#notes: drew this. a while back and only just now got around to posting it so here. have a carm :D

[the-final-high-noon-rings]

in every carmilla drawing im legally required to switch her hair color between teal and red. maybe black if im feeling silly

[ID: A digital drawing of Dr. Carmilla. She is a thin Japanese woman with roughly cut chin-length red hair and an eyepatch over one eye sitting in a wheelchair. She smiles shyly off-camera, head tilted slightly in a catlike way. Carmilla wears a button-up grey shirt with a red vest overtop, and has on black pants as well as red combat boots. Her wheelchair is low-seated, and manual, with a turquoise seat and a grey body. She wears a silver cat necklace and several bracelet. The background is purple-grey, with a stock pattern, and numerous fairy lights spiral whimsically around the border. End ID]

[buckysleftbicep]

letters through time (1) 𐙚 b.b

pairing: 1940s!bucky barnes x modern!fem!reader

warnings: none, just so much fluff honestly

summary: you find a letter from 1944 hidden in the old brooklyn apartment you moved signed by one james buchanan barnes. you write back, he did too, and somehow, across decades, you both fall in love.

word count: 1.5k

author’s note: hi loves! so i’ve had this series completed, sitting in my laptop for a while now and wasn’t sure if i should post it, but here it is. if you’d like to read chapter two, let me know, your support means the world <3

i love bucky in the 40s | series masterlist

The apartment smelled like dust and old wood.

It wasn’t much—creaky floors, chipped crown molding, and a kitchen that looked like it hadn’t been updated since the seventies—but it was yours. After months of scraping together rent and tip money from your part-time museum job, you’d finally landed something livable. Cozy, even, if you squinted hard enough.

And the best part?

It had character.

The kind of character that came with water-stained wallpaper and antique furniture left behind by the previous tenant, who, according to the landlord, had “just up and vanished” one winter years ago. No warning. No forwarding address. Just left everything behind like they’d evaporated into thin air.

You didn’t mind. There was something about the place that whispered stories. The faded velvet armchair in the corner. The leaning bookshelf filled with weathered paperbacks—spines cracked and titles barely legible. A dusty turntable with a warped Billie Holiday record still on it.

And then there was the cabinet.

Tall and narrow, tucked against the far wall of your bedroom like it had been placed there decades ago and simply never moved.

Walnut wood, dulled brass handles, carved edges softened by time. You weren’t even sure it could open—it looked like something the building itself had grown around.

Curiosity got the better of you on your second day.

You ran your fingers across the surface, tracing the curves in the wood. It creaked under your touch. The drawers groaned when you tugged them open—empty, except for the bottom one, which stuck stubbornly like it hadn’t been opened in years.

You knelt.

Braced yourself.

Pulled harder.

The drawer yawned open with a reluctant creak, the smell of old paper and aged wood wafting out. You expected dust. Maybe some forgotten receipts or brittle ribbon. But instead, you found only one thing.

A single envelope.

Your brows drew together.

It was thick and off-white, the kind of paper that felt important just from its weight. The edges curled, yellowed slightly with age. You lifted it carefully, fingertips brushing over the smooth surface. A name was scrawled across the front in deep black ink, slanted and formal:

To whomever finds this, from James B. Barnes, 1944.

You blinked.

No—your heart stopped.

James B. Barnes?

You sat back on your heels, pulse suddenly loud in your ears. The name echoed in your mind like a bell.

Bucky Barnes.

It was impossible not to know it. He was carved into the walls of the Smithsonian. Immortalised in textbooks. Revered in documentaries and wartime exhibits alike. He wasn’t just a person—he was a symbol. The brave soldier. The lost hero. Captain America’s best friend.

And now that name was written in ink on a letter in your hands.

Your rational brain scrambled for footing. It’s a prank, it whispered. Some elaborate reenactment. The previous tenant could’ve been a collector, or just really into vintage ephemera.

But it didn’t feel like a joke.

You peeled open the flap gently, heart thudding, and pulled out a single sheet of stationery. The handwriting was clean and old-fashioned—neat lines, slanted script, the kind they don’t teach anymore.

You read.

Brooklyn, New York March 12th, 1944 To whoever finds this, I know it sounds odd, writing a letter to the future. I don’t even know if anyone will ever read this, but something about it… well, it feels like hope. And right now, we need hope more than ever. My name is James Buchanan Barnes. Most people call me Bucky. I’m twenty-six years old, born and raised in Brooklyn. I’m a Sergeant in the 107th and currently deployed in Europe. But I’m back in New York for a short leave. The war is— God, it’s hell. That’s the honest truth. Every time I close my eyes, I see something I wish I could forget. But then I think about the future. About you. About the kind of world we might be building, and it keeps me going. What’s it like where you are? Is Brooklyn still standing? Did we win? Do you remember us? Anyway. If you’ve read this far, thanks for indulging a soldier’s ramblings. Maybe write back. Leave a letter in this drawer, and who knows? Maybe time really can fold in on itself. Yours, Bucky

You read it again.

Then again.

Your fingers trembled as you folded it back along the original creases. Every detail felt real. The texture of the paper. The faint, lingering scent of something smoky—gunpowder and cologne, maybe? The way the words had been pressed into the page like he’d written them with purpose.

You should’ve laughed it off.

You didn’t.

Instead, you stared at the drawer—still open, still waiting—like it held something sacred.

Your hand reached for a notebook on your desk before you could stop yourself. You tore out a clean page, grabbed a pen, and wrote the first words that came to mind.

Brooklyn, New York March 12th, 2020 Dear Bucky, Okay, I know this is crazy. You probably won’t see this. But your letter was tucked in an old cabinet I found in my new apartment, and I couldn’t not write back. I’m (Y/N), by the way. I live in your old neighbourhood. Well sort of. A lot’s changed in eighty years. The buildings are taller, the streets are louder, and people walk around glued to these little rectangles that hold the entire internet. It’s like a library and a phone and a camera all in one. You asked if Brooklyn’s still standing. It is. In some ways, it’s barely recognisable. But in others, it’s still the same. The brownstones. The corner delis. The noise and the chaos and the strange charm that keeps people here. And yes… we won. You and your friends, you guys did it. The war ended. You were remembered, Bucky. I don’t think you’d believe how many people know your name. Anyway, I don’t know if this’ll reach you. But if it does… write back? Yours, (Y/N)

You folded the page with care, tucked it into a fresh envelope, and slid it back into the drawer beside his letter like placing an offering on an altar.

Then you closed it, slowly, gently. You didn’t know what to expect—didn’t truly believe anything would happen. But still, that night, you slept with one eye on the cabinet, your heart curled tight like a fist.

You woke at dawn, the sun filtering softly through the blinds, casting pale gold across the room. Dust swirled lazily in the light like confetti, and for a few long seconds, you lay still, almost afraid to breathe.

Then, heart steadying, you rose and padded quietly to the cabinet. With hesitant fingers, you opened the drawer—and there it was. A new letter, resting neatly where the other one had been. Same paper. Same slanted handwriting. As if time had folded in on itself just long enough to bring him back to you.

March 14th, 1944 Well, would you look at that? You wrote back. I almost didn’t believe it when I saw your letter. Thought I’d finally lost my mind. But here we are. I read your words three times, maybe more. The future sounds wild. Phones that do everything? You sure you’re not pulling my leg, sweetheart? It’s funny, I keep wondering if you’re real. If this is real. But I guess even if it’s just a dream, it’s a damn good one. Thank you for telling me we win. For telling me I’m remembered. That’s more than I ever hoped for. Tell me more about your Brooklyn. And about you. You said your name’s (Y/N)? That’s a beautiful name. I bet it suits you. I’ll be waiting, Bucky

You stood there for a long time, staring at the letter in your hands, heart pounding like it was trying to catch up with reality. It was real—or if it wasn’t, it was close enough that you didn’t care.

Somehow, impossibly, James Buchanan Barnes had written to you from 1944. Not just a name in a museum, not just a faded face in a history book or a footnote in a war journal. A man. A soldier. Someone lonely, hopeful, aching for a future—and against every rule of time and logic, he’d reached you.

That night, you stayed up until well past midnight.

You told him about your work—how your days were spent cataloguing artefacts from the war he was still fighting, sifting through rusted medals and yellowed letters that felt different now, heavier.

You told him how, every morning, you passed the Captain America exhibit at the museum without realising you’d one day be writing to the man who walked beside the legend himself.

You painted him a picture of your world—of your quiet apartment, the rain that whispered against your windows in the early hours, and the warmth of your favourite red scarf as you ducked into the little corner bookstore you loved.

You described the neighbourhood: the gentrified coffee shops where everything was oat milk and soft jazz, the thrift stores where history lived on hangers, the vibrant murals of old veterans painted across crumbling brick walls.

How American flags still fluttered from windows, even if most people had forgotten what they were saluting.

And before you sealed the envelope, you wrote one more line:

Write back soon. Please.

Because you already knew—

You couldn’t bear it if he didn’t.

a/n: i used to write just for myself and honestly never thought i’d post anything on tumblr… but here we are. this is one of my most loved serie, one i’ve been super hesitant to share, so i really hope it doesn’t flop 😭 thank you for stopping by, it means so much to me <3

[ordinary-barbie]

scary dog privileges.

summary: Nobody's messing with you as long as Rafe Cameron is around.

pairing: rafe x sweet!pogue!reader

word count: 1.7k

tags: fem!reader, swearing, a guy acts like a creep towards reader, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex (protected), mutual orgasms

note: dipping my toes into obx fanfic after hyperfixating/crushing on Drew Starkey and reading a ton of Rafe stories, haha. I have not seen the show but I'm shooting my shot here anyway!

~~~~

They say that opposites attract, which couldn't be more accurate regarding your relationship with Rafe Cameron.

Rafe was the Kook king of Kildare Island, someone who oozed cockiness and arrogance. Meanwhile, you were a soft-spoken Pogue. When people spotted the two of you together, they couldn't wrap their heads around it, and frankly, neither could you. Rafe had his pick of any girl on the island - especially the Kooks - but somehow he only had eyes for you, which warmed your heart.

It all started last year, with a party at Tannyhill to celebrate your class graduating from high school. You were content to stay under your covers, binging Love Island Australia on Hulu, but your friend Olivia had begged you to come with her. Eventually, you relented, your curiosity about one of Rafe Cameron's famous parties getting the better of you.

Within five minutes, you'd ran into Rafe—literally. You'd been swaying to the music and accidentally bumped into him, spilling your drink all over his shirt. You'd been mortified, apologizing profusely and insisting on helping him clean up.

Rafe was a goner ever since.

Now it was time for another Tannyhill bash to celebrate the start of summer, and you were squarely by Rafe's side. In the year you'd been together, you'd discovered how protective your boyfriend was. He held onto you like an anchor, always having an arm wrapped around your waist or shoulders, no matter if he was talking to Topper and Kelce or kicking some rando's ass at beer pong. You appreciated it; parties often made you feel like a nervous baby deer, and it was nice to have someone to hold on to.

Unfortunately, you couldn't always be joined at the hip. "I'm gonna piss but I'll be right back, baby," Rafe promised, giving your ass a light squeeze on the way to the bathroom. As soon as your boyfriend was out of sight, your smile dropped. While you'd made an effort to get to know Rafe's friends, you were still incredibly nervous in a house full of Kooks.

To kill some time, you scrolled through Instagram, giggling at Olivia's latest story. She'd posted herself having a "friendly pizza sesh" with a guy, but you knew she'd had a huge crush on him since high school.

Suddenly, a shadow passed over you. "What's got you laughing like that, pretty girl?" You jumped, startled by the unfamiliar male voice.

A smirking guy with short, curly dark brown hair and glinting hazel eyes sauntered up to you. "Hey, I'm Aidan. I'm new in town—but maybe a cute thing like you could show me around?" he lazily drawled.

Your skin prickled with discomfort. You suddenly wanted to shrink into yourself, but you forced yourself to smile anyway. "Sorry, I'm not interested."

Aidan laughed, undeterred, and leaned into you. "Playing hard to get, huh? That's kinda hot," he whispered into your ear, making your stomach churn.

"I said no thanks," you responded, laughing nervously. You should run. You needed to get out of there. But for some reason, you found yourself rooted to the spot, trapped with Aidan and the pungent stench of his cologne.

Aidan pouted, using his arms to pin you against the wall. "C'mon babe, just give me a chance. I don't bite."

"How many times is she gonna tell you to fuck off before you get the point?" Relief flooded your chest at the sound of your boyfriend's voice.

Aidan rolled his eyes. "Why don't you fuck off, dude? We were having a moment."

Rafe glared at Aidan, his eyes blazing with rage, and grabbed the other boy by the collar of his Lacoste polo. "That's my girlfriend, you jackass. And you're gonna step the fuck away from her. Now."

You suddenly felt a zinging sensation in your core, turned on by Rafe's behavior. He was so sweet and silly and kind but could turn into a snarling dog in an instant — definitely not someone to fuck around with.

Rafe released Aidan's collar and the brunette gulped, suddenly trembling with fear.

"I - I'm sorry man. I had no idea," Aidan stammered. "I'll leave her alone."

Rafe wrapped a protective arm around your waist, scowling at Aidan. "Get the fuck out of my house."

Aidan meekly nodded, scurrying out of Tannyhill. The party filled with laughter, with people cheering Rafe on. But Rafe ignored the commotion, only focused on you.

"I'm so sorry baby. I should've been there to protect you from that—that asshat," Rafe apologetically said, tenderly stroking your cheek. You leaned into his touch, instantly comforted by the warmth radiating from his body.

"It's okay, Rafe," you assured him. "It's not like you could take me into the bathroom with you."

Rafe frowned, kissing the top of your head. "Maybe I should. Can't have these fuckin creeps tryna mess with my girl."

You laughed, shaking your head at your well-meaning boyfriend. "I adore you, but I'm not gonna stand there and watch you pee."

Rafe flashed you a lopsided grin. "Why not? We've done way worse things in there. That poor sink has seen some shit."

You playfully shoved Rafe's shoulder. "Rafe Alexander Cameron! I can't believe my knight in shining armor is so crass."

"Don't act like you don't love it, baby," he casually replied, kissing your neck. You let out a soft moan, tilting upward so Rafe could have more access.

The two of you were interrupted by the sound of Topper fake retching. "Begging y'all to please get a room," he pleaded. You couldn't help but snicker at Topper's dramatics.

Rafe lazily flipped off his friend before whisking you off to his bedroom and locking the door. "Get on the bed for me, pretty girl," Rafe said huskily, brushing his lips against your ear. Damn, that nickname sounded so much sexier from Rafe's lips than that douche from earlier. (Aaron? Andrew?)

You kicked off your sandals and laid down on top of Rafe's king-sized bed, pulling off your dress and underwear. Rafe quickly shed himself of his clothes and laid on top of you, kissing down every inch of your body.

"So I'm your knight in shining armor, huh? Well let me give my princess the treatment she deserves," Rafe drawled, relishing in the way your body reacted to his touch.

He plunged two fingers inside you, pumping them in and curling them right against your sweet spot. You gasped, loving the way he stretched you out. Rafe had been the only guy you'd ever slept with and at this point, you couldn't imagine yourself with anyone else; how could you, when you've only experienced the best?

You began to crave more than just his fingers, however. "Rafey," you whined, fully overcome with lust.

Rafe chuckled, lazily rubbing at your clit. "Use your words, princess. Tell me how to make you feel good."

You gulped, still feeling a little timid when it came to expressing your desires in the bedroom. "I need—I need your mouth, Rafey. Please."

Rafe knitted his eyebrows in mock confusion. "Where, baby? Your lips? Your cheek? Your forehead?"

"Rafe Cameron. Eat my pussy before I explode," you begged, your horniness taking over.

Rafe smirked, pulling his fingers out of you before slowly running his tongue across your folds. “Fuck, I love it when you talk dirty. Almost as much as I love this sweet little pussy. She's already so wet for me, holy shit."

You whimpered, arching your back in ecstasy as Rafe continued to pleasure you, kissing and sucking at your clit. You felt that familiar fire in your stomach, a sure sign that your climax was fast approaching.

"Oh, Rafe—'m gonna cum," you moaned, your legs shaking. Rafe sped up his movements, rubbing your clit with his thumb and index finger while pumping his tongue in and out of your hole. Eventually the dam burst and you felt your orgasm wash over you as your legs clamped down on either side of Rafe's head.

You took a minute to come down from your high, admiring the sight of your boyfriend with mussed-up hair and your glistening slick decorating his face. Even while looking totally disheveled, Rafe was a work of art.

Rafe wiped his face with the back of his hand, savoring the rest of your juices on his fingers. "Always my favorite meal baby," he purred. "But now I need to be inside you. Turn around for me, princess."

You shifted your position on the bed so you were lying on your stomach while Rafe rummaged in his bedside drawer for a condom. You heard him unwrapping the foil packet and rolling the condom on before feeling the head of Rafe's cock teasing your hole. You let out a breathy moan, loving and loathing the teasing simultaneously.

Rafe held on to your hips as he pushed into you, thrusting in and out at a steady pace. "Can't get enough of this pussy," he grunted. "So warm and tight f'me."

The din of the party going on downstairs faded away, and you could only focus on the sounds of sex occurring in the room: the duet of moans between Rafe and you, the creak of the bed, the sound of skin slapping against skin. A year ago, you couldn't imagine coming out of your shell like this. But now? Well—

"Gonna cum again, Rafey," you breathily blurted out, feeling your pussy clench down on Rafe's cock.

"Fuck yeah, princess, just come all over my cock," Rafe groaned.

Almost as if on cue, you felt your climax wash over you, and Rafe helped you ride out your orgasm before spilling his load into the condom. You had a fleeting thought about Rafe shooting his cum inside you instead, but you weren't quite ready for that yet.

You and Rafe took a minute to catch your breaths before he took off the condom and tied it up, tossing it into the wastebasket next to his bed. He rolled over on his side, enveloping you in his arms and burying his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

"Baby, you're incredible," Rafe murmured, kissing your shoulder.

You smiled, feeling light and airy inside. "Rafe, you're incredible. Thanks for being my scary dog earlier."

"I'm sorry, 'scary dog?'" Rafe repeated with a laugh.

"Scary dog privilege. It's something I saw on TikTok," you explained. "Basically it means that if you're with an intimidating-looking person, people will leave you alone because they don't want to mess with a scary dog. And seeing you be protective like that? It was pretty hot."

Rafe fondly gazed at you, stroking your hip. "Well shit, I'll be your scary dog anytime then, baby."

[petalsonmoon]

you hang from my lips like the Gardens of Babylon.

"it's ridiculous." then he leaned his body foward, his fingers meeting his toes. an elongation you would take embarrasingly months to be able to do that flawlessly.

"and really fucking stupid" he proceeds his thoughts.

"oh please, do go on." you look down to your notes and continue to write your ridiculous ideas.

the sun was far too bright and where its glow met the leaves of the large number of trees around you they were gleaming, like they were immensely happy.

"i hope your little notebook accidently burns to ashes."

"kind of you to say accidently."

"yeah no problem at all"

you glance up to find that he has his knee bended to his chest and quickly look back to the pen in your hand. quite misteriously your hands are stained from it.

"you making the walking sleeping bag one too?" his voice is raspy and angry and very clear. how does he sound so good while doing post training stretching?

perhaps you're looking too much into it. your crush makes you a bit giddy, idiotic in a lot of senses. makes you feel a child just like the word itself is infant. crush.

you sigh heavyly.

"still deciding" you draw a little explosion on the corner of the page.

"might as well do it for class b too."

"if i got a penny for every dramatic sentence that came out of your mouth-"

he had his back to you but he insisted on turning his head to you to send you the most chilling glare for exactly 3 seconds. that's his stupidity. his eyes were already too pretty in your eyes for you to feel an ounce of that anger.

"-only today i'd have like," you scrunch your nose "the amount of money equivalent to the ferocity of all might's powers."

he doesn't bother to look at you again and you smile.

"would you look at that. i should look for the person with this quirk."

he growls. loud. and you're smile is genuine.

he sits up straight, his back to you and starts leisurely move his neck. that's the sign he's almost done.

"putting too much money for those idiots.”

"it's not that much" you reason. "don't feel that way for too long, you're getting one too."

with that, it's over.

he turns to you and when those red eyes meet yours the trees are for sure shinning somewhat brighter.

the response for your affirmation it's a furrow between his eyebrows. his skin glowing a bit but that's not your absurd heart speaking, it's just his sweat.

"uhum" now you're messing with the grass. it estabilizes you. "yours is actually the only one that i drew and painted myself. the other ones i made with suna from the support course"

an ant crawled into your point finger.

"but don't tell them that." you whisper.

the ant made it to your pulse when you feel a literal body falling on top of you.

"you motherfucker! you are drenched-"

"that shitty little brain of yours-" his face on your neck. his words and breathing warming your whole body. you are exploding on the inside. how ironic.

"-and your stupid handmade keychains for the whole class" and then he lighly bites where your neck meets your shoulder.

his hands trails your arms, his fingers are burning pathways in your skin until they meet your hands and they interlock with your fingers. then he finally lifts his head and looks at you and what you're feeling is something words can't understand.

"i was gonna wait until graduation."

"tomorrow, you mean."

he bites your chin and you're so fucking certain you'll melt any second now. "because of that fucking tone i'm going to burn all of your little gifts."

you smile at him trying to match his damn audacity. his charm? his mind blowing handsomeness? "i'll murder you."

you blink and feel his breath on your neck again. "do it now, cupcake." then. his maddening warm and soft lips leaves a kiss under your earlobe. you close your eyes. "you have the power to."

"don't wait until tomorrow."

he lifts his head again and there's a smirk with a softness in the corner of it on his face. "or?"

"i might die." you whisper. it is serious to you. you need his lips on yours this very second. with his eyes on yours, telling you every adoration you thought about him for the last couple of months before going to bed, you think might. actually. die.

"who's the dramatic one now, brat?"

[vunblr]

Tangled (#8)

Pairing: Cecaelia! Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Slight Angst. Fluff. Slow Burn. Eventual teratophilia.

Summary: Between fear and fascination, a solitary creature struggles to protect his hidden world -and himself- after an unexpected encounter with a curious human woman makes him question everything he thought he knew about trust, danger, and boundaries.

Word Count: 4k

note: The chapter I wrote turned out to be too extensive, so I decided to post the first part today, so you guys have something to read while I polish the rest when I can -aka, you know what, you dirty little things-.

Previous Chapter

She arrived a bit later than usual, with a short-sleeved dress brushing her knees. Her basket swung lightly at her side as she picked her way across the familiar rocks, pausing when she spotted him.

“Hey,” she called, a little breathless.

Bucky offered a grunt in response, low and noncommittal.

He hadn’t planned to stay long. Just watch, maybe say a few words. But then the wind shifted.

His nostrils flared. Something foreign. Male. Not him.

It was faint, threaded through the fibers of her dress like smoke. His body tensed, and his pupils darkened, as a flick of something primal rose hard and fast in him.

“You were in town,” he said, more statement than question.

She nodded, crouching to set her basket down. “Yeah, this morning.”

He got a little closer, slightly narrowing his eyes. “Who did you meet?”

She blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Who did you meet?” he repeated, voice rougher now.

She tilted her head, with a curious frown pulling between her brows. “Well, Detective,” she said, dryly playful, “the old lady from the yarn shop. Then I grabbed a few groceries.”

He didn’t smile. Instead, he moved closer again, silent and imposing. The way his eyes roved her now were assessing, searching.

“Who is he?” he asked, low and firm.

“Who?”

“The man.”

She stared at him, knitting her brows tighter. “What man?”

His jaw clenched. “The male you let touch you.”

The words dropped like a stone in the water between them.

Her mouth parted in disbelief, the heat of confusion rising in her cheeks. “Excuse me?”

But he was already bristling, the scent clinging to her like a warning was difficult to ignore. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t meant anything by it. His body didn’t understand nuance, only instinct. Only the ache in his chest and the flare of something sharp and unwelcome in his gut.

"You smell like another man."

Her brows shot up at the bluntness of the comment. He was next to her now, silent and solid, with his tendrils half-curled on the rocks around her like restless shadows. Close, but not touching.

“Why would I-” she began, confused, and then her expression cleared. “Oh. Must be… when I was leaving the market, I tripped. Bags and all. Some guy caught me mid-fall.”

She watched his face carefully as she spoke. He didn’t respond, didn’t blink. His pupils were wide, black swallowing blue, and whatever emotion curled in the tight set of his mouth was unreadable.

Something in her bristled. She’d danced around this for too long, his moods, the way he drew close only to retreat again. Sometimes warm, sometimes so distant it left her aching.

And now this?

She lifted her chin, slightly narrowing her eyes. “What is it with you?”

No answer. Just that burning gaze on her.

She took a breath. “Last I checked, I don’t have to report to you about what I do with my time. Or who I meet.”

His jaw ticked, but he didn’t argue. Didn't even look away.

She didn’t either.

“You think it’s about control?” His mouth twitched, not quite a sneer, but something bitter and tight that didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t care who you see.”

A lie, maybe, or something he wanted to believe. “I just didn’t think you’d let someone touch you like that.” He shifted, the coil of his tendrils pulling back slightly, and his jaw was tight like it hurt to speak. “Not when I can’t even let myself.”

“Excuse me?” she snapped, furrowing her brows as she took a step closer. “Elaborate ‘touch me like that’, because stopping me from face-planting into the ground with all my groceries doesn’t exactly sound like some x-rated encounter to me.”

Her finger jabbed lightly against his chest, not hard, but enough to make a point. “And clearly you do care who I see. You wouldn’t be standing here growling questions at me if you didn’t.”

His mouth opened, but nothing came out fast enough.

“And what’s that crap about you don’t let yourself touch me?” she pressed, her voice lower now, more dangerous. “What the hell does that even mean, Bucky? Because from where I’m standing,” she went on, “it’s not that you don’t want to touch me. You did. You held me, curled around me, slept on me like a goddamn cat.”

He flinched, just slightly, but she caught it.

“And then spring came, and suddenly I’m radioactive? You don’t sit close anymore, you barely look at me, and now you’re accusing me of what? Letting some stranger touch me?” She laughed once, bitterly. “I’m not yours.”

That landed. His jaw clenched, and the muscles in his arms flexed before he leaned back a fraction, like her nearness burned. But she didn’t let him retreat.

“You either want me, or you don’t,” she murmured, locking her eyes on his. “But don’t keep treating me like I’m something you’re afraid of and then act possessive the second someone else so much as breathes near me.”

He snapped. Not in anger, but with something raw, tangled in his voice. “I do want you.”

Silence.

His throat bobbed. “I want you so much it hurts. But I don’t know if I’m allowed to. Or what you’d do if I let go.”

There it was. The truth lay bare between them like a wave crashing over the shore, impossible to ignore.

“Why… wouldn’t you be allowed?” she asked softly, with her voice stripped of all bravado. No challenge, only honest curiosity.

He looked at her, and then his gaze dropped low, to the dark, muscular limbs that curled and shifted restlessly around the rock, black and deep blue against the pale stone. They moved like they had a mind of their own, like they were already reaching for her in ways he wouldn’t let them. Wouldn’t let himself.

“I… I don’t mind,” she said softly.

A beat.

Her cheeks burned, but she didn’t take it back. Couldn’t. Not when his expression cracked, just a little. Surprise filtered in his handsome features first, then something else. Hope? No. Something more desperate, more dangerous than that. Like he wanted to believe her, but didn’t dare.

He’d been fighting it. Fighting himself. Telling himself it was unnatural, that he was unnatural for wanting her like that. For needing her with a hunger he’d never allowed before.

Because for someone like him to be wanted, it would take another kind of anomaly.

Another kind of beautiful, impossible aberration.

Someone like her.

He broke.

The restraint he'd clung to like a lifeline slipped through his fingers as he leaned into her, gathering her in his arms and pressing his face into the crook of her neck. His breath hitched as he inhaled her, sharp and deep, like she was the only clean air left in the world. His teeth clicked together once, a small but involuntary sign of the effort it took to keep from losing control.

She didn’t flinch.

Instead, she embraced him without hesitation, one hand firm between his shoulder blades, the other sliding up to cradle the back of his head. Threading her fingers into his damp hair, soothing.

His breathing grew heavier, more erratic.

“I need to touch you,” he said hoarsely, almost pained. “Like… like that time.”

She understood what he meant. She didn’t need him to explain.

“Then… do it,” she murmured into his hair.

He didn’t move for a heartbeat. But the tendrils, those dark limbs already spread over the rocks around her from when he'd first confronted her, began to stir again. Slow, deliberate. They slid from the stone toward her seated form, curling lightly around her calves, her waist, her back. Careful. Testing. Wanting.

She let him.

She exhaled, slow and warm against his temple, with her hands still in his hair, and her posture open. Inviting. Her body reacted to the embrace with something soft and welcoming, and he felt it. The trust.

The acceptance.

And it undid him in ways nothing else ever had.

He let himself sense her again, truly, deeply this time. The tendrils that had curled around her body slid more firmly into place, their rows of soft suckers brushing over her skin with slow, reverent intention. Not bruising. Not even gripping. Just tasting. Reading.

Each shift in her breath, each subtle twitch of muscle or flutter of pulse fed into him like whispers of her truth. Her scent deepened with warmth. Acceptance. Arousal. Not fear.

It overwhelmed him.

He reluctantly drew back from the crook of her neck, pupils wide and chest rising in shallow breaths. He looked at her, unsure what to do with the flood of sensations and the sharp ache of want clawing at his composure.

So she decided for him.

She leaned in and pressed her lips to his, soft, fleeting, almost chaste. But it lit something in him like flame to oil. His kind weren’t foreign to oral intimacy. He knew the language of mouths. Knew what it meant when lips met in surrender.

So he kissed her back.

Not softly.

His mouth claimed hers in a way that left no space for doubt. His hand found her waist, basking in her curves. The kiss deepened, and then, his tongue slid past her lips, slow and deliberate, a single fluid motion that mimicked everything his body ached to do if she let him. A promise. A preview.

He kissed her like he wanted to possess her, to imprint his longing on every part of her body. Like he couldn’t help but show her exactly what he meant when he said he needed to touch her. His tendrils pulsed faintly against her skin in reaction, still reverent but no longer shy, until she was left moaning into his mouth, wanting, needing.

And he, finally, allowed himself to want her back.

She gasped softly into his mouth, grabbing his shoulders, then sliding her fingers down the smooth plane of his damp chest. He slowed down and pulled back just enough to breathe, to look at her with half-lidded eyes. Her lips were enticingly swollen, parted in a daze, and he didn’t resist the urge to lean in again, to trace the curve of her lower lip with his tongue before gently sucking it into his mouth.

It wasn’t just a kiss, it was the kind of kiss that sent ripples down her spine and made warmth bloom low in her belly. And it wasn’t just the way he held her, tendrils tangled around every patch of exposed skin, suckers gently tasting her, reading her, cradling her.

"Well," she managed, trying to gather a few working brain cells through the haze, “that was-”

"Good?" he offered, in a low and warm voice against her pulse point before pressing a teasing nip where her neck met her shoulder.

"Hey!" she yelped, startled.

But he was already soothing the spot with his tongue, with his hands never leaving her skin.

“Sorry,” he murmured, retreating just a little, sliding his gaze away from hers. “I just…”

He exhaled slowly, and she felt the shift before he spoke again.

“You should probably go back.”

“What? Why?” she asked, breath still uneven. “We just-”

“Because,” he cut in quietly. A sigh. “You asked what was wrong with me.”

She went still.

“What’s wrong,” he continued, finally meeting her gaze, “is that it’s mating season for me. And I’m trying really hard not to just-”

“Oh,” she breathed, the single word thick with realization.

She looked at them, at the surreal embrace they were sharing, her body cradled in his tendrils, his upper half still pressed close. Her voice came quieter now, hesitant.

“And… can we?” Her cheeks burned. “I mean, is it even possible-”

“Yes.” His answer came low. “Nothing will result from what we do, but we are compatible to mate.”

“Oh.” She blinked, processing. “So we can-”

“I can be inside you. I can please you.”

“Don’t say it like that!” she nearly squeaked, burying her face in his shoulder.

He pulled back a little, brow furrowed in confusion. “You don’t want me to please you?”

“I do! I just-” she groaned softly, hiding her fluster behind a hand, “it’s embarrassing when you say it that bluntly.”

His throat worked as he swallowed, his gaze searching hers. “So… you are willing to mate with me?”

She exhaled slowly and nodded.

“Not today,” she murmured. “But… yes.”

Bucky stilled.

For a moment, he just looked at her, like he hadn’t quite heard right. Like the ground beneath them had shifted, and he was trying to find his footing. His pupils widened again, and the arms encircling her drew her just a little closer, instinctively.

“You mean that,” he said hoarsely. Not a question. A realization.

She gave a nervous smile but nodded again. “Yeah. I mean it.”

A shudder ran through his body. Not of cold, but of tension, finally beginning to ease. He bowed his head, gently pressing his forehead to hers. His hands cupped her face with surprising care, stroking the edges of her jaw with his thumbs. The tendrils around her twitched, clenching briefly before relaxing again.

“I thought…” he started, then stopped. Swallowed. “I thought I’d ruin it if I told you how much I wanted you.”

She felt his breath on her lips, warm and uneven.

“I’ve never wanted someone like this,” he murmured. “Didn’t think I could.”

Her heart gave a painful thump. She cupped the side of his neck, brushing her thumb over the pulse that fluttered quickly under her touch.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” she said softly. “You’re just… making it hard to breathe a little.”

That pulled a low sound from him -something between a chuckle and a groan- and he leaned in, brushing his nose against her cheek.

“I won’t rush you,” he promised, though his breath betrayed him, shallow and quick where it fanned over her skin.

But even as the words left his mouth, one of his tendrils traced a slow, deliberate path along the side of her calf. A teasing slide, a test of restraint. It didn’t grip, didn’t urge, it simply lingered there, as if trying to memorize the shape of her body.

She shivered, but not from the cold.

“...But I think you should leave for today.” He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, the blues of his irises dark and troubled. “The urges I have right now… they’re not easy to quell. Not during mating season.”

There was no shame in his tone, only quiet frustration. Honesty. “You’d understand it better if you were one of my kind,” he added, almost apologetically. “I want to respect you.”

Her heart gave a little ache to the conflict written across his features. “I wish I could stay with you a little longer,” she said softly, brushing her fingers along the shell of his ear. “But I don’t want to make things harder for you.”

His arms closed tighter around her in response, and a low sound left his throat, something between a sigh and a groan. “Already are,” he muttered against her throat, just before his teeth grazed her skin. He nipped gently at the crook where her neck met her shoulder again, then soothed it with a slow, wet drag of his tongue.

She gasped, and heat sparked in her lower belly.

“I can smell your readiness,” he murmured, with his voice low and wrecked. “I know what I’d find if I just... gave in.”

She didn’t deny it. Couldn’t. “Oh. Y-you can?”

He nodded once, still pressed against her pulse. “Yes,” he said, “And it’s hard not to act with my instincts.”

The tendril on her calf slid upward, languidly, curling along the curve of her thigh with a gentle squeeze. It stopped just shy of anything indecent -barely intentional-before retreating, as if reluctant to leave her warmth behind.

Her breath caught in her throat, and her cheeks heated. The idea that he could smell her arousal -sense it like some undeniable beacon- was as thrilling as it was mortifying. Her body reacted to him so easily, so instinctively, but now she knew he didn’t even need to guess.

She swallowed hard, trying to clear the fog in her mind. The way his tendril slid up her thigh had made her thighs clench, made her want more, but she also needed to think. To breathe. This -whatever was happening between them- wasn’t just physical, at least not for her.

And as much as she wanted him, she needed clarity.

Was this surge of intimacy between them something real, something he chose? Or was it simply the flood of primal instincts tied to his mating season? Was she just… close and willing? Or did he want her beyond this?

She blinked at the sunlight, suddenly hyper-aware of the time. It was still midday. Bright, open, and exposed. Sure, people tended to avoid this stretch of shore, but anyone walking by could see them. See her, practically curled into his chest, his limbs lazily wrapped around her like some sensual sheath.

Her heart beat a little faster, not just from the embarrassment, but the desire to protect whatever was growing between them.

She exhaled, calming herself, and brushed her fingers along his jaw.

“I’ll go,” she said, gently, not pulling away just yet. “But... we need to talk about this. About you and me. Not now,” she added quickly, “but when you feel more… like yourself.”

Her thumb swept across the line of his cheekbone. “I need to know if this is just… instinct. Or if you’d still want me, even when your season is over.”

His gaze focused on her face, conflicted. She could see it, something sharp and heavy behind his eyes that he still hadn’t named.

“I do want you,” he said at last, his voice low and rough with restraint. “It’s not just the season. It just… makes it harder to hide.”

He didn’t say more, but the silence between them stretched, filled with all the things he wouldn’t -couldn’t- admit yet. The things he thought about himself when he was alone in the dark. That maybe he didn’t deserve closeness. That maybe everything he'd done -regardless of how or why- meant he should stay isolated.

But she made it difficult. She made him hope.

His fingers brushed hers briefly. “We’ll talk,” he murmured. “Another day.”

The tendril curled around her thigh loosened, slowly retreating like a wave drawing back into the sea. The others followed, unwinding from her body with reluctant grace, the soft suction releasing her skin with barely audible pops that made her shiver.

His gaze stayed on her for a breath longer, his jaw clenched like he was holding something back, words, urges, things she couldn’t name. Then he dropped his eyes, and his shoulders shifted subtly, drawing in as if he were pulling armor around himself again.

Without another word, he slid into the water, disappearing in a slow, sinuous motion, the tips of his limbs were the last of him to vanish into the surf. A ghost of warmth remained where he’d held her, but the absence felt colder than the breeze rolling in from the sea.

----

That night, under the hot spray of the shower, she let her head rest against the tiled wall, closing her eyes as the water slid over her skin. The day replayed itself in vivid fragments with startling clarity. So it had taken a silly accident -nearly falling on the street- for the truth to slip free. The reason behind his strange, aching distance these past weeks.

Not disinterest. Not discomfort. He’d been struggling. Holding himself back.

She exhaled, covering her face with wet hands, heat blooming in her chest that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. The gifts he’d left her weren’t just gestures of goodwill. They were offerings.

And in land, during those colder months, when he came to her? He still was protective during their visits to town... she remembered how stiff he’d become when men looked at her too long. How he always stood just a little closer than necessary. People noticed -how not to?- some edged away under his relentless stare. It wasn’t just because he worried for her in a friendly way his kind will be. No. He hadn’t been worried. He’d been possessive. Jealous, maybe. Struggling to be better behaved, to rein it in for her sake. And failing, sometimes.

It was there. It had always been there.

He felt the pull, too.

That simple truth rattled around her chest, knocking loose every excuse she’d made for his distance. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her, it was that he did. He’d said so. Had fought himself, tangled in the same storm she had, long before this mating season muddled everything.

She had come to terms with her own desire weeks ago. The tentative glances, the way her body leaned toward him before her mind could stop it. She’d admitted -at least to herself- that what he was didn’t frighten her. That it wasn’t a barrier. If anything, it made her curiosity sharper, and her pull toward him deeper. Maybe there was something objectively wrong with her for that.

But apparently something was wrong with him too, if he felt the same.

Two peculiar -no, let’s say it- two weird beings, each a little off in the eyes of their own kind.

So what was stopping her, then?

----

She had said yes.

Freely. Calmly. Without pressure or fear. She had looked at him and chosen him. And now, Bucky’s body was in overdrive.

It took everything in him not to pounce, not to claim her the second her voice laced with acceptance, the second her body responded with that telltale warmth he could smell, taste, and feel lingering on his skin. He was trembling by the time he pulled away, trembling still hours later as he curled in the dark of his den, panting quietly against the cool stone, trying to calm the storm inside him with nothing but memory and his fucking hand.

He felt like an animal. No, less than one. Unhinged. Fractured by years of solitary mating seasons, of urges swallowed down with saltwater and grit. But this time, it wasn’t just the burn of biology, it was her. The thought of her. The weight of her thighs under his limbs. The way she’d gasped into his mouth, pressed her hands against his skin like she wanted to learn his shape too.

She’d chosen him.

And yet, all he could do was lie there, with ragged breath whispering her name into the dark while the desire and guilt churned in his gut.

Because he still didn’t know if he deserved that yes.

He had told her before he left: it wasn’t just instinct. Not for him. The truth was, he’d been drawn to her from the moment she offered him life. Since he took the form he loathed, and climbed the rocks with legs he barely trusted, just to see if the fragile creature who had shared her essence with him was still breathing.

His kind didn’t attach easily. Didn’t bond unless there was a purpose.

But he had. To her.

And now she had said yes to that thing -the one who had been used, manipulated, made a weapon under human greed- and his heart was caught between euphoria and dread.

She had the right to know.

And more importantly, he had the right to be seen for everything he was, not just the parts he managed to show her through veiled glances and cautious touches.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @civilbucky @thatesqcrush @lonelyghosts-stuff @x-press-it @the-voice-beckons-below @angelilacsworld @dollface-xoxo @mcira @lazyneonrabbitt @vxllys @namjoohnie @sebastians-love @misspendragonsworld @thewriters64 @escapefromrealitylol @hi172826 @wintrsoldrluvr @reddesires @ruexj283 @buckvoidsyy @littlesuniee @kimberly-stocks @pandaxnienke @ladypncl @homiesexuallaj @kulteule @awesompawsum @killerwendigo @princessgriffin1998 @helen-2003 @nynxtea @alagalaska @maryevm

dividers by @/strangergraphics

[rafesslxt]

𝜗℘ ᶻ 𐰁 ⟢ ݂ drew vs. rafe buying a dog with reader

warnings: none, fluff

note: got inspired by my 4 yrs old dog and my 'new' boyfriend, he said he would never buy a dog blah but let's me move in with mine hahah and guess who's bathing her and cuddling her now? so, the rafe part is literally and completely my bf <3, english is not my first language

౨ৎ .ᐟ .ᐣ ᡣ𐭩 drew

⤻ with drew it was a easy task. he already loves dogs, is always surrounded by them and grew up with them

⤻ "you've got an album in your gallery of me with dogs?" he chuckled when he searched for a specific photo on your phone. "hey! that's private!"

⤻ you started with little hints like pointing at every dog in the streets that you saw walking by with their owners, especially when it was a couple

⤻ "wow, they look like a happy little family." you gushed while turning your head to look after them

⤻ "this space here is so empty. we should find something that will fit in here.", while pointing at a random corner in your shared flat

⤻ downloading an app with him where you have to take care of an digital little dog on your phones "wanna see If you'd be a good dad"

⤻ then one day, out of nowhere, drew would be like "okay love, what kind of breed do you want?"

౨ৎ .ᐟ .ᐣ ᡣ𐭩 rafe

⤻ just at the slightest hint you would get an immediate "no."

⤻ he says he doesn't have time for a dog and doesn't wanna have to babysit it all the time and take care of it's literal shit "but babe, I take care of your shit too the whole time!"

⤻ yeah, guess who didn't thought it was funny

⤻ and guess who also didn't thought it was funny when he came home and found you sitting in the yard with a freaking puppy sleeping on your lap while your left hand caressed it's fur and your other hand googling on your phone 'how to raise a german shepard'

⤻ "bring it back right now!" "I can't! I bought it!" "If you don't I'll do it y/n, I mean it!" "If you touch my baby, I'll rip your head off!"

⤻ it only took two days for rafe to slowly accept the fact that he had no say in this at all even tho it was his house you two lived in

⤻ "so.. what's his name?" "her" "what? you wanna call it 'her'?" "no, you idiot. I meant it's a her. you have a daughter." "oh lord help me."

⤻ two more days passed and when you got back home from grocery shopping, your dog was dripping wet just like rafe's clothes. you looked at them suspicious and before you could say something, he did. "I bathed her after she shitted herself." you looked at him for a second before you started laughing your ass off, almost tripping over with the two bags in your hands.

⤻ "I think I have a name for her." rafe raised a brow at you, currently sitting across from you with her on his lap, sleeping again after chasing birds and ducks in the garden the whole day. "April." "April?" "Yeah. Something cute but simple. We got her in april and I like that her name begins with an 'a' plus it means lively and fresh."

⤻ Rafe was silent for a moment, looking down at April before smiling and nodding "yeah, it fits her good baby, good idea."

⤻ months passed and you two took her everywhere with you. shopping, chilling on the yacht, you even got her on a supboard.

⤻ on some days you took her with you to the Pogues, chilling at the beach and sitting around the fire at night, laughing and having fun. everyone got along with her so well and she soon became a member of the little family you all were.

bonus:

⤻ after about 7 month later, April was already much bigger. you always took a morning walk with her through the streets, everyone greeting you two and smiling and your happy but protective dog.

⤻ the video that you posted in your story at 7:02 am:

hope you liked it boo‘s <33

xoxo sarah <3

[writerinthewoods05]

Shadows and Snow Angels

Azriel x Reader, Azriel x child OCs

Chapter 2 - My scars won't heal

Normally when your mate Azriel comes home from the camps and asks you not to get mad it's because he brought home another wounded animal, not a baby boy...

Word count: 1.5k

💔 💘

Series warnings: past emotional abuse, past physical abuse, past emotional trauma, non explicit thoughts of suicide, depression, parental doubt, child abandonment, past child abandonment, brief talk of past pregnancy. no details mentioned, mention of non explicit SA, we die like men. Every chapter will be individually tagged.

If you don't like what your reading click off!

Author's note: ok, so I kinda his a manic a episode and now I'm writing the second chapter literally the minute I posted the first. We'll see how long it will take me to finish this one but if y'all are lucky, maybe we'll get 2 chapters in one day!

Author's note 2: lucky streak gone but at least it'll be on time. I'm gonna try to post a new chapter every Friday, but we'll see how it goes, life's kinda crazy rn.

Chapter warnings: brief talk of child abuse, Azzie is a traumatized baby, this chapter is actually more fluff than angst but still, we die like men.

Rhys opened the door, only in his pajamas with his hair sticking up in random places. It must have been a long night. Nyx just turned two a couple months ago and he was having a horrible time sleeping through the night. Rhys and Feyre took shift but everyone knew that Rhys was the one that usually stayed up with him.

"hey I'm sorry, I know it's late, or well early, but we officially have an emergency." You said while Rhys just glanced between the two of you, it took him a good second to realize that there was suddenly an extra little one with you both. Azriels shadows darted past Rhys's feet to go check if the house was safe.

"yeah come on in, I'll go get Feyre." Rhys stepped aside and let you both in before jogging tiredly up the stairs to get his mate. You quietly sat down on the couch to re adjust the little hat Elain made for Astrid, fixing it to sit on her delicate head better. You chuckled as Rhys's appearance. Who knew that out of get trapped in hell for 50 years, enduring another war and having a baby, it was the baby that finally got him. "Poor high lord."

Azriel was still standing but he seemed to be enjoying bouncing Rhain in his arms, rocking him side to side as his shadows created a Shadowy mobile above them. He chuckled softly at your comment, glance in his brothers direction before looking back to the little boy in his arms. They were practically making heart eyes at eachother, if it wasn't so late at night you might have asked Feyre to paint it.

The way Azriel interacted with children was honestly what drew him to you in the first place and the ease in the way he can calm them makes your heart melt every time. Your mate was always so still and calm so seeing him bouncing and sway your daughter and the same way he does with Rhain now, made your heart soar higher than the stars above.

You were still smiling at your mate when you heard rushed footsteps flying down the stairs. You didn't have to look up to know that Feyre was running to come see the little one. The Shadows flared defensively but calmed at the sight of their high lady.

"OK, WHERE TH-" you shushed her quickly before she woke up all three kids in the house. She was still in her night gown and her hair was tied back messily. "Sorry, where the hell did this little cutie come from!..."

You chuckled as Feyre took Rhain from your mate. He looked skeptical and basically hovered over his sister in-law as she cuddled the baby. The Shadows however, seemed content to huddle around you and Astrid on the couch, completely ignoring their masters anxious behavior.

"Az, would you calm down, she's not gonna drop him." You say barely containing your laughter. He was actually just as overprotective as the day you brought your daughter home. It was adorable.

"Oh my gods! What's his name?!" Feyre squealed quietly and came to settle on the couch next to you. Rhain was babbling softly and grabbed Feyre's finger in his small hand.

"Rhain. His name is Rhain." Azriel said, still standing next to feyre, he's hands twitching at his side, wanting to take Rhain back from her. You shook your head at his antics, he's had this baby in his care for like 2 hours and he's already acting like Mother hen.

"I'm sorry, I know it late and I know that Nyx id having issues sleeping but we don't have anything that will fit him and I decided that this officially classified as an emergency."

"No, don't worry about it at all! Not at all, no! Not at all!" She said less to you as she cooed down at your little boy before actually lifter her gaze to you and responding. "Yeah, absolutely this is an emergency. Come on I'm sure I could spare some jumpers for him, Cauldron knows that Rhys is gonna buy him more anyway."

Feyre stood and tried to walk away with the Rhian still wrapped I her arms but a wall of shadows came to block her from walking away just long enough for Azriel to take him back. Feyre just rolled her eyes and lead you upstairs, muttering jokingly to herself about Azriel being overprotective.

2 hours later you all were back at your own home, azriel settling the baby's down for bed. You had added a temporary separator in the crib just for tonight, you'll have to make a trip to the Palace quarters tomorrow for another one. Your mate had just finished building your daughter's nursery and now you're either gonna have to rearrange everything or finds another room in your home for a second nursery... Wonderful...

Once they were both swaddled, wings and all, they were out like a light before he could flip the switch. You were sitting in bed trying to read and relax but you mind was reeling from the days events. Your mind wandered to Rhain. He was so small, he still had that fresh baby smell. You had tried to explain the smell to Mor one time but she thought you were crazy, must be a mom thing. He was underweight and dehydrated from what you could tell, the poor thing could barely suckle the bottle you had fed him earlier. You were lost in thought, book discarded laying open in your lap, as Azriel came into the room, his footsteps as silently as ever.

"So how much trouble am I in?" Your head snapped up at his voice. 4 years... 4 years you had been together and he still manages to sneak up on you, you'd think you would be better at spotted him now but no. You looked up at him, you eyes locked on him as you pulled yourself from the whirlwind of questions and worries you had gotten lost in. He was leaning forward against the bed frame at the foot of the bed. His Shadows fluttered and flitted out into the room randomly as per usual when it was time for bed. It was interesting, most people thought Azriels Shadows were just extensions of him but in reality, most of them had personalities and curiosity, it was kinda cute to watch them.

"come here..." You opened your arms for him and waited as he quickly shrugged off his leathers and siphons, a few of the Shadows helping him by catching his siphons and placing them on the dresser silently. He sank onto he stomach and into your arms with a sigh. He nuzzled his face into your chest as his wings relaxed and sprawled across the massive bed.

"I'm not upset with you. I mean I would have loved a heads up that we were gonna adopt an infant today but I know that the circumstances were anything but ideal. Trust me I would have been PISSED if I found out you didn't bring him home. You are the most compassionate and empathetic person I've ever known. Thats one of the reasons I love you so much." You smile as you feel every muscle in his body melt under your hands, your fingers working out the knots from his back. He let out a breathy moan when you gently pressed your fingers into the onyx skin at the base of his wings.

"he needed me, and you. Besides your a good mama, if anyone could give him the love he needs it's you..." He lifted himself slightly to settle on top of you better, he's arms wrapping around your waist and his thighs spreading yours a bit more. You took a second to bask in the moment, your fingers tangling and brushing through his hair, a couple of shadows coming to rest on the pillow next to you. You thanked the mother for moments like this. For the times when you both could just hold each other and feel just as loved and seen as if you had spent the night making the house shake.

"Thank you... for understanding, for not being upset. You have every right to be..." azriel mumbled, his voice laced with emotion. He was right, you did have a right to be mad but you weren't. How could you ever be upset with him for being the most loving male in Prythian?! You hugged him tighter and kissed his forehead.

"Do you wanna talk about it? Whatever your thinking about?" You smoothed a hand over his back to try and comfort him. Even though you had been mated for a few years there were still secrets and things he refused to tell you, especially about his excuse of a childhood. You knew the basics, a general idea of how he was treated but he never went into details. You liked to think he wouldn't tell you because he knew you would find his half brothers and rip them to shreds, although You knew in reality it was most likely just to painful to actively try to remember.

"yeah I do, but not tonight. I... we can talk about it tomorrow, I don't want to ruin the night..." He said choosing his words carfully. Azriel easily sat up and flipped you both so you to rest against his side and pulled the covers over you both, the Shadows that had been occupying the pillow previously jumped away I'm a misty puff. You didn't press. You knew he would tell you when he was ready to open up. It made sense, that he past would rear it's ugly head after he brought Rhain home. You left a small kiss on his chest before snuggling into him and letting yourself drift off into your thoughts, the shadows descending over you both is calm wave urging you both into sleep.

Thank you so much for reading and as always I hoped you enjoyed this chapter! If you wanna be added to the tag list please comments or DM me to be added!

Taglist

@romantasyreader28 @tele86 @mulansaucey @jennnsthings @6v6babycheese @mich0731 @starlightandsouls @ohemgeewhat @littlelunatica @icey--stars @paleidiot @jir67 @celestialamore @rcarbo1 @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @queenoffeysand @suppppp97

[foulphantomllama]

My Secret Desire | AESPA Winter x Male Reader

I decided to post the new chapter today because I was supposed to post something else today. But as you can guess, I did not liked it enough to post it. So enjoy the new chapter!

4. The Package

She send me a pair of her underwear. With a little note on them saying “Make good use of them until i come back and get them.” And she drew a little emoji winking at the end.

But she wasn’t coming over. Neither to school nor my house. She was barely texting me. And when she does, she only makes me horny and disappear completely. I asked about her to one of her friends but they were in it too. I all got for a response was to wait. So I waited. After nearly a week and a half later, my door was knocking. It was her. I looked at the peekhole. I opened the door. She went straight in. Saying nothing. She took off her shoes and jumped to my bed. Getting ready to take a nap. I closed the door and started watching her. After a moment of silence I wanted to check on her. She was sleeping. She literally was gone for nearly two weeks and now she is back sleeping in my room.

But no. This was my time to act. I couldn’t just let her win every time. I sit beside her and woke her up. “What?” she asked me. Her attitude was making me angry. This attitude of her was the main reason I hate her as much as I love her. “What do you mean “What?”!” “You come into my house, crying. You’re not saying a single word. We fuck, you disappear for nearly two weeks. Than you sending me your panties. And after a few days later you appear on my doorstep and pretending none of this happened?” She looked at me. Holding her laugh. “Yes.” She said. Then burst into laughing.

I hold her arms. I mean, I hold them pretty tight. Her laugh was disappearing quickly. She realized that I’m really angry now. But she was not holding back either. “Come on big boy, what do you have in mind?”

I knew her intention. She wants sex again. But no. She needs to know that she does not always get what she wants from me. We fuck when I want to fuck. She grabbed my cock. But my cock was not hard this time. Because I was furious. “Come on, stop resisting. I know you want me.” She was thigtening her grab as she talks to me. I pushed her to the bed. “Okay, now we’re talking.” She said. But the following event was not someting that she would expect. I dressed up, took the keys and locked her inside my apartment. She has no other option to wait for me. My apartment was pretty high up so she couldn’t use the balcony to run away. But also, I had zero worries that she wants to escape. I was confident that she will wait for me. No matter how long I took to come back to my apartment.

I grabbed some ramen from my favourite store. It was just around the corner of my apartment. Then I rented a film from one of the stores that is not far from my apartment. Then I go to my apartment. Opened the door. There she was. Sitting on the toilet without closing the toilets door. “You should at least close the door.” I said to her. She rolled her eyes and answered. “You should be grateful that I did not pissed on to your carpet. You dick.” She was acting just like I imagined she would. “I am hungry. You did get something to eat, right?” I showed her the ramen I bought. “You’re the best boyfriend in the world.” Then she added. “Probably.” I asked her while I put the ramens on the kitchen counter. “What do you mean boyfriend?” She got up and came towards me. “Duh, dude you fucked me and cum into my throat. And I fucking swallowed it. What do you think we are? Study buddies?”

“So, you loved me from the beggining.” I asked. “Both.” She answered. “I fucking love you so much and I hate you so fucking much.” She also said. I can take that. “I love you because you’re the most precious person ever. I hate you because you’re too precious to be real. That you will gone to your own country an forgot about me.”

Her words hurt me a lot. But not in a bad way. I was hurt because I did not see it before. She was never bullying me. She just wanted my attention. Because she was thinking that I will leave her because she was not clever enough. What a bad way to think about yourself. And this was the exact reason I hated her to my guts. She was so hard to get along with. She was meaning the world to me. Yet, whenever I tried to show her this, she accused me by being delusional. Saying she is not enough for me or so. I may be too harsh to say I hated her just for this, trust me this kind of toxicity can kill. But my love for her was always getting the spotlight. It was the same for her too.

“I am so sorry If I ever hurt you with my words. I was never a bully. I just wanted your attention. And you weren’t giving me.” She hit me with your little fist as she talks. I hugged her. “No, I won’t be going anywhere. Not now at least.” She showed me her middle finger. And then she realized the film I rented. She took the dvd and started inspecting it. “I heard that this one is so shit.” She said. “It is pure shit.” I answered. Her response was hilarious, and expected. “Then why the fuck you rented this?” It turns out that this was just the way she communicates. Not exactly helping her with the social life but, kind of makes her hot and cute. Or I was just obsessed with her.

I prepared the ramen and we started eating. “Put the film on.” She said. I put the film on. In under ten minutes our meals were finished. She paused the film and said “Okay let’s agree on something.” I said go on. “If i get bored in the next ten minutes, we fuck. If I don’t we don’t fuck.” I was confused a little. “Why do I get punished for choosing I film that you probably like?” I asked. “Haha. That is how I work, honey.”

She watched that entire film. I can realize that she wasn’t really liked it. But she did it because she wanted to annoy me. But I wanted her. So I started to kiss her neck. “No hickeys.” She said. “My mother will fucking kill me.” Of course I was going to give her a hickey. “If you’re going to give me a hickey just do it on a place my mother wouldn’t be able to see.” She said. I took of her tshirt. I left a hickey on her left shoulder. “Your mother wouldn’t see that, I think.” I said. She mimics me. Then laughs. “You ruined the ending.” She said. “Come on! It was already shit how I could possibly ruined the ending.” I answered. She nodded.

“I’m just going to give you a blowjob, and get the hell out of here. I’m already late. I was gone to buy some rice. My mother still waiting me to bring rice.” She said. “I have an unopened package of rice. You can take it on your way out.” She gave me a thumbs up. Then took off my pyjamas. She was on her knees. She licked my cock over my underwear. Then she took of my underwear. Took my cock inside her mouth. Her mouth was so warm. And I already knew that she is very skilled when it comes to sucking cock. But she was too shy to make eye contact. I did not pushed her to her limits just yet. I just let her give me head peacefully, in her own terms. “Are you going to swallow it again?” I asked. She took it off from her mouth to answer me. “Well, i want to but you bought me a gigantic ramen. I don’t want to throw up the first meal you bought me.” She started sucking it again. I asked her to look into my eyes. She started to look up. She was looking so good with my cock in her mouth. I mean, she was probably the cutest girl I’ve ever seen. And she was my girlfriend.

“I’m going to swallow it.” She said. “Do not pull it out when you’re about to cum.” I pulled my cock out. “What makes you change your mind.” I asked her. “You forgot to buy me beverage. Can I please finish it and go???” “Okay, okay sorry.” I answered. “All yours.” She got faster and faster. Then I came into her mouth. First she showed me her mouth full of my cum. Then she swallowed it and showed me her empty mouth. I pull her closer to me and kissed her lips. “You just kissed your own cum.” She laughed. “But off your mouth.” I answered. “But it makes you gay.” She answered. I looked at her face laughing. “Okay, I’m going. Give me the rice.” I give her the rice I bought the other day. “Hey, mom! I just blowed my boyfriend and he give me a packet of rice.” She was laughing out loud while saying that. “At least you keep the money.” I said.  “You’re so very right sir. Goodbye.” She saluted me and went out the door. I followed her. “No kiss goodbye?” She came closer, I was taller than her. She signalizes me to bow down. I did. She put her middle finger into my mouth. “Here’s your kiss.”

God I love her.

[leahrintarou]

✩₊˚.⋆ TOP DONATOR ! - toji fushiguro / 10.05 / kinktober

CW: voice kink, camboy!toji x reader, fem reader, female anatomy, pet names, fingering, teasing, toji might be ooc.

Word Count: 4.1k

Author's Note: welcome to the third post of kinktober! i hope you guys enjoy reading this chapter :) leave a like or reblog to show support!

the flicker of a dim screen lit up y/n’s darkened bedroom as she watched the live stream roll on. her eyes were glued to the muscular figure lounging against a bed, his deep, gravelly voice filling her headphones as if he were right there beside her. he was shirtless, as usual, wearing nothing that left her to wonder what his body looked like.

it wasn’t just the way he looked. no, it was something about the way he spoke, the lazy arrogance in his tone, the deep rumble of his voice that seemed to vibrate down her spine. every word he said, no matter how mundane or explicit, had a hold on her. and when he spoke directly into the mic—spoke directly to her—it felt like she was the only person in the world he was performing for.

y/n had been following him for months. he was a stranger, really, but the kind of stranger who had somehow worked his way into her life. her days were filled with waiting for the next notification, the next live stream, the next time she could throw some money his way just to hear him say her name. the way he drawled it out with that husky voice, like he knew exactly what it did to her.

but lately, something had started to gnaw at her. she’d lost track of how much she’d spent—hundreds, maybe more—on someone who didn’t even know her beyond a username. it was thrilling, sure, but it was also starting to feel... hollow. he wasn’t real. not to her. not in the way she wanted him to be.

y/n sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest as she watched him on the screen, casually teasing the chat. she knew she had to get her shit together. this wasn’t healthy. this wasn’t real. he was just a guy on a screen who got her going with a voice and a body that was too perfect to be true.

she stared at the screen for a long moment, fingers hovering over the donate button one last time. but then she stopped. it was time to let this go.

that night, she deactivated her account for one month.

the next few weeks felt strange. she tried to distract herself, downloaded a few dating apps to fill the void, but nothing compared to the thrill of his voice. the apps felt clinical, and everyone she matched with felt like a watered-down version of what she’d been craving.

still, she stuck with it. it was time to meet real people, not hide behind a screen and let her fantasies run wild. after a string of bad dates and awkward conversations, she finally matched with someone who caught her attention. his profile was vague, just a few pictures of him at the gym and some casual shots with friends, but there was something about his way of speaking that seemed familiar, even though she couldn’t quite place it.

his name was toji.

after a few dates with toji, y/n found herself growing more comfortable around him. there was something about his presence that drew her in—the easy confidence, the way he spoke with a lazy sort of charm. but what caught her attention the most was his voice. every time he spoke, there was a nagging sensation at the back of her mind. it was familiar. way too familiar.

they had been talking for a few weeks, and the more time they spent together, the more certain she became. his deep, gravelly voice—it reminded her of him, the guy she used to watch on those late-night streams. the one whose videos she used to spend way too much money on. it was too much of a coincidence, right? she had tried to push the thought aside, convincing herself that it was all in her head. but now, it was almost impossible to ignore.

on their latest date, after a casual dinner, y/n invited him over to her place. they’d been hanging out for a while now, and things felt comfortable between them. she didn’t think twice about letting him into her home. they settled in her living room, the conversation flowing as easily as it always did.

“i’m just gonna run to the bathroom,” she said after a while, setting her phone down on the coffee table. she shot him a smile before heading off, leaving toji alone on her couch.

toji leaned back, glancing around her living room. he liked hanging out with her, but right now, something else had been on his mind. he had been hiding his growing arousal ever since they got here, the tension building from the moment they stepped through the door. part of him wanted to stay casual, keep things going at their pace, but another part of him couldn’t help himself. it had been a few hours since his last post on his private account, and he needed to stay active, keep the followers coming back for more.

he pulled out his phone, checking his feed for a second. the temptation was too much. maybe he could sneak in a quick post—something simple, just enough to keep things interesting. he glanced down at the bulge in his pants, feeling his length twitch at the thought. why not?

toji shifted slightly, pulling down the waistband of his pants just enough to expose his erection. he held his phone up, angling it so that the shot captured the fabric of his jeans and the hard-on he’d been hiding for the past half hour. with a smug smirk, he snapped the picture, uploading it to his account before y/n came back. no caption. no explanation. just the shot. pulling his pants up, he felt a sense of satisfaction.

just as he hit post, y/n’s phone lit up on the table beside him. he heard the soft ping of a notification and turned his head, curiosity getting the better of him. his eyes flicked to her screen, and what he saw made his heart skip a beat.

his username. his notification.

toji froze for a second, his mind racing. there, on her lock screen, was the same username he had just posted under. it was unmistakable. she was still following him.

he quickly put his phone away as he heard the sound of y/n coming back down the hallway. his pulse quickened, the realization settling in. she had been watching him. donating to him. his top donor. it had to be her, afterall, her username just above the notification was the exact same one he grew to find familiar.

when y/n stepped back into the room, she noticed the look on his face. something had shifted. “everything okay?” she asked, her brow furrowing as she glanced between him and her phone.

toji didn’t say anything at first, just gave her a slow, knowing smile. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked up at her, his eyes glinting with amusement. “look familiar, angel?”

y/n blinked, confused for a moment. then, her eyes flicked down to her phone, still lit up with the notification. her breath caught in her throat. the username—the same one she had been following for months—was staring back at her. her heart dropped as she realized what he meant.

her gaze shifted to toji, and then to his pants, which were still slightly hanging off his hips. she reached for her phone to oppen up the notification and her eyes widened as she took in the sight, her mind racing. the photo. the pants. the background. she glanced around her living room, the realization crashing over her like a wave.

“oh my god,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. toji chuckled softly, leaning back against the couch. “surprised?”

her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, a mixture of disbelief and shock washing over her. all this time, she had been watching him, donating to him, and now he was sitting right in front of her, smirking like he had known all along.

“i—i didn’t know,” she stammered, her heart racing in her chest. she felt exposed, vulnerable, like her secret obsession had just been laid bare in the most unexpected way possible.

“seems like we’ve got a little more in common than you thought,” toji said, his voice low and teasing. he glanced at her, his smirk widening as he watched her try to process everything. y/n swallowed hard, her mind spinning. the familiar voice, the cocky smile, the way he moved. it had all been there, right in front of her, and she hadn’t even realized it.

“so... what now?” she asked, her voice shaky.

toji shrugged casually, his gaze never leaving hers. “that depends on you, angel. i’ve been here this whole time. maybe we can stop pretending."

"this is actually so crazy." she let out a nervous laugh. "it is, but i can't believe i was able to meet my top donater. it got pretty lonely without your message during every livestream." smiled, sitting up when y/n took a small step towards him. "yeah well spending all of that money probably wasn't the best habit to get into."

"you didn’t need to spend money for me to notice you." he let out a small laugh, almost as if it was obvious.

"you've always stuck out to me."

his voice. that was all she could focus on. its like she was drawn to it. literally. she took a step closer to toji and he reached his hand out, his fingers grazing hers before he pulled her towards himself she stood just between his legs and y/n analyzed everything on his body. seeing and hearing him from behind a screen was one thing and actually experiencing those things in real life was another.

"what were some of the things you used to say?" he questioned, making her eyes dart to his. yeah she did say quiet a lot of things and felt no shame at all, but it was different in person.

toji’s smirk deepened as he leaned back, tilting his head slightly. "you remember, don’t you?" his voice was smooth, almost taunting. "what was it you typed that one time..." he paused, narrowing his eyes as if recalling something.

"'i bet your you'd sound even better in person.'"

y/n’s eyes widened in shock, her heart skipping a beat. she took a step closer despite her gowing embarrassment. her face was heating up as she shook her head. "oh, and then there was that other one..." his voice lowered to a near whisper, "‘i’d let you ruin me any day? was that it?’"

"toji, stop." y/n muttered, her face burning with embarrassment as she quickly stared anywhere but his eyes.

toji chuckled, clearly enjoying how flustered she was becoming. he reached out, his fingers lightly gripping her wrist as he pulled her closer, until she was standing right in front of him, pressed between his knees. "oh, don't get shy now, angel," he teased, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. "you said it, remember?"

his hand slid up her arm slowly, possessively, until it rested on her lower back, bringing he down to straddle his lap. he leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "all those nights, all those messages... and now here you are. in front of me."

y/n’s heart pounded in her chest, her pulse quickening at the heat radiating from him. she had fantasized about this for months, but nothing could’ve prepared her for how real it felt now, being in his presence, his grip firm but careful. she swallowed hard, her body responding to his closeness, to the way his voice seemed to vibrate through her entire being.

“i—” she tried to find her words, but they stuck in her throat. she had always felt so bold behind a screen, her messages flowing freely without the pressure of being seen. now, under his gaze, every word she had typed felt like it was coming back to haunt her, each one echoing in the space between them.

"you don’t have to say anything," toji murmured, his voice low and soothing, yet still carrying that edge of dominance she recognized so well. "i already know."

she leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "i remember everything, angel. everything you wanted to say, everything you wanted to do." he leaned back a little, his eyes locked on hers, watching the way she reacted to him. “i wonder if you're ready for it now. in person."

y/n’s breath hitched, her body instinctively leaning into him. it was almost impossible to resist the magnetic pull he had over her. all those nights she spent alone, listening to his voice, imagining what it would be like to touch him, to be touched by him—it was all unraveling in front of her now, every fantasy inching closer to reality.

"toji," she whispered, her voice shaky, as she finally met his gaze. her cheeks were burning, but there was a new flicker of something else in her chest—anticipation. "i could've never in a million years expect—"

"expect what?" he interrupted, his smirk widening as he brushed his thumb against her jaw, tilting her head slightly so she couldn’t look away. "to meet me? to have me here, with you?"

she bit the inside of her cheek, nodding slightly, the words caught in her throat again. "well, here i am," he said softly, his tone dropping even lower, making her skin tingle. "so now what, angel? are you going to make good on all those promises?"

his question lingered in the air between them, heavy with implication. her mind raced, every thought clouded by the closeness of his body, the heat of his touch. she could feel the tension between them rising, the space shrinking as she fought between her nerves and her desire.

"you talk a big game when there’s a screen between us," toji continued, his lips ghosting over hers as he spoke, their breaths mingling in the tight space. "but can you follow through when it’s real?"

y/n’s breath hitched again, but she didn’t pull away. instead, she leaned into him, her body responding instinctively to the pull of his presence. the tension between them snapped as he closed the distance completely, capturing her lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. it was everything she had imagined—his touch, his taste, the roughness of his hands as they slid down her sides, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

she let herself melt into him, her hands tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened, the world outside of them fading into a blur. for once, it wasn’t just a fantasy. this was real.

toji’s lips pressed firmly against y/n’s, his hands moving down her body with a deliberate slowness that made her shiver. the heat between them was palpable, the air thick with tension as she melted into his touch. he pulled her closer, his fingers grazing the hem of her shirt before slipping beneath the fabric, the warmth of his skin against hers sending a spark through her.

his lips trailed down her neck, leaving a burning path in their wake. y/n let out a soft gasp, her fingers curling into his hair as his hands moved lower, tugging at her waistband. her heart raced, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts as the anticipation built between them.

"any change in mind, angel?" toji whispered, his voice low and rough, making her shiver again. he paused, giving her a moment, his gaze searching hers for any sign of hesitation.

y/n shook her head, her fingers gripping his shoulders tightly as she pulled him closer. "just don't tease. you might actually kill me that way."

with a smirk and no verble reply, toji’s hands worked their way over her skin, his touch firm and confident. every movement was slow, deliberate, designed to drive her wild as he slowly peeled away her clothing, piece by piece. each brush of his fingertips left her skin tingling, her body arching towards him, craving more.

when there was nothing left between them, toji’s eyes roamed over her, dark with desire. he leaned in, pressing his lips to her collarbone, moving lower with every kiss. his hands were everywhere at once, mapping every inch of her body with a careful precision that made her let out a breathy sigh.

his movements were swift and deliberate, as though he knew every intricate detail of what he was doing—and he did. there was no hesitation, no uncertainty in the way his fingers moved, as though they had learned her body long before he even touched her.

y/n quickly discovered this for herself when his fingers slipped beneath the fabric of her panties, their touch sending sparks along her skin as they found their way to her entrance. her breath hitched, and a low, involuntary moan escaped her lips, her fingers instinctively tangling into his hair, pulling harder as the tension inside her built with each of his deft movements.

"look at how messy you already are," he murmured, his voice a low hum of satisfaction, his slick-coated fingers flexing against her. the words were playful, almost teasing, but there was an underlying intensity in his gaze that made her pulse quicken. "i don’t need that, toji," she protested, her voice thick with impatience as she ground herself against his hand, chasing more of the friction she craved. she knew, despite the taunt in his words, that toji wasn’t just someone who reveled in her desperation for the sake of it. he wasn’t cruel, even if he enjoyed watching her unravel. he wanted to prepare her, to make sure she was ready for what was to come.

"come for me once," he whispered, his voice a dangerous promise, "and i’ll give you everything you need. all the ways you want me."

there was no resisting him—not that she wanted to. y/n couldn’t even muster the energy to be upset by his teasing anymore. instead, she leaned down, letting her lips brush against the column of his neck, the salty taste of his skin grounding her as her body responded to his touch. toji’s fingers were skilled, relentless in the way they worked her, bringing every ounce of pleasure to the surface as though he had memorized the map of her body.

and for the next few minutes, the world seemed to narrow down to the sensation of him, the delicious friction as she ground down against him with as much pressure as she could manage, every movement pushing her closer to that first high she so desperately needed. it wasn’t long before her mind began to blur, her breathing shallow and erratic as the pleasure built to an unbearable intensity. toji noticed the shift in her, of course, and he couldn’t hide the amusement in his eyes as he watched her struggle to maintain control.

even as her body moved on its own, it wasn’t just the physical sensation driving her to the brink—it was his voice, smooth and unhurried, like silk, guiding her with an ease that sent shivers down her spine. the low timbre of his words seeped into her skin, wrapping around her like a vice as he spoke softly, describing all the ways he would push her higher, all the things he would do to her if she just let go.

it wasn’t like before, when they had been separated by nothing but screens and voices through a device. here, with him right in front of her, she could feel the full weight of his presence, and the sound of his voice alone was enough to make her stomach clench with anticipation, her body responding to him as though she had no control over it. his voice had always held power over her, but here, it was almost unbearable, the way it turned her insides molten and had her trembling just at the sound.

toji knew how much his voice affected her. the way her breath hitched every time he spoke, the slight tremor in her hands whenever he uttered something filthy—it was all intentional. he knew exactly what he was doing. he could see the evidence of his effect on her; the damp fabric of her panties clinging to her, soaked through with arousal. his erection strained against his pants, hard and throbbing, and with a low, satisfied groan, he used his free hand to release himself from the confines of his clothing, the cool air hitting his exposed skin, sending a shudder through him.

y/n’s eyes widened at the sight, a small whimper escaping her lips, her hand moving instinctively toward him. toji shook his head, his hand gently cupping her jaw as he tilted her face up to meet his gaze. "i told you," he said softly, his voice firm but affectionate, "you come for me first." there was no room for argument. his fingers shifted inside her, curling in just the right way to hit that sweet spot that made her vision blur at the edges. hope surged inside her as the tension coiled tighter in her core. if he kept going like this, she would fall apart in no time, and then, finally, she could have him the way she wanted.

his other hand wrapped around his length, fingers curling tightly around himself, not moving, just resting there, almost as if to taunt her with what she couldn’t yet have. her moans grew more frantic, the sound filling the room as her hips rolled instinctively against his hand, seeking release. but then, suddenly, he paused, stopping the delicious in-and-out movement of his fingers.

"you really gonna make me do all the work, angel?" he asked, his voice teasing, a brow arched in mock disbelief as he watched her with a smirk tugging at his lips. she let out a frustrated huff, her body betraying her as it took control, hips grinding down against his hand, desperate for friction. her moans became breathy, each sound a different pitch as he teased her, giving just enough to keep her on the edge but never enough to let her fall over.

the sight of her was intoxicating. her head tilted back, eyes closed, completely lost in the sensations he was drawing out of her. she wasn’t focused on anything but the feel of his fingers inside her, the occasional groan that escaped his lips, and, of course, the low, sinful murmur of his voice as he taunted her with every slow movement.

"come on," he whispered, his voice heavy with amusement. "you’re starting to make me feel sorry for you." his words sent a shiver through her, but before she could respond, her body betrayed her, coming to a halt as she panted, frustration etched into every line of her face.

"wear yourself out, angel?" toji asked, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "toji, please," she whimpered, her voice cracking with need. she had long since abandoned any sense of shame, her singular focus now on the release that seemed just out of reach. her body burned with the ache of denied pleasure, and she was willing to beg if that’s what it took. toji’s lips curved into a knowing smile, his eyes gleaming with something dark and dangerous.

"i guess you deserve some lighter treatment," he mused, his voice low and teasing, "considering you were my top donator and all."

her breath caught in her throat as his words sank in, her eyes widening slightly as he shifted her position, pulling her to lie down on the couch beneath him. his lips brushed against hers in a soft, lingering kiss, the taste of him sending a jolt of electricity through her veins. and then, finally, his fingers moved again, pushing deep inside her, filling her, the force behind each thrust just enough to drive her mad. his opposite hand rested firmly on her thigh, holding her legs apart, preventing her from wrapping them around his wrist as her body strained for more.

"relax for me, angel," he whispered, his voice a dark promise, "let yourself go. you know my fingers aren’t going to satisfy you, even after you come."

those words alone, combined with the commanding tone of his voice, were enough to send her spiraling. her walls clenched around his fingers as she fell apart, a loud moan tearing from her throat as her entire body trembled with the force of her release. but toji didn’t stop, his fingers continuing their relentless rhythm, dragging every ounce of pleasure from her body as he watched her unravel beneath him.

tears welled up in her eyes, her chest heaving with ragged breaths as her climax ripped through her. and the moment he finally pulled his fingers free, her body went limp, exhaustion settling into her bones. but even as she panted heavily, her body still recovering from the high, her hand reached out, desperate to wrap around toji’s length that still stood at full attention, throbbing and aching for release.

"that's what you're really after, huh, angel?"

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[fanfixforfanfics]

Late Night Picture Show - Lux Imperator|Mr. Ring-A-Ding x Reader

oh my god i haven't written much less been close to finishing something in years i've been possessed by this FREAK. it hasn't even been 24 hrs since i started on it. i wasn't planning on this getting sexual but uh. yknow. just felt like i should keep going. so i figured i'd post the first half since it's all i originally INTENDED to write. dear god put me down like a lame horse

chap 1 is sfw, chap 2 will be explicit

It’s been a few months since, you met your… acquaintance, Mr. Ring-A-Ding. You say acquaintance, because you don’t really know your standing. You met him while working on a project to rebuild an old theater in town, and the little freak has been bugging you since. You caught on to the “I’m just a little guy” act within a month, but you’re still not completely sure what his deal is. You’re careful, but try not to let him yank you around either.

Words: 2,357

chapter 2 -> (coming soon!)

It’s been a few months since, you met your… acquaintance, Mr. Ring-A-Ding. You say acquaintance, because you don’t really know your standing. You met him while working on a project to rebuild an old theater in town, and the little freak has been bugging you since. You caught on to the “I’m just a little guy” act within a month, but you’re still not completely sure what his deal is. You’re careful, but try not to let him yank you around either.

You’re taking a small break from taking inventory on the recovered films in the projector room, just sketching whatever takes your fancy, when he pops his eyes over the desk. You pretend not to notice, just keep drawing. His little fingers pop up next, wiggling with an accompanying sound effect, before placing the pads of his fingers on the notebook with clear intent to swipe it. You put your arm on it as you lean over the desk to eye him down like a naughty cat.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, sir?” His shit-eating grin, previously hidden by the desk, is now on full display as he rises.

“Just checking in on my old pal! You don’t seem like you’re too busy for me right now, you know, your favorite excuse.” You draw in a breath through your nose, and sigh.

“Not busy at the moment, I guess.” You sit up and remove your arm, about to shut the notebook, when he stops you. “No, wait, I wanna see!”

You give him a tired smile. You can humor him-- this notebook is for work, so there isn’t much he could tease you for in there. Just doodles between the notes you take about the theater. You shut it, and hand him the book. His grin widens, and he snatches it with a ‘yoink!’

He begins thumbing through greedily, but he slows down as his face falls. He looks at you with his big wet eyes.

“These are nice, but… not a single one of me? I thought we were friends?” You giggle, and feel vindicated in your choice to only draw him in the peace of your home. Some of the art you’ve done would surely become ammo against you in his hands.

“I mean, do you see anyone else in there either?” He flicks to a page and shoves it in your face.

“You drew Kevin before me? You hate that guy!” You throw your head back and cackle when faced with the doodle of a man in a hard hat with an anguished face shouting “If only this could have been prevented!” as he lies prone on the ground.

“That was the day he fell in that hole I told him not to walk over, fuckin’ idiot.”

Mr. Ring-A-Ding tuts, waggling his finger and scolding you for language. “Still… not a single little scribble for little old me?” He pouts and lets one little crocodile tear dangle from the corner of his eye.

“You want one that bad, Ring?” He nods, slow and sad, before batting his eyelashes with a little 'plink plink!' He hands over your notebook.

“Make sure you get my good side!”

“You’ve only got two of ‘em, Ring.”

“But they’re both good?” “’Course, handsome little devil, aren’tcha?”

He grins and straightens his lapels before adding, “And humble to boot!”

It doesn’t take long, you had admittedly gotten quite good at drawing him in your spare time. Not that you’ll tell him that. It’s just him grinning and winking, but he lets out a whistle as he appraises it.

“Now this… this is art!” His hat falls forward as he looks down at it, and without thinking, you push it back into place for him. His pupils flicker yellow for a split second as he looks up at you. “Oh! Uh, thanks for that.” You grimace, feeling bad for touching him without permission.

“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

He waves away your concerns. “I don’t mind! You caught me off guard, warn a guy first.” “Yeah. Forgot about the touching thing.” “Touching thing? I don’t have a thing .” He pouts, indignant.

“You totally have a touching thing. You get this look in your eye like you’re gonna bite my hand off if I touch you.”

He squints. “I think you’re making assumptions, and you know what what they say about that. But I don’t have to assume anything to say you drew that pretty quickly.” His smile widens, lids lower and eyebrows raise.

You do your best to remain neutral. “Yeah, that’s not an assumption, but an insinuation. Very astute!”

He scowls, and lifts himself up on the desk to be eye level as he leans forward, pointing a blue finger right in your face. “You did that like you’ve done it a hundred times before. I’ve got your number, babe , don’t I?”

You feel heat in your cheeks, but bite your lips to keep them in a flat line. You go to move his hand from your face gently as a you start with a soft, “Ring,” but he cuts you off.

“I think you like me a lot more than you let on.”

God, you didn’t want him to know anything about this. Sure, you’ve got a crush on him. So what? You weren’t going to let him know, because you knew it’d lead to this. Teasing. Being made fun of. That’s the sort of thing that happens when you open up . Your cheeks burn, and you feel your eyes start to water . You can’t look at him, not right now.

You train your eyes on your lap as you gently move his hand away. “Ring, I… I gotta get back to work. You can keep the drawing.” You tear it out of your notebook and leave it on the desk, and leave the room.

H e leaves you be for the rest of your shift, to your surprise. No making faces in the projector window, no trying to convince your coworkers there’s a ghost by turning things on or off… nothing. You hate to admit you miss it. You watch the last of your coworkers leave, then sigh in relief. They know you’re always last to leave, even if they don’t know why. You’ll take the undue credit of being a diligent worker any day, though.

The sun has been down for a long while, now. You make your way back up to the projector room, at least wanting to give Mr. Ring-A-Ding a proper farewell before you leave. You’re just a bit… worried.

As you walk in, you see he’s waiting for you already. He waves meekly, rather unusual. You smile softly, and give him a little wave back.

“Work over already, huh?”

“Yeah,” you rub the back of your neck. “And it’s Friday, so y’know… I’ll uh, see you Monday.”

He grimaces, and rubs his knuckles nervously. You murmur a little “bye” before he puts a hand out, asking you to wait. You turn to him, obliging his request. He plays with his collar, tugging on it comically before speaking. “Was just thinking, you need to watch over the old reels to see which ones still work, yeah? Thought maybe you could squeeze in one before you went home?”

You smile, before deciding to tease him a bit. “Man, I dunno Ring, I’m real busy. This weekend I was planning on narrowing down my list of countless suitors, visiting one of my several luxurious vacation homes, and hanging out with my closest hundred or so friends. Y’know, weekend plans. Just so busy.”

He rolls his eyes, then twirls what’s left of his hair, letting out a very convincing, “Ahaha, you’re sooo funny.” He walks over to the second-hand love seat that had recently been brought in to use the projector room as a break room of sorts, but you were really the only one who used it. He sits down, then pats the seat beside him. “I already loaded in the reel, you just gotta start it, sunshine.”

He’s acting like himself again, good. You start the reel, before taking the seat beside him, leaning on the arm.

You expect some old shit you’ve never seen before that you’ll mostly make fun of, but it seems familiar…

“Dude. Did you really put on Singing in the Rain?”

He shrugs and grins. “C’mon, it’s a classic! An old favorite of mine!”

“Sorry, I forget you’re like, a million years old.”

“You don’t know the half of it!”

You watch the movie quietly, listening as he tells you trivia. Within fifteen minutes, you notice he’s been trying to inconspicuously get closer to you, your knees now touching. 30 minutes in, his cartoony thighs are pressed against the side of yours. He tries to play off an exaggerated yawn as he rests his arm behind your shoulder. Goober. You side eye him, vaguely amused.

“See? I don’t have a “touching thing.”

You raise your eyebrows, not believing him. “This is you touching me, not me touching you. That’s different.”

He takes the challenge. “Oh yeah? Then do it. Touch me.” He grins at you like you’re too chicken, the little fucker.

“You got it, boss.” You reach under the arm behind you, and pull him so that he’s sitting hip to hip with you. You feel him tense as you do it, and feel him try his best to relax. You don’t hold him there, immediately giving him the option to scoot away. He doesn’t though. He does wiggle a little, before resting his head on your shoulder. “Comfy?”

He nods into your shoulder, and looks up at you. There’s that flicker of yellow again. You sigh. “Ring, you don’t have to do this to prove a point or something. I just want you to be comfortable.”

“I don’t have anything to prove.” He looks back at the movie, but you keep watching him as he takes the hand that pulled him closer, gently resting his hand on top. There’s just a hint of blush on his cheeks. Was he… genuinely enjoying this?

Slowly, you turn over your hand, splaying your fingers in a silent offering. He takes it, twining his fingers with your own. There’s this sort of… buzz to the way he feels, the same kind of warm hum that comes from something like a light bulb. Slowly, you lean your head closer to him, the side of your cheek nearly touching the top of his head. He scoots into the touch, and sighs contentedly. You give his hand a little squeeze. This is nice.

A little too nice, apparently, because you’re woken up as he snaps, calling his ladies to turn off the projector.

“Oh, it’s over?”

He leans against you a little more firmly. Carefully, you hold him a bit closer. He looks up at you a little too innocently and asks, “Do you have to leave yet?”

You groan a bit as you reach for your phone to check the time. It’s nearly eleven. You look back at him as he bats his eyelashes. Damn him.

“I can stay a little longer. Should wake up a little more before I try to get home, I guess.” He grins triumphantly, and you ruffle his hair a little bit. “You’re so silly.”

He swats your hand away playfully, and you let it fall back to his side. He snuggles up closer to you. He’s been awfully quiet…

“So…”

“So?” You look down at him, waiting for him to continue.

“Was thinking about helping you narrow down that list you mentioned earlier.”

“Oh? Checking the films?”

“Huh? No, no, your uh, countless suitors?”

You stifle a laugh. “Oh yes, how could I forget. Always vying for my attention and what have you.” You turn your body toward him, and gently cup his cheek. He jumps just a little, that little yellow flicker. You move to take your hand back, but he catches it in presses it closer to his face. He looks you in the eye, pupils still holding that light glow, and it brightens, almost shimmering as he presses a reverent kiss to your palm.

Oh.

You stroke his cheek with your thumb, and he nuzzles your hand. You pull your hand back for just a second to get leverage as you lean back on the arm of the love seat, before pulling your legs up, inviting him to sit in your lap. He wastes no time in straddling your hips, and nuzzles into your neck. He pulls back up, lidded eyes, and return of the shit-eating grin.

“I knew you liked me.”

You shrug, letting one hand sit on his hip, the other against his cheek. “Maybe. You like me?”

“Puh-lease. You’re the only reason I haven’t chased all of those clowns out of the theater. Or worse.”

“What? You like being the only clown?” He turns his nose up in defiance, but take away all of his bravado as you squeeze it and it very much makes a little honk noise. He hides his face in the crook of your neck. You press a kiss between his antenna, they tickle your face as they curl up. “I’m sorry for freaking out earlier. I just… I didn’t think this would happen. Thought you were making fun of me.”

“Don’t mention it.” You pet his head, fingers playing in his hair idly.

“Ring, I, uh… Is it okay if I kiss you?”

H e looks up at you with eyes widen immediately, and you swore hearts were in his pupils for just a fraction of a second before he nods. Your eyes flutter shut, and before you can press your lips to his, he’s pulling you in by your shirt. Your face is held in his hands now, he kisses you softly, every movement intentional. He’s leaning into it, trying to get closer, arms circled around your neck, the back of your head cradled by him. You kiss him back, caressing his face and holding him closer your body. You find yourself unable to keep from smiling.

[iwantmyprizepet]

𝒱𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓈𝒽 ℐ𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝒴𝑜𝓊 - 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 3/?

Summary: Agatha was becoming a problem. A big all encompassing gorgeous problem. (I fucking hate writing these)

Warnings: Alcohol Consumption.

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: I meant for this to come out so much sooner than this. Life has been a thorn in the side the past couple of weeks, but hopefully back to regular posting. I hope someone out there is still interested in my silly little story. To any who see this I hope you’re doing well. - Mich :)

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Monday creeped along in a dragging way. I busied myself for a while with tedious tasks. Cleaning the house, grocery shopping and any other boring chore I could come up with. All to divert my mind from her. 

That damn note in my desk pulled me to the drawer like a tide over and over. 

Night finally drew in and I ran a bath.

I released a long sigh slipping into the warm water with a healthy helping of red wine. Each sip of my glass seemed to press her into my mind more and more. 

I didn’t stay in long. 

I climbed into bed after the bath. It was only eight o’clock, but all I could think about was getting to see her. A mix of excitement and guilt. 

It felt wrong thinking about her this much, almost intrusive. A hint of doubt ebbed it’s way in, maybe I wouldn’t even see her tomorrow. 

Sleep was a tossing endless thing. I ended up in the cafe far earlier than I had in a while. Just sitting, sipping a coffee and waiting in the dark early morning.

The pastry delivery came and I placed every last sweet meticulously. Perfectly lined up ready for a picture in a magazine. 

It was a relief turning the open sign on. Chloe and Janice were a well needed distraction along with the customers. The day creeped into a slow Tuesday.  Thanksgiving was this Thursday, so it wasn’t surprising how dreadful the day was. It was either dead or insane on the week of a holiday.

When two thirty rolled around I let Janice and Chloe leave. If a straggler or two came in the last hour and a half, I could handle it. 

With a smirking remark from Chloe as she walked out hoping I’d see Agatha today, I was left to my thoughts again. 

At this point of the day, I’d pretty much given up hope on seeing her.

I’d just finished organizing the stock room. The plan was to organize and take inventory, but…I got lazy. I ran out of the brains for it at this point of the day. With less than an hour to go, it could wait until tomorrow. I felt bogged down and I knew I’d fuck something up if I did it now.

Walking back to the front I hummed along to the Jim Croce song quietly playing through the speakers. I looked up and my shoes squeaked loudly to a stop.  

There at the counter waiting with a smile stood Agatha. 

My face felt hot having got caught carelessly humming along. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how I missed the bell.” I jumbled out stepping closer to her. “Hi.”

Her smile grew before she spoke. “I don’t believe it made a sound actually.” Both of our eyes traveled to the bell above the door, then she looked back to me. “I figure I’d let you finish your song before I bothered you.” 

She finished her remark with a teasing wink. I forced a laugh and walked fully to the counter. 

The two feet of the counter, the only thing separating us. Another sweeping glance to the door shown the bell was stuck at the top again. I made a mental note to fix it later.

“The usual.” She said eyes observing me widely. “For here.”

I nodded waiting for my brain to catch up with my mouth. My heart ticked up when she said it was for here.

“Of course, have a seat I’ll bring it to you.”

She turned with a nod and seemed to observe the layout. As if choosing her seat was a very important decision. 

Turning my back to her, I grabbed a green mug with our logo on it. I poured her black coffee and turned to find her in the farthest corner. Her gaze cast out the window to her left, chin resting on her hand. I tried to ignore that she chose the farthest seat. Ignored the part of me that wished she would have sat right at the counter. 

Walking over quietly, I watched as her left leg crossed over the right bobbing slowly. I could have stopped and stared at her for a long while. Her head shifted to me, still smiling with her chin on her hand. Every time she looked at me, a rush zipped through me.

I placed the mug in front of her, careful not to spill under her fixed gaze. 

“Thank you.” It rolled off of her tongue so gently. “Of course.” I replied almost breathless.

Every second near her left me feeling more and more screwed. I started back to the counter when her easy voice stopped me.

“Busy?”

I glanced back to her waiting expectantly.

With a laugh I turned back. “It’s been dreadfully slow today actually.”

With almost no hesitation she asked. “Care to sit with me?” 

She almost left an ounce of nervousness at the end of the question. Like maybe she thought I’d somehow deny the request.

If it was there, it disappeared before I could fully place it. Replaced by the familiar confidence she oozed. 

Nodding, I moved back over and sat across from her at the two seat diner table.

Smiling she took a sip of her coffee, bringing it up to her mouth carefully with both hands. I had to remind myself it wasn’t normal to stare at a persons hands for that long. 

Her coat was draped over the back of the chair now. She wore a purple turtleneck, sleeves pushed halfway up her forearms. Setting her mug down, she brushed the left side of her hair behind her shoulder. Her perfume settled over to me in gust from the air it created. 

I let myself lean back fully in the chair, legs stretching out to the side of the table. A tired I hadn’t even recognized began to blanket over me.

 Despite it being slow, I was like a constant motion all day. I couldn’t relax for a second. Not to mention the lack of sleep I had last night. Thanks to the woman sat directly across from me now. 

“Did you get my note?” She asked taking another sip.

“Yes.” A bashfulness washed over me. Clearing my throat I continued. “Of all times to have milk spilled on me.”

I rolled my eyes trying to stay calm. Realizing the sentence I just said snuck the truth to her. I was disappointed in the timing. 

“Is that an often occurrence for you?” She asked teasingly over her mug.

I laughed eyes closed tilting my head back. “Fortunately no.” I looked back to her, eyelids feeling heavy from the day.

An easy pause hung between us as a mellow song played over the room.

“I see you’ll be closed a couple of days for the holiday?” Agatha asked breaking the quiet.

I’d put a sign up Monday announcing our Thanksgiving week schedule.

I nodded “Yeah, I’ll be with my parents, Chloe the same and Janice hosts her family. Anne and I, the owner figure everyone will survive two days without us.”

“Debatable.” She answered quickly. 

My mouth minutely hung open at her words, breath catching. 

“The coffee that is.” She continued a pinching smirk on her face as she held up her mug. “It’s unmatched.”

I nodded after a few seconds, eyes locked with hers. Stupid, crooked and dazed smile on the corner of my mouth. 

The door slamming open startled the both of us with a jump. The force of it knocked the bell back down.

Dennis.

“Now, I know you’ll be closing soon, but this car out front has been parked incorrectly for far too long.” Dennis wagged his finger approaching me as I stood.

“Dennis, what are you on about?” I asked the exhaustion evident with my words as I stood.

“This black car out front is parked against the flow of traffic. It is not only against the law, but very dangerous. I’ve held my tongue long enough. It needs to be moved.” He finished his annoyingly punctual statement with both hands on his hips. 

I let out a sigh with closed eyes pinching the bridge of my nose, my other hand on my own hip. I had a suspicion the car he was referring to was in fact Agatha’s. 

“You have to be kidding me. Dennis it’s almost the end of the day, the week of a holiday. She’s been here for ten minutes. Are you really coming to cause a stir over this?” I asked with a clear annoyance.

“The law is the law, whether you like it or not. As the head of the town hall committee, I must see the law is being met.” He lashed out smug with his chest puffed out. 

With a sharp scrape of her metal chair leg against the floor, Agatha stood turning to Dennis. Casual confidence poured out, hands in her pants pockets relaxed with a calm irritation on her face. 

“Dennis was it?” She asked with a low sharpness, similar to the phone call the day I met her. “Agatha Harkness. I don’t believe we’ve officially met before.”

Harkness. Agatha Harkness.

His jaw dropped “Oh, Miss Harkness I didn’t realize.”

Dennis proceeded to stare at her speechless. Something I have never seen in all the years of knowing him. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her as she fixed on him with a casual distaste.

“Now, I can understand your urge to adhere to the law. Not that I’m sure how it would effect you if I received a ticket for my incorrect parking.” Taking a breath she stepped closer causing him to backup. “So, while I understand my parking is a minor problem. I’m not sure what has driven you to barge in here and treat her the way you just have over such a silly thing that she is certainly not to blame for.”

She stopped, holding a silence for him to respond. Dennis just stood staring at her speechless going red in the face. The words came out of her with such a direct ease. Like it was a practiced speech. 

She made a humming noise and continued amongst his silence. “I’ll go ahead and make sure I park correctly form now on, as long as you carry around a little more respect.” 

It wasn’t a question. It was a command. His still lack of response earned an expecting sharp head tilt from her.

“Yes, well of course. Ladies, enjoy your evening.” Dennis blurted out quickly turning on his heel to leave. 

My eyes couldn’t hold back tracing her stance. She turned to me suddenly and my eyes shot to hers trying to hide the traveling they were up to. Her face had changed to a soft smile for me, a hint of pride behind it.

“I’ve never, and I mean never have I seen anyone put that man in his place.” I said with a disbelieving laugh. 

She shrugged smirking and stepping closer to me. “I made a rather large donation to the committee last year. I assumed he’d recognize the name.” Confidence was still dripping off of her. 

I wanted to reach out and touch her in the most innocent way. Hold my hand over hers, just to see what it felt like. Walk her out to her car arm in hers. Reach in for a hug. 

Her full name passed my thoughts again as I took her in. Agatha Harkness. Clearing my throat I looked down breaking my eyes from hers.

“Well, thank you.” I looked back up as she stepped just an inch closer. “I’d already had to deal with his nonsense on Sunday. I appreciate him being cut short today.” 

“Anytime, you just let me know.” 

A buzzing against the table earned attention from both of us. Agatha’s phone lay lit up with a call. 

Adam Pontes shown on the screen against a plain black background. Her long fingers reached for the phone pressing accept. My brain absorbed her ringless finger. Not that it mattered.

“Hey, Adam. Yes.” She looked to me with a smile. Her right hand still in her pocket. “Listen, Adam.” Her face fell, eyebrows pinching into an anger. “I told him there was no way that was going to happen.” 

Agatha turned away from me now facing the table. Feeling intrusive I turned myself and started to stack the chairs on the nearest table. 

It was only ten minutes to four now. 

“Adam, I will call you back in five minutes. We’ll call him together and figure it out. Okay. Yes. Bye.”

I busied myself still with the chairs after she hung up.

“Sorry about that.” I turned back to her as she spoke, annoyance still tinging her words. “My assistant, Adam seems to always find a way to bother me at the most unnecessary times for the most unnecessary things.” Each word emphasized with a hand twitch or wave.

I felt myself relax a tension I didn’t realizing I was holding at the word assistant.

“No worries.” I replied easily stepping back over to her.

She lent over to the chair she was sat at to grab her coat. A warm wave of her scent pushed towards me wrapping me up again as she pulled it on with a tug. 

My right foot crept forward just an inch. Images of slipping my arms under the coat, around her waist and pulling her in for a hug swept through my mind. 

After her hands reached up to untuck her hair from the coat, she leant over for her purse. 

“The coffee is on the house today, please.” It rushed out of my mouth almost begging with my hands held up.

She turned to me grinning then let out a loud laugh. My eyes lit up at the sight tugging out a smile and laugh of my own. 

She slipped her purse on up to her shoulder fixing me a troubling gaze. Troubling as in I couldn’t read all that was behind it. All I know is it felt like she could see into my every thought, smirking as she did.

“I’ll be sure to stop in tomorrow.” Her head turned to the coffee then back to me. “Get one last fix before the holiday.”

My lungs felt full with stuck air. “Okay.” It was a pathetic small response from me. I couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

Her head dipped down with a smile, hand reaching up to tuck the hair that fell behind her ear.

“I hope you have a nice night.” Agatha looked up to me as she slowly started to back up towards the door.

“You too. Good luck with Adam.” I responded knowing it sounded stupid as it came out of my mouth. 

I was desperate to continue our exchange. Grasping for anything to say to get just a second longer with her.

Another laugh sounded from her. “Oh I don’t need luck for that. Maybe an aspirin.” 

I laughed now too, unconsciously following her to the door. It felt impossible not to laugh along with her.

She paused with her shoulder pressed to the glass door, hand laying gently on the handle captivating me as it did.

“See you tomorrow?” It came from her like a question.

As if I’d be doing anything but pacing and waiting for her arrival tomorrow.

“I’ll be here.” I replied tucking my hands into my jeans pockets. 

“Good.” 

“Safe travels home.” Again, the words left my mouth leaving me feeling foolish.

Assuming she was even heading home. I shook my head minutely scolding myself for how stupid it sounded.

“You too.” She replied a smirking glint in her eye. 

I laughed nodding my head. “Yeah, it’s quite the trek.” 

Another soft humming noise sounded from her as she eyed me. 

“Goodnight.” She pushed open the door as she said it. 

The cold air rushed in as if just to blow her perfume to me one last time. 

“Night.”

“Oh.” She paused turning back. “Don’t be too cross with the tip jar.” 

With a wink she left, wind shutting the door harshly behind her. It took a minute for my brain to catch up with her words. When it did, I quickly shot my eyes back to the tip jar. 

I’m not sure how I missed it before, she was the only customer after Chloe and Janice left. We split the jar right before they did.

There in the jar that should have been empty, lay a neatly folded fifty. As if she prepared for me protesting her paying for the coffee. Expected it and slipped it in as I stood distracted in the storage room. 

My head flung to her car just catching her head turning away from me. She pulled away and I stared after her shrinking tail lights. 

Tomorrow I would make sure she wouldn’t pay. I simply wouldn’t allow it.

After finishing the closing ritual, I slumped up the stairs. 

I replayed every second with her throughout the night. A special focus lingered on her full name.

Sleep came easier tonight, but still Agatha Harkness remained the last thought on my mind. 

——————————————————————————

A call from my mom and dad passed the morning easily until open. Confirming what we were making for tomorrow and what time I’d get there. 

I hadn’t seen them in over a month. After the first cold snap they flew off to Florida. I’d missed them more than I realized.

It was always nice when they’d first leave for their Florida condo. The distance between my mom’s worrying intensity about my life always did me some good.

When I first came out to them, things were rocky for a bit. My dad took it easily. My mom on the other hand took time. She hadn’t flat out cut me off. It was just constantly tense when we’d talk or see each other. My dad consistently assured me she didn’t hate me, but it was hard.

After finding my ex under that douche bag, I drove home instantly. I barely choked out the reason for my tears when I got home. It changed instantly then, she held me for hours.

There was never a problem with my sexuality after that. She’d actually ended a few friendships over it. 

My mom just had this way of being in a constant state of concern for me. Worried I’d be single forever. Worried that I was too lonely and never put myself out there. She meant well, but….yeah.

——————————————————————————

The day started swinging, a constant flow of customers coming in. 

During a lull, I found Chloe eyeing me expectantly. I knew it would come up at some point. She had rolled in late today and couldn’t bother me until now.

“So.” She dragged out arms crossed. “Did you see her yesterday?”

I nodded, trying but failing to hide a smile. 

“Janice, we’ve got a blusher!” Chloe called out through the window. 

I threw the nearest towel at her hushing her. Her announcement earned a few questioning looks. I shook my head as they both laughed.

“Well?” Chloe asked clearly expecting details.

“Well, nothing.” I started tapping my pointer finger repeatedly on the counter. “She stopped in, we sat and talked for a bit that’s it.”

Rolling her eyes she scoffed. “That’s all I get? I’m your best friend and thats all I get?” 

I laughed “Actually, she did scold Dennis.” I laughed again at the memory. “No, she actually fully put him in is his place.”

Chloe made an oohing sound. “Do tell.” 

“He came in yelling about someone being parked against the flow of traffic, against the law blah blah, head of the town committee blah blah. Well the parked car was hers, she stood up and greeted him with her full name, dude, his face dropped.” I laughed remembering it, Chloe’s face shifted to shocked amusement. “Turns out she wrote a hefty donation check to the committee last year. Needless to say, he left fumbling and red in the face. It was a sight to behold.”

“I would actually give anything to have been a fly on the wall for that.” Chloe said through a laugh.

“Me as well.” Janice sounded through the window. “That man sends an anger through me.”

She held up her first at the end, all three of us erupting in laughter.

——————————————————————————

Business slowed gradually again today. You could hear a pin drop on the street. Sally even popped in complaining about how bored she was. 

The only movement of the afternoon was the boats docking across the street. I felt an eager excitement shoot through me every time Agatha crossed my mind.

“You guys can head out early again. Seems like it’ll be another dull afternoon.” I said to Janice and Chloe. 

The three of us had been sat at a table for the past hour with but one customer. Still, I tried to sound as casual about dismissing them as possible. Leaning back with my arms crossed totally nonchalant.

“She’s just trying to get rid of us before Agatha shows up.” Chloe teased wiggling her eyebrows at me. 

“Yes, I think so.” Janice replied nodding with an annoying smirk on her face.

Rolling my eyes I nudged my foot into Chloe’s leg. “Shut it and take my generosity.”

To be fair, she wasn’t incorrect. If Agatha did show up, I certainly would rather it be without the troublesome two around. 

“I have so much to cook.” Janice said standing up. “Gladly, I will leave.”

“Hey, you have a great Thanksgiving. Your check is on the board in the back.” I said leaning back watching her head to the kitchen.

“You too, I will see you both Saturday.” With a wave she pushed through the kitchen door.

Chloe called out a goodbye as well as she groaned standing up. “I still have to go to the damn store.” 

I laughed shaking my head at her. “Same, I only have a few things to grab but I am dreading it.”

“Do we hate ourselves? Why do we wait?” Chloe asked throwing her head back dramatically.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Alright, well” She scooted her chair in walking towards the back. “I hope your dear Agatha doesn’t keep you waiting for too long.” I sighed shaking my head. “Get out of here would ya?” 

Chloe laughed walking through the push door. 

“Tell your parents I said hi. Have a good Thanksgiving grumpy.” She yelled out from the back. 

“You too. Let me know how crazy the store is.” I called back.

With a final agreement and goodbye, Chloe was gone. 

So there I found myself close to an hour before closing again, waiting for the blue eyed beauty to grace me with her presence. 

I groaned getting up, the inventory list still awaited me. With a quick check of the front door, to make sure the bell was ringing loudly today, I walked into the storage room. 

The list went by quicker than usual. I usually tried to squeeze it in throughout a work day. I was just finishing with the last thing, our decaf coffee when the bell rung out.

“Just a second.” I called from the back. 

“Take your time.” Agatha’s now familiar voice sounded.

With the final count, I took a shaky breath and headed out front. 

She stood, eyes trained to where my voice came from waiting. Hands that always seemed to be flitting about resting on the counter.

“Hi.” I said softly placing the clipboard on the back counter. 

“Hello.” 

The usual waviness of her hair hung straight today, sleek and shiny. My mind instantly sunk into thoughts about what it would be like to run my hands through it. 

“For here.” She said smiling and sitting on a stool at the counter. “Add a sugar to it today, I’m feeling wild.”

I laughed nodding my head. Turning, I grabbed a mug then quickly shot my eyes back over to her. She was waiting and watching stopping me in my tracks for a second. The idea of her watching as I poured her coffee held a weight on me. 

“No money today.” I rushed out forcefully.

Her smile grew, blue eyes glinting with a mischief. 

“I’m serious.” I said turning back to her coffee. I tried to hold as stern a tone as I could. “If I find even a quarter in that jar, or anywhere for that matter from you I’ll.” I paused mid pour trying to think of something good, shaking my head I continued. “Well I’m not sure what I’ll do, but it’ll be well…I don’t know.” 

Every word had me internally face palming. I felt exasperated by the end of my spiel. A running theme whenever I found myself in her presence. 

After stirring the sugar in I turned back to her. She seemed to be holding in a laugh watching me. The corner of her bottom lip lay tucked under her top teeth. I moved my eyes away from it as quickly as possible, hoping she didn’t notice. 

“Seriously this ones on me, please.” The end of it felt like begging.

Her lip popped out from her teeth, lips forming into a purse with those blue eyes squinting. 

“As tempting as it is to see what you’d come up with if I did.” She let it linger in the air before finishing. “I promise, no money today.”

I swallowed hard at her words. It felt like a battle in my head fighting off thoughts of what I could do to her in retaliation. Things that seem much too much for acquaintances over coffee. I felt a slight fear layered over me as she watched me. Her eyes felt as if they’d be able to read my mind. The thought of it sent a chill up my spine. 

“Join me?” She asked, her hand tapping the stool next to her as she took a sip of coffee.

I nodded with a hesitation, my feet seemed to move on their own rounding the counter. She turned then, back against the counter eyes roaming out the front windows.

I sat slowly next to her thoroughly ignoring the little space between us. 

“This view really is something.” She said after a comfortable moment of silence.

“Yeah, I’ve never found myself tiring of it.” I admitted looking on with her.

Golden hour had just begun to dust over the water. The perfect time of day to look out here, apart from sunrise and nights that held a full moon. 

“I bet it’s even better from your apartment.” She cast it into the air around us with ease.

I felt my throat dry at her words. The idea of her in my apartment watching the sunset. Her in my apartment watching the sunrise.

“The roof.” I blurted out too loudly. My cheeks warmed as she looked at me with that damn smirk. “The roof is the best.” I said turning away from her willing my face to cool. “I find myself up there all the time in the summer.”

I could still feel her looking at me. I chanced a side glance that made my heart flutter with how I found her. My leg started bouncing on the stool leg nervously.

“Well, hopefully I’ll get an invite some day.” She said in a playful way after a sip of her coffee.

I turned to her again with a nod. “Absolutely.” 

A charged silence fell over us. Charged for me, maybe just casual for her.

 “Exceptional parking today.” I joked gesturing to her car out front. Anything to move on and pull myself from the spiral of thinking about her in my apartment.

She laughed tilting her head back, her neck flexing in the fading sun. “Well, I am exceptional.” She replied with that dripping confidence. 

I thought to myself, staring at her with a dumbfounded smile, yes you are.

Her eyes settled on mine and I felt like I was drowning.

Loud laughter outside broke our eyes apart. Two local boys, Teddy and Ben came into view through the window. The two of them parked their bikes on the curb. 

Every week or two, they’d show up with an assortment of coins and small bills looking for sweets.

I leaned my elbow back on the counter as they walked in. They both collected their laughter after walking in, throwing out a greeting in unison.

“Hello boys.” I smiled to them. “The usuals?”

Teddy was obsessed with danish, any danish really. Ben, I think he would sell his soul for snickerdoodle cookies.

Teddy was already fumbling coins in his jacket pocket as Ben clung to a few bills in his hand.

“We gotta count first.” Ben replied walking over to the register next to Agatha.

“I’ll tell you what.” I said rising from my seat walking back behind the counter. “You guys keep your money for something else. It’s on the house today.” 

I knew we’d never sell all these pastries today. I’d bring most to Thanksgiving tomorrow, but even then some would go to waste.

“Teddy, don’t I always says she’s the best?” Ben asked, schmoozing as if I hadn’t already offered up the pastries. 

I snorted out a laugh shaking my head. 

“Alright, take it easy kid.” I said playfully folding a small pastry box together.

I made sure to put several of their favorites in the box, along with a few other things. I felt Agatha eyeing me as I did so. The two boys stood joking amongst themselves.

“There you go guys.” I said closing the box and sliding it over. I glanced at Agatha. Her eyes were on me, expression soft. “Don’t forget to share with your family. Have a good Thanksgiving.” 

“Thank you.” Teddy said quietly. 

He was always the bashful one. Ben held enough exuberance for the both of them.

“The best I say.” Ben shouted grabbing the box and running out.

Teddy followed stumbling calling for Ben to wait. 

I chuckled at the two and closed the case. Leaning my elbows across the counter, I rested my chin in my hands.

Agatha shot me with a playful look.

“To think, the amount of times I’ve been in and I haven’t been offered a sweet treat yet.” She said holding her hand to her chest, mockingly appalled with a gasp.

I laughed standing up straight. Sliding the case back open I looked to her.

“Well, they do have you beat in visits” I teased looking up at her. “But…come and help yourself. You can have anything you want.” A curious hum sounded from her throat before she stood, making her way back. Her right hand dragged its way down the counter the whole way, fingers tapping a rhythm.

I felt my breathing take on an unsteadiness as she crept closer. I inched to the side a little farther leaning on the counter, out of the way of the pastry case door. 

When she finally approached me, she stood so close I could feel the warmth radiating off of her. Her hand leaned on the counter just shy of my arm. I could feel the ghost of her whole right side on my back and down my arm. 

“Decisions, decisions.” She said low and slow, close enough to my ear that I just barely felt a trace of it. 

My body wanted to lean back into her with the force of a tidal wave. It was almost draining fighting the urge. All I could do was stand still and focus on my choppy breaths.

“What do you recommend?” She questioned in a near whisper.

She seemed closer than she was just a second ago.

“Uhm.” I cleared my throat. “I’m partial to the…dark chocolate cookies.” 

It amazed me that I got the sentence out. The warmth and scent coming off her felt dizzying. I could feel her eyes on me, but refused to look back. 

It felt like an eternity passed after I spoke. I feared she’d hear my heart racing over the music softly playing. 

Her hand stayed on the counter as she leaned forward. Pressing into my back, her hand touching the bare skin of my arm. I couldn’t get any oxygen in, hands white knuckling the side of the counter. 

Her hand reached out for a cookie. My body betrayed everything I was screaming in my head not to do and ever so lightly push back into her touch. It felt like I moved back less than an inch, but still she froze at it. Hand hanging in the air just shy of picking up a cookie. 

My eyes looked to her in my peripheral. She was looking at me, face serious and eyes wandering. 

She pushed further, her hand continuing its movement. Every nerve felt like a live wire in my body. Her fingers grabbed a cookie and she pulled back slowly. The only touch that remained was her hand against my arm on the counter. The time and air around us felt like jello.

The phone on the back wall ringing startled me with a jump. My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my throat. I could’ve sworn her thumb brushed against my arm right as I made my way to the phone.

It was almost a relief getting a distraction away from the supercharged moment.

“Fairfield cafe, how can I help you?” I asked absently, still in a daze. 

“Yes, I was wondering what your hours were for the rest of the week?” The deep voice asked on the line.

“Uhm, yeah.” I paused a moment collecting myself. “We close at four today, we’ll be closed  tomorrow and Friday. Saturday and Sunday we’ll be open seven to five.”

“Great, thank you.” The voice replied.

“Of course, have a good night.” I said into the receiver.

“You too, have a happy holiday.” The line hung up before I could reply.

I secured the phone back on the receiver slowly. My hands held a shake to them still from the encounter with Agatha. 

I turned to find the case closed and Agatha back on her stool. The top of her cheekbones held a light dusting of red. She was looking down at her coffee, hands playing with the mug. It was rather warm in here I convinced myself as I watched her.

I started to walk back as she held her head up to look at me.

“You’d think nobody knew how to use google with how many calls I get about hours.” I said trying to lighten the atmosphere. 

She nodded with a soft smile, eyes seeming distant but looking at me.

Now that she’d touched me I felt like it was all I could think about. I’d thought about it before, but now it was consuming. 

Raising the cookie to her mouth, she took a bite. Her head hung back, neck stretching out as she chewed. The noise she let out sent a feeling low into my gut. I felt my hands clinging to the counter hard again. I couldn’t do anything but watch her, mouth just barely open watching her. 

“You have good taste, excellent recommendation.” She said casually as if she hadn’t just altered my brain.

I let out a soft sigh and nodded at her. I don’t know how, but I had to reel it in. I looked to the clock, fifteen minutes until closing. 

I was desperate for four o’clock, but also never wanted it to strike.

She took another bite, eyeing me as her phone started to ring in her purse.

She leant over to fish it out, eyes rolling at the screen. She showed it to me, revealing the same name that shown yesterday. Adam Pontes. She answered and took another bite. 

“Busy right now.” She said through a chew.

A few nods and hums came out of her. A complete disinterest in anything he had to say to her, eyes staying on me.

“Did I mention I was busy?” She asked winking at me.

I let out a far too audible sigh at her gesture. 

“It can wait.” She said into the phone, tone taking an annoyed turn. “Bore me with it tomorrow, goodbye.”

She pulled the phone from her ear. The faint sound of Adam still talking as she hung it up and dropped it to the counter.

“Tomorrow?” I questioned loosening my hands steel grip. “No rest for Miss. Harkness on a holiday?”

Her jaw visibly clenched, eyes flicking to mine with a seriousness. A long pause had me thinking I said something wrong.

Eyebrows shooting up lazily, she looked down to her almost finished cookie.

“Holidays are just another day.” She waved her hand up at this. 

I wasn’t sure what to say at that. Was it actually possible this woman had nowhere to go on a Holiday?

“I can understand that. Family can be overwhelming at times?” I left it in a question. I wasn’t sure what else to say.

She wordlessly nodded at me, the atmosphere seemed to take a sullen turn. 

“Enough about me, what are your plans for tomorrow?” She asked smile not quite reaching her gorgeous eyes. The lines near them only faintly shown.

“Heading to my parents in the morning.” I quickly replied, fully realizing she wanted to change the subject. “I help them cook before the rest of the family arrives.”

“That sounds nice.” She seemed to really mean it as it sweetly rolled off her tongue. 

“I’ll admit.” With a nod. “I haven’t seen my parents in a bit, I kind of miss them.” I said the end in a whisper like it was secret.

The smile caught up to her eyes again as she leaned the side of her head onto her hand. 

“You have a good relationship with them?” She asked curiously.

“Yes.” I replied halting before I continued. “When I first came out to them, my mom was distant for quite a bit. Now she’s amazing, pride socks in June and all.”

There it was, out in the open for her to take. It felt like an unnecessary comment, but something forced it out. Something inside of me desperately wanted her to know.

The lines next to her eyes beautifully deepened with her smile. A light laugh left her mouth as she straightened her head up from her hand. 

I breathed a laugh out of my nose along with her, taking this reaction as a good sign. 

“And are you bringing anyone home for the occasion?” She asked a slight clip to her voice.

I laughed shaking my head and looking down. “I haven’t had someone to bring home in.” I stopped myself. “Well, let’s just say a very long while.” It felt almost embarrassing to admit how long it had been to her. Uttering the word years at the end of that sentence felt too telling. 

She tapped her phone screen after a moment, both of our eyes traveled to it. Four o’clock loomed just a handful of minutes away.

“I should let you close up.” She said standing gracefully. 

I wanted to ask her to just stay. See if she felt like keeping me company at a grocery store. Wanting to ask her if she’d like to come home with me for Thanksgiving dinner.

Everything about her was so elegant, even the way she picked up her phone. I suddenly felt self conscious with everything to do with myself. The difference in our age glared in my mind crashing me to reality. 

I made my way around the counter to walk her to the door, shutting the lights off as I did. The room was now only covered in the flow of the retreating sun and the distant light in the kitchen. 

Just the same as yesterday she leaned her shoulder against the door, pausing to look back at me. She was absolutely breathtaking and I was just some girl pouring coffee. I felt my mood sinking as the seconds ticked by. “I’ll see you after the holiday.” She said into the air earning a nod from me. 

There was a shift, both of us seeming to be consumed in our own thoughts now.

“I look forward to it.” I forced out as she opened the door.

She turned fully back to me, spare hand slipping into her pants pocket.

After what seemed like an eternity of her eyeing me she spoke. 

“Me too.” 

With that she left, coat waving in the wake of her turn and the wind outside.

I stared foolishly out the door after her. She seemed to make a point not to look back at me, or maybe it just didn’t even cross her mind to look. She drove off leaving me questioning every second of the interaction we just had. 

[sunlight-s0ngbird]

Yandere siren with male reader who is adventure sailor who is lost in sea and now homesick trying to ask siren for help which can go bad or good depending on siren do if you want

Hope you have a good day!!!

Ocean of Angels.

Yandere siren x Male! Sailor! Reader Summary: After being lost at sea for weeks, the only company being a siren, you yearn for home again. Content warnings: Unhealthy dynamics, slightly sexual comments, use of (Y/n) once, this post is not made in support of the unhealthy dynamics in this piece. Word count: 2.5k AI was not used to make this. Do not use to make or for ai. Welcome board Request rules Yandere siren masterlist °‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

Seventeen months. One year and five months is the exact time you’ve been at sea. You came with thirteen shipmates and ended with seven. The oranges had gone bad rather quickly but held several of you over for a couple weeks. Only Captain Church, you, and a couple others lived well enough to continue. 

The ship was quieter than ever. The singers got scurvy very early on and no one wanted to try replacing him. You can’t sing away sirens if you’re not considered ‘good’ to them. 

The sky and the sea were almost the same shade at the dead of night. The orange lamplights did little to help you see anything within 50ft of the boat. The only sound of was the water and seagulls trying to find a place to stay for the night, calling to each other. No sirens, which saddened you endlessly. It only meant she wasn’t here. Late again. 

You scoff as you look back down at the golden pocket watch you managed to steal from Captain Church, snatching it up from the desk in the captain’s courters.  

Her song hadn’t been heard for hours. Traditionally, she’d sing a seven thirty, get to the net and be pulled up. But then she came at eight. Then nine. Now that it was ten thirty, nowhere to be seen. It’s possible she did it on purpose, knowing you, as a human, needed to sleep at night. She more likely did it to see how late you’re willing to stay up for her. 

“You don’t have to be out here anymore, it is getting late,” Captain Church called from the top of the stairs. The suddenness of his deep voice caused you to tense and quickly hide the pocket watch in your palm. You turned around to see him standing in white pajamas, parts of his white beard wet from washing his face. 

You nod, looking back at the water surrounding you both. Still no sign of her. “I know,” you mutter, pausing to think of an explanation, “just feeling a bit sick.” 

“Well... hope it’s nothing too serious. Don’t want to keep you out here for months without proper medicine,” Church voiced with care. You managed to get a sight of his teeth before he slowly turning and heading back to the cabins. The captain’s gums were an angry red, his teeth a pale yellow smeared with blood. He didn’t have much longer, even if he told you that that wasn’t true. “Keep an eye for those fish ladies, they’ve been terrible these recent nights.” 

“Yes, sir,” you nod to him, looking at the back of his head as he leaves for the stairs, hearing the whine of the wood under his foot as he trudged down each step. 

“Oh, and if you see that pocket watch, make sure to get it back to me. I haven’t seen it for a while,” the captain calls from the bottom of the stairs, the creek of the door stopping you from calling back to him. He barely used it, so you having it wasn’t that big of a deal. It still made you nervous, thinking he would find you with it. 

The waves crashed against the bottom of the boat, drawing the ship from side to side. The free-flowing breeze drew around you and shook the lamp light, moving your shadow as if it went against the ship itself. 

The soft singing sounded like a bird, the notes getting higher to overpower the water crashing against the hard sides. The calls travelled over the sea to you, causing the muscles in your arms and legs to tense, like sores. Your hands that held the rails of the boat managed to keep you up when you lost your sense of stability with the siren’s songs. 

It stopped almost as quickly as it started, powerful enough to tense your muscles but not enough to get you climbing over the boats edge. Flexing your hands and legs hastily, you quickly fixed yourself for the lady in the sea. Calliope. 

Your eyes turn down to the blue abyss, finally seeing the siren. You huff to yourself about her showing up. The only way you can see her in the water was her skin, looking as light as a pearl against the blue waves. Her blonde hair laid in the water like the arms of an octopus, moving aimlessly like the curls had minds of their own. Her blue tail curled underneath her as she reached her boney hand up to the sky. Calliope reached for the net, pulling it down into the water to climb into like a swing. 

“Hi, Calliope,” you called down to her, watching as the siren tilted her head up, her hair that had scattered in the water now clung to her skin, covering her bare flesh. You could feel the smile as you spoke, your cheeks warm. 

“Hi, (Y/n),” she called back, baring her sharp white teeth. 

Once she was well adjusted for her “swing”, you grab the rope and brace yourself. 

“Captain hears you at night, you know,” you remark, smiling down at her. Gritting your teeth, you pulled the net up the side of the boat, the rope making a strained noise against your hands and the pulley. Even with working hard labor on the ship and Calliope being rather thin, her nightly song calls always made you muscles hurt a little bit. 

“Isn’t that a good thing? That the old man hasn’t lost his hearing?” Calliope said back. She sat curled in the net, the blue scaley skin of her tail poked out from the gaps in the ropes. You could hear the smile in her voice. 

“Sure,” you mumble to yourself, barely able to raise your voice for her. 

The pulley squeaked with almost every tug, causing you to grow anxious with every screech, hoping it wouldn’t wake anyone from their slumber or that Church’s hearing had truthfully been worse than you both imagined. 

Finally pulled up the side of the ship, your eyes landed on Calliope. The ropes and her tail dripped from the salt water below. Her pale skin was bathed in a sweet orange light, bringing life to her face. 

Her lips were rarely never a pale blue; it happened every time she was brought up to the deck. She would shudder from the biting sea air but tell you that her lips were only blue because her blood went to her cheeks. 

As though your thoughts had caused the action, Calliope shuddered from the biting breeze. She grinned to cover her “weakness” (as she claims it to be) and pulled you closer, the smell of salt on her skin. 

Almost instinctively, you looked back at the stairs, making sure Captain wasn’t nearby to see her and you. He’d throw you over if he found out. Calliope looked in the same direction and grinned. “Worried someone will see?” She asks, turning your face back to look at her. 

“Yes,” you answered mindlessly, moving the wet curls from her shoulders to cover her bare breast. She looked down at your movements but stayed silent for the moment. You did it every time she came to visit. 

“You don’t need to do that,” Calliope says and swats your hand away, leaning into you for balance and to make it more difficult to move her hair. “Not much to see anyway.” 

“Doesn’t matter how much you’ve got, it’s a boat full of men,” you scoff, smiling down at her. Her long, thin hands enclosed around a large orange, just big enough to see the vibrant orange tones between her fingers. “You brought another gift?” 

“Yep,” she nodded. She took your hand and set it in your palm; it had to have been the size of a large baseball. “Just for you.” 

Every meeting, even though close together, had some sort of fruit. It only ranged from oranges to grapefruits though. But if she felt very annoyed by her last visit, lemons would be brought knowing you couldn’t not eat it. It was too funny for her, apparently. 

“Thank you,” you mumble. Setting Calliope down, you turned your attention back to the orange, feeling over the smooth skin with joy. Getting the fruit wasn’t a question you asked her, it wasn’t important to know. It was the fact you were getting them at all that mattered. 

She watched as you prodded at the skin with your nail, knowing you were more desperate than you allowed yourself to show. She held your hand and broke the peel with her thumb nail, like she knew you needed her. 

“So,” Calliope hummed, drawing your attention back to her. The white strings from the orange covered your fingers before they were tossed off the side of the ship. “Anything new?” 

You shook your head. “No.” 

“Oh,” she grumbled, leaning back against the pile of rope. 

“One of the crewmembers died yesterday,” You remark, popping one of the orange slices into your mouth. Biting down on the slice was met with a spurt of sweet citrus, making her visit a little more enjoyable (if that was even possible). 

“Oh,” Calliope says again, sitting awkwardly from the subject. 

Nothing was said for several moments, granting you the time to eat more of the orange... granting you the time to think on it. The memory of your crewmate brought a sense of loneliness, knowing you would have to watch everyone else die before you. All because you were Calliope’s favorite. 

“I want to leave this ship,” you pipe up, bring your hands down to rest in your lap. 

“What? I thought sailors liked the sea,” she scoffed, tilting her as she studied you. Her eyes were a beautiful blue, not a deep blue like the sea below the boat, but a pale blue. Her eyes were more common to see in stories about harpies, eyes as blue as their homes, the sky. It was slightly odd to see but it was pretty. 

“I miss home,” you justify, shaking your head at her words. 

It was as if the words had set something off in her, but she kept herself composed... at least to the best of her abilities. Calliope knew you would want to leave at some point, but she couldn’t stand it at all. She turned her annoyance to her fingers, picking at the long white nail on her pointer finger. 

“What? Don’t you like me?” Calliope huffed, an accusatory tone in her voice. 

“What? No, I do like you. I just...,” you paused, looking down at her as she stared up at you. “I’m a bit homesick. I miss my family. I can’t stand being out here any longer. You shouldn’t understand that because we both are very different. I mean, you live out here.” 

She pressed her lips into a slight frown, turning her head back to the sea as she ran her fingers through her curls, splitting them into smaller tentacles of gold. You wiped your face with your hands, trying to calm yourself before continuing. “I can’t stay out here forever. We barely live off the fish because you call them away whenever you visit at night. Several of the crewmembers have passed from scurvy, nearly everyone else has it,” you explain, taking her face into your hands to turn her to look at you. 

“So, I’m the issue?” She blurts, crossing her arms over her chest, at no point did she try pushing away your hand. 

“No! No,” You shake your head hastily, trying not to get her too annoyed. Annoying your only way out wasn’t what you needed right now. “It’s not you, I just can’t stay out here forever.” 

Calliope huffed and finally left your palm, looking around the ship deck, trying to find anything interesting around her. “I take care of you just fine. Isn’t that enough?” 

You pause at her words, looking down at the pieces of orange skin and where you managed to break it with your nail. She did take care of you... barely. Calliope only brought citrus fruits and wanted anything you could give her. “What you give to me is enough...,” you sigh. “Out here, it’s enough out here.” 

Another awkward silence filled the space between you two, neither of you knowing what to say. Calliope relentlessly picked at her cuticles, pulling at the lifted skin to show the pink irritated flesh underneath. 

“It doesn’t mean I hate you,” you assure her, setting one of the orange slices in her lap. “I can’t stay here for eternity and what we have... it won’t last. We both know this.” 

Nothing but air passed her lips at your words, making you fix your posture to go on to comfort her. Calliope finally made a noise. 

A song. 

Her voice started soft, too soft to hurt you just yet. It was a small Irish ballad that the was swept up by the wind one day. It originally was held by Captain Church, meant to be given to the ship's singer. 

She gradually got louder as she grew more agitated, violently grabbing at your arms before you could plug your ears. 

Her voice travelled through the air, carrying to your ears as she wrapped her arms around your torso, pulling you to her chest. You could feel every muscle in your body tensing, like a wave that travelled from your head to your toes. 

The ballad was quickly followed by another song. It was the same one the dead crewmate sang. It came from inland, a common song from the mountain range. Guess he wasn’t good enough to keep her away. It should have been obvious that that would be the case, you thought she was the most beautiful singer you had heard. 

Her voice grew louder, growing angrier as if the idea that you ‘wouldn’t last’ was more terrifying than anything she could think of. It was a beautiful melody that seemed to work with the ocean and the wind, combining to make a proper tune. Nature must prefer Calliope; it wouldn’t surprise you if it always has. 

Calliope’s fingers caught onto the loops and waves of your shirt, pinching it to keep you against her as she pulled and pushed. Her voice strained as she lifted you against the side of the ship, holding you there before lifting your leg and pushing you over. 

The fall was quick but not for your nerves. Prickles of anxiety drew over your back as gravity forced you down into the arms of the ocean blue. Even with the fear that filled you, your eyes were still trained on Calliope, who was following you down. 

The millisecond of sloshing salt water covered up Calliope’s song, but the iciness of the water caused your muscles to tighten and tense again. Your eyes managed to close with the burn of salt, Calliope’s figure being replaced by darkness. She takes the opportunity to pull you closer. Her nails clawed at your clothes, cutting through the fabric and to your skin. The bright red flowed in the water like sea foam. 

Calliope pulled you down with her, holding you to her chest to keep you down. When she opened her mouth to continue her song, bubbles drew from her lips and the vibrant notes continued. 

The bottom of your boat faded with each painful wretch of your limbs, reaching up for the darkness. Just as your sight grew fuzzy and closed, the bubbles of air left your mouth. 

°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

[onlyangel4]

booking of the century. drew mcintrye. final part.

drew mcintyre x returning!reader

part one // part two// part three // part four

synopsis: triple h books you four years since your last match and a lot has changed but the man you fell in love with all those years ago still has your heart.

author's note: thank you so much for all the love on this series, love y'all

series taglist: @leo4242564 @sweezthi

y/ninsta posted a story

written: got the biggest match of my return, coming for you chelsea green.

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“are you really not going to tell me whether you are winning tonight or not?”

“that’s not my decision, boss man wants to get your genuine reaction to the match, i contractually can not tell you anything”, you spoke looking up at drew.

the two of you stood backstage drew’s arms wrapped securely around your middle, chin rested on your head just holding you close waiting for your cue to go out and start your match with chelsea green.

it had been six months since your return and you had been dating drew for three of those months. most of those on smackdown knew about your relationship because the two of you could not keep your hands off one another. storyline wise you had remained loyal to drew, especially during his matches against damian, you were always there as a distraction as the storyline was that damian had feelings for you but as drew was what you had known before your hiatus you had stayed loyal to him. your characters were not dating but backstage interviews always showed the two of you standing just a little too close, leaving plenty to the imagination.  

“i love this gear”, drew spoke as he tucked a strand of loosely curled hair behind your ear. you had designed your gear, wanting something special for your first major match since returning to the company, you were dressed in a striking set inspired by the legend of the phoenix. the vibrant ensemble featured a blood red base with shimmering gold flames licking up the sides of your fitted shorts and sports bra top. the fabric was sleek yet sturdy, designed to hug your figure while allowing full movement in the ring.

embroidered feathers, detailed in shades of fiery orange and deep burgundy, adorned your shoulders and wrists, adding a dramatic, winged effect with every motion. a matching gold belt with a phoenix emblem sat proudly at your waist. to complete the look, knee-high black boots featured flame patterns curling up the sides, and your elbow pads bore delicate phoenix feather motifs.

“you look like you’re ready to set the whole arena on fire,” drew added with a proud smile, his fingers tracing the embroidered flames on your arm making you smile up at him.

 “oh i am”, you smirked giving him a wink before a producer came up to the two of you alerting you that it was time.

the sweeping camera shot began with you and drew backstage.

 “chelsea has talked about this match like it is going to be easy.”, you began  “she keeps on bringing up my ring rust or that i have not held a title in 5 years, but the thing is i’m not the same person i was back the. Iiam so much stronger now. because i have been reborn”

with that you stepped out into the arena beside drew. your intro played through the arena but it was different. you were debuting a brand new intro song, back from the dead. you thought it was the perfect song for your entrance especially since the song from before your hiatus felt too soft for this new elevated in ring persona of yours.

the walk down to the ring was perfect despite not being practiced, drew looked like your silent guard dog as he walked beside you, glaring at anyone who shouted anything negative at you, despite not many people doing so there were still a few fans that did not like you. they saw you as abandoning the company and only returning when it suited you and not the company.

as you made your way to the ring your eyes spotted a little girl with a sign that read “y/n is my hero”, without hesitating you stopped at the girl slipping your entrance jacket off your shoulders, “it might be a little big for you but keep it for when you are older”, you smiled at the girl giving her your jacket standing there long enough for the girl’s mother to take a picture of you with her daughter and you grinned ruffling the girl’s hair, "keep being brilliant"

drew hopped onto the apron, pulling the rope down allowing you to climb into the ring with ease, you blew him a kiss before he stepped down to his ringside position.  

the music then changed to chelsea’s track and she made her way towards the ring flanked by both piper and elba. that was the one problem with your in-ring persona not having any friends on the blue brand. drew could not get involved with any of the matches, so you had to be more creative about things. and for this match you did have a secret weapon up your sleeve to help counter this disadvantage.

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the match was gruelling, it had gone on for twenty five minutes with Chelsea giving her all while you left it all out on the mat. elba and piper had helped chelsea several times, with piper even giving chelsea a steel chair at one point and distracting the ref so she could crack you over the back with it. and drew was there yelling at the ref for allowing that to happen you just smirked winking at drew before hitting chelsea with a nasty right hook, getting the message across that you weren’t going to go down without a fight.

there was a turning point in the match, you were run down struggling to stay upright and chelsea had cornered you in the ring, she gave elba a nod signalling that she was to help her pull you out of the ring and onto the hard floor. But instead elba just smirked and hooked her arm around chelsea pulling her out of the ring and tossing her hashly on the ground. piper was distracting the ref and chelsea was left laid out on the floor giving you enough time to catch your breath.

“did you really think i just happened to join your side the same week y/n appeared, this had been my plan all these months”, elba taunted chelsea, “you underestimated me just like you underestimated her”

you laughed breathlessly at your friend picking chelsea up and tossing her into the ring again. you performed your finisher and despite piper trying to get involved elba neutralised her.

“1. 2. 3.”, each counted seemed to take forever but the crowd erupted as the ref grabbed your hand pulling you to your feet.

“introducing your new u.s. champion y/n y/ln”, the announcer roared and your mind was racing. of course you knew were going to win but it had just hit you that this was really happening. that you had returned to the company you loved and you were finally healed enough from the loss of your mother to run back into the arms of the man that you had fallen in love with all those years ago and return to a career that you loved. you had completed your dreams. the camera zoomed in on your face as actual tears formed in your eyes. yes it was a mid card title, but it meant the world to you.

you were brought back down to earth by a strong arm wrapping around your middle. Drew had joined you in the ring, pulling you close to him. now this part was not planned but drew could not help himself, his large hand came to your cheek wiping away your salty tears. and then he leant in and captured your lips in a soft kiss, the crowd going wild as you just melted against him. he slowly pulled away from your lips, “i am so proud of you”, he spoke.

“that must be why triple h didn’t want me to tell you”, you laughed.

just so fucking glad that you had picked up his call all those months ago.

you were home.

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y/ninsta

liked by drewmcintyrewwe, rhearipleywwe, trinity_fatu and 789,728 others

tagged: drewmcintyrewwe

y/ninsta: spoiler alert, it has all been real x

view all 12,982 comments

drewmcintyrewwe: my champion

y/ninsta: i love you so much

trinity_fatu: so happy to have you back

y/ninsta: so happy to be back

user4: couple goals

user5: haha fuck you damian priest

comment liked by drewmcintyrewwe

user6: i am so happy for you y/n

user7: you gave my daughter your jacket last night, thank you so much she hasn't let go of it since we got back

[autistic-mandalorian]

I would love to hear this

Oh sure! Fair warning, this gets long, so it's under a cut:

So I have looked carefully at Maul post-bisection, specifically at where his abdomen ends and his prosthesis begins, and I believe that he was bisected between the L3 and L5 vertebrae, or just above his pelvic bone. Here is a diagram I drew on of where he was cut:

Image Description: The first image is a screenshot of Maul with his prosthetic legs from TCW. The screenshot is annotated to note where exactly Maul is divided between flesh and prosthesis. The second image is two diagrams side-by-side, one of the human body focusing on organs, and the other of the spine. Both have a line drawn around where the belly button is to note where Maul was bisected. End ID.

So in terms of what he lost, it was a LOT. Not just his legs, but most of his intestines, his bladder, his pelvis, his gonads, half his bones, most of his blood volume, and a lot of his abdominal and back muscles (as well as their attachment points, making the remaining muscles limited in their usefulness).

Image description: A diagram of the human musculature, from the ventral and dorsal sides. The diagram has a line drawn across it to show where Maul was bisected.

Fortunately for him, most of the organs in humanoids are located in the chest cavity (because the intestines need a LOT of room to work), so he kept his kidneys, liver, stomach, lungs, hearts, pancreas, gallbladder, etc etc. However, his intestines are interesting in that by getting chopped in half, his small intestine was actually disconnected from his large intestine. The small intestine connects to the large through the ileocecal valve, which is located on the left inferior side of the abdominal cavity. He got chopped right through the middle of the abdominal cavity, so he lost his entire cecum, the majority (if not all) of his ileum, and the valve that connected them. This means that anything he digested would just ooze into his abdominal cavity even after the giant wound repaired itself, unless he got surgery to reconnect them. We will say for the sake of the story that he fixed it with The Force while living in his trash hole.

Now, it is possible for people to be bisected like he was and survive, just only in a medical environment. It's an extremely rare and radical surgery called a hemicorporectomy. It's the last of the last resorts, because it leaves you with a lot of problems. Here are some of them:

Maul would need both a colostomy and urostomy bag, since his rectum and bladder are both gone. These would need to be regularly cleaned and emptied.

His missing intestines would also result in his not digesting most of his food fully, so he would need supplemental nutrients to help combat malnutrition. He obviously does not get these for most of his life (if ever) so he is almost certainly malnourished.

Due to his newfound Nightmare Castration, he would need regular doses of hormones or would risk osteoporosis. Which hormones is up to the reader (I nominate estrogen)

His spinal cord is, thankfully, fine--- it doesn't actually extend past L1-L2. However, he did lose the filum terminale, meaning his spinal cord is kinda unanchored in his spine and floating around, which isn't great and could lead to nerve issues down the line. Some of the nerves that were cut in his lumbar spine (specifically, the L4 lumbar nerve supplying the quadratus lumborum muscle) could also cause partial paralysis in his back, as well as some wicked back pain.

Shoutout to @necropocene for inspiration as well as the following headcanons:

Maul's lungs and other organs are constricted by his intestines being forced upward into his chest cavity, reducing his lung capacity

Maul suffers from chronic nausea

Maul's prosthesis needs to be very well-cushioned because the waist is not a load-bearing structure (too squishy!)

Now onto my specific headcanons for his prosthetics and mobility devices:

The thing about pelvises is not only do they let you use legs, they also allow your organs and muscles to attach to something rigid. For this reason, I think Maul should have two pelvises: one internal, being more like a metal frame that his abdominal and back muscles attach to, and one external and connected to his legs.

The lumbar spine and sacrum are what allow the spine to connect to the pelvis, so in order to use his prosthetic legs, I think it would be prudent to give Maul a prosthetic spine, Borg Queen-style. Now, this would admittedly be a pretty big infection risk (piece of metal sticking through the skin and all) but I think it's cool so I am invoking The Rule of Cool on this one.

Maul's legs are not something I spent much time on, because his canon ones are fine.

I do have headcanons for a wheelchair, though!

His wheelchair wouldn't be designed like your average wheelchair, because those are generally designed to accommodate people who have pelvises. His would probably look more like a plant pot or a baby bjorn, imo? It would have to support him without putting too much pressure on his torso, so I think a sort of foam well with a backrest, attached to wheels would be a good design.

I also think that his prosthetic spine should be able to dock with the wheelchair so that he can control it as an extension of his body, like the prosthetic legs.

Image description: Three pencil drawings on notebook paper. One is of Maul post-bisection, with each of his organs labeled and colostomy, urostomy, and gastronomy ports. The next two are of his wheelchair, which follows the description previously given. End ID.

And yeah, those are my headcanons! Thanks for asking :) I love talking about fantasy biology!

[fluffymary]

Aight, time for some silly shit. Chapter 1, obviously our boi huggy doesn't get brained by a falling box in the AU. The box DOES fall and break the catwalk, but he stops in time to not get hit. Watches the box fall, winces a bit as he hears it crash, seems more relieved that the protagonist isn't hurt than anything. Smiles, shrugs it off, swings away across a couple of pipes (cuz monke) leaving them to meet up with Poppy. On that note she's not trapped in a case, the little area she's in is actually a proper dollhouse-like living quarters. She just stays higher up in the factory because she is smol and easily gettable and...can't take much in general really. (she's okay with huggy and kissy though). Her motivations for wanting to head deeper into the factory are...unclear at moment (because canon), but it'll likely either be keeping the prototype in check or wanting to encourage it further. Chapter 2, Mommy Long Legs' motivation for taking Poppy with her while you're stuck in the games is wanting to spend a little girl time with her. I'll detail the game stations in a separate post later on, but suffice it to say yes she deliberately sabotaged the last one just to give herself an excuse to mess with the player. Her chase ends not with being mulched by gears, but accidentally getting herself pulled into some sort of cleaning machine and wrecked by a bunch of brushes and carwash rollers instead. The player DOES mercifully turn it off after a couple minutes to let her out, and she decides to call things even there. (You can hear the prototype chuckling from the shadows as she walks off) Chapter 3 is a fun one. For starters, all eight of the bigger body critters are still around and just having a blast. The catch is every so often they pick one of their number to appease the mini critters' insatiable ler moods for a while, and at the time the player visits...yeah it's Dogday who drew the short straw. Instead of a prison the player finds him laying in bed in a section of repurposed staff quarters, missing his lower half and giggling uncontrollably. He reassures them that he's okay and that this is an intended feature of his design, and explains the whole deal with the mini critters. Soon after they swarm in because apparently they got bored of only having his legs and feet to play with, and he urges the player to flee before they get caught in the crossfire. And of course for Catnap...the red smoke in this AU is a more recent development; the doctor and prototype concocted it, and the prototype bestowed it on Catnap as a gift for its favorite little fankitty. Inhaling it doesn't just make you hallucinate; it also makes you even more sensitive AND actively want to get tickled. In fact in the AU, Catnap very nearly manages to overwhelm the player in his final stand. Instead of being electrocuted, set on fire, and impaled though...well, he hears a bell, realizes that it's now his turn to be the minis' plaything, and promptly finds himself being dragged off, pleading with them for just five more minutes XD. A freshly reassembled Dogday finds the player and brings them back to where the other big critters are staying so they can rest up a bit and recover before they continue on. I'll get back to you on chapter 4. Still catching up on that one

Tech you are a GENIUS. no fucking wonder the cuphead au was fire as well

[cielur5ww]

୨📜୧ ─────・ It's my problem, not yours.

▭ Synopsis﹕ Scaramouche had heard of you, the perfect student... the one who had it all. Though he had never interacted with you, he found you disagreeable. But it seems this time, you'll be getting closer than he'd prefer... so why does he feel this pressure in his chest and the heat rising to his cheeks?

★ ❪CW❫── male!reader!student x Scaramouche, AU modern, small insults, the reader is a perfect student, Scara hates you a little, Scara's POV, Scara being a tsundere

ᶻz ─── n/a﹕I just vomited this idea, ignore me.. Maybe I'll do more parts, MAYBE (I am very procrastinating and lazy). Any spelling mistakes... sorry, I don't want to review it, I'll probably post something new in another 2 months.

Scaramouche sighed, letting out a slight huff as he rolled his eyes to disguise his mild annoyance.

His delicate hands held the exam paper, and though he had thought he did well, he noted the few incorrect marks in his answers (only three), seeing the red number at the top, an 80. The maximum score was 100, and he had hoped to have scored at least an 85 or perhaps a 90, but he wasn't too surprised either. After all, he had only had a few days to study.

He could glance over his shoulder at his neighbor, who had scored a 60. That at least comforted him a bit, knowing there wouldn't be many with a grade as high as his.

His gaze wandered around the room, passing over each of his classmates' heads until he found your hair... The perfect student.

Scaramouche huffed slightly, feeling annoyed, and kept glancing away, gritting his teeth a little. You were the stupid perfect student, the teacher's pet, who probably scored a 100 effortlessly... But his curiosity drew him back to you in the distance, watching as you held the exam paper in your hands for several seconds instead of putting it away and being done. You were reviewing your exam sheet with the textbook open, as if double-checking your own already perfect answers.

However, in the end, it seemed you had left your exam sheet, flipping it over on your desk and closing the book. Your head was slightly tilted, maybe you had made a mistake in one answer... he thought, but still, you were the 100 student, if you got a 95, you still had an excellent grade. He sighed again, looking away to focus on his own affairs.

As he heard the slight squeak of the chair backing up a bit, he looked up once more, and some strands of his indigo hair bothered him a bit. He quickly adjusted his hair and watched as you stood up from your seat, still with your back to him.

"Teacher, may I go to the bathroom?" It was a simple and typical question among students, but this time, it was you who asked. Obviously, the teacher gave you approval, and you quickly left the classroom, blending into the class's murmur. But he saw you. Scaramouche observed you.

He simply didn't pay it much mind, leaning back in his desk and stretching a bit over the table, lost in his thoughts and staring into space.

Now that he thought about it, he had never interacted with you. Well, he had never spoken to you.

Scaramouche remembered the first and last time you had spoken to him, even if it was just a small accident.

It was in the hallway while he was carrying some books to the office (the teacher had forced him). There were quite a few books, and he struggled a bit to carry them, so he couldn't see well as he walked. Accidentally, he bumped the books against your back.

Ugh, just remembering it seemed like a stupid cliché encounter from love stories, like when the girl bumps into the guy and it's love at first sight. He groaned at that thought, but he continued to recall how you had interacted with him.

After the collision, obviously the books fell to the ground, and you immediately apologized (when he was the one at fault), bending down to pick them up and arrange them in a row. He also crouched down, but didn't say anything, just furrowed his brow.

"Do you want me to help you carry this?" You had asked him kindly, your voice disgustingly soft for his taste, but he didn't say anything. He had already recognized you as the proclaimed perfect student, the teacher's pet, and... the number one in school.

He didn't like you, that was his point.

He wanted to refuse, but he also didn't want to carry those books again alone, so reluctantly he just carried half of them in silence, standing up and giving you a silent confirmation without meeting your gaze.

They walked together to the office, maintaining the uncomfortable silence between them. Scaramouche silently appreciated that you didn't unnecessarily try to fill that void. When they arrived, he immediately dropped off the books, giving a small greeting to the secretary to not seem rude, and then walked past you, distancing himself.

He didn't want anything to do with you, and he easily achieved that. He avoided you and kept his distance.

But oh, surprise! He and you shared three classes together: Biology, Arts, and Mathematics. Still, he didn't attempt to get closer or interact with you; it seemed unnecessary to him. He knew nothing about you, apart from being the "perfect" student. He thought you were arrogant, only showing kindness and politeness to maintain your facade of an exemplary student.

Scaramouche probably imagined that every time the teachers praised you or asked the students to follow your example, you were secretly laughing mockingly inside or looking down on others behind your soft and repulsive smile.

Scaramouche hated you.

Did he have reasons? No, but he found you distasteful for some reason.

The sound of the bell snapped him out of his thoughts immediately. Automatically, he began to pack his things into his backpack, and once finished, he stood up and made his way through the people exiting the classroom, navigating through the crowded hallway toward the exit.

It was break time, and he simply didn't want anything to do with the crowd of stupid people around him. So, he walked through the crowded halls, ignoring everyone. After all, he didn't really know anyone.

Scaramouche's feet carried him towards the stairs leading upstairs, until he reached the door that led to the rooftop. Normally, this area was blocked off, and it was forbidden to go out, but he really didn't care.

So, he easily opened the doors, removing the padlock (he had stolen the keys from the counselor's office). He closed the doors behind him so that no one would suspect that someone had been on the rooftop. He tucked the key into the pocket of his blue coat and took out his headphones and phone to listen to music, the only thing that relaxed him.

He walked across the rooftop, staying away from the edge to avoid being seen, but not too much in the center either. He headed towards the benches, which were strangely clean; probably the janitor also cleaned this place. He sat down, put on his headphones, and started playing music.

Gently, he lay back on his back, with his arms behind his head, starting to close his eyes, immersing himself in his own world of music, finding peace in melancholy.

Song by song, Scaramouche began to feel drowsy, sinking into a state of relaxation. However, when he opened his eyes, he found your face disgusting... again.

Why was God punishing him this day?

Automatically, he sat up, removing his headphones at the same time. He looked up and saw you. You had the impeccable school uniform, clean and strangely soft-looking hair, and your eyes were calm and gentle, in perfect harmony with your hair. You were too close for his liking, although technically you weren't invading his personal space, you were still there, practically in front of him, with your hands behind your back and a soft smile that he felt was fake.

"I thought this place was off-limits." You commented calmly, looking at him with those eyes that seemed as serene as water on the surface, yet so deep that they could easily swallow him whole.

He didn't want to answer how the heck he got into this closed-off place... so he simply averted his gaze with indifference, trying to show disinterest. To him, you were just an arrogant idiot, he told himself.

There were seconds of uncomfortable silence for Scaramouche as you continued to observe him with those eyes of yours. He felt uneasy under your gaze. So, he huffed annoyed, looking back at you and furrowing his brow.

"I thought the model student didn't break any rules in school." He declared, looking at you defiantly. He didn't care if you went and talked to a teacher, pointing him out for being on the rooftop, because you were there too. That place was supposed to be off-limits, but there you were, looking at him.

However, you simply smiled, as if it didn't affect you at all if he told a teacher that you had broken a rule. Although, on second thought, they wouldn't believe him, they would believe you because you were the perfect student, the role model. But if Scaramouche were to prove that you had broken a rule, it wouldn't matter because many teachers would probably overlook it due to your reputation as the responsible student with a bright future.

That's why maybe you were smiling so calmly. He clenched his teeth slightly, annoyed by your mere presence.

"I was just checking who was on the rooftop, as there have been incidents of students smoking here or having gatherings that are prohibited without a teacher's authorization." You responded softly, still smiling at him with that fake smile of yours, and you even sounded completely logical.

Your eyes, looking directly at him, made him feel small under your calm and deep gaze, like that of an animal observing its prey. But he wasn't going to let you take control.

"Do you see me smoking?" He responded, looking at you without hesitation, although the slight pressure in his chest increased with every moment you continued to look at him. Then, you gently closed your eyes and then opened them, looking in another direction, probably gazing at the blue sky.

"No, you're not smoking. I was just... 'investigating', I guess you could say." You said softly. Damn, maybe he understood now why they said you were so kind; it was your disgustingly soft tone of voice.

Although he also silently appreciated that you stopped looking at him. The tension in his muscles briefly relaxed, but his mind raced trying to decide how to act now. Respond? Ignore you? Say nothing? Leave? Any option seemed bad to him.

He decided to go for the first option, maybe then you would be satisfied with the conversation and leave him alone, ignoring him and forgetting about him.

"Are you going to tell a teacher, then?" He said, sounding uninterested because it was the truth. He really didn't care if a teacher scolded him for breaking a rule, as his mother wouldn't have time to go to the school and find out. But he continued the conversation, hoping you would leave him alone afterwards, and also so he would know whether or not he would be accused by you.

"Mhmm.." you hummed to yourself. He watched you step back a bit to lean gently against the whitish wall, crossing your arms, and again... looking at him. "Don't worry, Scaramouche, I won't." Damn, how did you know his name?

He remained still, watching your stupid smile that he disliked so much and how your lips pronounced his name. He didn't even know how you knew his name or why you had memorized it. Even though he hadn't told you, still... he looked at you, processing what you had just said, but at least you weren't going to rat him out. Was that a good thing? One could say yes.

"And this sudden kindness?" He immediately recovered, putting one leg up on the bench he was sitting on, bending it enough to lean his elbow on it and look you in the eyes, adopting a casual and unconcerned posture.

Or so he tried to appear, but his brain fried a bit when you called him by his name. He wondered why you had memorized his name, but he would go on with his intention. He wouldn't let himself be dragged down by you; you were just... ridiculous.

He watched in slow motion as you gently closed your eyes, fluttering your eyelashes, and then opened them again, tilting your head slightly... looking at him.

"I just noticed you weren't in class, the bell rang over 5 minutes ago." You commented casually, looking directly at him.

When the hell had the bell rung? He didn't even realize that time had passed too quickly for his liking... and he remembered that he also had classes with you today, and in math class, adding more weight to the situation. He would definitely be scolded, so he immediately stood up with a clear sound.

"Did the bell already ring? Why didn't you tell me, idiot?!" Scaramouche snapped at you, giving you a death glare as he checked the time on his phone. Even though he didn't give a damn about what the teachers thought, the math teacher punished him with too many assignments, which literally gave him a headache.

Scaramouche hurried towards the rooftop door, opening it. But a hand on his arm stopped him just as he was about to step onto the first step down.

"It's okay, Scaramouche. Let's go together, so the teacher won't scold you." You said softly. Now you were disgustingly close, he could feel the soft perfume surrounding you. It wasn't strong or intense, but soft... His brain went blank from your tone of voice and your strange comforting touch for him. After a few seconds, he reacted, stepping down onto the first step and turning around to look at you, pulling his arm away from your grip abruptly.

"Let go of me, idiot," Scaramouche muttered through gritted teeth, looking at you defiantly. But why did he feel like his cheeks were gently warming up? He lowered his gaze and turned, descending the stairs quickly without waiting for you. However, he could hear how you followed suit afterward.

After a few minutes, they were standing in front of the classroom door they had today, with the math teacher. Obviously, upon entering, the teacher was clearly not happy that Scaramouche had arrived late, but his expression immediately changed when he saw you with him.

He asked why you came back from the bathroom with Scaramouche, and in the end, you ended up lying for him, saying that when you returned to the classroom, you saw Scaramouche sleeping, so you woke him up and told him about the class time.

The teacher had no choice but to scold him for not falling asleep outside during class time and next time, threatening him with punishment if he did it again (basically, thanks to you, he wasn't punished this time). Scaramouche simply remained silent, not even thanking you.

He went to his seat, sighing irritably, trying to focus on the class and ignoring the fact that, in the distance, you seemed to have that stupid smile again. Maybe it was one of triumph for having helped him and now he owed you a favor... you were so annoying to him.

Thanks to your stupid pretty face and good reputation, you helped him this time and decided that you wouldn't tell anyone about the guy on the roof. What did you want from him? He doesn't know but he doesn't want to return the favor.

You were just two-faced, surely..

This was their problem, not yours, you're just a stupid busybody.

Bonus:

Scaramouche was there, sitting... trying to concentrate on Math class but really, he didn't understand at all...

"Where the hell did the teacher get that -26?.."

He simply groaned in annoyance in his seat, his gaze wandering over the others' heads, to where you were... and he thought about the roof.

Oh shit, he had forgotten to put the new lock on the doors.

At the next recess, Scaramouche immediately went through the crowd to the roof, to make up for his mistake, but when he went, the doors to the roof were locked... he was a little relieved, but he wondered if the janitor was the one who did it. And then he looked in his pocket for the key but he realized that only his cell phone and headphones were there... the key was not there.

At what point did he lose it?!

In reality, it was you who had stolen Scaramouche's key when you were with him, and when he was going down the stairs you made sure to lock it with the utmost care that it was silent because you knew that Scaramouche might react badly.

Scaramouche in the end deduced that the only culprit was you.