 

"sorry," you breathe. "i was being selfish, wasn't i?"

satoru shakes his head, a smile growing on his face. "nah, you're right. i don't even know what i look like."

he lifts a hand and slips his thumb underneath his blindfold, and after a brief moment of hesitation, slides it off.

to your surprise, satoru looks more or less the same. his eyes aren't cloudy and they still glow with that familiar bright blue. the only difference, which was expected, was how his eyes didn't quite settle on you. they were pointed in your direction, but his eyes didn't entirely focus on you.

"so?" satoru asks, running a finger over his eyes. "how bad is it?"

"satoru, you look the same."

he blinks and doesn't answer for a second, as if he's processing the information. "really?" he asks, an unreadable expression on his face.

"yep."

"oh. well, that was anticlimactic," satoru says with a lopsided grin. he leans forward and scoots down from his spot against the headboard, laying his head on a pillow and pulling you on top of his chest. "my bad."

"you idiot," you mumble, pressing your face into his neck. "i didn't get to see your pretty face for a whole week."

"ah, i believe it was only six days."

"and satoru, you even turned on limitless at night! the hell would i even do? cut your blindfold off in the middle of the night?" you grumble, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. "and i can't believe that the only reason you didn't want to show me your face is because you thought you weren't pretty anymore!"

satoru grins lazily and rests one of his hands on your waist, slipping a finger under the waistband of your shorts and idly rubbing your skin.  "keep venting, sweetheart. it's cute."

he laughs when you swat him with another pillow and pulls you in for a long kiss. and that's when you know that things might never go back to how they were in satoru's glory days. 

but as the night falls and slips away in satoru's arms, you think that maybe, just maybe, this works too.

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[starry-bi-sky]

Danielle and Danyal's meeting... very, very quickly goes very sour from, basically, the moment Danny steps into his room and finds Ellie sitting on his bed (strike one) and reading the comic books Tucker introduced him to (strike two). By the time she's looked up to address him, Danny has the door locked, and a hand hovering near the knife hidden under his shirt.

She gets her third strike when Danny, in a voice that could make the mountains tremble, demands to know how she got into his room, and she lies (with uncertainty of her decision growing in her chest) that Jazz let her in. Danny's hand shifts closer to his weapon, and he turns towards her fully, and says that Jazz would never let someone he didn’t know into his room, and who was she.

(Vlad Masters had underprepared Danielle for her meeting with Danny -- not out of any completely direct malicious intent, but he failed to mention just how... 'touchy' Daniel could be -- he failed to mention the scars littering up his arms, unhidden by the hoodie tee he meets Ellie in. He failed to mention that along with those scars, that Danny was visibly lean, capable of doing very real damage without the use of his powers.)

(He tells Ellie that he’s adopted, and that he is observant and clever, but ungrateful and has a bad attitude.)

Her final strike occurs when Ellie, trying to keep her facade of cheeriness, tells him that she’s his third cousin once removed. Immediately, Danny has his dagger pulled out, and Ellie finds herself with the cold metal of a blade pressing against her throat.

Danyal 'A.G' Fenton hasn’t killed since he arrived in Amity Park. At first it was because mother told him to keep a low profile, and killing would do the opposite of that. But, he's been slowly learning from his sister and friends over the years the value of human life. So it's become a combination of keeping his head down, and also that life has value to it.

But. That doesn’t mean he can’t kill, nor is he opposed to doing it if the situation calls for it. It just means that he doesn't do it. And ‘Danielle’ is an unknown in his room, claiming to be family to him, and appearing uncannily similar to him and his family. Either someone hired her and she was trying to pass herself off as a relative to him because that someone realized Danny was the biggest threat, or, his false death has been compromised, his mother was unable to tell him, and the league was aware he was alive.

No matter how he looks at it, this Danielle was a threat to him, his sister, his friends, to Damian, and to the Drs. Fenton. Danyal Fenton doesn't kill, but he has no problems doing so.

(Ellie, pinned under Danny’s knee and the blade to her neck, is too terrified to think of phasing out of his hold. Not that it would help, he would just chase after her.)

“You have broken into my home, dared to lie to my face, and when I demanded to know the truth, you dared lie to me again." Danny's scowl could cower even Skulker, his glacier blue eyes burning. "Your continual breath has been a favor from me, that I have graciously allowed, from the moment you entered my room, dahkil."

"So I will ask one more time," he hisses, "who. are. you."

Danielle, only a few months old, unprepared for the ice storm that is "Daniel" Fenton, and his clone in only flesh and blood, and not memories, immediately breaks. And tells him that she was his clone, that Vlad sent her to come capture him, and to please not kill her.

Danny's face twists with anger, Ellie thinks he's going to kill her anyways. Instead, he withdraws his knife and gets off her, stringing out curses in Arabic as he sheathes his weapon back into its hiding place faster than Ellie can blink.

He switches to English as she is collecting her bearings (and contemplating fleeing), and Danny paces the room like a tiger in a cage. "--of course that wretched, arrogant, peacocking little ingrate would do something so infuriating. I should have driven my sword into the shrivel of his heart when I had the chance--"

Ellie, for a moment, thinks of leaving while he is distracted. And starts to slowly creep away. But Danny notices instantly, and whirls on her. His too-bright eyes bore into her head: "Where do you think you're going."

"...I'm leaving."

And Danny scoffs at her, "Why? So you can fly back to Masters and tell him that you failed to capture me, and that I know that he cloned me?" He says, and Ellie remains silent -- that's exactly what she was going to do. "He will destroy you within seconds."

Of course, Ellie rears back in offense, and she finds the footing to glare at him. "He would not! He's my dad, he loves me!"

Danny gets in her face, glowering back with an equal intensity. "He does not." He snaps, "Vlad Masters has not a soul in his body nor a heart in his chest. He would sooner cut off the hand that helps him stand, than to take it along with him."

"If you're really made of my blood, then I will teach you only this: we bow not our heads nor our hearts to anyone." Danny's too-blue eyes narrow, and his voice dips into a hiss, "Especially not to a conniving snake like Masters. Your heart: cut it off, or cut it out. He will sooner leave you to bleed."

Then, he unlocks the door and drags her out before she has much time to act. And as he drags her down the hall he shoots Sam and Tucker a text, and they meet up at Nasty Burger. Ellie is a spitfire, but Danny has her too intimidated to leave.

"This is Danielle," he tells them bluntly as he corners her into the booth, "she's my clone. Masters created her."

Ellie is with them for a week, and somehow throughout that time, Danny manages to actually get her to like him throughout that time. He's callous, blunt, and full of sharp edges that you can cut yourself on. But when he's not spitting venom, he's fretting.

When he drags her back to the house after being with Sam and Tucker, he pulls her to Jazz's room and opens the door to tell her the same thing. "This is Danielle." He says upon abruptly opening the door, interrupting Jazz's studying as he pulls Ellie inside. "She is my clone, Masters created her. She needs clothes."

Then he turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him. Ellie, in that moment, thinks that now's her chance to flee. But Jazz then squeals, and she is trapped in new arms, shaken around by Jazz Fenton, excited for a sister.

(Ellie finds herself complaining to Jazz that night, shoved into old pajamas. She's in utter disbelief that Jazz could care about a jerk like Danny.)

("He's rough around the edges, but Danny does care." Jazz tells her, combing through her hair with her fingers. "We've been working on it ever since he joined the family, but Danny warms up slowly. He's usually less stoney; I think your arrival spooked him.")

("Spooked him?" Ellie repeats, she doesn't believe it at all. "He has a funny way of showing it, he threatened to kill me!" And she turns around just in time to see Jazz's press her lips into a line.)

("He's... very protective. He'll deny if you ask him, but he worries a lot." Jazz's fingers find her hair again. "What I do know for certain though, is that he wouldn't have kept you here if he wasn't worried about you at least a little bit.")

(Ellie doubts it.)

But Ellie is indeed there for a week, and the day after her initially rocky introduction with Danny, he is a little bit kinder to her. Still kinda a bitch, but he's less harsh to her, if... almost uncomfortable around her. Flighty, kinda.

Whenever she gets mouthy at him though, he looks oddly smug about it and, infuriatingly enough, praises her attitude. He is very, very annoying. And still kinda terrifying. But hearing him shout insults via puns at someone during a ghost fight that happens that week lessens the intimidating factor,,, a little bit.

Things go about,,,, relatively,,,, similar to canon. In the sense that it ends with Ellie defecting from Vlad because she finds out that Danny was right and that Vlad didn't actually care about her. (And that Jazz had been right too; Danny, in his weird, mean way, had been worried about her as well)

Danny looks out of his depth as she talks about how he was right, and he cuts her off with a vaguely uncomfortable clearing of his throat. And gives her the most awkward, but genuine apology he can muster.

"I should've used more tact when telling you about Masters, and I... apologize for threatening you when we met. I was..." he makes a face like he's sucked on a particularly sour lemon, "worried. First about my family, and then later about you."

(Ellie will be damned: Jazz was right)

Before Ellie leaves, Danny puts a hand on her shoulder and tells her: "I wasn't kidding about what I said to you when we first met: you are of my blood, and as such, you do not bow your head nor your heart to anyone."

Ellie looks at him, thinks about the last week, and smiles like she's caught him in a trap. "What about Sam and Tucker then? And Jazz?"

Danny smiles, it's awkward and tilted, like his face isn't used to the gesture. "We bow not our hearts, but that doesn't mean we can't share."

[controld3vil]

𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞

pairing(s): young!rhaenyra targaryen x velaryon!reader (can be read either as romantic/platonic) synopsis: Rhaenyra always seemed to like her position as the only dragon rider in King's Landing. Besides her uncle who rarely visits, she flys with Syrax whenever she can as proof of her imperial lineage. When word comes that you claimed Vermithor, the Bronze Fury, Rhaenyra becomes strangely jealous of your newfound attention.

notes: this takes place closely timeline-wise to the first season. cw: reader experiences a near-death incident, slight angst

Rhaenyra always felt at ease after riding with her dragon, Syrax. She had a distinctive bond with Syrax that no one could replicate. No one could discourage the truth. Her ancestors rode dragons and conquered the Seven Kingdoms. And rightfully so, as she acknowledges its power on the world. They were fierce beasts, little in number, but ferocious and praised as Gods to the people. The Princess of Dragonstone understood that well when she climbed off of Syrax’s saddle. Her golden scales glisten gloriously from the sunshine. 

She gleams brighter than before. Switching into a rich blonde gown, Rhaenyra rushes to the Court Council. Hoping none of the Councilmen would be bothered by her disturbed presence, the princess fixates on flattening down her silvery hair with her fingers. Combining through her tangled locks, the princess enters, drawing attention to haste and bewildered looks. 

“I was visiting Mother,” The Realm’s Delight she was named, smiled at her father, the King when asked about her whereabouts. She knew he would be displeased by the fact that she was dragon riding incredibly early. But she told the truth wholly. Rhaenyra did visit her mother. 

“On dragonback?” Viserys asked after catching a whiff of his daughter’s distinctive scent. It smelled of smoke and sea, resembling the dragon’s nature and their fiery breath. His daughter returns with a cheeky smile when she goes about to collect the pitcher, full of wine. There was much pride in the princess of her ancestral lineage. It was clear as histories can be able to tell of Old Valyria. A dragon was considered a rare delicacy despite having an abundance around the world. King’s Landing, Dragonstone, and Driftmark. Yet people did not consider them to be flesh and blood. Surprisingly, most were wild and had never been bonded with a dragon rider.

“Haven’t you heard? There was a sighting of the wild dragon, Vermithor along the coastlines of The High Tide,” Coryls Velaryon spouts, in cautiousness and weary. His clenched fist was unmistakable to Rhaenyra as he leaned forward with agitation. “My men are terrified, Your Grace. Surely we can think of a way to return the dragon’s course to Dragonstone.”

The silvery-haired girl looks to her father, King Viserys who beams with fazed delight. He thinks in light of the Master of Ship’s concerns. A dragon flies as it pleases. It did not flee far from Dragonstone as her familial home was a mile away from Driftmark itself. Eventually, Vermithor would have to return to rest. “And I’m sure he will return to Dragonstone when he deems it appropriate.” 

The lighthearted remark sparked some casual laughter from the table. A few lords shamelessly coughed between their coats while Hand to the King, Otto Hightower could only contemplate silently how to move the conversation to something more time-consuming. Rhaenyra has witnessed enough Council meetings to know that her father is restless. He never wanted to stay in the room for far too long before becoming disinterested in every political matter. What a dull position, she thought, to be the King of the Seven Kingdoms, you must abide by everyone's opinion and request. 

Rhaenyra traces her thumb around the handle of the pitcher. It’s glass and gold melded together. Its purity reflects wonderfully when she’s shown it to the light. As she strides around every seat of the table, the princess notices the little nuances each lord has. The old and cold pin of the Hand on Otto’s chest. The chainmail rings around Maester Mellos. And the rustic bronze rings Lord Corlys carried on his right hand. She recognizes why they are so distinctive now. 

“Nyra!”

It was like a bell went off in her mind when the Princess of Dragonstone blinked again. Now the Council meeting was left in their final moments. The doors that connected the room to the passive hallways opened, and flooded with the lords, one by one exiting. Well-mannered and poised was she when Rhaenyra placed the pitcher back onto the tabletop. Greeted by her father with a brief smile, she heard the sound of sweet nectar. Did you expect she did not hear you?

“Princess,” Rhaenyra laughs, coming down the stairs. You appeared eager to be near her, as you wrapped your arms tightly around her waist. A warm ache grows in her chest as Dragonstone’s darling caresses your shoulders, pushing you aback to see your face. “My you are eager this morrow.”

Your cheeks were plastered in rosy plums. Pink and delicate. As you burst into unfathomable joy at her proximity, you couldn’t contain your giddy blubbering. “I missed you! Is it so wrong to miss you?” She’d imagined your energy and heart beating simultaneously in the rhythm of a hummingbird. You were such a lively spirit, it complimented well with her own. Can she say that? 

She peers at you, fondly. As you were the most precious being one could ask for. If she could, Rhaenyra would shield you from every inconvenience and proposal your way. Even when you would become of age and pursued by your parents, she still would protect you from anyone who deemed you accessible. She brought both of her hands around your small one. They were adorned with rose-colored jewelry. Each is a colored gemstone to match your House colors. Rhaenyra slowly traces the flesh of your palm, “Of course not, Princess! It’s- I haven‘t seen you in so long,”

Your name is hollered and echoed against the looming halls you both stood in. She was sure for a moment, you two would be alone. A pang of discomfort flourishes in her throat when Rhaenyra becomes mute to the person to grab your attention. You, however, were deemed unbothered by it all, and held onto her grip tighter, and firmly, radiating heat and sweat. 

“There you are,” Your father, Lord Corlys groans in relief. It was evitable to find you lost around the castle, King’s Landing was a vast place. However, for how long you have visited, Rhaenyra depicts you knew the structure of it all and simply faked being clueless around. She saw it once. When you vaguely asked a guard where the library was to distract him, knowing you would be off avoiding your lessons with the Septa. She wishes she could chuckle out loud for that memory. “Do not get yourself carried away with the Princess, we have important matters to discuss with the King.” Your father seemed adamant about separating you from Rhaenyra, she recognizes. Which offends her greatly. You were a good friend and cousin. But more importantly, you were the only person to enjoy her company and mischief. 

For the longest time, the eldest daughter of King Viserys was lonely, not having anyone to relate to with her ancestral blood. The ladies in waiting were shy and polite. They were not her forte, Rhaenyra disliked how courtship worked. The daughter of the Hand, Alicent Hightower was a pleasant fresh air and surprise. When she had arrived at King's Landing years ago, Rhaenyra was rather avoidant of her. Now, they were good friends, only ever to be in each other's presence. Daemon, her uncle, is rarely seen nowadays. His position to the City Watch had in truth bothered and encouraged him to wreak more havoc with the townsfolk. She dismisses everyone clearly, anyone closest to her Targaryen bloodline is old or distant. 

But you, and your siblings, Laenor and Laena were much needed in the capitol. Your brother and sister visit rarely, they listen to your father and mother. On the other hand, you weren’t as uptight. As the youngest member of the Velaryon family, you had fewer expected duties compared to her and Alicent. Rhaenyra envied it truly, forever longing for your freedom. 

“Yes father,” You mope, an obvious frown on your lips when you depart from Rhaenyra’s side to your father. He stares at you with amused eyes, much contrast when he turns to her direction with a cold glare. It brings a chill down her spine as she quickly bows her head at the Master of Ships. She meant no offense. You did not notice the demeaning tension between your father and cousin. Because childishly, you excitedly tugged on Rhaenyra’s golden sleeves. “We’ll meet again soon, alright?” 

God, she can only smile at you. You were so sweet, endearing, and innocent. All traits she could find in any other lady. But you were much lively, more genuine than the girls she watched by the courtyard. They were pretentious and fickle. Alicent was also sweet and innocent. Innocent in the ways of adventure and courage. She was attached to duty and for that, Rhaenyra could not blame her. But for how much it mattered to her, she believed it to be an outrage. Out of everyone, you were just right.

The next time you met Rhaenyra was unconventional. Somehow you managed to convince your father to journey beside him to King’s Landing once more to meet the King’s family. Corlys hardly shrugged, putting little effort to stop you from climbing aboard the Sea Snake. Under unfathomable moments, you were condemned to sail to the capitol to tell the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms the great news. The last islanders left behind were your mother, Rhaenys, and sister, Laena who waved at you, earnestly, honing her fond smile as your figure grew smaller and smaller. Your mother, the Queen who Never Was, stood warmly with her arms crossed, with a look of pride on her face. 

Yes, your mother was ecstatic about what you had accomplished. No other dragon rider besides The Old King, Jaehaerys could claim the beast, the Bronze Fury. Many attempted, and many failed. However, because of your efforts, create a sense of joy and relief in your mother’s eyes. Never would she imagine her youngest child to claim one of the largest dragons alive. Vermithor was an untamable beast with a feisty personality. Perhaps it takes likeness to your spirit and simply bonded. She would have to ask you again to recall how you did it. 

The walls of the grand castle were empty and welcoming. You felt adrenaline scorch through your veins when you climbed up the stairs of the grand hall. The exterior was glorious. You could holler and scream and it would echo throughout all the corridors like a never-ending chamber. You held a skittish smile, as you made your way up, placing one hand on the rails for support. You could hear your father’s voice echo behind. Careful, you mustn’t fall, my love!

Even if you dropped to the ground, you would immediately pull yourself up and climb the stairs again. It was how desperate you were to meet Rhaenyra. You desperately wanted to tell her! 

Across the royal chambers, Rhaenyra was lounging outside notably. She sat under the Weirwood tree at leisure with Alicent beside her with a book in hand. She read aloud one of its stories, a romantic tale of a Dornish princess. But the dragon princess barely paid mind to what the Hand’s daughter was reading, she was more in tune with the moving sky. The baby blue ocean from above and the fluffy clouds that looked like soft cushions. The Realm’s Delight longed to ride with Syrax, despite only returning from her morning ride. If she could live in the sky forever, Rhaenyra would want to. 

She spotted a few of the Kingsguards that patrolled stop in front of someone. It looked as though they were permitting passage but seconds later, she saw them nod in unison simultaneously. They cleared the path and there you were. Striding in happy and irregular steps with your flowy dress of blue seashells and gemstones. She is reminded each time of your wealth and beauty. Cool-toned colors were your style as there was no other pigment you dressed in confidently and proudly, Sometimes she wonders how you would look in crimson red and black. 

“Princess!” Alicent was the first to speak on your behavior. It was not every day to see you all of a sudden in King's Landing. After Lord Corlys’s many disagreements with the Council. he chose to be absent from court. This irritated King Viserys and the rest of the Council, knowing without their Master of Ships, their collaboration would be deemed incomplete. Nevertheless, your appearance would confirm that your father had once again returned to the capitol. “I didn’t expect to see you here!” The brown-haired princess gleams, shutting the book entirely, and rising to meet you in a short embrace. 

Your giddiness is affectionate. It makes Rhaenyra feel light and blissful of your unannounced arrival. “It is good to see you, my Lady!” You’re teasing, tightly wrapping your arms around Alicent before releasing with sweet laughter. Alicent snickers, as the highlights of her dimples flush in soft pales of the color rose. 

“I told you, Alicent is fine!” 

“I know!” The two of you seemed to be in your world whenever your visits happened. You would appear, and Alicent bursts excitement and jitteriness. Rhaenyra finds it amusing to watch it unfold. But for not witnessing your presence for so long, she rather feels a little hurt and apprehensive of your attachment to the Hand’s daughter. If your mere attendance brought such delight, then your words brought an abundance of warmth and tenderness. “Nyra!”

Finally, the Princess of Dragonstone looks up, feeling slightly closed off from your welcome. Yet when she lays her velvet eyes on you, she can’t help but feel you are forgiven. Your expression was gentle and serene. “Princess,” Your name feels light off her lips as it always did. You playfully roll your eyes before releasing your grip on Alicent to hold onto Rhaenyra’s hands. They were inviting and delicate. 

“I missed you,” You whine, dramatically, dragging out the last part as though you haven’t seen each other in months. When really, it has been less than a month. The most you have visited were a full three days, staying overnight in the guest's bedrooms. It was when your father had an important mission to relay with the lords he chose to stay longer. You, on the other hand, wanted a sleepover. And by now, you should have a bedroom, personalized for whenever you wish to come to visit. You have on many occasions to irk your father and mother’s minds.

“The last time we spoke you were whisked away by your father,” She scoffs lightly which earns a questionable raised brow from Alicent. Your expression does not falter at her offense. “even though you said we would meet again.” Petty and stubborn were the words you describe Rhaenyra Targaryen. She was rather protective and loyal to the people closest to her. You importantly, she greatly values you. And weeks ago, you promised her, however, things took a turn with your father and you had to abide. 

“And we have,” You grin, lovingly, holding her hands up to your chest. It was a subtle sign of an apology and care. You carried your promise, even if it had taken weeks to fulfill because of interpersonal matters. But you are here now, in front of her, your energetic personality never failing. “I have great news.” 

The silvery-haired princess seemed to take your understated gesture sincerely as she closed the gap between you two. Curiosity caught her gaze as her lavender orbs did not move away from your own. “Well, what is it?” Suddenly you’re aware you’ve kept a tight grip on Rhaenyra as she allowed you to trap both her hands. The close intimacy is acknowledged by you when you try not to break away your gaze from hers. Alicent seemed visibly bothered by it but you are not facing her to know. 

The wind whistles in anticipation, and the Weirwood tree heaves and blows the dead leaves off of its branches. The luscious green fields dance back and forth in little tiny unison. The scent of dirt and fresh mint is present. As you inhale deeply before revealing, “I claimed a dragon.” 

A moment of silence before a heaved gasp came from the Hightower princess. 

“Congratulations!” 

You can feel the butterflies float up to your chest when you see both of the girl's expressions in a state of happiness and revelation. You give an animated smile, “Thank you!”

“Are you joking?” You can see on Rhaenyra’s face, she is still in shock which morphs into pleasure and ecstasy. 

You shake your head enthusiastically, and repeatedly, shaking both you and the Princess in a hop. “No!”

“Oh thank the gods!” Your cousin blurts, embracing you in a well-deserved embrace. Her arms coil around your back with a squeeze. The encouragement both Rhaenyra and Alicent had given you was something you cherished dearly. For the longest time, you blame yourself for not being able to claim a dragon. No egg would hatch or a wild dragon would approach you. You studied and performed all the ways to encounter them. Yet none had prevailed and up until recently, you felt exasperated on the idea of bonding with a dragon. You were extremely jealous of Laenor and Rhaenyra for their impeccable bond. You and Laena longed for it for your entire lives, it made you moody and neglectful. 

Therefore their support had kept you least tolerable. Your mother and father were understanding and patient with your fits. Even King Viserys and Queen Aemma sometimes consoled you that one day you would claim a dragon. Whichever dragon you did not care for, you knew your companion was out there. 

“Which dragon did you claim?” The brunette girl comes to your side, eager and curious to know what of your new beast. 

“Yes, which one did you claim?” Your silver-haired cousin urges, shaking your hands back and forth. 

You felt like a bubble waiting to pop with excitement. You wanted all the streams and ribbons the castle could offer to be released for your accomplishment. You took a deep breath before letting out a slow exhale to calm your beating heart. “Vermithor.” 

In an instant, Rhaenyra’s face falls. “Vermithor.” 

“Yes, Vermithor!” You were blinded by the enthusiasm Alicent portrayed with her hands, clapping and squealing in awe at you. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Vermithor!” The Hand’s daughter takes your left hand and swirls her thumbs around your knuckles. “I’m so happy for you!” Again the call of your name is murmured frankly and in reverence. “One of the largest dragons alive in the world and you had claimed it!” 

Satisfaction filled your chest. Nothing could compare to the prideful looks your friends and family had for you on this day. It truly was something to celebrate something this spectacular. Not since Jaehaerys, your great grandfather rode the dragon. Your mother would surely want you to ride Vermithor immediately as he was still considered wild. But if Jaehaerys managed to tame the beast, you knew you could. 

She could not explain it. Rhaenyra had always thought highly of you. She would disparage you out of anything. You were too pure for her frustration. What is she angry about? The princess could not explain. But whenever she passed the corridors of the Keep or the chambers of her mother’s ladies in waiting, she would hear the praise and compliments for your achievement. My, haven't you heard? The youngest daughter of Corlys Velaryon claimed Vermithor! The dragon King Jaehaerys rode! It must be fate. 

To what end was it fated? Dragons chose their riders. It was unclear how the bonds between rider and dragon existed but it was something genuine. So it shouldn’t confuse her when she sees you when on Driftmark, practicing to fly with the Bronze Fury. You struggled the first few times. She recalls those moments well, laughing and teasing you to no end of the amount of times you fell into the mud. Mounting on a dragon was a gradual adjustment. As she stared into the view of the ocean shore and deep gray-blue waters, you and your dragon were by the shorelines, attempting to be in sync with one another. A few feet from you was Rhaenys. As commanding and benevolent she was to you and not to her. 

Rhaenys Targaryen was quick-witted. She never had a great relationship with the Queen who Never Was. But in contrast, she was soft to you and held untainted remorse for her youngest child. Meleys was beside her rider, cooing and staring at you and Vermithor in inquiry. Much similar to her companion, Rhaenys said something Rhaenyra could not understand before watching you shake your head in disbelief. Vermithor was a grueling and deadly creature. The fact that you were young did not change its attention. It croaks and cranes its neck down for you to climb on its upper back. 

A saddle was neatly strapped on the beast. It must take ages to put on. Vermithor was known for his savage behavior. Yet if you were present with him, she deems he would have been docile to take care of. 

“Why are you pouting?” 

It was the late evening on Driftmark when she proposed a walk with you along the beach line. It was the many hobbies you both enjoyed in your homeland. Salt and sea were everywhere as opposed to her home, King’s Landing filled with endless brick walls and dust. The island is peaceful and serene when there are no fishing ships in the water. Rhaenyra can never be tired of the view and the sea salt air Driftmark supplies. It’s refreshing and so calm. 

“I’m not pouting.” The Princess of Dragonstone argues, her off tone marks it remarkable that her fickle state of mind. She should know better. You know her well, more than most of her maids and sometimes father. 

“You are,” The corners of your lips curve as you kick a few clumps of sand off the ground. “I’ve noticed since coming here, you’ve been…distant.” A personality all of your siblings share is your tenderness. Laena had a graceful heart and Laenor a compassionate one. Yours was resilient. You held onto things for far too long and you’re incredibly devoted to the people you love. You become easily attached to things, people, and the attention. Can she blame you? For a long time, you felt ridiculed and ashamed for your lack of a dragon. Your sadness must be more out of sympathy than Laena’s. By the time your sister claimed Vhagar, you were left as an outcast. 

The Realm’s Delights huffs, crossing her arms behind her back. “Seasick I suppose,” In truth, she never was seasick. Rhaenyra had traveled to Driftmark many times to be immune to the sickness. She knew it was a weak lie, one you would catch easily. But she did not like being confronted on whatever was on your mind. 

“Nonsense,” You jest, before stomping both your feet firmly into the brown sugar sand. Your stance makes the princess stop. “I know you dislike Vermithor.” 

She looks at you, astonished. “What?” 

You push further into the dirt until your heels are engulfed. “I can see it, Rhaenyra. You do not like him.”  Your assumption makes her head spin. Because in what world would she have any disregard against a dragon? Rhaenyra adored all dragons the same. They were a part of her family’s legacy. But she figures you must’ve seen her sometimes glare in the direction of your dragon to believe she had no love for the Bronze Fury. 

The silver-haired girl shakes her head. “No, it’s not that.” She did not want to explain this to you. Feeling ashamed and embarrassed at her feelings, Rhaenyra deems you unfit to hear such nonsense. “It’s more childish than that.”

Your head quirks sideways. You looked confused as your eyebrows rose as well. She can feel the winds pick up as the tides come toward you both. Its cold water brushes past your feet but you ignore it completely. “How so?” 

Must she explain at such a time? “I must admit, for the past few days, I’ve been feeling remorseful.” She quipped, finding the freezing chill of the sea comforting for this kind of conversation. “I’m sure you’ve seen me grow bitter, even resentful towards you and Vermithor. For that I apologize but- it’s a small feeling.” 

“You feel resentful towards me and Verm?” She can see your eyes flicker, as you contemplate and allow your mind to take in her words. Your loose hair is down, you’re gorgeous. Even in your night clothes and were of the absence of jewelry and pretty colors. 

“Was,” She reaffirms, unable to look you in the eye. Rhaenyra feels ashamed for feeling this way. She does not want to hurt your feelings. “The attention, the people, they spoke of you for days about what you have done, claiming King Jaehaerys dragon. All everyone wanted to do was talk about you and how you proved yourself to become the greatest rider.” The more she rambles, the hot tears flood her vision. She does not seem weak to you. She was spilling her truth to you, she had to let it out. 

You held a calm expression. “But I’m not the greatest rider,” Yes, you were not. Your bond was still young. You still struggled with communicating with Vermithor sometimes daily. How can you be considered the greatest even when you struggled to mount your dragon? 

“That is what the people say,” Accidently your cousin snaps but quickly regains her composure. She looks at her feet and the sand below. It was as if she pleaded for forgiveness. There is nothing to forgive, you’re angry. You’d say but she continues. “I was sick and tired of it all. Even my father spoke highly of you and it offended me. Why do I feel this way? I should be happy for you!” The mist around you clouds the floor. It’s sombrous and cool to touch. Everything Rhaenyra had held back was gone and it felt somewhat cathartic. She knows you must’ve felt hurt by her words, she was harsh.

She was afraid to touch you. But you did not care, gripping her forearm suddenly. Rhaenyra’s gaze finally breaks and stares at you, wide-eyed. Her tear-filled eyes shattered your heart, fully aware of her fragile condition. “I don’t blame you for what you feel, Rhaenyra. I too felt the same way when Laena claimed Vhagar, do you remember it? I was restless, unable to sleep at night - why couldn't I do what she had done.” The Princess of Dragonstone does not pull away from your grasp but simply gazes at your quivering lips. “I grew to be resentful of my sister. My heart grew dark and left people in danger. I regret feeling this way towards her now because of it. Do you understand?” 

The expression on your face said it all as she observed. The strained look flashed before you as you recounted the painful memories. In the days after Laena’s bond, you were cruel and cold. You spoke less to your family, ashamed and poisoned by jealousy. You would snap at the sailors more often and drive them into more dangerous scenarios to spite them. Your pettiness was revolting to watch, your father, Corlys growing instantly tired of your immature tantrums for something you could not control. He would cry out to you about how ignorant your actions were and then dismiss your privileges to sailing his ships. All while your mother felt she could do nothing to stop you in your frustration. She watched from a distance as her husband criticized you openly for your infuriating flaws, making it known to all you had gone too far. 

Slow but surely, when you stepped closer to her gave you the courage to tell her what needed to be heard. “I cannot change what you feel, but if you wish for me to leave, then please tell me.” You huffed in pain as your cold fingers traced along her arm and then moved to her hands. In some ways like this, you were fragile like porcelain. Sometimes Rhaenyra forgot you were younger than her. And now she felt like the childish one. 

“No, I—” She gulps, her fear evident. She didn't want to lose you as well. “Please don’t go.”

Your eye-opening conversation marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life. Connecting with the Bronze Fury required some time to adapt to both yourself and those around you. As the newest rider, you felt the world embracing you. However, what you cherished most was the experience of riding. You hailed from Old Valyria, with the blood of the Dragon in your veins. Riding with Vermithor became a daily routine, a privilege you savored. It was the most incredible gift you could have received.

Rhaenyra slowly became accepting of it as well. You can tell by the way her lips curl when you mount off of your dragon, that she was proud of you. You were a dragon rider! Now, you and she could soar through the skies for eternity if you wished. It was a dream come true, and you were overjoyed that she had forgiven you.

When you were above the skies, it was breathtaking. No view from below could compare to the ones over the clouds. You admit now why you found Rhaenyra’s obsession with flying to be so addicting. It was. When you’re up there, it feels as though nothing matters but you and the pale blue heavens. Vermithor would always groan in his grumpy way to show affection. He enjoyed riding above, you’ve felt his calm heartbeat and knew he too felt as relaxed as you did. When Rhaenyra joined you, which was a regular occurrence, you two would race. Up and down the clouds, like both of you danced in between the midst.

She looked dashing in her rider’s uniform. Black leather, plastered to resemble dragon scales alongside matching gloves. You resembled a familiar approach, having bronze leather strapped all over to stimulate Vermithor’s charming scales. You reminisced that he even once nudged at you from behind as a sign of appreciation for it.

Vermithor, the ruthless wid dragon growing soft because of you. You always had your chance to mention it to him before riding as a reminder of your sincere relationship. As a rider and dragon, the two of you bonded over adventure and tricks. You loved exploring the faraway lands to only encourage the Bronze Fury more driven to fly. 

But there were also moments when you were reminded of how reckless you could be with him. On the morning of your uncle’s name day, you convinced Rhaenyra to fly out to the Estermount Sea, close to the Triarchy of Essos. At first, the princess urged you of the danger, the Triarchy were pirates who paraded in raiding others for fun. Additionally, they had been targets of your father’s ships, disrupting trade. Yet you dismissed her pleas and pursued with an eager grin. 

The first few moments entering the sea territory were quiet. Both of you were mindful of the harsh waves there and how foggy it was similar to the Stormlands. But Rhaenyra persisted with her worries when you wanted to challenge her to dive down close to the sea. 

“We shouldn’t be here!” Her lilac eyes were defined with anxiousness as the princess held her dragon’s reins tightly. However you were indifferent, all too casual in uncharted areas. 

“We’re fine! We’re high enough in the sky!” you shout, a broad grin stretching across your face as you gaze at the small islands of Essos below. They look both foreign and beautiful. You’ve never ventured this far from home before.

But that was the last moment of calm you experienced. Suddenly, a harpoon appeared out of nowhere, narrowly missing you and Vermithor by the shoulder. The weapon moved with such speed and force that you had no time to process what was happening. Rhaenyra saw it clearly—she watched as the massive arrow zipped past you, inches away from your body, before plunging into the sea below. Someone had attempted to attack you. The worst followed: the harpoon's impact sent you and Vermithor into a chaotic frenzy. You leaped as your dragon swerved violently, causing you to be thrown from your saddle. For a moment, your body was there, and then it wasn’t.

The princess screamed in desperation, urgently commanding Syrax to dive into the water in an attempt to catch your falling body. Your dragon was beside hers, plummeting and speeding towards the sea floor as you descended. With a whoosh, Vermithor swooped in at the last moment, grabbing you from a fatal plunge. His claws, though sharp, gripped you with surprising gentleness, and you stared in terror as he held you safely.

The memory was deeply distressing. Your hair was now disheveled and tangled from the fall. Tears streamed down your cheeks, leaving your skin glistening and drenched. Rhaenyra could only sob with relief, feeling utterly exhausted and wishing it were all just a nightmare. Yet it was all too real. She felt Syrax’s comforting purr in response to her discomfort. Her father and yours would have been shouting endlessly about this.

Despite everything, all she could remember was the devastated look on your face.

It was madness. Jacaerys would tell her, her son parading around her room as they waited for all of the Targaryen bastards to arrive. Here she was, Rhaenyra Targaryen, in Dragonstone, pursuing the inevitable. The idea of recruiting Dragon Seeds was bizarre but what choice did she have? There was no one left in her family who could claim one. Distant Houses with the blood of Valyria were risky. She had to sacrifice one of her knights to do it. Perhaps this was the only way to win the war. 

Years without your presence brought Rhaenyra sorrow and time to reflect on herself. It had been long since she was gifted to speak your name so openly. Everyone knew of her relationship with you. The princess cherished you deeply and with your absence, left the Realm soulfully longing. Rhaenys despises her because of it. She wondered if part of the princess's resentment was directly tied towards you or the fact she was given the title of heir or both. Yet after Alicent’s son had taken her throne, Rhaenys stood by her side, as did her husband. 

Meeting all of the Targaryen bastards was daunting at first. Rhaenyra knew many infidelities were common for any lord to allow their seed to spread. To witness so many of them in a room made her all the more encouraged to believe her plan would succeed. It must, it should. She could feel all of their eyes focus entirely on her like a beacon of hope. They believed what they were doing was right to protect the realm. And for that, she will use it to attain. 

The Dragonpit had never felt so cold or so secure. It was secluded within a murky cave, miles tall and wide. It’s humid, water drips everywhere as the Black Queen strides down onto the platform where the dragon would be summoned. Forty or so Dragon Seeds followed her, paranoid and trembling about what was to come. She would have to believe in the gods, Rhaenyra sighed. If there is a strategy better than this, she would take it. But Alicent’s son had taken something from her by force and for that, she could not comply. 

“Come forward, Vermithor.” Her accent revealed her fluency in the High Vayrlian language. Rhaenyra readied herself for the beast. Seconds of silence loomed over all those in the Dragonpit like a neverending time bomb. The wait was excruciating yet the inevitable was daunting to witness. Out of the shadows comes a growl, which causes a few of the Dragon seeds to slightly panic. But the Queen knew better. And Vermithor as well.

He looms, towering over the cockpit like a living nightmare. His crooked teeth glowed an intimidating appearance for all, and the simmer of his bronze scales shined. “Obey! Stay calm, Vermithor!” Commanded by Rhaenyra as she stares up at the beast, unafraid. She holds an imposing scowl before witnessing the Bronze Fury lower his snout. The Black Queen reaches out of her hand, cautiously and slowly. 

Her hand makes contact with his snout and calmly Rhaenyra recognizes the sense of calm Vermithor had with her whenever you were around. It felt as though he resembled your presence and familiarity. This intuition puts a warm smile on her face. 

[mannequinreligi0n]

How The DMC Boys Eat Out

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

WARNINGS: NSFW! - oral (female receiving)

WORD COUNT: ~150 per person

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

DANTE

Dante’s a busy man but what does he always make time for? Dessert. Though it’s not often you get dedicated alone time, Dante has made it a habit to at least reward you for sticking by his side as often as possible. This usually has you seated atop his desk, hands grasping at bills and work permits, as he sits before you in his beaten leather chair. Hungry and eager, he’ll kitten-lick at your hole ensuring that he’s tasting every single drop of arousal that leaks out. Dante’s a pleaser at heart, meaning he’ll go til his jaw locks or you yank him off of you. But until that point, he’ll make sure to mutter praise and sweet nothings in your heat, making you twitch and squirm. When he’s not holding your hips down, he’ll switch off between pumping digits or his tongue into you, knowing the right combination to make anyone unlucky enough to be at the agency hear you cry out his name til you lose all capability of intelligent speak.

“So wet - just for me, sugarplum. M’gonna make sure you can’t walk after this.”

VERGIL

Unlike his twin, Vergil appreciates more calculated encounters, rather than spontaneous ones. Ambience is very important to him; he’ll make sure that everything leading up to the moment is just right. Candles, wine, and soft sonatas playing in the background - all leading up to get you seated above him, thighs nearly squeezing his head into the mattress. The crude act of face-sitting is made into a poetic one when Vergil is under you. Methodical tongue movements and cherry lips sucking the life out of you make your hands grip the headboard with unbeknownst strength. Calloused hands will knead into your hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles in an attempt to calm your jolting above him. Vergil has spent years mastering the art of patience and playing the long-game. He’ll make sure to draw out every single second til your legs give out. Aftercare is a biggie for him, holding you to his chest and praising your behavior to calm your pounding heart.

“Don’t mock me, little one. When I say sit, I mean sit.”

NERO

Nero is the happy-medium of the trio. Whether it’s quickies in the van or the good ol’ ‘wined and dined’, he’ll make sure that you are his number one priority. If there’s one thing Nero loves, though, it’s getting to stay in bed with you on his day off. Tired kisses and slow petting will eventually lead to Nero disappearing under the covers to take post between your legs. Inside the cocoon of blankets, Nero will lazily drag his fingers over your sensitive folds before anchoring his mouth to your bud. Gentle flicks of his tongue timing to the pump of his two fingers buried in you to the knuckle. Intermittently, his mouth will detach from you and trail kisses along your inner thighs and navel, whispering how good you taste and how much he loves you. He won’t emerge from his hideout until you’ve came - peeking out of the covers to kiss you sweetly, the taste of yourself prominent on his lips.

“There you go, let it out. You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

[arkaiveofurown]

i have like 4 diff requests in my mind but idk which i want most so imma try and combine them 🙂‍↕️

if possible, sabo x fem!strawhat!princess!childhoodfriend(??) 😃

im imagining sabo met her when he joined the revolutionary army when he was like 13 and met her on some island that was an ally of the revolutionaries(??? idk im so sorry) just coincidental that she joined sabos brothers crew and that makes him so happy m

ne ways

shes a strawhat, and i lowk just wanna see them reunite, just happily ended up on the same island. yk they’re both lowk busy- sabo chief of staff and miss y/n a strawhat, but i imagine they send each other letters and talk on the den den mushi sometimes 🙂‍↕️ maybe some smut, maybe some fluff 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

A Promise Across Time

Pairing: Sabo x Reader

After years of being apart, you and Sabo, childhood friends, unexpectedly reunite when you both end up on the same island. Between your busy lives, the bond you once shared is reignited.

Word Count: ~6,000 words

tags: fluff, childhood friends to lovers, very mild smut

my master list here ♡

——

a/n: thank you for this cute request! sabo is one of my faves so i love writing about him. anw sorry for the very mild smut i’m still not used to it.. haha maybe soon i can write a full one! but hope u like it still :)

——

The Revolutionary Army had visited your island only twice in your lifetime. The second time changed everything.

You were thirteen. A firecracker of a girl—barefoot, grass-stained, and too sharp-tongued for the noble title you hadn’t asked for. Your island, a neutral ally to the Revolutionaries, had always been peaceful, quiet. Boring, honestly.

Until he arrived.

“What’s your name?” you asked the blond boy with soot on his cheeks and a pipe strapped to his back. He’d just finished showing off some half-baked martial arts to a group of island kids.

He turned, startled by your directness. “Sabo.”

“That’s a dumb name.”

“You’re kinda rude for a princess.”

You grinned. “You’re kinda soft for a revolutionary.”

He stared at you—then laughed. A clear, surprised sound. “You wanna see the secret passage I found under the governor’s garden?”

You did.

You spent a few weeks with him. Racing through trees, trading stories, laughing until your ribs hurt. You taught him how to pick the garden locks with a hairpin; he showed you how to swing from the old rope bridge at the edge of the ravine. You never asked what he was running from. He never asked why you hid dirt under your fingernails and scraped your knees on purpose.

He was clever—sharper than any boy you’d met—and far too serious when he thought you weren’t watching. Sometimes you’d catch him staring out at the sea with his jaw clenched, like it owed him something.

You never pressed him about it.

The night before he left, the two of you sat beneath the half-finished bell tower, feet dangling off the ledge, the sky thick with stars. The kind of silence between you was rare—heavy, but not uncomfortable.

“I’m not gonna stay here,” you said quietly, picking at a fraying thread on your skirt.

“I didn’t think you would.” He glanced at you. “You’re not really the noble type.”

“Yeah. How about you? Any plans?”

He shifted, looking at his boots for a moment, before lifting his gaze to the night sky. “I’m not sure where I belong yet.”

You nudged his knee with yours. “Does anyone?”

He looked at you, a hint of uncertainty in his expression. “Guess not.”

The next morning, neither of you said goodbye.

You climbed a tree near the port instead, watching from the branches as the Revolutionary ship began to pull away. He stood at the railing, gripping the edge like he wasn’t sure whether to jump or wave or just stare.

And he did stare—right at your tree, even though you were sure he couldn’t see you through the leaves.

As the wind pulled at his coat and the ship turned toward the horizon, Sabo felt something deep in his chest—something strange and warm. The thought lingered in his mind:

I will marry her someday. That’s a promise.

He didn’t remember much from his life before joining the Revolutionary Army. Pieces of his past were shattered, lost in the flames of his childhood accident.

But now, no matter what happened, he was sure you are someone he would never forget.

——

The newspaper hit the desk with a soft thud, but it might as well have been a gunshot with how fast Sabo sat up.

He’d only meant to skim the headlines—another World Government scandal—but his eyes snagged on the image like a hook in the gut.

A group photo. Grainy, low-quality, and clearly taken mid-battle. The Straw Hat Pirates—grinning, bruised, chaotic as always.

But one face stopped everything.

Hair a little longer, body older—but it was you. No doubt in his mind. No hesitation. The same eyes, the same smile that he hadn’t seen since he was thirteen.

Sabo’s fingers trembled as he touched the edge of the photo.

Sabo’s fingers trembled as he touched the edge of the photo.

He wanted to go and see you.

He needed to.

His hand curled into a fist over the page, brow furrowed. You were standing next to the Straw Hat captain—Luffy, right?

He was happy you’d gotten away from all that noble shit.

Happy that you’d made your own choice.

That you were free.

——

Sabo stood amidst the wreckage of the colosseum, the cheers of the crowd still ringing in his ears. His thoughts, however, were elsewhere. His mind was flooded with memories—the ones he had regained a few weeks ago.. after Ace’s death.

Luffy… His brother. The brother he had forgotten but was now so sure of. The brother whose smile was forever etched into his soul.

Earlier, he had met Luffy again, a heartfelt reunion that shook him to his core. Luffy, who had been fighting so fiercely to avenge Ace, was his brother. And Sabo was proud of him.

But there was another thought that filled him with happiness, a quiet relief that made his chest feel light: You. The girl who had once been his closest companion, the one who had made him laugh beneath the shade of trees and shared his childhood secrets… You had ended up in Luffy’s crew.

He didn’t know exactly when it happened, but one thing was certain: you were with Luffy now, and that gave him peace. He knew Luffy would take care of you—he always had. He was certain that, just like Luffy, you were as tough and free as the wind, fighting alongside him and the others.

Sabo was still trying to process everything, trying to take it all in when a familiar voice rang through the air.

“Hey, Sabo!”

Sabo turned, the sound of Luffy’s voice pulling him from his thoughts. Luffy stood there, grinning widely as usual, his straw hat perched proudly atop his head. But it wasn’t just Luffy standing there.

To the side, a little further away, there you were. You.

Sabo’s heart skipped a beat. He blinked, staring at you, unable to fully process the sight of you standing there, so unexpectedly. You looked different��more mature, more seasoned by the seas—but that same spark in your eyes was unmistakable.

“Y/N…?” Sabo’s voice was barely above a whisper.

You seemed just as stunned, blinking in surprise before your expression softened. “Sabo…?”

A smile crept onto his face despite the shock. “Yeah… it’s really you.”

You took a step closer, still hesitant, as if unsure whether to bridge the gap between you. “I didn’t know you’d be here… in Dressrosa.”

Sabo shrugged, trying to act nonchalant despite the warmth spreading across his face. “I didn’t expect to see you here either… but I’m glad you’re with Luffy.”

You nodded, the words catching in your throat as you struggled to hold back the flood of emotions. “Yeah… I didn’t expect it either. But… I’m glad you’re okay.”

There was a beat of silence before Sabo spoke again, voice quieter. “I used to wonder a lot, you know… what you were up to. Where you’d gone.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “You did?”

He nodded, glancing to the side. “I even went back to your island once… years later. Hoping to see you.” He let out a soft breath. “But you weren’t there anymore.”

You bit your lip. “I waited… for a while, after you left. Thought maybe one day, you’d come back.”

Sabo looked at you, guilt flashing briefly in his eyes.

“But I get it,” you said gently, cutting through the silence. “You were with the Revolutionary Army. You couldn’t exactly come and go freely… we were just kids. I knew it wasn’t up to you.”

His expression softened. “I still wish I had… I missed you.”

Your chest tightened at his words, a thousand emotions surging all at once. You opened your mouth to speak, but your voice caught.

“…I missed you too,” your breath hitched, cheeks heating.

Both of you looked away at the same time, flushed and a little awkward, but smiling despite it.

Luffy, who had wandered back holding a giant drumstick, blinked between the two of you. “Huh? What’s with the both of you? You guys are acting weird.”

You both jumped slightly, startled.

“We’re not!” you said quickly.

Sabo cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just… catching up, like I said.”

Luffy tilted his head. “Weird catching up.” He shrugged and took a huge bite of his meat. “Anyway, wanna eat?”

You and Sabo exchanged a look—half embarrassed, half amused.

“Sure,” you said, voice still a little soft.

“Yeah,” Sabo added, his eyes lingering on you for just a second longer. “Sounds good.”

And just like that, with the warmth of old feelings rekindled and Luffy still blissfully clueless, the world started moving again around the two of you.

——

A soft wind passed between you, warm against your skin. The chaos of Dressrosa—battle aftermath, shouting, the clatter of repairs and movement—seemed to fade into a distant hum. Here, in this little corner of quiet, it was just you and him.

Sabo looked down at your hand, then back up. “You really didn’t forget me?”

You shook your head slowly. “Not for a second.”

He swallowed. “I thought maybe you would.”

You smiled faintly. “Idiot. You were the hardest person to forget.”

He let out a quiet laugh, cheeks faintly pink, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what I thought I’d say if I saw you again. I tried to imagine it, but…”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice a little breathless. “Same.”

The silence returned, but it was a good kind. A warm kind. The kind that came from people who once shared something important and were just now realizing they still did.

Sabo looked out at the sky, a little smile playing on his lips. “Feels like we were thirteen yesterday.”

You tilted your head slightly. “Except now you’re taller. And your hat’s cooler.”

He laughed. “Oh, so that’s what you noticed first?”

“No,” you said, glancing away quickly, face flushing. “…It was your smile.”

That stopped him cold. His breath caught just slightly as he turned to look at you again, softer than before, quieter.

You didn’t dare meet his eyes.

“…I really missed you,” he said again, almost like he couldn’t stop himself. “And I don’t wanna lose you again.”

Your eyes met his this time, sure and steady. “You won’t.”

He pulled something from his coat—folded paper, already slightly worn. A Vivre Card. “Here. So you’ll always know where I am.”

You blinked, then smiled and tore a piece from your own, offering it in return. “And now you’ll always know where I am too.”

Your fingers brushed as you traded pieces.

For a second, neither of you moved. Then you both laughed quietly, awkward and warm.

——

Weeks had passed since your reunion with Sabo.

A folded letter arrived with a bird messenger. Luffy had just shouted something about meat when the paper was handed to you.

Your heart skipped. You recognized the handwriting instantly.

Hey,

I don’t even know where to start. I don’t really do this kind of thing, so forgive me if it’s awkward. But I figured if I can’t talk to you often, I can at least write.

I hope you’re safe. I bet you’re giving Luffy hell when he’s being reckless—which, knowing him, is probably every five minutes.

Things are busy here, but I keep thinking about that day in Dressrosa. I didn’t get to say everything I wanted to. Not even close. So… I’ll keep trying, letter by letter.

Take care of yourself. Seriously.

— Sabo

You read it three times before finally tucking it away in your coat pocket, smile lingering.

You wrote back that night.

Dear Firebrain,

Your handwriting is as messy as I remember. I had to squint at half the words.

But… I’m glad you wrote. It’s strange not having you around after seeing you again. I didn’t realize how much I missed you until you left.

Luffy is exactly like you guessed. He picked a fight with a sea king because “it looked funny.” He’s fine, of course. But yes, I’m yelling at him enough for both of us.

Stay safe too, Sabo. I want to hear from you again soon.

— Your tree-climbing partner

You were both busy—him with the Revolutionary Army, you with the Straw Hats—but you never missed a chance to write. As days turned to weeks, the missing grew heavier, settling somewhere quiet between each letter exchanged.

One afternoon, another letter arrived. You unfolded the worn page carefully, eyes already searching for his handwriting:

I’ve been thinking about you more than I probably should.

Some nights, when everything goes quiet, I wonder what you’re looking at—what ocean, what sky. I tell myself it’s the same stars. I like believing that.

I thought it’d get easier after seeing you again… but it didn’t. Now I just know exactly what I’m missing.

The others tease me for spacing out lately. I don’t tell them it’s because I’m thinking about your voice, your laugh, your stupid jokes.

I hope you’re safe. I hope you’re smiling.

I want to see you again. I want to tell you something.

Write back soon. Please.

— Sabo

You replied;

Dear Sabo,

You always knew how to make things harder, didn’t you?

I read your letter three times. Then a fourth. I didn’t want it to end.

I’ve been missing you too. More than I thought I would. It’s like I saw you, and now every part of me is stuck back in that moment—back to when we were just kids under the trees, or standing in the quiet after Dressrosa.

Luffy asked why I was smiling like an idiot the other day. I told him it was nothing. (It wasn’t nothing. It was you.)

I wish I could see you again soon too. I don’t know when, or how, but I’ll be waiting. Just keep that Vivre Card close. I’ll be following where it leads too.

Write again. Always.

— Y/N

——

The day had finally come. You’d kept up with the letters, the occasional updates, but nothing compared to this. Seeing him again—seeing Sabo in person—was a feeling you couldn’t put into words.

As soon as you saw him, standing there with that familiar smile, it was like everything around you disappeared. Without thinking, you rushed toward him, heart pounding in your chest, and hugged him tightly.

Sabo’s eyes widened in surprise, but in an instant, his arms were around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You couldn’t help but bury your face against his shoulder, feeling his warmth, his presence that you’d missed so much in such a short time.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice a little shaky. “You miss me that much?” he teased.

You pulled back just slightly, eyes still locked on him. “I was gonna ask you the same thing,” you laughed softly, still feeling like you were dreaming.

He grinned, then his smile faltered as he hesitated. “Yeah… I missed you.”

Your heart melted. “I missed you too,” you whispered, taking a deep breath, your words nearly stuck in your throat.

Sabo looked at you seriously for a moment, the playful smile slipping away. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say… something I should’ve said a while ago.”

You blinked, suddenly nervous. “What is it?”

Sabo swallowed, his gaze dropping for a brief second before locking back onto yours. “I’ve liked you… for a long time. Even when we were kids. I… I always have.” He shifted a little, looking shy, unsure of how to continue. “I’ve just never had the guts to say it before.”

You felt your heart race at his confession, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “I… I’ve felt the same.”

A wave of relief washed over his face. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice a little softer now, almost shy.

You nodded, stepping closer to him, not wanting to let this moment slip away. “Yeah.”

Without another word, he leaned down and kissed you gently. The world seemed to disappear around you, and for that brief moment, everything felt right again.

But then, suddenly, a loud cheer erupted from behind you.

“Y/N! You’re my sister now?! I can’t believe it! Hahahaha!” Luffy’s voice echoed across the area, completely unaware of the moment he’d just interrupted.

Sabo glared over his shoulder, shooting a sharp look at Luffy and the rest of the crew who were now openly cheering and grinning like they’d just watched the final scene of a romance drama. “You fools! I thought you were going to give us some privacy!”

“Don’t expect anything from them,” you sighed, rolling your eyes but smiling at the same time.

Luffy just laughed louder, completely unbothered, while the others chuckled.

Sabo turned back to you, his expression softening. “Come on, let’s go somewhere quieter,” you suggested. “We still have a lot to talk about.”

You led him away, to your room, where the noise of the crew faded away. Once the door was closed behind you, the space was filled with an intense, quiet anticipation.

You both exchanged a glance before Sabo gently cupped your face, his thumb traced slow circles against your skin. “I never thought this would happen, you know? But I’m so glad it did.”

You could feel your pulse hammering, a wild drumbeat in your chest, and his eyes—those damn stormy eyes—locked onto yours with a heat that made your knees weak.

“I’ve waited too long for this,” he murmured, voice low and gravelly, sending a shiver racing down your spine. Have you ever felt a moment so raw, so electric, that it steals your breath?

His lips crashed into yours again, not gentle this time, but fierce, desperate, as if he could pour every unspoken word from all those lost years into this single kiss.

You gasped against his mouth, hands fisting into his coat, pulling him closer until there was no space left between you, just heat and need and the hard press of his body against yours.

He groaned—a deep, primal sound that vibrated through you—as his hands slid down to grip your hips, fingers digging in with a delicious bite of pain.

“Fuck, I’ve dreamed of this,” he rasped, breaking the kiss to trail his mouth along your jaw, down your neck, teeth grazing your skin until you arched into him, a whimper escaping your lips.

That said, it wasn’t just lust driving him; there was something deeper, a fierce ache, as his hands roamed your body like he was memorizing every curve, reclaiming every inch of you after so much time apart.

You pushed back against him, guiding him toward the narrow bed, your own desire mirrored in the way you tugged at his shirt, fabric ripping slightly under your impatient fingers, until his scarred, taut chest was bare under your hungry gaze.

You both stumbled onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and ragged breaths, and Sabo hovered over you, his weight pinning you down in the best way, his gaze dark and predatory as he drank you in.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled, voice thick with want, as he yanked at your shirt, buttons popping free, exposing your skin to the cool air and his searing touch. His mouth descended, hot and wet, sucking at your collarbone, then lower, until his tongue flicked over your nipple, drawing a sharp cry from you—ahh, fuck!—as your hips bucked up against his.

His cock, hard and straining through his pants, pressed into your thigh, and you ground against him, desperate for more, for everything. “Sabo, please,” you begged, voice breaking, and he chuckled darkly, teeth nipping at your skin as his hand slid between your legs, fingers teasing through fabric before shoving it aside to stroke you, slow and deliberate, until you were writhing beneath him, every nerve on fire.

The room spun with the scent of sweat and desire, the creak of the bed, the slick, wet sounds of his fingers working you, building you up, and you knew—fuck, you knew—this was only the beginning as his other hand fumbled with his belt, the metal clinking urgently in the charged silence.

——

The rest of the night blurred into warmth and softness, laughter against skin, whispered words you’d never dared say aloud before now. You held each other close, learning and relearning each other with every breath.

Later, tangled in the sheets, your head rested on his chest, rising and falling with each slow breath he took.

“I can’t believe this is real,” you murmured.

His fingers lazily traced circles on your back. “If this is a dream, I’m not waking up.”

You smiled sleepily. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his voice quieter now. “I love you.”

You looked up, heart swelling. “I love you too.”

There was a pause. Then, in a voice so soft you almost missed it, he added, “You know… I used to tell myself, even when we were kids, that one day I’d marry you.”

Your breath caught, eyes meeting his again. “You did?”

He nodded, a small, sheepish smile pulling at his lips. “I didn’t know what love really was back then… but I knew it was you.”

Your fingers laced with his, your heart so full it almost ached. “Then it’s a good thing I’ve been waiting for you.”

The night stretched on, and neither of you moved—just lying there in each other’s arms, where everything felt safe. And finally, after all the years, the distance, and the waiting… you are home.