#i am sorry i tried to scan this but the quality of the scan was somehow even worse

[corviiids]

have you guys all taken this personality quiz from vol 13

[bassmars]

submissive! neuvillette x gender neutral reader.

it’s been so long but I am back, I still love neuvillette. Matter in fact I got him a hydro goblet with 35 crit dmg I know I know…. Be jealous.

No proof read sorry if this is all messed up, wrote this pretty late too.. I might start posting more but who should I write about?

—————

Justice served hot

Sub! Neuvillette nsfw.

warnings: semi-public setting, mild exhibitionism, oral sex, penetrative sex (reader can either have a dick or like a strap on I tried)

"Not now, Y/N," Neuvillette murmured, his eyes never leaving the mountain of paperwork that had piled up on his desk. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cluttered room, the only sound being the scratch of his quill against parchment. Y/N, ever the persistent one, leaned against the heavy oak doorframe, arms folded across their chest. Their eyes, filled with a mix of longing and mischief, scanned the room for any signs of weakness.

Neuvillette's desk was a battlefield of legal documents, ink stains spreading like spilled wine across the once pristine surface. The scent of parchment and candle wax filled the air, a stark contrast to the faint hint of incense that usually lingered in the hallways outside. The judge's white hair was slightly disheveled, as if he'd been running his hands through it in frustration, and the blue underside of his single strand was vivid against his pale skin. His pointed ears twitched slightly as Y/N's footsteps grew closer, the quiet thud of boots on the cold stone floor echoing in the vast chamber.

"Comeee onnnnn," Y/N whined, their voice a sweet symphony of seduction, "You've been buried in this stuff for hours." They stepped closer, the leather of their corset creaking faintly. "We haven't had any...quality time in so long."

Neuvillette sighed, setting down his quill with a delicate clink. He rubbed his eyes with his gloved hand, the blue fabric stretching over his knuckles. "You know how important this is," he said, his voice strained. "The fate of Fontaine is literally in my hands."

Y/N pouted, their eyes scanning the room as they approached the desk. They leaned over, their chest brushing against the papers, and whispered into Neuvillette's ear, "I know, but so is my happiness." Their breath was warm, sending a shiver down the judge's spine.

Neuvillette swiveled his chair to face Y/N, his gaze dropping to their mouth. "And what would make you happy right now?" His voice was low, a challenge wrapped in velvet.

Y/N smirked, their hand sliding down to graze the bulge in Neuvillette's trousers. "Well," they murmured, "since you're already sitting..." They knelt down, pushing aside the chair slightly, and flipped the desk's edge up, giving them the perfect access.

Neuvillette's eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. He looked over his shoulder at the door, then back at Y/N. "Here? Now?" His voice was a mix of surprise and arousal.

Y/N nodded, their grin growing wider. "Why not?" They leaned in, capturing Neuvillette's bottom lip in a teasing nip. "It's not like anyone's going to walk in, right?"

Neuvillette's cheeks flushed a light shade of pink, his pointy ears turning a darker shade of red. He glanced at the clock on the wall, the ticking sound suddenly very loud in the quiet room. "Almost time for the next session," he murmured, trying to regain his composure.

Y/N's pout grew more pronounced, their eyes shimmering with a hint of desperation. "Are you really going to leave me like this?" They whispered, their hand still playing with the fabric of his trousers.

Neuvillette sighed, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him. "I have to, Y/N. You know how much is on the line for these cases." He began to stand up, but Y/N's grip tightened, their eyes pleading.

"C'mon," Y/N whined, their voice a siren's call, "Just a quickie, before you go." They leaned in closer, their breath hot against Neuvillette's neck, sending a shiver down his spine.

The judge's resolve wavered, the temptation of a passionate encounter with Y/N almost too much to resist. But he knew he couldn't. "No," he said firmly, pushing back his chair, "We can't." He gently but insistently removed Y/N's hand from his crotch and stood up, straightening his robes.

Y/N pouted even more, their eyes glinting with a hint of annoyance. "You're no fun," they grumbled, crossing their arms over their chest.

Neuvillette chuckled despite himself, reaching out to stroke their cheek with his gloved hand. "I know," he said, "but duty calls." He turned and made his way to the courtroom, the heavy doors looming before him like a final boss in a video game.

Y/N trailed after him, their steps echoing down the hallway. "Fine," they said with a dramatic sigh, "but I'm coming with you."

Neuvillette rolled his eyes but didn't protest. He knew Y/N well enough to know that once they had their mind set on something, there was no changing it. They arrived at the grand courtroom, the air thick with the anticipation of the looming proceedings. The room was eerily empty, the wooden benches untouched by the usual bustle of plaintiffs and defendants.

"Well, this is odd," Neuvillette murmured, checking his pocket watch. "We're not supposed to start for another half an hour."

Y/N snickered, their mood lightening at the sight of the empty room. "Maybe the universe is giving us a little gift," they said, wagging their eyebrows suggestively.

Neuvillette couldn't help but laugh. "Or maybe it's just another one of your jinxes," he teased, pushing the door open with a squeak.

The judge stepped inside, his footsteps echoing in the vast space. The high ceilings, adorned with frescoes of ancient battles and legal triumphs, seemed to watch over them like disapproving parents. Y/N followed, their boots clicking against the marble floor.

"Come on," Y/N whispered, sidling up to Neuvillette, "at least give me a kiss. It's been ages."

Neuvillette's resolve was waning, the heat of their earlier encounter still simmering between them. He leaned down, their lips meeting in a soft, chaste kiss that sent a jolt of electricity through his body. But Y/N wasn't satisfied with just a peck. They grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss that left them both breathless.

Their tongues danced together, a silent conversation filled with longing and desire. Y/N's hands roamed down to Neuvillette's waist, fumbling with the knot of his sash. They pushed him backward, the large judge's chair looming behind him like a throne. With a grunt, Neuvillette gave in, his body weight carrying him backward into the plush velvet embrace of the chair.

Y/N's eyes sparkled with triumph as they sank to their knees in front of the chair.

Neuvillette's cock, now free from its confines, stood proud and demanding. Veins bulged with anticipation, tracing a map of pleasure along its length, and the underside was particularly sensitive to the touch, a fact that Y/N knew all too well.

As Y/N leaned in, Neuvillette's hips jerked involuntarily, his hand shooting up to grab a fistful of their hair. He gripped it tightly, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to hold back the moan that threatened to escape his lips. The sensation of Y/N's warm breath against his cock was almost too much, and he had to bite his lower lip to keep from crying out.

Y/N, ever the eager participant, took the hint and wrapped their lips around the tip, teasing the slit with their tongue. Neuvillette's grip on their hair tightened, his legs spreading wider as he pushed his hips up slightly to meet their mouth. The feeling of their tongue flicking against his most sensitive spot sent a shiver down his spine, making his toes curl in his boots.

Y/N took him in deeper, their cheeks hollowing as they sucked hard. The sound of wetness filled the quiet courtroom, the only other noise the occasional crackle of the candles that lined the walls. They could feel the judge's thighs trembling, his gloved hands clutching their head, guiding them deeper. The taste of his precum was sweet on their tongue, a promise of the release to come.

Neuvillette's breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving as he fought to keep his composure. He knew that Y/N was a master at this, that they could make him cum in seconds if they wanted to, but he was trying to hold out. The anticipation was part of the thrill, the knowledge that they were about to be caught up in something so deliciously scandalous in the very heart of Fontaine's legal system.

But it was a battle he was quickly losing. The way Y/N's mouth moved, the pressure and rhythm, it was all too much. His hips began to buck, his hand moving to the armrest of the chair to keep from toppling over. He could feel the orgasm building, a storm brewing in his core, threatening to spill over at any moment.

And just as he was about to let go, the doors to the courtroom swung open, the sound echoing through the room like a gavel's final blow.

Y/N and Neuvillette froze, the latter's eyes shooting wide open as a parade of officials and assistants began to file in, their murmurs of greeting and shuffling of papers a stark contrast to the silence that had been moments before. Y/N, ever the quick thinker, ducked under the desk, their heart racing. Neuvillette's cock, still wet from Y/N's eager mouth, twitched in response to the sudden cold air.

The judge took a deep breath, willing his body to behave as he forced himself to sit up straight, the chair creaking ominously beneath him. He smoothed his robes down, trying to look as dignified as possible despite the raging hard-on he was trying to hide. The room grew louder as more people filled in, taking their seats, arranging their notes. Neuvillette could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, a blush that was hopefully just from the exertion and not the embarrassment of being caught.

Y/N, hidden from view, couldn't help but let out a stifled giggle, the sound muffled by the fabric of Neuvillette's robes. The judge shot them a glare, his hand shooting down to grip the edge of the desk, his knuckles turning white.

"Thank you all for being here today," Neuvillette began, his voice a little shakier than usual. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself as he continued, "We have a very important case to discuss." His eyes darted around the room, looking for any signs of suspicion. The attendees nodded and murmured in response, none the wiser to the scandalous scene playing out just out of their line of sight.

Y/N, unable to resist the temptation, leaned back in and took him in their mouth again, their hands moving to stroke the base of his cock. Neuvillette's eyes rolled back in his head, his grip on the desk tightening as he bit down on his knuckle to keep from moaning. The room was a blur, the faces of the officials swimming before his eyes as he tried to focus on the case at hand.

With a Herculean effort, Neuvillette pulled Y/N's head back, their teeth grazing the sensitive skin just before they were fully extracted. "Not now," he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice barely above a whisper. Y/N pouted but obeyed— for now, sitting back on their heels and watching him with hungry eyes.

Neuvillette took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to compose himself. He couldn't very well start the session with a raging erection, now could he? He shuffled his papers, hoping that the rustling would cover the sound of his racing heart. The room had filled up, the murmur of conversation growing louder as the minutes ticked by. The tension in the air was palpable, a mix of anticipation for the upcoming case and the unspoken tension between the two lovers.

He took his seat at the bench, adjusting his robes to try and hide his arousal. The first case was brought before him, a dull roar of words that barely registered as he tried to focus. His eyes scanned the pages before him, but the words swam together like ink in water. The pressure of Y/N's mouth was still imprinted on his cock, the ghost of their touch driving him wild. He could feel the wetness of their saliva slowly drying, leaving his skin feeling tight and sensitive.

As the prosecutor began their opening statement, Neuvillette's hand strayed to his mouth, his teeth sinking into his lower lip to keep from groaning. The pressure grew, his cock throbbing with the need for release. He glanced down, trying to be subtle, and found that Y/N's hand had slipped into his lap, their fingers tracing lazy circles around the base of his shaft.

The first time he stuttered, he blamed it on the poor lighting. The second time, he coughed and took a sip of water, his hand shaking slightly as he brought the glass to his lips. The third time, the prosecutor paused, a look of concern flashing across their face. "Your honor, are you feeling quite alright?"

Neuvillette's eyes snapped up, his cheeks burning with a mix of arousal and embarrassment. "I'm fine," he ground out, his voice strained. "Just a... a bit of a cold, I think." He coughed into his fist, hoping it was convincing. The room watched him for a moment before the proceedings continued, the murmur of whispers and shuffling papers resuming.

Y/N took advantage of the distraction, their mouth once again wrapping around Neuvillette's cock. This time, they were more cautious, their movements slow and deliberate. They could feel the judge's thighs tensing, his hips trying to rock up to meet them despite his efforts to remain still. The sound of fabric against skin was almost silent, but to Neuvillette, it was like a symphony in his ears.

He tried to focus on the case, really he did. But every time Y/N hit just the right spot, his eyes would squeeze shut, and a strangled sound would escape his throat. He bit down on his gloved fingers, the leather muffling his moans. The room was so still, so formal, and here he was, on the verge of losing control.

The case droned on, the words a blur as Neuvillette's mind was a whirlwind of pleasure and panic. He could feel the climax building, a crescendo that was all too familiar. Y/N's tongue swirled around the tip of his cock, teasing the slit before plunging back down, taking him in deep.

Neuvillette's body tensed, and he had to bite down on the leather of his gloved hand to keep from crying out. The sudden sharp pain brought him back to reality for a brief moment. He looked up, trying to focus on the defendant standing before him, but all he could see was the swirl of color from the stained glass windows above, casting a kaleidoscope across the room.

"Your honor," the prosecutor's voice cut through the haze, "the defense seems to be... distracted. Is everything alright?" Concerned whispers spread through the courtroom like a ripple in a pond.

Neuvillette coughed, his voice strained. "Just a bit of... allergies, yes. The flowers outside, you know." He cleared his throat and hoped his face wasn't as red as it felt. "Please, continue with your questioning."

The prosecutor looked at him skeptically but carried on. Meanwhile, Y/N had found his sweet spot, licking and sucking with the finesse of a maestro conducting an orchestra. Neuvillette's eyes watered, his hips jerking slightly as he felt the release approaching.

He had to get a grip, literally. He clenched his fists in his robes, the fabric bunching in his grip. "What is your defense?" he managed to ask the defendant, his voice a mix of authority and the beginning of a moan.

The defendant, a burly man with a scruffy beard, looked confused. "I-I was just saying, Your Honor, that I didn't mean to..."

But Neuvillette wasn't listening. Y/N's mouth was like a vise, their tongue a whirlwind of sensation. He could feel the pressure building, the dam about to burst. "I-I need a recess," he blurted out, his voice a strangled whisper.

The room went silent, all eyes on the judge who was clearly not his usual composed self. The prosecutor and defendant exchanged glances, while the bailiff looked like he was about to ask if Neuvillette needed medical attention.

"A... recess?" the prosecutor echoed, looking at the clock. "But we've only just begun."

"Now," Neuvillette snapped, his voice firm despite the tremble in his legs. "This... this case is too important to be rushed." He slammed his gavel down, the sound echoing through the hushed room.

The bailiff stepped forward, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Your Honor, are you feeling... well?"

Neuvillette took a deep breath, willing his body to calm. "I'm fine," he assured, his voice a barely controlled rumble. But Y/N's mouth was like a siren's call, latched onto that spot that made his toes curl and his vision swim. He couldn't ignore the way their tongue danced around the sensitive ridge, the flicks and swirls that sent bolts of pleasure through him.

The prosecutor looked unconvinced, but the defendant's counsel nodded, eager to take advantage of the break. "Very well, Your Honor," the prosecutor said, their voice filled with skepticism. “We'll reconvene in fifteen minutes.”

The room buzzed with whispers as everyone began to stand, their movements a symphony of confusion and curiosity. Y/N didn't waste a second, pulling away from Neuvillette's cock with a final, tantalizing kiss that left him gasping for air. They slipped out from under the desk, smoothing their clothes with a smug grin. "Fifteen minutes, perfect," they murmured, giving Neuvillette's leg a final squeeze before sauntering out of the courtroom.

The judge took a moment to compose himself, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He adjusted his robes, trying to hide the evidence of their tryst. The room emptied slowly, the murmurs of the crowd fading into the hallway. He waited until the last set of footsteps had disappeared before standing, his legs wobbly with need. He could feel the stickiness on his cock, a testament to how close he'd come.

"Y/N, office," he called out, his voice still a little hoarse. Y/N's eyes lit up with excitement, their hand already on the doorknob. They stepped aside, allowing Neuvillette to pass, their fingers trailing over his lower back as they did so.

Once in the office, Neuvillette's gaze swept over the chaos. Papers littered the floor, ink pots were overturned, and the smell of spilled wine filled the air. He took a deep breath, trying to regain control of his body. "This place is a mess," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

Y/N shrugged, a mischievous smile playing on their lips. "It's all part of the ambiance," they said, stepping closer to him. They reached up, untying the knot of his sash with nimble fingers. "Now, where were we?"

Neuvillette's eyes darkened with desire, his hand coming up to cup Y/N's cheek. "We were about to take this somewhere more... private," he murmured, his thumb tracing their jawline. "And then, we're going to make up for lost time."

The door clicked shut behind them, the sound echoing through the cluttered room. Y/N's eyes locked onto his, their hands roaming over his body with a hunger that matched his own. They stepped closer, their bodies pressing together in a delicious dance of heat and want.

"Fuck, you're so hard for me," Y/N growled, their fingers fumbling with the button of his pants. With a swift, brutal motion, they tore open his fly, sending his cock springing free. It jutted out, a testament to his unabated desire, slick with pre-come and begging for release.

Neuvillette's cock sprang free, a testament to his unabated desire. He watched as Y/N took it in their hand, their grip firm and sure. They stroked him slowly, their thumb circling the sensitive tip, sending shivers down his spine.

"Turn over," Y/N ordered, their voice low and commanding.

Neuvillette whimpered at the interruption but reluctantly obeyed, his palms flat on the desk as he bent over, his ass in the air. The cold wood sent a shiver through him, making his skin prickle with anticipation. He was panting and flushed, cock leaking heavily between them as he learned to savor each delicious slide.

Y/N stepped closer, their cock brushing against his thigh. Neuvillette could feel the heat of them, the promise of what was to come. He took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for the onslaught.

The first slick press of Y/N's length against his entrance was like a spark igniting a flame. Neuvillette gasped, his eyes squeezing shut as they pushed inside him. The sensation was almost too much, a mix of pain and pleasure that made his knees wobble, the sensation of their bodies reconnecting after so long almost too much to handle.

Their rhythm grew steadier as they lost themselves in the moment, their movements driven by pure instinct. Neuvillettes nails raked down Y/n’s back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

"Y/n," Neuvillette moaned, his hips rising to meet each thrust. "Harder."

Y/N didn't give him any time to adjust, their hips snapping forward with a force that made the desk shake. Neuvillette let out a strangled cry, his body taking a moment to accommodate the intrusion.

They set a relentless pace, their length sliding in and out of him with a wet, slapping sound that filled the room. The desk creaked and groaned, a testament to their passion.

Neuvillette's nails dug into the wood, his knuckles white with the effort of holding on. He could feel his orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that washed over him with every thrust.

Y/N leaned over him, their breath hot against his neck. "You're so fucking tight," they murmured, their voice strained with lust. "So good, Neuvillette."

Their words were like a spell, casting a net of desire over him. He pushed back, meeting each thrust with a wantonness that surprised even himself. The need to be filled, to be claimed, was overwhelming.

Y/N's hand slammed down onto the desk beside his head, the sound echoing through the room. "Fuck, yes," they grunted, their hips driving into him with an intensity that bordered on violence.

Neuvillette's eyes watered as Y/N hit that spot, that magical spot deep inside that made his toes curl and his body spasm. He bit down on his gloved hand, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to spill from his lips. The fabric muffled the sound, but the pain only added to his pleasure.

Each slap of their hips against his ass was a symphony of sensation, a crescendo that built and built until he thought he couldn't take it anymore. He could feel his orgasm coiling in his belly, tightening like a spring ready to snap.

Y/N's length slammed into Neuvillette with the force of a storm, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent room. The judge's face was a picture of ecstasy and torment, his eyes squeezed shut as he bit down on his lip to keep from crying out. Each thrust was accompanied by a wet smack, the sound bouncing off the walls like a taunt to their secret.

Neuvillette's legs trembled, his toes curling in his boots as he tried to keep his body from betraying him. He knew the Melusines were just outside, their sensitive hearing attuned to every little noise. The thought of them hearing his desperate gasps and the sloppy sounds of their lovemaking sent a thrill of both fear and excitement through him.

He couldn't help the way his body reacted, his muscles clenching around Y/N's length with every thrust. He was so close, so desperately close to losing control. The pressure was building, a coil in his belly that tightened with every movement. The room swam around him, the candlelight playing across his skin like a lover's caress.

He could feel the tension in Y/N's body, the way their muscles tightened and released with each movement. They were both chasing that elusive high, that sweet release that hovered just out of reach. Neuvillette's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more depraved than the last.

His body arched, his back bowing like a bowstring pulled taut before releasing an arrow. His orgasm hit, sending waves of pure ecstasy crashing through his body. He bit down hard on the leather of his glove, muffling the scream that threatened to rip from his chest.

His cock spasmed, shooting ropes of cum across the desk, painting the once pristine surface with a chaotic pattern of white. The smell of sex filled the room, a musky scent that seemed to cling to every inch of them. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise and delight at the display, their own hand moving faster as they watched him come undone.

The hand over his mouth was almost painful now, but Neuvillette didn't care. He bucked and thrashed beneath Y/N, the world outside the office forgotten. The only thing that mattered was the exquisite pleasure that consumed him, leaving him boneless and panting.

Finally, the storm passed, and he collapsed against the desk, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The hand over his mouth slipped away, and he took a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes still closed. The silence was deafening, the only sound the faint tick of the clock on the wall.

Neuvillette's eyes snapped open, his heart dropping into his stomach. He looked at the timepiece, the hands pointing to the number fifteen. "No.”

[just-aake]

Everlasting Devotion - Part XI

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel of Boundless Devotion Series. MedievalAU. With her coronation over, Natasha is now the queen of the Romanov Kingdom. However, the position comes with challenges from both old and new enemies as Natasha tries to maintain the peace while also navigating her relationship with you.

Masterlist Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Warnings: light angst, violence, death

Words: 2513

The three of you navigate the quiet alleyways, shadows stretching across the cobblestones as Redwing glides ahead, scanning the area for Sitwell. 

The tension between you and Natasha lingers in the atmosphere, though you’ve made no effort to address it.

Instead, you keep a deliberate distance from her, your focus locked on the path ahead, and Natasha feels the sting of your cold shoulder intensely.

She knows she mishandled things—should have told you about having Sam and Redwing keep an eye on you—and now she’s left to wrestle with how to make things right.

A quiet sigh escapes her lips.

The sound draws your attention, and for a brief moment, you glance back at her.

Natasha straightens, her heart flickering with hope, but the moment is fleeting. 

Once you see she’s relatively okay, you quickly shift your focus back to your conversation with Sam, effectively shutting her out again. 

“So, how far can Redwing fly?” you ask, tilting your head as you watch the falcon hover effortlessly above.

Sam perks up immediately, his tone turning proud. 

“Oh, he can make it all the way to the Mar-vel Kingdom and back in a day. No problem,” he boasts, clearly delighted to share the falcon’s capabilities.

Your expression softens into genuine interest as you nod, absorbing every detail Sam shares.

Natasha watches you from a step behind, the faintest smile softening her expression despite herself.

She’s always admired the way you connect with others, your genuine curiosity and openness drawing people in. It’s a quality that makes her heart ache even more at the thought of you feeling shunned and ridiculed recently. 

To her, it’s unfathomable how anyone could associate you with Dreykov’s scheming persona.  

Your thoughtful hum pulls Natasha out of her musings.

“And he can find anyone?” you ask.

Sam nods with certainty.

“Greatest tracker I’ve ever worked with.” 

As if to prove his handler’s point, Redwing emits a short chirp and begins circling a spot some distance ahead, drawing all of your attention.

Sam glances back at her with a serious nod.

“Found him,” he states simply, quickening his pace toward the location to scout the area. 

You fall in step beside Natasha, keeping your word to stay close to her, though you maintain your pointed silence.

Natasha bites the inside of her cheek, glancing at you from the corner of her eye. 

With Sam far enough ahead, she seizes the opportunity to address the lingering tension. 

Natasha takes a deep breath, steeling herself as she nudges your shoulder lightly.

“Y/n,” she calls softly, her voice a quiet plea.

You don’t respond, your gaze fixed ahead, and Natasha’s heart sinks. She takes another breath, her words tumbling out earnestly. 

“I’m sorry,” she begins. “I should have told you about Redwing. It’s just…” She hesitates, searching for the right words. “Ross had his men following you, and I knew he wouldn’t stop unless there was some kind of surveillance to replace his.” 

Your eyes narrow slightly at her words, though you still don’t look her way.

Natasha hurries to clarify, her voice faltering.

“Not that you need to be watched,” she says hastily. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. That’s all. I swear.” 

Her voice falters as you continue to remain silent, and she sighs heavily, running a hand through her hair as frustration and regret simmer within her. 

“I really am—” Natasha freezes mid-sentence, her words catching in her throat as she catches the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Her eyes narrow in suspicion.

“Wait a second…” she mutters before letting out an exasperated sigh. “At what point did you forgive me?”  

You finally look at her, a playful glint in your eyes. 

“At the first ‘I’m sorry,’” you admit with a shrug.

Natasha exhales sharply, shaking her head. 

“You were messing with me this whole time?”

“Maybe a little,” you confess with a soft chuckle. “I told you, it’s cute when the charming princess gets flustered.” 

Natasha rolls her eyes, though a faint blush dusts her cheeks. Reaching out, she catches your hand, stopping you and turning you to face her.

“You know,” she mutters, a teasing smirk playing on her lips, “having your queen grovel for forgiveness might be grounds for punishment.” 

Laughing lightly, you step closer, leaning into her body, your voice dropping as you reply in a challenge.

“Then punish me, my queen.”

Natasha’s breath hitches for a fraction of a second, the warmth in your tone and the proximity sending her heart racing.

But before she can respond, you step back with a knowing grin, your eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“You’re unbelievable,” Natasha mutters under her breath, though the smile tugging at her lips betrays her true feelings.

“And you love it,” you quip before stepping to follow Sam toward Redwing’s signal.

Natasha huffs, shaking her head as she refocuses on the task at hand, though a faint, lingering smile refuses to leave her face.

The alley stretches ahead, cloaked in dim light and deepening shadows as you all silently approach the narrow entrance where muffled voices echo from within. 

The three of you press against the wall, staying hidden. 

Sam raises a finger to his lips, signaling for silence as he leans forward, peeking cautiously around the corner.

“It’s Sitwell,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “And he’s not alone.”

Natasha creeps forward to peer around the corner, her sharp gaze taking in the scene as the lord’s voice becomes clearer. 

“It’s not my fault that Commander Hill took over Rumlow’s operations before I could!” Sitwell’s voice is frantic, a mix of frustration and desperation. “She locked everything down.”

“And what of the weapons?” a second voice asks, calm yet menacing. It’s muffled, belonging to the cloaked and masked figure pinning Sitwell against the wall. 

“I—I don’t know where they are!” Sitwell stammers, his voice trembling.

The figure’s grip tightens as they brandish a knife, the blade gleaming faintly in the low light.

“We had a deal,” the figure hisses, their tone laced with quiet fury. 

Sitwell fumbles frantically, producing a glowing stone similar to the one Natasha had seen before at the tavern. He offers it to the figure, his hand shaking.

“Wait!” he pleads. “I can get you more! Rumlow wasn’t the only one who knew the man who made them—I do, too.”

The figure hesitates, taking the stone and examining it. They motion for Sitwell to continue.

The lord swallows hard, seizing the chance to plead his case.

“Rumlow had a deal with him. He was supposed to deliver secrets about Dreykov and Romanov’s Widow operations in exchange for the weapons,” Sitwell says hurriedly. “But he double-crossed him and used it for himself. Now, only one person can give him what he wants.” 

“Who?” the figure demands.

“Lady Y/n—she’s the one he’ll trade for,” Sitwell blurts out, his voice shaking.

Natasha stiffens, her head snapping toward you. Her expression hardens with a mix of alarm and fury.

Sam clenches his jaw, his focus shifting to her as if awaiting orders. 

Natasha looks between you and the alleyway, her mind racing, before coming to a decision.

She gestures for Sam to take you away.

With an acknowledging nod, Sam starts to nudge you back, but you shove his arm aside when you realize that she intends to stay. 

The masked figure tilts their head, processing Sitwell’s claim, before their attention snaps to the faint movement from your group.

Their gaze locks on Natasha, their body tensing in readiness.

In an instant, they shove Sitwell to the ground and bolts.

“Secure Sitwell!” Natasha commands Sam as she charges forward after the fleeing figure.

Natasha closes the distance quickly, her movements precise as she grabs the figure’s cloak, yanking them back.

The figure stumbles but smoothly pivots on their heel, delivering a swift kick toward Natasha’s head.

Natasha ducks under the attack, but with surprising skill, the figure follows up quick with a sharp kick aimed at her torso. She blocks it at the last second with her arms, but the impact forces her to stumble back. 

You’re immediately at her side, steadying her with firm hands.

“Thanks,” she mutters breathlessly, her eyes never leaving the figure. 

The cloaked individual looks between the two of you cautiously before they suddenly lunge, their knife flashing as they swing at Natasha with calculated precision. 

Natasha pushes you away from her side as she sidesteps each swipe, narrowly dodging the blade.

Grabbing the figure’s wrist mid-swing, Natasha twists sharply, forcing them to drop the weapon with a metallic clatter. She traps their arms in a hold, locking them in place.

“Now!” Natasha shouts to you.

Understanding her unspoken command, you move quickly, delivering a powerful kick to the figure’s side. The impact forces a grunt from them as Natasha releases her hold, letting them stumble back into the wall. 

The glowing stone slips from the figure’s hand, falling to the ground.

The moment it hits the pavement, a loud crack resounds, and an intense, blinding light explodes outward, flooding the alley with a searing brilliance.

“Get down!” Natasha yells, shielding you with her body as the light engulfs the area.

The overwhelming brightness disorients you both, your vision obscured for several long seconds. When the light finally fades, Natasha blinks rapidly, her sight still hazy as she surveys the alley.

But after a quick scan, it’s clear that the mysterious individual is gone.

Natasha curses under her breath when there’s no trace of where they went. Only the faintly glowing, fractured stone remains on the ground, pulsing weakly with light.

“Damn it,” Natasha mutters, frustration evident in her tone.

Your hand comes to rest on her arm, grounding her for a moment.

She turns to you instinctively, her eyes darting over you, scanning for any sign of injury. Her hands come up to cup your face, tilting your head slightly to inspect every angle. 

“I’m fine, Natasha,” you assure her softly, gently pulling her hands from your face and placing them back at her sides. 

The warmth in your touch lingers even as you step back, creating a subtle distance between you. 

Your eyes flick briefly to where Sam stands, your awareness of the others pulling you back into your carefully maintained composure.

The sound of a struggle draws Natasha’s attention to where Sam restrains Sitwell, who thrashes ineffectively in his grip.

“Unhand me!” Sitwell shouts, his voice sharp and panicked.

Natasha stalks over to the squirming lord, her presence looming with command.

“Who was that?” she demands, her voice cold and threatening.

Sitwell recoils at her tone, his earlier bravado crumbling into fear. 

“I don’t know!” he exclaims. “They’re just…some black market arms dealer. Rumlow had a deal with them.”

Natasha’s expression hardens, remembering the way Sitwell targeted you at the council meeting, making you experience all sorts of discomfort as he questioned you. 

“All your talk of loyalty to the kingdom, yet here you are—a traitor.” 

Her words cut like a blade, and Sitwell visibly flinches.

“No, Your Majesty,” he pleads, desperation creeping into his tone. “I was trapped in Rumlow’s deal. When he didn’t fulfill his part, they came for me. I had no choice.”

“That’s a pathetic excuse,” Sam scoffs, tightening his grip on the struggling man.

Natasha steps closer, her icy glare silencing any retort from Sitwell.

“If you want even a chance at leniency, you’ll tell me who Rumlow was working with. Who made these weapons?”

Sitwell hesitates, the weight of her demand pressing down on him.

Finally, he opens his mouth to answer.

But before he can speak, a sharp whistling sound cuts through the air.

An arrow buries itself in Sitwell’s chest. His words die on his lips as his body crumples to the ground.

Natasha’s head snaps upward, her sharp gaze locking onto a shadowy figure perched on a rooftop above. 

The figure’s silhouette is menacing, their face obscured, but Natasha doesn’t miss how their focus shifts directly to you.

“Natasha,” you whisper, your voice tinged with worry as you instinctively grab her arm, tugging her back. 

But Natasha immediately moves to shield you, pushing you behind her protectively.

Her eyes narrow dangerously as she glares up at the figure.

For a moment, they linger, their presence a silent threat, before disappearing into the darkness.

Only once Natasha confirms the area is safe does she drop her hand from your side.

Sam kneels beside Sitwell’s body, his expression grim.

“He’s gone,” he confirms.

Natasha clenches her fists, her frustration mounting.

Sitwell’s death has left more questions than answers, and her mind churns with thoughts of who these mysterious figures could be.

Before she can voice her thoughts, she notices you moving away from her side.

Natasha turns to see you kneeling beside the fractured stone, its faint glow drawing your attention.

The light pulses weakly, almost hypnotically, and your hand hovers inches above it. 

Natasha remembers her earlier experience back at the tavern when her hand had brushed the similar stone on the attacker’s glove—the flashes of the worst moment of her life and the fear that had gripped her mind and heart.

“Y/n, don’t touch that,” Natasha warns, stepping forward and reaching for your arm.

The moment her fingers graze your skin, your reaction is sudden and uncharacteristically harsh.

You swat her hand away with surprising force, startling her.

Natasha pauses and pulls back from you, her eyes widening in shock. 

“Y/n?” she calls again, softer this time, her voice laced with worry as her eyes search your face.

For a brief second, your expression is distant, your eyes unfocused. Then you blink rapidly, as though shaking off a haze, and your gaze shifts to her, confusion flickering across your features.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, your voice tinged with genuine puzzlement at her expression.

Natasha’s lips press into a thin line, her sharp eyes scrutinizing you. 

“You pushed me away when I tried to stop you,” she says cautiously.

“I did?” Your brow furrows in surprise, and your gaze darts back to the now-dimming stone. Its glow fades completely, leaving only the cracked surface behind.

Natasha watches you closely as you stare at the stone, your expression unreadable.

The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken questions.

“Y/n?” Natasha says softly, her hand reaching for your arm again.

This time, you don’t pull away. You turn to face her, your eyes meeting hers.

“You don’t remember?” she presses, her voice gentle but firm. 

You hesitate for a moment, your hands fidgeting nervously in front of you at her words, but then you shake your head lightly and give her a reassuring smile.

“I'm sorry, my body must’ve still been on the edge after everything that just happened,” you reply softly.

Natasha studies you for a moment longer, unease flickering in her chest.

Whatever had just happened, it wasn’t normal like you’re suggesting. And as much as she wants to press further, she holds back, not wanting to push you too hard.

“That’s enough for today. Let’s head back,” she finally says, her tone steady despite the worry lingering in her gaze.

You nod silently in agreement before making your way out of the alley. 

But Natasha lingers in place, turning her attention back to the fractured stone on the ground. Her mind races with the mystery of its power—and the brief, unsettling moment when it seemed like you weren’t entirely yourself.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

a/n: And we're back. 😁 Time for more mysteries, secrets, and challenges for the two. Thank you for your patience and for reading!

If you asked to be tagged and I missed it, please let me know again.

Taglist : @midastouch013, @2silverchain, @dvrkhcld, @observeowl, @x-drowned-x, @fireandblood-3, @natsxwife, @leequifey, @blacklightsposts, @srt-sah, @scar-letwidow, @likefirenrain, @autorasexy, @natsbiggestfan1, @lex13cm, @iheartjohansson, @tofu9162, @unexpected-character, @natashasilverfox, @acciowriting, @qtreesfanstuff, @mrsrushman, @inarayofmoonlight, @viosblog112, @inarayofmoonlight, @maximoff-jp, @natashasilverfox

[kooosh-sniffa]

ART DUMP!!!

Sorry if these don't look too good or if the quality of the pics isn't ideal, I tried scanning them to make them look better than just taking a photo, anyway, enjoy my doodles as I am still working in a stolitz drawing.

[gnabnahc317cb97]

Valentine's Don't Part 2

Bang Chan x Female reader

Word count: 8.1K

Synopsis: After your magical Valentine's date it seems as though Mr. Perfect ghosted you.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI, cussing/strong language, oral (m&f recieving), unprotected piv intercourse (please use condoms), rough sex (kind of), cream pie, cum play (a little), mc is turned on by the idea of him coming in her (if that's a warning?) I think that's it but if I ever miss anything please let me know and I'll add it to the warnings asap.

Just because you expected it didn’t make it hurt less. It had been two weeks since you’d gone on the most perfect Valentine’s date with Chris, and he hadn’t called or texted you. The voice in your head, the loud harsh one, started immediately and told you what you had feared all along, it was a pity date. The first few days when it would echo in your head you could drown it out with busy work or music. You told yourself to be patient it had only been a day or two or three. After the first week it got louder and by week two it was screaming and laughing at you.  

During those two weeks there were plenty of times your finger had hovered over Chris’ number debating on calling or texting him first, but you couldn’t make yourself. You couldn’t be the one to call first, surely asking him out for Valentine’s seemed desperate enough, making the first call or text when he said he would, you just couldn’t do it. Finally, you came to the conclusion that he was just a nice guy that gave you exactly what you’d asked for, a nice date with a cute guy for Valentine’s Day. He hadn’t even been obligated to do that let alone follow up, but after kissing and exchanging numbers you’d had a little hope of seeing him again.  

After two weeks of waiting and sulking your friend, who dragged you out the last time, talked you into drinks at the bar. You had agreed, not really thinking. Anything to get Chris and Valentine’s Day off your mind. You both frequented the bar often on weekends and karaoke nights. You’d gone there hundreds of times and not seen Chris, so the thought of possibly bumping into him there hadn’t even crossed your mind. You and your friend were a few drinks in talking about your work weeks when you noticed the band setting up to play. Your eyes scanned over the men hooking up instruments and then you saw Chris’ friend Changbin. 

Just as a realization was sinking into your brain you caught sight of Chris helping them. He finished hooking up a sound board and stood, stretching, a flash of skin showing when his shirt lifted, you could see a peek of his abs and the prominent line of his adonis belt. Your friend noticed you looking and glanced over following your line of sight. 

“Holy shit! That new guy with the band is fucking HOT!" Your friend exclaimed, causing you to jump in your seat and a few heads to turn, one of which was Chris. When he looked over in your direction your eyes met almost instantly. His went wide and you closed yours tightly, shaking your head as you spun in your barstool to leave. Your friend grabbed your arm to stop you  

“Hey sorry didn’t mean to embarrass you...” You tried to tell her it wasn’t her fault, you tried to pull away but before you could there stood Chris in front of you. You looked down at the floor. 

“Oh hello I’m...” Your friend attempted to greet him. Chris smiled, politely nodding and then turned to you as you still inspected the quality of the stitching on your boots. 

“y/n... I am so SO...” Your friend was more than a little surprised to discover that you two knew each other. You turned to leave again. The last thing you needed was to hear a pitiful sorry to pair with the obvious charity date he’d taken you on. If Chris wasn’t desperately trying to catch up and apologize he’d be impressed by your ability to quickly cut through the crowd. Your friend was a few steps behind him trying to figure out just what the hell was going on. Chris finally got within arm's reach of you and gently grabbed your shoulder. You whipped around quickly and it caught him off guard. 

“What Chris?!” He felt terrible, you were clearly very upset, rightfully so. 

“Was it not enough getting me to open up and be vulnerable, kissing me and then ghosting me? We absolutely need to have this awkward interaction as well?” He was speechless for a moment. 

“It’s fine Chris it was Valentine’s Day so, you know, I should have expected it, it’s always Valentine’s Day, isn’t it?” Chris’ heart ached hearing you say that. He stopped you speaking more forcefully when you tried to leave for the third time. 

“Wait PLEASE just hear me out and if you want to leave and never speak to me again after I swear, I’ll leave you alone.” You crossed your arms in front of you. 

“You have until the band starts and then I’m leaving.” He nodded in agreement. 

“Deal!” He went to grab your hand to lead you to a table so you both could sit and talk but you pulled your hand away. 

“Don’t.” He shook his head again. You and your friend both followed him over to the table where you and Chris slid into opposite sides of the booth. You turned to your friend. 

“Will you give me just a minute? I’ll meet you to head out right after I’m done here.” She nodded and decided it was a good opportunity for her to get a fresh drink. She excused herself and headed back over by the bar to give you a little privacy but still keep an eye on you in case you needed her. The guy was cute but he’d obviously hurt you which put him on your friend’s shit list. Back at the booth you were a bit calmer but the tension could still be cut with a knife. 

“y/n I’m so sorry.” You couldn’t look him in the eye, you watched your hands as you picked at your cuticles. 

“From the bottom of my heart I was not trying to ghost you.” You scoffed and managed to glance at him and roll your eyes before looking back at your hands. 

“Seriously! I swear I would never lead you on and then not call, I wouldn’t.” 

“So then why didn’t you?” The odds of you liking this answer weren’t very good but you still wanted an explanation. 

“The day after our date me and my mates in the band here went bungee jumping. I wasn’t thinking, my phone it was in my pocket and when the cord pulled at the end of my jump it went flying out into the river below.” You finally fully looked up at him with the most incredulous look on your face. Chris understood it sounded like bullshit but it was true. 

“Really! You can ask any of the guys, I was so distraught right after I lost it, they were teasing me. Look.” He slid his phone across the table showing you that it was in fact a brand new phone from the one you had typed your number into on Valentine’s Day. 

“I had to get a new phone; I usually update my contacts to the cloud but it had only been the day before so yours wasn’t saved yet. I swear I wanted to see you again, I want to see you again. I’ve been coming to the bar to help the guys set up almost every night they’re here hoping to bump into you. I thought it would be creepy if I showed up at your place, especially since you hadn’t called or text.” You nodded in understanding and looked down at your hands again. Chris took a chance; he reached out and covered your hands with his own. You looked up and he had a sad look on his face. 

“Why didn’t you ever call?” He asked sincerely. You were upset he hadn’t called so you must have wanted to see him again, but if that was the case how come you had never called or texted him either. His new phone was the same number, but he’d never heard from you. 

“I dunno. I didn’t want to seem clingy or any more desperate than I already did when I asked you out.” Chris’ brows creased. 

“Desperate? No, no I thought the way you approached me was so confident. My first impression of you was you were so funny and...well...” He looked at his own hands as they held yours. 

“sexy.” He said shyly. 

“I’ve missed you making me laugh, I’ve missed hearing yours, and I'd be lying if I said I didn’t miss kissing you too.” He squeezed your hands gently and you finally held his gaze. He had the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. 

“Please y/n, give me another chance?” He chewed at his bottom lip as he waited for your answer. You moved your hands out of his grasp and he frowned a little until he saw you grabbing his phone off the table and typing your number into it. 

“If you lose this one skydiving that’s it.” Chris laughed and nodded, taking the phone back from you. 

“I’m gonna head out with my friend. I’ll talk to you.” His smile beamed. 

“You will. Promise!” You went and met your friend back over at the bar. You walked up by her and ordered a drink. She looked at you waiting. You really hoped she would just drop it and not ask questions but that was not in your friend’s nature to do. The bartender handed you your drink, you paid and quietly nodded thanking her. 

“What in the fresh hell was all that about?” You sighed heavily, took a sip of your fresh drink and started at the beginning glancing over at Chris and his friends from time to time. Stealing looks at his profile, his strong jaw and nose, the dimples that appeared when he laughed with one of his buddies, his pouty lips that you had tasted. 

“You bitch why didn’t you tell me!?” She smiled as she playfully smacked your shoulder.  

“Because it was crazy and I didn’t think he’d actually show up.” She shook her head. 

“Yea but he did and seems like he made quite an impression on you.” You took another sip of your drink and shrugged your shoulders. Even after his explanation, you didn’t expect much. You refused to get your hopes up just to have them dashed again. 

“He also didn’t call me. I don’t know, I guess we’ll see.” You told your friend as you finished your drink. 

“Let’s go home.” And see you did, because true to his word, Chris texted you the very next day. When you saw his name flash across your screen you couldn’t ignore your heart fluttering. He actually texted? You took a deep breath and opened the thread. 

Chris- Hey 😊 

You- Oh hey Chris 

Chris- Do you have any dinner plans tonight? 

You- Uh well no I don’t 

Chris- I know a really good Vietnamese place, best pho ever! Would you maybe want to go with me and take a walk by the canal? 

You still weren’t sure; you were hesitant to say yes. Your fingers hovered over your keyboard as you considered how to answer him. He had asked for a second chance and you had agreed, what was the point if you were only going to turn him down and not actually give him a second chance, especially when he was clearly trying. 

You- okay what time? 

Chris- I'll pick you up at 6:30? 

You- see you then 

Chris- can't wait 😊 

As soon as plans were made butterflies decided to flock to your stomach. You hurried and got busy with some work around the house to occupy yourself so you didn’t panic the whole time. About an hour before Chris was supposed to be there you took a shower and got ready. You had decided since you were going on a walk after dinner to just wear jeans, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes. It was nothing fancy, you didn’t even bother putting make-up on really, some mascara and lip balm, and left your air-dried hair down. You started second guessing your choice of clothes the closer and closer it got to time. When Chris finally knocked on your door you were relieved to see he was also wearing jeans and a hoodie, along with a baseball hat turned backwards that stray curls turned up around the edge of. 

“Hey wow, you look great.” He smiled and leaned in kissing your cheek, gently grabbing your hand and squeezing it. 

“Oh... thanks, I didn’t really do much.” Chris shook his head. 

“You don’t need to, you’re beautiful.” You could feel your face burning and hoped Chris didn’t notice. You did what you always did when you were nervous. 

“Thank you. You look like a sexy grim reaper.” Chris laughed. 

“You think I’m sexy?” You pulled your door closed and turned around speechless. 

“Uh well, I mean...” He leaned in and kissed your cheek again.  

“I’m just teasing, come on let's get some food.” You let out a deep breath laughing and headed to the car. On the way to the restaurant, you couldn’t help but notice Chris was being very handsy. Not in an inappropriate or uncomfortable way just if he could have a hand on you, he did. On your back as you walked to the car, gently holding your arm as you got in, his hand through most of the drive sat comfortably on your knee.  

Once you got to the restaurant you were seated quickly, you placed your orders then you and Chris both talked while you waited. He showed you the pictures on his friend’s Instagram of their bungee jumping adventure including one of him looking over the rail of the bridge. The caption below said ‘Chris ready to jump without the cord after losing his phone’ You laughed a little and then saw the top comments on the photo. 

Chrispy97- I give a shit about the phone it was the number on it that was important! 

HanjiQuokka- We know you lost your girlfriend’s number, you whined about it for an hour. 

Darkbinnie- and every day since  

Chrispy97- 1. Fuck you both I didn’t whine 2. You’d have been whining too if you had met her. 

Your cheeks started to feel warm and Chris closed his phone quickly, his ears turning a bright shade of red when he realized you had seen his comments. Luckily for him your food was arriving at the table. A perfect distraction. It looked and smelled delicious. Sitting in front of you were two steaming hot bowls of noodles, fresh herbs, limes, bean sprouts, and a variety of sauces. You both started adding your choice of ingredients to your bowls and then just kind of started talking about your day as if it was the most normal thing, as if you did it every day. About halfway through your ginormous bowl of soup you tapped out. 

“If I eat anymore I’m gonna have to be rolled out of here in a wagon.” You didn’t think there was anything you liked hearing more than Chris’ laugh. You especially liked it when his laugh made his dimples appear and his eyes scrunch up and the unexpected little squeak that he made every time. 

“I’d have to agree, I think I’ve hit my limit. I’ll go pay and we’ll head down to the canal if you’re still up for it.” You shook your head, a walk after that meal was needed. If you got in his car right now, you’d fall into a coma. 

“I’m just gonna run to the bathroom quickly.” He nodded. 

“I’ll meet you out front.” Chris headed up to the register and you to the bathroom. You washed your hands and popped a mint in your mouth, then reapplied your lip balm and gave yourself a once over to make sure you weren’t wearing food in your teeth or on your clothes. After the all clear you headed out to meet Chris and headed down to the trail by the canal.  

The sun had gone down while the two of you ate and it had turned into a pretty beautiful night. You could see lots of stars and the moon was bright. Your sweatshirt was the perfect choice since it had gotten just a little cooler outside. Chris had grabbed your hand and held it pretty early on into the walk, his fingers laced through yours and squeezed and he continued walking as if it were nothing. Chris told you a little about when he was a dancer, he talked about his family and dog, his job and why he chose it over dancing in the long run. You stuck to telling him surface level stuff at first but Chris was good at pulling your layers away, peeling the onion that was your walls built up for protection and you really started to open up a bit to him.  

After your walk Chris drove you home. You both were sitting in his car in front of your place. You had talked through dinner and the walk and you still were chatting and laughing.  

“You look really beautiful tonight.” Chris said out of the blue once both of your laughter had died down. You could feel yourself blushing. You shook your head at him. 

“I’m just in a sweatshirt Chris, it’s really nothing special.” His hand came up and brushed the hair on your shoulder back as he looked into your eyes deeply. 

“Your clothes have nothing to do with it at all. God look at those eyes...” He admired aloud and you were definitely flushed and flustered as he leaned in closer.  

“And lips...” Chris closed the space between you and softly pressed his lips to yours. Your hands rested on his shoulders and slid up his neck until your fingers thread through the curls at his nape. You tilted your head and deepened the kiss as Chris cupped your cheek and nibbled at your bottom lip. You sighed and melted against him as his tongue teased and entered your mouth. You had never liked kissing someone as much as you liked kissing Chris. His lips were so soft, his kiss was slow and deep and made you a little lightheaded. You had been making out in his car for a good minute before you finally broke for a full breath of air, your foreheads pressed together as you both caught your breath. You wanted more.

“Um, do... uh... do you want to come inside?” You were surprised to hear it come from your own mouth and Chris looked to be equally surprised. His expression quickly morphed into one of endearment. His thumb softly grazed your cheek back and forth as he took a deep stabilizing breath. 

“I would love that y/n I would, but I think we should wait.” He pushed some stray hair out of your eyes. Your face fell as well as your hands away from him and into your lap. You wrung your hands that were suddenly the only thing you were interested in looking at. You felt so stupid suggesting it, you’d only been on two dates, why did that come out of your mouth. The voice was back telling you way to blow it. Chris saw the look on your face and the immediate change in your mood, he quickly jumped into damage control. 

“Hey believe me, I WANT to, okay? I really REALLY do but I also really like you and I want to give this a real chance, give us a real chance. Okay?” You swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head. 

“Come on I’ll walk you up.” When you got up to your door Chris pulled you close to him by your hips and made you look into his eyes. 

“I’ll text you tomorrow, okay?” You shook your head and looked down again, still feeling a bit embarrassed. 

“Okay Chris.” He tilted your chin up, leaned in, and kissed you but he could tell something was still off.  

“I don’t like leaving you upset.” You shook your head. 

“I’m not upset Chris...” He was going to interrupt but you stopped him. 

“I’m not upset, I shouldn’t have suggested you coming in so soon and I’m just kind of... embarrassed.” Chris cringed. 

“I’m sor...” Now you interrupted. 

“Please don’t be sorry, you were the one thinking clearly. You want to take things slow and I agree we should. I understand and respect that so please don’t apologize for it.” Chris nodded and this time you leaned in and kissed him. It was soft, just plump lips pressed together. 

“Goodnight Chris.” You whispered against his lips. 

“Goodnight y/n.” 

At around eight am the next day your text notification went off. You had never grabbed your phone so quickly. It was Chris, of course it was Chris, telling you good morning, hoping you had a good day. From that point on you and him text good morning and good night every day. Even if it was a super busy day and you didn’t get to talk, you both still texted your good morning and good night. You had been on a few more dates as well.

Texting and talking to Chris was effortless and you wondered how that was possible. When you were together you tried to listen but felt like all you did was stare at him he was so beautiful. He did have this uncanny ability to get you to open up though. Maybe because he seemed so genuine, he was never putting on a front or trying to be someone he wasn’t. He was just Chris, ex dancer, foodie, and all-around good human being. As you got to know all these things about Chris, and him about you, you both felt something surmounting.  

The sexual tension between the two of you was building each time you saw each other. Lips and hands roamed the other, lingered longer. There was one heated make out session on your couch when you’d had a movie night. You were straddling Chris, his hands traveled up your shirt, you thought he was going to grab your breasts but they came to rest on your waist and his warm hands gently rubbed against your skin before trailing down. Two of his fingers toyed with the waist band of your pants, he gently ran them along the sensitive skin but they moved no further than that. Chris’ phone going off at full volume burst the little bubble the two of you were in that night. 

This particular night Chris had made all the plans down to the dress he bought for you. A dress... not typically something you would wear, but he had asked you to humor him, so you did. The dress was the only thing you had any idea about, he left you in the dark with the rest of his plan. The dress was beautiful, made with a flowy soft fabric cut tea length. The top had capped sleeves and buttoned up the front with a scoop neck. Since it was so soft and modest you felt very comfortable in it even though it wasn’t your usual choice in attire. When Chris got there you saw that he was wearing a black short sleeved button up shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks, his signature curls a little more kempt than usual. His shirt unbuttoned one or two lower than normal giving you a good glimpse of the lines of his firm chest. Chris whistled and took your hand holding it up for you to do a little twirl. 

“Damn baby girl. You’re stunning.” You did your twirl, your skirt twirling with you and gave him a curtsy when he complimented you. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” You pulled the front of his shirt open and peeked down, Chris swatted you away laughing, his ears turning red. 

“Hey hey hey.” You both laughed. 

“I was just curious.” He side eyed you with a smirk. 

“Come on we’re gonna be a little late.” You were about to ask just what you were going to be late to but before you could Chris’ hand was at your back ushering you to his car. It wasn’t long before you were pulling up to what looked like an abandoned building. Chris led you up a set of stairs, down a hall and then through a door into a brightly lit room. When your eyes got adjusted you realized you were in a dance studio with six other nicely dressed people. You stopped in your tracks making Chris stop too. Your eyes were big and you looked nervous.  

You looked nervous because you were. Your Valentine’s date had been the one and only time you had ever really danced. There were only three other couples, it was a small group, small enough for everyone to see you mess up and look like and idi... before your internal monolog got going Chris turned to you. 

“It’s okay, it’s nothing serious we’re just having fun. The steps don’t matter. Just follow me and feel the music, I’ll do the rest. Trust me okay? Do you trust me?” He squeezed your hand and you felt a little better, still nervous but able to function. You nodded. 

“I trust you Chris.” He winked, making you crack a smile then led you over to the group. It turns out they were all friends of his from his dancing days which made you feel a little better and more nervous at the same time. You knew they would be nice but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of them. One of the girls who’s dress was far more risqué than yours came up by you and Chris alone smiling. Chris was already rolling his eyes. 

“Heyyy Chris.” He waved half-heartedly. 

“Hey Cher.” She looked at him and then at you and Chris let out a huff of breath. 

“Cher this is y/n, y/n this is Cher, she’s...” She cut him off before he could finish the sentence. 

“His ex.” Chris rolled his eyes again and you were suddenly feeling very intimidated. This girl was gorgeous, and she had danced with and kissed Chris too, probably more. You felt a little queasy. Chris looked over at you and you looked pale. He squeezed your hand. 

“You okay?” You quickly snapped out of your tailspin of thoughts and shook your head. Chris walked you over away from the group to get some air. He said that you were just waiting for one more person to start, which confused you because that would make it an odd number of people, then Chris explained. 

“It’s Minho he’ll be the... instructor for the night.” One of the other guys back in the group groaned. 

“Oh god don’t let him hear you call him that, we’ll never hear the end of it and he’ll be Instructor Minho the rest of our lives.” Everyone laughed. Someone from behind the group spoke, halting the last of the chuckling. 

“I will now and forever be known as Instructor Minho.” Everyone groaned as you rejoined the group and the same guy from before nudged Chris. 

“Way to go Christopher.” Everyone laughed again and greeted the last member of the nights group. 

“Alright everyone, get your partner and take your positions.” Chris grabbed your hand and led you to one side of the dance floor and you didn’t miss Cher’s eyes following your every movement. Chris held your hands facing you. 

“Remember Valentine’s Day?” You shook your head and Chris put his hands on your hips. You followed his lead and put your hands on his shoulders just like you’d done when you were dancing on Valentine’s Day. Then Minho called out. 

“Okay we’ll start with the waltz.” Chris grabbed one of your hands and threaded his fingers through as Minho walked over and pressed play on the radio. You were nervously looking around trying to spot Cher and see if she was still staring and then Chris pulled you closer. 

“Step forward when I step back and back when I step forward, I’ve got you yea?” You smiled and nodded and the music started playing. You were a little stiff at first, but Chris just looked into your eyes and led you through the dance, twirling and spinning through the steps. The way your dress moved with the dance made it clear why Chris had chosen it. Before you knew it the song ended and Minho gave out his unrequested observations. He came to you and Chris last. Cher was already smirking. Minho looked at you and you braced yourself for the same scathing review he’d given the others but the sharpness of his features softened. 

“You started a little stiff but once you loosened up, towards the end it wasn’t too bad.” You let out the breath you had been holding as if this were some audition. Minho turned to Chris and his cat like eyes narrowed again. 

“Stick to your day job Christopher.” They all laughed except Cher this time and Minho walked back over to the radio. You did a couple more dances, each time Minho giving his expert opinion that no one really asked for and Cher staring through you and Chris. Then came the tango. Chris leaned in. 

“There’s a bit more spinning in this one, just stay loose. I won’t let you trip or fall.” You shook your head and looked into his eyes. 

“I know you won’t.” Chris smiled and kissed your cheek. Your face started burning as your eyes darted around to see if any of the others had seen that, if Cher had. They all seemed to be in their own bubbles though. The music started and Chris’ hips swayed with the rhythm, yours mimicking his. You took a few steps and Chris spun you out and then back in, his body pressed against yours. Suddenly you were nose to nose sharing the same air. Chris’ hand trailed down your arm and grasped your hand bringing it up to join the other on his shoulder, your fingers threaded together around his neck as his hips moved in tandem with yours. Every move you felt more of his firm body pressing against you, his hands gripping your hips firmly and you could feel yourself starting to overheat. The music ended with you out of breath but not just from the dancing. 

“Alright alright enough of this stuffy formal shit, let’s have some fun!” Minho flipped a switch and half the lights went off. He pressed something else and different colored lights started spinning around the room, when he hit the button on the radio again some r&b song started playing. Chris pulled you off towards a corner away from everyone else for a little privacy. When he faced you he pulled you close and wrapped his arms around you. You rested yours on his shoulders, your fingers twirling pieces of his curls and you both just moved together no counting, no steps just your bodies pressed together swaying. One of Chris’ hands came up and cupped your cheek, then his lips were pressed to yours and you melted. No one else in that room mattered at that point not even Cher, kissing Chris was the only thing happening, the only thing that mattered. 

“I’ve wanted to do that all night.” You smiled, your foreheads pressed together. Chris adjusted a bit somehow pulling you closer and his thigh was suddenly between your legs your skirt draped over his leg. Both his hands on your hips again guiding you to move against him. You clenched at the idea of riding that strong thigh and you wonder if he felt it. When the music finally stopped you were blushing, breathless, and a little sweaty. Minho’s voice cut through the silence and you both snapped out of it. 

“Is there a bathroom I can use?” You whispered. You needed to splash a little water on your face and cool down a bit. Chris shook his head and showed you where the bathrooms were just outside of the doors you’d walked through, Cher watched intently. In the bathroom you ran the cold water and dabbed a damp paper towel across your face and neck. You felt better immediately, you were getting hot from dancing and the tension between you and Chris, which always lingered, was more prevalent than ever that night. You were willing to wait as long as he wanted but it was getting harder and harder to not touch him in every way and everywhere that you wanted.  

You tossed the paper towel in the trash and headed out to meet back up with Chris. You pushed the door open, walked out into the dark hall and you were met by two people. As your eyes adjusted to the dark hall you realized it was two people kissing, one of the couples must have snuck out into the hall for a little privacy. 

“Oh! Sor-” You went to excuse yourself and once you could see clearly you saw Chris and Cher standing there inches apart now facing you. Your eyes went wide and you couldn’t stop the whimper that left you. 

“Sorry to interrupt.” You choked out. You bowed your head and walked off with tears welling in your eyes. Chris pushed Cher off of him.   

“y/n wait!” He went to go after you and Cher stopped him.  

“Sabotaging my relationship isn’t going to make me get back together with you so get over it already Cher. Fuck!” Chris turned and started after you. You burst out the front door onto the street and took a deep breath of the cool night air. Tears were still streaming down your face as you looked around. That’s when you remembered Chris had driven you there and you had no idea where to go. Chris came rushing out the door just a minute or two after you. He was relieved when he found you. 

“Oh thank go-” You backed away from him and he stopped. When he saw your face tear streaked, your eyes puffy and red his heart broke. 

“y/n...I swear that wasn’t what you think.” You turned to walk away and Chris ran and blocked you. 

“Please listen! I didn’t even know she was going to be here tonight.” You turned and started walking in the opposite direction. 

“Well, whether you knew or not, clearly you have unfinished business so...” Chris ran around and blocked you again gently gripping your shoulders this time. 

“She might, I don’t. The day I found out she was cheating on me I was done. She’s hoping for something that died a long time ago.” You looked at him with tears in your eyes and he continued. 

“y/n you’re who I want. I was waiting for you to come out of the bathroom. Cher came out of the studio and when you walked out she threw herself on me and kissed me. I’m so sorry I never meant for any of this to happen I just wanted to plan a special date because you deserve our first night to be special.” 

“Our first what?” You asked. 

“I planned all of this with the hope of us spending the night together and now it’s ruined, she ruined everything.” You stood there speechless and Chris sighed. 

“Come on I’ll take you home.” He walked towards his car and opened the passenger door for you. You walked over and stood in front of him. 

“We don’t have to let her ruin it if we don’t want to.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him. Chris was caught off guard at first but quickly deepened the kiss. He held you and kissed you with so much passion it took your breath away. His tongue invaded your mouth and he pulled you closer, his hands roaming down your body stopping on your ass. Chris squeezed and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you. He started kissing down your jaw and neck and you thread your fingers through his hair tilting your head back as he ravaged you. He finally forced himself to remove his lips from your skin, both of you panting and blushing, you chewing at your bottom lip. 

“We need to get out of here before I... well... just... we should go.” Chris helped you into the car. You giggled at him as he then ran around and got in, taking off towards your house post haste. When you got home Chris walked you up to your door. You unlocked and opened it, then turned to Chris. The car ride had been filled with comfortable silence and the radio was softly playing, underneath the both of you were buzzing with anticipation though. Now you stood in front of each other in that same silence, that same tension until Chris finally broke it. 

“Look I just wanna say, about Che-” He started but you kissed him cutting off what he was saying.  

“You don’t have to explain. Forget her.” You kissed him again. 

“Forget who...” He joked and you laughed. Chris held your face, his palms rested against your cheeks, his thumbs gently grazing your skin. Then he kissed you and backed you through your open doorway, hungrier than he’d ever kissed you before, his hands running down your body. He closed your front door by turning and pushing you against it. He was rough but gentle at the same time somehow. He lifted you and your legs wrapped around Chris’ midsection, his hands firmly gripping the back of your thighs under your bunched up skirt, holding you up as his lips left a wet trail down your neck and chest. 

“God you’re so beautiful,” He whispered against your skin, his lips unwilling to part from your body. 

“So beautiful.” His lips were on yours again devouring you little by little. You ran your fingers through his curls and gently tugged earning a low growl deep from his chest. 

“Fuck Chris if you keep making noises like that you’re gonna end me.” He laughed and his warm breath spread across your skin. He started unbuttoning the top of your dress as he sucked a mark under your ear. 

“Is this okay, tell me if I’m moving too fast...” You stopped him. He stood there wrapped in your legs, dress half open, hickey getting darker on your neck by the minute. You ran your hands down his chest, grabbed his shirt and ripped it open, buttons flying across your foyer. You pulled his sleeves down and tossed his shirt aside. When you got a glimpse of his firm body unobstructed your mouth practically watered for him. You only had one request. 

“Don’t stop.” Chris kissed you again as he unfastened the rest of your buttons exposing the pretty lace bra you had on underneath. The top of your breasts were spilling out of the cups. Chris pressed you more firmly against the door with his hips, his hard on pressing against your throbbing center. His hands gripped your breasts over your bra squeezing them before pulling the cups down and exposing your hard nipples. His mouth was wrapped around one and you gripped his curls with both hands as your head tilted back against the door. His mouth felt amazing, he only let go of the one nipple to suck on the other. 

“Chris mmmplease...” He looked up at you, his eyes were dark and lust blown, you’d never seen him so ravenous. 

“Please what baby girl, tell me what you want.” You pecked his lips softly and looked at him with big wanting eyes. 

“Take me to bed Chris.” His heart swelled and he kissed you, his lips gentle, not rushed in the slightest anymore. He turned and headed towards the hall to your room, carrying you with your legs still locked around his torso. Once you were by your bed Chris put you down and as soon as your toes hit the ground you immediately pulled the shoulders of your dress down and let it pool around your feet. You stood in front of Chris in cute matching lace panties and bra. His mouth dropped and he could feel his cock straining against his briefs.  

“Holy shit.” You, in a sudden burst of bold energy, reached for Chris’ fly and started to unbutton his pants. The way the lines of his firm muscles trailed into those pants made you eager to get them off and see just what they led to. When Chris’ fly was open you leaned in and kissed him as you slid your hand inside his pants and felt his length over his underwear. You gave him a gentle squeeze and felt him twitch in your hand as he groaned. 

“Fuck that feels good...” You hummed and started stroking him over the fabric. 

“Chris?” He made himself open his eyes and look at you while you still rubbed his cock. 

“Can I suck you off?” He was surprised by your request. 

“You want to?” You gave him a small nod. 

“I do, I want to taste you Chris, want to make you feel good.” He got a little lightheaded just thinking about your sweet lips wrapped around his cock. 

“Fuck okay baby girl yea, if you want to.” You got down on your knees in front of him and pulled down his pants and briefs. When his erection sprung free from its confines he grabbed it and started stroking with one hand and gently rested his other in your hair. You licked your lips to wet them and then they were on Chris’ cock and he thought he may actually malfunction. He gently gripped your hair as you took more of him into your mouth. 

“Yes, so good, just a little more.” The tip of Chris’ dick hit the back of your throat and you gagged pulling off, a little string of spit following. You stroked his cock as you looked up at him. 

“It’s so big! Mmm...” You took him into your mouth again and started bobbing up and down, your tongue flat pressing on the bottom of his cock. Every time the tip rubbed against your tongue he shuttered. Chris gathered your hair into a ponytail to keep it out of your face, he had to watch you as his dick disappeared into your mouth over and over while you sucked and hummed in satisfaction. He groaned. 

“It feels so fucking good baby, does it taste good?” You looked up at him nodding and humming as you continued sucking and Chris honest to god thought he was going to cum. 

“You’re so pretty when you look up at me like that baby girl.” He gently ran the back of his hand down your cheek as you continued looking into his eyes while you went down on him. 

“So pretty. Come here beautiful.” Chris pulled you up and kissed you. His hands made quick work of your bra and panties, and he laid you back on your bed. He ran his hands up your thighs and spread your legs apart. He looked up at you and raised one of his perfectly arched eyebrows at you silently asking permission which you granted in the form of a small nod. That was all Chris needed and his face was buried between your legs eager to repay you the pleasure you had just been giving him. 

“Oh my god! Chris!” He had you going zero to a hundred really quick. You clamped your thighs around his head but that only egged him on. The way he just knew where to lick what to suck when to hum, he knew what he was doing. 

“Chris... I’m... FUck...” You gripped his curls and tried not to pull too hard as you came on his tongue. Waves of pleasure lapping at you as Chris did. Chris crawled up and caged you in is arms. He nuzzled against your cheek and then softly kissed it. 

“You’re even prettier when you cum baby girl.” You finally were able to open your eyes and look up at him. His eyes almost sparkled as he looked down at you and it made your heart swell. You kissed him soft and sweet and he smiled as you pushed him to sit back against your headboard. You climbed in his lap and his hands instantly found your ass and squeezed. 

“You’re gonna ride it?” You bit your lip and nodded. Chris squeezed your ass again pulling you forward so your pussy grazed across his cock and he could feel how soaked you were for him. Then you lined him up with your entrance and slowly started sitting on Chris’ cock. When he was buried deep inside you there was a collective gasp from the both of you. 

“S-so so bii-big, feels s-so good.” Chris got himself together so that he could speak again. 

“It’s big baby girl? You take it so well.” You rolled your hips feeling him rub deep inside you. 

“Fuck! Do that again oh my god!” Chris moaned out and you rolled your hips again, you could feel your clit rubbing against him and Chris groaned out again. The sounds he made were so pretty, like music to your ears you rolled them again and this time Chris growled and sat up wrapping an arm around you, pushing you all the way down on his cock roughly and kissed you. 

“You trying to make me cum inside you? Is that what you want baby girl?” You shook your head no but the look on your face said otherwise. You did, you wanted to feel his warmth all over in everyway. You wanted him to cum deep inside you. He wrapped your legs around him and laid you back on the bed again still buried deep inside you. 

“I’ll give you my cum if you want it but there’s one thing you need to know.” He leaned down and kissed you as he gave you a deep thrust making you moan out. 

“Whaaat...” He kissed you again and then whispered against your lips. 

“Once I fill you up, you’re mine.” You clenched around his cock when he said that. Chris sat up and grabbed a hold of your hips for leverage. He looked down at you panting and blushing underneath him. He thrust in and out a couple of times testing the waters so to speak and then his pace quickened and he pushed harder, deeper. He licked two fingers and played with your clit as he fucked you raw. 

“Chris’ it’s so big god feels so good! Fuck me! Fuck me harder!” He leaned down, caging you in his arms and did just that. 

“Good girl yes, fuck so pretty, taking my cock so well, you want it hard I’ll give it to you hard baby girl.” He started to rail you, your legs wrapped around him rocking into him at his rhythm, taking him whole, taking him hard. 

“Let go baby let go for me.” His panting whisper of a plea in your ear sent you teetering into your second orgasm of the night and while the other was like waves this was a tsunami. It took you out entirely. All you could do was hold onto Chris solid body, wrapped around him as he continued fucking you harder chasing his own release. 

“You gonna let me fill you up baby girl? Fu-fuck you’re gonna take my cum yea?” You moaned out his name still riding the high of your orgasm. 

“Chris!! Fuck yes give it to me, I’m yours fuck it deep want all of you inside me.” Chris sat up and pulled his hips flush with yours burying himself to the hilt, holding you down on his cock as he came deep inside you. 

“Fuck! Oh god fuck I’m coming baby.” You were coming down finally and started squirming a little still trying to find some friction. 

“Aht aht baby girl be good and hold still while I give it to you.” Chris thrusted deeper as his seed got pushed further inside you. When he was spent he fell over next to you on the bed gasping for air and laughing a little, giddy from the head buzz from his orgasm. You reached over and stroked the head of his cock making him twitch from overstimulation. A bead of cum leaked from his tip and you leaned down licking it off. Chris’ whole body shuddered. He looked at you eyes slightly narrowed playfully. You ran your fingers through your slit and rubbed the cum leaking from you against your clit and then sucked your fingers. 

“Fuck baby girl give me fifteen minutes. Since you wanna taste my cum so bad I’m gonna unload in that pretty mouth next.” 

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

[creation-key]

Imagine being broken up with and you feel absolutely nothing in the moment. How would the other person react, happy, sad, confused? Here’s my take:

It’s freezing cold outside, the sun hidden behind clouds, taking away any and all warmth from the morning. It’s 8:00 am, way to early for you to be out but you’re boyfriend of 3 years Nicholas, has asked you out for a serious talk. You’re not sure what for because he just got back from his publicity tour just 2 days ago.

You choose not to worry about it too much since he asked to meet you at the Starbucks you had met him at just 4 years ago. You think about the day vividly. How busy it was at that time of day, you being a barista at the time absolutely slammed with orders when he walked through the front doors. You immediately finished up whatever order you were working on, calling out the name of the patron it belonged to before walking over to him.

“Hi, welcome in! How can I help you?” You had asked with a smile. He smiled back of course, leaning in to get a good look at your name tag you assume because just then he responds.

“Well thank you y/n, I just came for a venti vanilla blonde latte. I see you guys are a swamped today huh?” You nod your head, typing in his order, while continuing the small talk.

“Yeah, everyone needs coffee during their lunch break I guess. You’re lucky there was no line when you walked in.” You had joked before reading out his total and scanning his app.

“Oh I don’t believe it was luck, in fact, I think the universe wanted us to meet today.” You just giggled at that and got making his drink. Ever since that day for a year straight he visited that Starbucks at the same time in hopes that he would see you. Eventually he gathered up the courage to ask you out, which of course you said yes. Like all relationships you’ve had your ups and downs, but for the most part you were pretty positive this would be the man who you’d marry and have kids with. And up until now you were sure he felt the same.

“I’m sorry what did you say?” You blink twice, thinking that maybe you heard him wrong.

“I said that I think we should take a break y/n. With me having to go to LA for months at a time for roles and auditions, it’s just not fair to either of us if we stay together.” He tries to reason.

“What’s wrong with what we’ve been doing?” You question thoroughly confused. He sighs loudly.

“It’s not enough. I’m sorry, but I want you to be near me all the time. You know my love language is quality time! That’s not going to change, and my agent wants me to move to LA but I’ve been holding off because of you, which has caused me to miss out on some roles too.” You look at him dumbly, just trying to wrap your head around what he’s saying.

“So, just so that I understand correctly. You want to take a “break” which is essentially a break up.” He tries to interrupt but you keep going-

“And your reasoning for this is because of the distance and me not being by your side 24/7?” He stays silent for a little, playing with the rim of his iced latte.

“I mean not exactly but yeah I guess.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“You guess?” You raise an eyebrow at him, but decide not to dwell on it. Taking a moment to think to yourself while he goes on and on about your relationship and whatever.

You’ve always been someone who goes with the flow plus you’re an adventurous person who loves to travel so the fact that he’s never once brought up the idea of you just moving to LA with him makes you think that there’s a bigger reason as to why he wants to take a break from your relationship. And the only thing that you can think of is that he met someone else while shooting Monsters. Of course you’re not going to ask him about it, because if he wanted to tell you he would of, and you just hope that he had the decency to break up with you 1st before acting on any feelings he has for the other person. So with this in your head you cut him off.

“Okay we should break up.” He just stares at you confused, his mouth agape.

“What?” You roll your eyes smiling a little.

“i said we should break up. You know instead of taking a break. It’s just easier that way. Clears up any confusion and heartbreak in case you decide to date someone else.” You hint at him maybe meeting someone else but don’t give him a chance to rebut.

“Plus I’m not going to beg you to stay in a relationship that you don’t want to. Obviously if you brought me all the way out here so early in the morning for this talk, you’re unhappy in our relationship. And although it sucks we’re not going to be together anymore. I honestly just hope that you’re able to find someone who can make you feel happier than i could’ve!” You smile at him softly, reaching over to squeeze his hand, that’s been resting on the table, before letting go and collecting your things.

“y/n wait. What just happened?” He stops you from leaving.

“What do you mean? You just broke up with me.” You tilt your head sideways in confusion.

“Also going forward so that we can make this transition easier for the both of us. I’m probably going to either block or delete your number that way I don’t text or call you. I won’t take you off of socials though since I’m never really on there and if you really need me you can contact me there. As for any gifts given throughout our 4 years of knowing each other, do you want me to give those back? Oh and what about your hoodies that I have?” I ask taking out my phone to start a list.

“Wait can you just stop for a second. What are you even on about? You done? Just like that. No fight at all?” I stare at him dumbfounded.

“I’m sorry what did you expect me to do? I already told you I was sad that you wanted to break up and that I’d be blocking your number. Plus I already explained that I’m not going to beg to keep you in a relationship that you’re unhappy in? Plus the problems you gave me for breaking up all have an easy fix, and I’m sure you already knew that, so that just leads me to believe that there’s another person in the mix. And as much as i love you Nic, I’m not going to “fight for your love” I deserve more than that. And just because it’s you doesn’t mean I’ll change my mind.” You get up from your seat once more, swinging your bag onto your shoulder.

“So this is it?” He asks a little teary eyed. But you just look at him puzzled.

“Nicholas you do realize that you broke up with me right?” He nods his head somberly.

“Yea, but I’m starting to regret it now.” You just nod your head at him.

“That’s okay, just give it a few weeks. I usually regret big decisions I’ve made right after I make them.” You give him a small smile.

“Keep the hoodies and gifts. They’re yours now anyways.” He stands up as well now.

“Okay.” You say, now at a loss for words.

“Can we hug?” He questions timidly, honestly looking a little scared to ask. You think for a little before answering.

“Sure.” You open your arms for a hug, as he engulfs you. You breathe him in one last time. A tear falling down your face, disappearing into his shirt that he’s wearing. You step back wiping away its trail left before waving to him and walking out towards your car, where you immediately break down blasting Adele.

[themadlu]

I absolutely love Zelie!

Could you write something set right after the game ends? She is tired as hell and overstressed and Astarion tries to make her feel better?

Thanks for the ask @spacebarbarianweird! I'm so happy you like her, as I love Tiriel! Wonder if they'd get along, uh.

Premise, I have never done asks (unless it's for a writing exercise) nor I am good (capable?) of writing fluff. So beware, there's as much fluff I can muster here, with a smidge of angst.

TW: none.

Tags: end-of-game spoilers (I haven't finished it yet, so if something is incorrect sorry!), fluff (kinda?), these two love in quality time and acts of service.

Hope you like it!

The charred edges of a frayed shirt stare at Astarion from the floor. He glares at them, at what they represent, in contempt: his return to the shadows. All that unprecedented (and mostly unwilling) heroism he displayed in fighting the Netherbrain served him nothing. Nothing. Not even saving Baldur’s Gate makes him worthy of a life in the sun, it seems, because, as soon as that jiggly monstrosity fell to its death, Astarion began to burn and the hunger tore at his insides.  

On the run, again, nothing more than a ravenous monster lurking in the shadows. 

(Somewhere, his conscience reminds him that real monsters don’t have impossible little heroes shielding them from the harming light with their own broken bodies.)

The elf laughs bitterly at that, hissing when his grimace irritates the still-healing skin around his mouth. 

And yet…

Steps resonate further down the hallway with a familiarity that makes his ears twitch in recognition and his body tense in eagerness. 

…she’s here. 

Zélie opens the door of their shared bedroom (Only theirs, finally.), closing it promptly behind her to block the stray sun rays from the corridor’s windows. A funereal darkness, one that Astarion is all too well-acquainted with, shrouds the room in a still embrace. 

Astarion is almost glad that his Zélie is human when surrounded by shadows. Back then, before the blooming trust, the tense friendship, the impossible devotion, he despised the maddening woman (He was terrified of her, so inconceivably real.) The darkness was the only time he had the advantage when her pale eyes would squint in temporary blindness and not witness the violence her stern kindness did to him. How it undid the tenets of the world, one by one. 

You ruined me, darling. Look at me, a fool in a doomed love. What a ridiculous joke of a vampire you made me!

He should be prowling for blood and cursing the sun, yet here he is, smiling, trying his damn hardest not to rush into his woman’s embrace. You will return to me begging when she’s gone, what’s left of his spite whispers. He ignores it, because that part of him has never known what it means to be cherished simply for existing (It knows all about being wanted, although comparing that with whatever stolen miracle he and Zélie have makes Astarion gag.)

“Finally, darling! Here I thought I’d seen the last of you, lost among all that dreadful politicking—” his snarky quips (They are part of him and Zélie loves them, so he’s decided he’ll greet her with one every single day.) die in his throat when he properly looks at her. 

Hells, he had gotten into the habit of scanning her for possible injuries during their travels, but now the fight is over, without visible wounds or bruises, Astarion can fully see the toll their adventure has taken on her. Her eyes are tired and bruised from lack of sleep (Of course, she’s been foregoing sleep to spend time with him at night.), her face tauter than ever, skin so sallow she looks sick. Astarion presses himself against her and bristles when he feels her ribs poking his body through their clothes. 

Worry, guilt, anger grip him. His brave, little saviour looks so unlike herself. So fragile and exhausted that he fears she’ll crumble to dust should he touch her. He forgets she’s human and not a divine being sometimes, with all that practicality and stony attitude of hers. Never complaining, never relenting (He knows it well.)

You moronic creature! How dare you reduce yourself in this state.

“Darling, what—”

“Oh, hello, Astarion,” Zélie seems to take notice of him only when he’s practically caging her against the door. She’s making an effort not to slide to the floor, he can tell. 

Fucking idiot. 

“Are you well? I hope the room is comfortable enough?” she nearly slurs.  

“Am I well?” Oh, now he’s angry, “Love, what the fuck—”

“Language! No need to be rude,” Astarion feels some relief when Zélie’s irises spark with that annoyed light he coaxes out of her oh-so-well. She inhales deeply, continuing “I came to tell you that I will be late tonight, so you could come and meet me near the main city gate? There’s barely any Fists left, and lots of properties have been robbed or vandalised since there are no guards so Wyll asked me—what’s with that look now?”

The pale elf stares at her perplexed face down his nose, nostrils flaring. “Do you hear yourself, you wretch?!” Her eyes are reduced to judging slits and she’s about to chastise him, but Astarion is undeterred. “No, rather, have you looked at yourself recently? Literal corpses have a healthier…flair than you do now, darling. Myself included.” 

Zélie scoffs (Scoffs!), “Oh Astarion, I admire how far you’ve come with showing concern, really, but,” she tries to push past him, but even her martial art is worthless against his full vampiric strength, “there are things, oh you vexing elf! Things that need tending to even if I’d much rather spend the foreseeable future here with you–hey!”

Astarion feels somewhat proud of the shout she lets out when he picks her up with ease (Not so puny, after all.) She is so light something lodges in his throat (Frustration at his inability to keep her safe.) and he hopes that his renewed strength is what makes his gesture so effortless. 

No one should be this light.

She used to weigh almost the same as him, all muscle and sinew from her training and a life of comfortable abundance; now, her shirt hangs loosely around her frame. 

 Fuck. Why in the nine hells haven’t I noticed before?!

He realises he voiced his thoughts when the woman in his arms replies, “Because critical stab wounds take precedence over hunger, Astarion."

"No need to blame anyone,” Zélie says as he unceremoniously throws her on the bed. She fights not to melt into the mattress. “Astarion,” his infuriating lover speaks slower, as if he were a child, “I need to go. We didn’t save this city only to let it implode in chaos. It needs me; Wyll needs me.” 

Jealousy (Unfounded but very much present.) soars in Astarion’s chest. “Well, darling, our selfless Wyll can kindly go fuck himself and find his own lover and stop pestering mine. I’m sure he’ll have plenty of offers now he’s back in line at the next Archduke. Those horns also add a certain ragged flair that many sheltered young nobles will find irresistible.” 

Zélie rolls her eyes so much only her sclera is visible. She makes to stand up, but Astarion holds her by the shoulders with one hand, pointing an accusing finger at her with the other, “Hush, you. Is that how it’ll be for the rest of time? I am tired of seeing you hurt.” That makes her expression twitch with guilt. 

Good.

He glares at her, “Now, you stay here as the good girl I know you can be and I’ll go to the kitchens to see if anything edible is left. Hopefully, it’ll be better than whatever the wizard cooked.” Astarion forces himself to tear away from Zélie’s inviting body (He did miss her all day.), but she catches his wrist before he can step away. 

“What now?!” he snarls. “You’ve driven mad for days with your ‘Respect others’ and ‘We are a group, Astarion!’ and ‘You can’t be that selfish’, and you won’t let me—”

“The sun,” she simply says, defeated. 

Oh.

How quickly Astarion has forgotten his pathetic limitations. On a quest for tavern food, defeated by the light of day. He can’t even venture outside their room. Zélie is the only person he wants to protect and can’t even feed her when she’s fed him countless times before. He snarls loudly, balling his fists, “Fuck!”

“It’s all right,” Zélie pulls him to her, unfazed by his temperamental mood, and he lets himself fall on top of her on the bed, his mortification soothed by her closeness. 

“Tell you what,” she says, breath tickling his face. Astarion holds her cheeks, sharpened by tiredness and hunger, in his hands. He rubs his thumbs over them in small circles, as if he could make them meatier, healthier, by force of will alone. “I will go downstairs, where a Fist captain is waiting for me. I will tell her to ask Wyll if the issue can wait until tomorrow or if Jaheira or Minsc,” she grimaces in worry at the idea, “can take over for the evening. Then, I’ll see if the cook has something prepared. If not, I’ll make do with some cheese and bread.”

Astarion feels a soft dizziness spreading through him. She is talking with that calm and collected voice of hers as if nothing could ever shake or hurt them when she knows what it does to him. He tangles his fingers in her curls, messing them up (An arduous task when they already look like a harpy’s.), before cradling her face into the base of his neck.  

“Then,” his little hero wraps her arms around him, under his shirt and on his scarred back. Astarion is still unused to how careful her hands are on him, like a gentle breeze. She looks at him in search of discomfort, but she finds none. The elf hopes Zélie knows that nothing she does will be the cause of any uneasiness he may show in the future (Even she can’t shield him from all his memories.)  

“I will come back here, to this bed. We’ll eat and rest and when the sun sets, we’ll go to the rooftop to see the stars and enjoy the summer air. How does that sound?” She boops his nose with hers. 

Astarion swallows loudly, “It sounds perfect, love,” he concedes. That’s as close as anyone has ever come to convincing Zélie to drop her duties and rest. Small victories. He is sure he’ll persuade her to live a life of rest and luxury, one day. If everything goes as he desperately hopes.

He is rewarded with a content smile he does not deserve, so he kisses her soundly instead. 

____________________________________________

The night is warm, comforting even. How strange; Astarion can’t remember darkness in Baldur’s Gate ever being so welcoming. A loud munching resonates on his left, and the pale elf has to keep himself from grinning too overtly at his precious woman digging into a simple beef stew as if it were the nectar of the gods. Her cheeks puff out as she takes another mouthful, her usual composure nowhere to be seen in what Astarion hopes is another first. 

(He wishes he could have been her first at everything, just as she was his.)

Midnight strikes. He would have been in some dirty tavern or dingy brothel by now if the mind flayers hadn’t mercifully kidnapped him. He would have been truly dead if the impossible creature next to him hadn’t insisted he was worth saving.

Zélie looks at him as if he performed a miracle, “This, munch, is, chomp, utterly amazing. The best thing I’ve eaten in a long, long while.” 

“Tut, love, I resent that. And here I thought I was special,” he purrs it in offended seduction just to witness his lover’s cheeks and forehead flush in embarrassment. She looks healthier already. 

Good. 

“Oh, you, sassy, snarky…ugh,” Zélie narrows her eyes at him, then immediately composes herself. “Let me specify, the best thing I’ve eaten of any nutritional value in a long, long time.” 

Astarion laughs so loud that a few pigeons fly away in fear. “Touché, love. Well played.”

“Where did you even find this? When I checked the kitchen—”

When she checked the kitchen, the useless cook was not meant to start his shift for another couple of hours, which left her with two slices of bread and a portion of cheese so small even a rat would have ignored it. So Astarion, spurred on by his newly-uncovered protectiveness, waited for his Zélie to be busy with the Fists captain before putting his daggers to good use. It was convenient that the cook had no will to test out the elf’s gutting technique. 

“Oh, darling, I am extremely resourceful. You should know this by now,” he says with a telling smirk. 

“Right. That means I don’t want to know. Though I wouldn’t be against getting more of this,” she points at the bowl of stew in admiration, “from time to time. It reminds me of my grandfather’s cooking.” 

Astarion tenses a bit at the mention of the family she left behind for him; he waits for (No, expects.) Zélie to eventually consider the whole thing as the massive mistake it is and…leave him. Hate him. Become another person he cheated not of her life (At the very least.) but of her future. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours, dear?” She asks, head tilted. She can see him even without the tadpoles, and it unsettles him in a good way. 

It feels right, to be known by her. To know her in return. 

He doesn’t want to lie to her now (She’s rubbing her annoying righteousness all over him.), so he opens his arms and she scoots against him, full belly and satisfied gaze. 

Lovely. 

Astarion gently guides them to the mattress he brought up from the bedroom and curls up around Zélie. He could laugh. He despised heroes for so long and here he was, lulling one to sleep. But she was his hero, which makes all the difference; he still doesn’t believe in the natural goodness of others, but he believes in hers, and that’s all he needs. 

And she fits against him, around his jagged edges so perfectly, Astarion would believe she was made for him if he were a religious man. 

“Sleep darling,” he coos into her ear. 

She’s already halfway to the dream realm after, but she’s ever the stubborn woman. “But the sun—”

“I don’t need sleep, love; I’ll move us downstairs when dawn comes. I’ve wasted the day in bed already,” he plants little kisses on her hair, her face, her hands. Worships her as much as he can without waking her up. 

“But that’s the issue…want to…spend time with you,” why must she make it so impossible for him not to fall for her?

Every time the elf is sure he hit the bottom of the devotion he is capable of, she pushes him further down. And she doesn’t try that hard, his pesky love. 

“Hush,” he murmurs, wrapping them in a thick blanket to keep his undead chill at bay. “Rest, idiot. I’m here. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Astarion tightens his grip on her sleeping form. “We’ll take all the time we need, love. I promise.”

[zeoxdragon]

This might interest to any Plok fans, in 2020 I brought a Spanish Magazine called "Retrogamer" and scanned the pages (Sorry for the bad quality, I am not the best scan guy, specially not 5 years ago) Some interesting things are the mention of a Plok animation of 30 seconds that was lost in time, also an old map of Akrillic. I don't have a scan with me anymore but I tried to take better photos of those two things with the phone.

[nishayuro]

The way I loved you - Bakugo Katsuki

Collection: Spotify playlist song prompts

Genre: Angst, Hurt/No comfort

GN! Reader

A/N:okay so the way I do these is I spin a wheel for songs, for fandom then character. and when the way i loved you came out and MHA got chosen as the fandom I was like, “omg what if bakugo…” and iT WENT TO BAKUGO’S SDFGHJ THIS IS FATE

Synopsis: You’re happy, you’re with the perfect guy, you’re living the ideal romance that everyone dreams of. But why do you still long to be in his arms? 

“He says everything I need to hear, and it's like I couldn't ask for anything better” 

Perfect. Ideal. Came out of a fairytale. These are all words that people describe when they see you with your partner, and you can’t even deny. 

It’s true, he’s charming, intelligent, strong, loving, caring, loyal, and all these other perfect qualities. You feel like you’ve hit the jackpot. 

“Love?” a voice calls out, you snap out of your thoughts and look towards the man in front of you, your boyfriend of 2 years. “oh , yeah sorry just got lost in thought” you said, giving him a smile. 

“Hmm, penny for your thoughts?” he grinned, holding out a hand towards you. “Just thinking of how perfect you are” you admitted, a smile adoring your face. 

“Oh? Well, you, my dear, are more perfect than one could ever hope to be. How’d I get lucky to even pull you? I have no idea, "he teased, linking his arms with yours. “Let’s go, we don’t want to be late for our date” you say, pulling him out the door. “Oh and by the way, you look wonderful tonight” he says, pressing a kiss on your hand. 

“And he says, "You look beautiful tonight" And I feel perfectly fine”

The drive to the restaurant was quick, both of you joking to each other on the way. When you got there, he got out of the car to open your side, escorting you out. “Wow, what a gentleman~” you teased. “Only the best for my love,” he replied. You both walk towards the entrance, hand in hand. As he confirmed your reservations with the receptionist, your eyes scanned the place. 

Big glass windows lined the walls, giving a wonderful view of the city lights. The ceiling was lined with fancy chandeliers, illuminating the room with a wondrous glow. You're thinking about how well the lighting will be for your pictures later on. A waiter leads you both to a table near the sides, a bit secluded but still gives a great view of the whole room. 

He pulls out your chair, sitting you down before he sits down himself. As you ordered your food, you both decided to indulge in conversation, like how your parents are inviting him over for a birthday party, or how your brother was asking him if he’d like to join them in a basketball match next week. 

This is the romance you’ve dreamt of since young. This is the life you’ve always wanted. But why, as you move your gaze to the table behind him, do your eyes hold a sense of sorrow and longing? 

“But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain, And it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name”

Your relationship with Katsuki Bakugo was one you’d call imperfect. He was loud, brash, and arrogant. He’d often be late to dates, coming home late at night and leaving early in the morning, and forgetting important dates because of the nature of his job as a hero.  As much as you tried to understand him, it was just too much. 

You couldn’t live like that anymore, living with uncertainty, living like he’s not even part of your life. Soon, one fight turned into two, two turned into three, and three turned into a screaming fest at 2 am. 

“Holy shit, Katsuki! Is it so much to ask for you to make just a bit of time for me?!” you screamed, tears threatening to fall. “Do I look like I can?! Hero work is already stressful enough, I don’t even get an ounce of rest before I’m called back again!” he shouts back, annoyance visible in his voice. 

You pace the room, tears running down your face. “Why are we still even in a relationship then?! I can’t live like this anymore, Katsuki! I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t live like you don’t even exist in my life…” you cried, grabbing a jacket and leaving through the front door of his apartment. 

“You're so in love that you act insane, And that's the way I loved you”

“Y/N! Wait!” Katsuki shouted, running after you, rain pouring down like it's insulting him. “Y/N, please!” he shouts, catching up to you and encasing you in his arms. “Please, don’t go…” He whispers, eyes looking into yours. And even though Katsuki was loud, brash and arrogant, you still loved him. He was still your Katsuki. So in a moment of weakness, your lips connected with his. 

You pulled away to catch your breath, looking him in the eye. As much as you loved the man in front of you, you still can’t see yourself living that life, not even with him. 

“I’m sorry, Kats. But I really can’t anymore. I love you, but this is goodbye.” You declared, placing one last kiss on his lips before turning back and walking away. He stared at your retreating figure, his own tears mixing in with the rain, weeping with him for the end of his 3 years with you. 

“He can't see the smile I'm faking, And my heart's not breaking”

His bright red eyes caught your (e/c) coloured own. He was… on a date? You looked at the person he was with, and your heart clenched. Why are you feeling this? You’re on a date of your own. “Honey, you good?” your partner asked, concern evident in his face. “I’m fine, just got distracted by the decoration” you lie, you feel guilty. It's been years, and he’s still lingering in your heart. 

You tried to ignore Katsuki at the other table, your partner making that a little easier. A waiter comes to your table and places down a dish in front of you, “Oh, we didn’t order dessert yet.” You said, motioning to the dish. “No, I actually did.” Your boyfriend interrupted, a smile on his face. 

The waiter opens the lid and you see a cake with a drawing of a ring. Oh fuck. You thought, your boyfriend got down on one knee, a box in hand. Your eyes widen, looking around, you spot those same red eyes, wide as well and staring back at you. 

Your boyfriend went on with his proposal speech, while your mind was running a mile a minute. You love him, but you’re conflicted… “Y/N, will you make me the happiest man and marry me?” and there it is, the question. 

“And I never knew I could feel that much, And that's the way I loved you”

You looked at him, still in shock. Your eyes drifted to the back, Katsuki was no longer looking at you or the scene, he had his full attention towards his date. And you realized, even if your heart still yearned for him. You will never go back, you can’t go back. 

You looked towards your boyfriend, a smile plastered on your face. This was your dream life, you’re living your fantasies. You have what you wanted, even if it wasn’t him. 

“Yes, Eijiro… Yes.” You answered. 

masterlist

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[tweetsongs]

'cause my love will be fierce (and your love will be missed)

my other prompt for @orv-gotcha-for-gaza for @evelinadodge! i am SO sorry about how long this took. i have no excuses except for uh. underestimating law school OTL. i hope this is even slightly what you're looking for!

Sometimes Yoo Joonghyuk thinks that the whole traveling mercenary thing leaves much less to be desired than advertised. Then he steps into a court again and remembers the alternative.

“Lord Yoo,” someone says, and he resists the urge to grimace. He turns around, and a woman with auburn hair smiles at him, bows. He nods back, not responding. 

The woman doesn’t seem to be bothered by this, eyes scanning over him. It’s not the look he’s used to getting from young noblewomen, the one that wonders whether he still has enough pedigree to be worth marrying, or, at the very least, a night of fun (the answer to both questions is and always has been an empathetic no). Rather, it looks like she’s looking him over for something, some quality or characteristic that makes him feel oddly seen. It is not an especially comfortable feeling.

“What do you want,” Namwoon scowls at her from behind him. Yoo Joonghyuk resists the urge to sigh - he really should’ve known better than to bring him to these sorts of functions by now. Though, on the other hand, the alternative option would’ve been leaving him without supervision, which was equally risky.

On Namwoon’s side, Jihye punches him in the shoulder, which is no less rude but does the job. “Stop embarrassing Master!” she hisses, not quite soft enough to be discreet. Yoo Joonghyuk tries not to close his eyes against the incoming headache.

Thankfully, Hyunsung steps forward then, more affable than their entire party combined: “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” he says with a knight’s easy charm. “My name is Lee Hyunsung. May I have your name, and what your business is with the lord?”

Yoo Joonghyuk barely manages not to grimace at being called a lord. This night was really getting worse and worse.

The woman glances at them, then shares a look with the woman beside her, clad in knight’s clothing. “My name is Yoo Sangah,” she says. “This is Sir Heewon. And we...may be in need of your assistance.”

--

The story is a typical one: a tyrant who went too far, an uprising, a queen who is deposed alongside her husband, a prince in a dungeon. A line of executions.

“And you want me to stop the executions,” Yoo Joonghyuk says. They’re on a balcony now, away from prying ears. 

Yoo Sangah shakes her head. “I want you to save him.”

“Just him?”

A hesitation.

“Just him.”

“Why?”

She smiles, slight. “He was my betrothed,” she says.

He considers her - she doesn’t seem the kind of person who is easily taken in by sweet words or false gestures. “So it’s because of love?”

“Not- the way you think. We were not...romantically involved. But he was...unlike the rumors. Kind. He was a good friend, and would have made a good partner, if nothing else.” there is no sign of a lie in her voice. “He was my best friend, and-”

“He was my brother,” Sir Heewon says. “In all but blood. He cared for his people, even when his ma- the former king tried to force him not to. He was the only reason the revolution succeeded. But now-” her fists clench. “He told us that it was better for them to all be executed, for the story to have a clean ending. He pretended- he pretended to hold Lady Sangah hostage, so that she would not be seen as complicit. He bade me go with her to make sure she was protected. He got every one of the innocent castle staff to escape. It’s unjust, for him to die. I am his knight. I can’t allow it.”

“We can compensate you,” Lady Sangah rushes to reassure him. “My family - my dowry is still intact, so I can give you as much as you need.”

It is a startling story, an almost unbelievable one. What kind of prince gives up his power, his title, his life, just for the sake of a story? He looks behind him, and meets the eyes of his companions. They understand each other.

“...alright,” he says. If nothing else, he wants to meet the person who inspired such loyalty.

--

It is, he will admit, a very neat ending that Kim Dokja had orchestrated.

The commoners in the yard, holding weapons made from improvised tools. The bodies already piled up, dressed in royal blues, the blood staining them closer to violet. The prince, plain but for the strange calmness of his expression, the almost excited glint in his eyes, standing atop the execution stand.

“And we will finally be free,” the lady-knight in front of the stand says, steady hand on a leather-wrapped sheath. “From the tyranny that the Demon King has held us under, the cruelty of their progeny- let us live, now, as we were meant to. Let us live as people, rather than cattle.”

A cheer echoes down the crowd, the sound like a church bell or a horn -- something like change, like revolution. And in the centre, the prince that nobody knows has orchestrated all of it, hemp woven in a loop along a pale throat in a noose he wears like a crown.

“You sure we actually wanna save the guy?” Namwoon mutters out of the side of his mouth, cloak thankfully covering his fidgeting. “It feels kind of like a bummer for these guys. They’re probably gonna throw a party after this.”

“Shut up,” Jihye’s voice, echoing in their ears via Uriel’s carefully-maintained communications spell, says before Joonghyuk can say the same thing. “I’m ready, master.”

Yoo Joonghyuk nods slightly. The signal. He sees her begin to move from the corner of his eye, the slight slide of her palm to unsheathe her shield-

- and then an arrow pierces the air, cutting through the noose. The lady-knight draws her sword, swings it towards him - good instincts - but it is stopped by a shield the size of a man. Hyunsung, always quicker on the draw than people would assume of his stature, meets her sword with a clang of metal on metal. Defending, because this revolution was not wrong, even if the one they’re executing may not be the man they thought he was.

Yoo Joonghyuk is moving before his mind catches up with his steps, a hand slipping around the no-longer-prince’s waist and hauling him over a shoulder. He isn’t sure why he’s moving so quickly, except that something about the resignation in his eyes feels familiar, irksome.

“If you want to hold someone hostage, I must warn you now that I have few around willing to pay any ransom,” Kim Dokja says, strangely placid for the situation. If it weren’t for the momentary tenseness of his body, the flash of confusion in his expression before it disappeared over Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulder, he would’ve been fooled into thinking that  the former prince had predicted all of this.

As it is, he replies: “You are worth more than you think.” it seems to startle Kim Dokja into silence, until Kim Namwoon joins them, a smirk on his face: “Your girlfriend paid us a pretty sum for saving you -- I hope you’re ready to be a concub- argh!”

Yoo Joonghyuk removes his palm from the back of the teenage boy’s head, rolling his eyes. Strangely, this makes Kim Dokja even more tense. “My-”

“Lady Sangah hired us,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, not mincing words. They weave through the back of buildings, commoner-knights and determined farmers and soot-covered revolutionaries beating footsteps fainter and fainter behind them. It is a shame- their determination brought them victory against their leaders, but it is not quite enough against Yoo Joonghyuk’s team. Or their magic.

“Where are you taking me?” Kim Dokja says, as they go further and further towards the outskirts of the city. Instead of answering, Yoo Joonghyuk runs faster towards their meeting spot, where Jihye and Hyunsung will meet them before they go back to the location Yoo Sangah gave to them. After a few moments of quiet, realizing that he was not being given an answer, Kim Dokja continues: “I see that the rumors about Lord Yoo becoming a renegade were accurate, though I admit I would’ve imagined you to be taking more noble jobs then this.”

“Bold words for the one who’s keeping you alive,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, without thinking. He blinks as he catches the edge of a smirk out of the corner of his eye. He was trying to get a reaction, he realizes. That little-

“Jihye!” His attention is snapped back by Namwoon’s shout, and his feet stop sharply at the sight of his student, standing where they were supposed to meet.

A knife at her throat.

“I would thank you to put that boy down,” the one holding the dagger says evenly, their clock wreathing them like a shadow. Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes sweep over her face, tense but carefully calm. To Hyunsung beside her, a hand hovering over his shoulder, where a bloom of red is spreading from an arrow sticking grotesquely out of his shirt. He hesitates. Holds out an arm to stop Namwoon from taking a step forward.

“Who are you?” he asks instead, keeping his voice level.

The figure makes a sound like a scoff. “You’re in no position to ask.”

“But I am,” Kim Dokja says. Yoo Joonghyuk hisses as he feels the tip of a foot dig into his waist, as if he were a horse that Kim Dokja were trying to put to heel. “Put me down, you stupid sunfish.”

“Do you want to die?”

“Well, now that you’ve ruined my first plan, no. I don’t plan on dying in a random place outside my former kingdom, felled in the midst of strangers. But that’s not what’s going to happen. Trust me.”

What an absurd thing to ask, of a person you’ve just met. A person you yourself have no reason to trust.

He cared for his people.

He was a good friend.

Trust me.

He puts the former prince down.

“What-” Kim Namwoon begins to protest, but Kim Dokja’s voice cuts him off, steady and with the words that Yoo Joonghyuk may have least expected.

“What are you doing back, mother?”

[theia-eos]

Hello! Idk if you still do this but could you scan the pages 8 to 11 from tellius recollection vol.1? I totally understand if you can't/don't want to👍

Ahaha, I had those scanned already, actually, which is good, because I've recently moved and I am not entirely sure which box the recollections books are in.

Anyway! Pages 8-11, the History and Countries of Tellius by request!

The below scans are not edited in anyway, and I do not read Japanese so I do not offer translations of the books. If you want to translate, by all means, feel free to do so. If you share them online, you can credit me for the scans of mediocre quality using my old scanner if you so choose. I'm sorry if it's a bit blurry on the edges, I tried to smush the book as flat as I could without breaking it.

(If there are other pages you want to see, check out my master list)

[pankekesito]

➶ 【World needs bad men. We keep the other bad men from the door 】➶

I was listening to the Red Dead Redemption 2 soundrack and "Unshaken by D'Angelo" fits Rust so well. God I am hopelessly in love with Rust Cohle in all his forms. His secret identity as Crash seems like the coolest fucking thing in the world to me. I love him.♡  (I'm sorry if the image quality is lost, I tried to upload what I could but the application itself downgrades it. At the same time as it's painted with colours I usually scan it, but my scanner is a thousand years old lol)

[hydrus]

Version 554

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app

linux

tar.zst

I had an excellent week. Some important bugs are fixed, and we have some basic support for CBZ and Ugoira files.

full changelog

bugs

I screwed up two important calls last week, in fixed-period checker timers and job statuses. If you had watchers not start, subscriptions with incorrect check times, and/or popup messages that threw display errors or wouldn't auto-dismiss, I am sorry! I didn't plan the changes here properly, and several things slipped through my tests.

All the affected systems have been given proper rework this week and have some unit tests to make sure this doesn't happen again. Please let me know if you still have any problems.

animations

I fixed up more of the 'while checking for transparency, this file produced x error!' issues. Checking GIFs for transparency should be a bit faster and more fault tolerant too, now.

Also, the native GIF renderer has much improved transparency support. The multilayered 'noclip' artifacts should be gone, and damaged GIFs will recover better. GIFs also now get thumbnails that are x% in with proper transparency.

Also, APNGs now get transparency: when rendering in the native renderer; in their thumbnails (which are also now x% in); and for 'has transparency' checks.

CBZ and Ugoira

I am adding basic recognition and thumbnails for these filetypes today. Behind the scenes, both formats are essentially just zips with a list of images, so all your zips will be scanned, and if they look like a CBZ or Ugoira, their filetype will change and they will get a thumbnail. Ugoira thumbnails will be x% in, like for other video.

Also, a user is working on true Ugoira rendering now, so I hope we will be able to finally roll this out in the medium term.

Unfortunately, neither format has a particularly definitive/unique specification, so while I have tried to be careful, my tests here are imperfect. We can expect a few incorrect determinations one way or the other. If you get an outrageous false positive or false negative here (e.g. something you know is a Ugoira that stays as a ZIP, or a ZIP of misc files that detects as a CBZ), please send in the details, and I'll see if I can tweak my tests.

next week

I put in extra time this week to figure out CBZ, so I'll let things breathe and just catch up on simple, small work. I have a bunch of interesting quality of life UI items in my immediate todo, so I'll probably focus on that!

[outcast-thingz]

So funnily enough I remember what inspired the email story draft. There was a writing prompt screenshot on pinterest about finding out during a bank robbery or something that you are on a list of people to not be touch because of an old highschool sweetheart that is actually a powerful person now like Mafia leader or somethin

Thus this was crea- well semi-created this was never finished (please note this is VERY early in my writing endeavors so.. it's not the quality I have now) I just copy and pasted from the draft

I look down at a scrap of paper I wrote the address on once more, I just had to be sure that I didn't imagine anything. I lifted my head and stared at this abandoned-aesthetic apartment off a dirt road.

'It's five years since I have seen him... I didn't make any calls or send any texts... I wonder how his life has been.'  I bit my lip to stop its pathetic quivering as my shaking hand hovers over the doorknob. 'Stop hesitating! It's going to be fine.. just go.' The thought pressured me, and with a quick spin on my heels, I was ready to leave 'nope, can't do this. I can't face him'. Before either of my feet could leave the ground, the door behind me creaked open briskly.

"Aye, Rick! I thought you said that package wasn't supposed to be here till later tonight." A male's voice questioned from behind. I slowly turned around to face the man as another one appeared by his side.

"What the hell are you talking about Rookie. Of course, they aren't supposed to be here till later!" The second Male answers, he turns his head and quickly scans over me. "Rookie, you idgit!" He smacks the back of the first Male's head, "that's her!" He holds up a picture in the Rookie's (the first Male's) face.

"I am so sorry. We'll bring you to our boss right away." The Rooky was practically shaking in front of me.

"Just like he said Miss Kingsleigh, he will take you to our boss. Please excuse the trading grounds, I know it is unsightly. We want this place to not look suspicious in any way." Rick (the second male) informs me as his college opens up a door in the wall.

'That was a door!?' I questioned before being signaled by the rooky,

"Please, Miss Kingliegh, this way." As if pushed forward by an invisible force in my body, I make my way in the hall. Soon enough, as one foot moves in front of the other, seemingly on its own, the rooky and I are moving down a long hallway."I really am sorry for not recognizing you sooner, Miss Kingsleigh." The rooky repeats to break the awkward and stiff silence in the room.

"Oh. It... it's fine." My mind was spinning in circles as each step brought me closer and closer to an old high school sweetheart. It was almost surprised with the amount of shaking my knees were doing that I didn't sound like a rattling skeleton shuffling its way across a room.

"Hey, listen. If it makes you feel any better, I'm nervous too. I'm new, that's why they call me Rooky. I heard the scolding those bank robbers got after bumping into you. The boss talks about you sometimes; he's a tough guy most of the time, but when he talks about you, it's some of the sweetest things I've heard come out. So, don't be scared of him." He smiles at me, and I feel the shaking almost disappear.

"So.. he doesn't hate me?" I inquired

"The boss? No, no. I don't think he could ever find it in his heart to hate you, Miss Kingsleigh" He chuckles. We reach a door. The rooky opens it and leads me in awe of what surrounded me. It wasn't like a lavish mansion, but it wasn't a dirty old cottage either. It was like my dream home come to life. It was warm and smelt of burning wood and apple/cinnamon. A rustic log home, just as I had always fantasized about. A short bark followed by pitter-patter made it's way to me.

"M-Miss! Look out!!" The rooky shouts as a beautiful wolf-malamute pounded his way towards me. He tries to stand in front of me. However, I sprint towards the dog and slide on my knees into a hug with nothing but fluff and kisses.

"Zero! Hello Z-Z, how are you, you handsome boy." I giggle and ruffle up Zero's fur. "Are you a good boy? Huh? Yes, you are, you beautiful malamute wolf." He barked, "what- hey, where's your toy? Where you toy big boy? Go get it, yeah go get it" Zero spins in a circle as I questioned the whereabouts of his toy. "Go on! Go get it  Zero," just like that he zoomed out of the room."I- How..?" The rooky asked, his jaw practically hitting the floor.

"Hehe, Zero isn't so bad. You just gotta gain his trust, and he's just a huge fluffy puppy. Who also happens to be part wolf and part malamute." I pat the young man's shoulder.

"You know, I've been pretty good at keeping that a secret" a familiar voice comes from a doorway across the room.

"Z-Zimmerman!" My head shifted towards the doorway. It was like a day hadn't passed since I had last seen him. Maybe he had gotten taller.

"Awe, why so formal my little flower?" For a moment, his sweet smile was a frown.

"Sorry, Killian.. long time no see, huh?" A nervous chuckle leaves as I hold my left arm.

'I can't even look him in the eye..' my gaze stayed fixated on his smile.

"So Azalea, I suppose you have some questions. That's why you're here, right?" I nod, "How about this? I'll make dinner after I give you a tour, and then we'll talk."

"That sounds.. delightful." I agree hesitantly. He sends the rooky back to the trading ground, and we walk around on tour. *About an hour later* "That was a lot more land than I thought you had. What do you plan on doing with it?" Curiosity lined every word fumbling out. I cursed my hands for shaking this whole time, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Oh, well, some of my men don't have homes or means to pay for a home without suspicion, so I planned on using what I have to build them places to sleep. This house is big enough that we can have everyone gather here for meals," he answered matter-of-factly. "I'm going to make dinner, in the meantime, make yourself comfortable. Alright?"

"Okay."

"Good, dinner shouldn't take long." With that, he leaves me from where we started the tour. Zero comes bounding over to my side with rope in his mouth. Zero nuzzles my arm repeatedly.

"Okay, okay, I'll play." I smile and toss the rope for him a few times before getting into a tug of war.

[officialbruciewayne]

"It's been hard on them. I appreciate your discretion," Bruce said very earnestly. "And I had a CT scan," upon my return to the Cave, confirming the League of Assassin's own assessment.

"Through the cowl, at that distance, I doubt there was a chance of even accidental lethality. Slade Wilson's shot was- almost irritatingly -precise," a faint curl to his lip, upticked in a smirk that was more frown than much else. It was Bruce being downed in the field that had opened Dick to being swept up.

"Hn." Bruce made a quiet sound to indicate he was listening, but concern tinged the tone of it. Silencing as Clark explained a little more. Their earlier conversations had been- more pragmatic, perfunctory. Bruce expressing his sympathy in providing the contact information for a lawyer, and a quiet I'm sorry.

This though, was a little more...

Bruce hummed slow and steadily. Adjusted the phone against his ear, sheets shifting over his legs. "I'm sorry," he said just as quiet as the first time he had heard it. Then continued, gently: "You did your best, Clark. You can hold your head up, knowing you tried. Sometimes that is all we can really expect from ourselves."

He looked towards his window, regretting his decision to push his friend away when perhaps Clark had actually been asking for his own sake. Not that Bruce was the friend you should seek consolation with, still, he at least had experience in some of this.

He cleared his throat. "Speaking... as a man with a- something of a trail of failed relationships behind him, I can at least tell you that it does get easier. Or it can. And that there are some situations where wondering if you could have done something different, planned otherwise, truly is of no use." A pause. "You will be happy, my friend. Again, or in the future, I am sure of that."

Another little knead of his fingers to his forehead, before Bruce asked with a slightly tensed quality, because he had to ask if there had been a request for help he had ignored, "...was there a different reason you asked to come see me?"

You would not believe the week I have just had. -BTW

Feel free to call me and vent, Bruce. I'm currently working on an article for a new sushi place, but can always lend an ear. @officialbruciewayne

[trilobi-te]

I gave them legs. Also no shading because why shade when you could simply not.

Uhh Chipspeech-related rambling under the cut because no one irl wants to listen to me talk about it but I feel the need to anyway

So I'm new to Chipspeech (finally read it after knowing about it for 2ish years).. and unfortunately most of the lore/plot seems to be on Twitter? I mean I still read through it but it was unpleasant because I do not like Twitter. Afaik there's no archive/way to read all of the tweets from all of the accounts in chronological order together anywhere else, so I'm making my own (on a Google doc lmao), which has been kind of time-consuming but I'm almost finished. Also it's around 200 pages long at size 6 font. And I still have all of the formatting to do. Someone please tell me if something like this already exists because this has been a lot, and I'm still missing the earlier stuff from Dandy/Bert/Dee that I'm assuming was deleted. I just want to read about the funni robots hhhhhhhh why is it like that

Anyways on the topic of deleted material, I know next to nothing about Daisy because her entire account was deleted. The Chipspeech wiki says she's been retconned, but I haven't found any other source that says that, just that the voice/character was retired? So like. Does that make the plot points she was involved in entirely non-canon? Because she continued to be occasionally referenced in passing way after 2016. What is going on there lmao. I am so many years late to this piece of media. At least the fandom here seems to be more active than the one on Reddit? Okay I'm going to shut up now bye