#...the best compliments I have ever received regarding the ‘feel’ of my work. I’ve even been told that my work looks like the stuff...

[stsgooo]

The Moonlight Goddess.

✩࿐ summary: the toy that got tucked away, would eventually come back out to play.

warning(s): chapter 48.2 manga spoilers, unedited. wc; 3.2k

pairing(s): jinshi/fem!reader

a/n: caught up on the manga, feeling incredibly deranged. i will Not be speaking about chapter 65 as that was the craziest experience i've ever had at 1 am. also, i'll be reading the light novel soon :)) anyway, i hope you enjoy this random thing i cooked up.

part ii m.list ao3

WHEN MAOMAO SUGGESTED JINSHI TAKE THE PLACE OF A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN, YOU WEREN’T ENTIRELY CONVINCED.

Sure, your master was a beautiful man who had won the lottery of genetics. But you weren’t sure if he could convince beautiful western women that he of the same level, if not above, as them. It wasn’t a slight towards him. A lack of confidence in his abilities. But the mere fact that this issue itself was presented as nonsense. Achievable for a god, perhaps. But not for someone as simple as Jinshi.

It’d been 50 years since the last time the convery had last visited and spotted this beautiful woman. Surely, these girls were aware of the effects of time and how… unkind it could be to some?

It all smelt bad.

“Uh, Maomao, are we sure this is the absolute best approach for this matter?” You had asked as the three others had come to some general consensus amongst each other.

Maomao had stared at you flatly and, for a moment, you ponder if she even knew who you were. “Have you ever dealt with unruly women, Y/N?” She asked in her usual monotonous manner.

You blinked, expression equally as flat as you regarded the younger girl for a beat. Her time at Jinshi’s home had been spent, primarily, with you and Suiren. It was fond to look back on, but the two months had been stressful and the girl was rather difficult to work with. She drug you around on one or two of her little investigations. Much to the disdain of you both. The only compliment she paid you in that time was that you were quick on your feet and able to keep up with. Something that you guessed wasn’t common.

Yes, you are rather unruly, Maomao. Was the reoccurring and unkind thought that passed through your mind.

“I’ve dealt with my fair share of unruly people.” You opted to answer instead.

The girl raised an eyebrow, “Women?”

You deflated, “Many.”

Unfortunately, being Jinshi’s maid had meant you had your encounters with women who, blinded by their fondness for him, would attempt to make random walk-ins. Something strictly forbidden unless it was the upmost emergency. Despite them being the ones in the wrong, it was usually you who suffered the brunt of their abuse until Gaoshun finally decided to inquire what was wrong.

You were quite used to unruly women.

Unknowingly, you'd guaranteed your place in Maomao's plan.

She placed her fingers against her chin, eyes squinted on you. "Do you use makeup often?"

You blink, a weary frown on your lips. "What?"

"Are you familiar with makeup and hair, Y/N?"

"Of course I am." What did she take you for? A lazy uneducated lady?

Maomao grinned, something that was dark and twisted, and you felt like you had somehow stumbled into a terrible trap. "Wonderful, you'll help with Jinshi-sama's makeup!"

"Wha- no, I-I have my--" You attempted to decline, but were quickly cut off.

"That's a great idea," Jinshi spoke up, looking rather delightful as his eyes moved to you. "No one I would trust more with this."

Seeing the glint in his eyes and the kind smile, you knew you could no longer remove yourself from this plan. With a bowed head, you turned to Maomao, prepared to receive your duty.

You suppose this is how you ended up here. Maomao and Gaoshun out to find an outfit that would suit the Moonlight Goddess. And you awfully close to Jinshi's face as you carefully apply the eye makeup.

Silently, you were thankful that he had his eyes closed, as his violet eyes endlessly and innocently staring back into yours would surely make your heart stop. The work had been silent for the most part. The both of you uttering only what was needed: close your eyes, please look up, tilt your head to the side. It was the easy back and forth you both fell into.

It made you realize that most of your companionship with Jinshi had primarily been in silence. You simply deciphering exactly what he wanted from the twitch in his brow or the look he would shoot. It'd never really been on your mind before. Although, it had always been an easy agreement between you that shouldn't be brought to question or pondered upon too much. Ever since the both of you were children. Ever since you were just being trained for the duties that would be carried out in the rest of your adult life. You'd both just been in this tiptoe waltz that carried you through life.

He didn't pry too much into your personal dealings and you never questioned his demands as your master.

Life was, in all ways, easy.

But still, you felt as though this plan was toeing a line. Asking too much, underestimating the intelligence of another.

You supposed Maomao was like that and Jinshi would easily follow her word.

Maomao. Jinshi. Maomao and Jinshi.

They are quite the duo recently. You knew it would be nothing good the moment he'd called for her in Lady Gyokuyou's with that glint in his eyes. The eagerness and curiosity similar to that of a child. The way he sought her out at any given opportunity. If you had to guess, you would say Jinshi is rather fond of dear Maomao.

It made you sigh heavily, your eyes narrowed on the liner that looked a little wobbly.

"Any mistakes, you can just retry, don't stress yourself." Jinshi spoke, assuming that your sigh was related to the unsteady line rather than the trail of thoughts plaguing your mind.

You blink, eyes focused on the kind smile that stretched over his lips. A slight pitter-patter took your chest. "No worries, Jinshi-sama, I won't ruin your looks." You shoot back, softly.

Jinshi's eyebrows raised, a soft snort released. "Oh, really? Are you teasing me now?"

"I do have the ability to joke here and there, sir."

"You barely do anymore. Joke, that is." Jinshi observed, a subtle frown on his lips as you applied a bit of glimmer to his eye lids. "You're very serious now, very on edge."

"These are serious times, Jinshi-sama." You replied back smoothly, feeling an indescribable ache in your chest. "I'm sorry if I'm not entirely entertaining."

Jinshi's frown seemed to deepen. And, suddenly, his fingers were wrapped around your wrist and his eyes were open to reveal the clandestine violets that glimmered into your very soul. His hold felt warm and all encompassing, a disorienting welcoming feeling that made you falter in your work. Frozen, you offered him your undivided attention as he appeared to struggle with himself. gave him your undivided attention. His brows were furrowed and the frown on his lips was entirely too childish for the man he claimed to be. His lips parted and he released a sound akin to frustration. He huffed and huffed and huffed. Then he stared into your soul-- still, he couldn't seem to find the proper words for his thoughts.

One of the many things that Jinshi struggled with often is that he simply had a greater outlook on life while being so terribly confined. A childish optimism that should've left him once he was grown, clung to his soul desperately and gave him a more bountiful outlook on people and life. He knew the risks, he knew the dangers, he knew the nastiness of the world, but still stayed kind.

You know it was one of the many things his mother tried to change about him. That and his attachment to things. That was something you'd encountered first hand.

"You have your reservations about this, I can tell."

When he spoke, you weren't entirely sure what he'd say. There were times he was too insightful, too smart for his own good. It used to amuse you, now you only worried when it'd come across as unseemly.

Jinshi stared up at you, glittering eyes kind and approachable, his fingers squeezed gently around your wrist. "I don't want you to feel like you can't speak your mind." He continued as if he had no idea who you were. What you were. What you were to him.

Your gaze bounced between his own, a small frown breaking the perfect exterior you always desperately kept up. Maybe he was still stuck in the past. Maybe he was still enchanted by who you both used to be to one another.

The past was usually more lovely than a future unseen.

"I'm actually told not to voice my mind."

"By who?"

"Everyone."

There's a moment where Jinshi looks as if he's remembering something. Something distinct and obvious. Something that he had completely disregarded in the back of his mind for whatever reason, for however long. It must be pleasant, to not be constantly reminded that the people around you are paid or contracted to be by your side. Must be nice to have a choice.

Master. Servant. Master and servant.

That is all you and Jinshi shall ever be.

"I see," He uttered, eyes briefly tracing the tiles on the floor before fluttering back up to you with a new spark of determination. "But I'm ordering to speak your mind! Freely!"

You stared back flatly in return. Was he oblivious what freely meant? Ordering me and then saying it's of my own volition can't both be true.

Jinshi would put you into early death.

"Well, I, uh," you found his eyes to be too vibrant, to be staring too intensely and too welcoming. You turned your gaze away, desperate to grab some type of bearings over yourself. But, alas, his hand was still wrapped around your own. His skin scorched yours, tainted it with the warmth that was all his. "I think that this plan will not go entirely as you all hope."

"Is that so?" His voice is like a smooth honey, soft and all too endearing.

You hum, nodding, "Yes, uh, I believe they want you to fail, sir. And to have a rather unsavory thing to report back." Jinshi simply hummed in response. You could feel his eyes almost stroking against the side of your face. "I just think that they won't react the way you and Maomao hope they will. This is no slight to your or her intelligence, of course. Just a mere observation."

"I know what you mean, no worries." Jinshin's thumb was now slowly and softly stroking the butt of your palm. A soothing action that brought your eyes back to him. Captured in the way he serenely observed you. "What exactly about this makes you uneasy? Maybe I can ease you."

It didn't sound like an offer, but a promise. If his words weren't enough, his eyebrows were drawn together in careful contemplation. He wasn't going to walk away from this conversation without you both reassured in some capacity.

"What if they want to talk to you?"

Jinshi might had fair and delicate features, and a soft voice, but it wasn't nearly feminine enough to pass. If anything, they'd grow more suspicious. Then they'd report back about what a joke they all were and then Jinshi could suffer some type of punishment for his embarrassment. It wasn't that you were too pessimistic or didn't believe in the little group, but that the women's request felt bad all around.

A set-up if anything.

So, you took a deep breath and focused on that reassuring circle being drawn into your skin as Jinshi contemplated this for only a moment.

"Then I'll have the apothecary cover for me." Jinshi smiled, all too bright and all too reassuring. "We've already decided that I'll swim across the pond-- give me a vanishing effect and she'll deter them elsewhere."

You furrow your brow, all too worried, but bow your head instead of voicing such. "Of course, I have no doubt in you, Jinshi-sama." You reassure.

There was a beat of silence, then, "You're my oldest friend, you know?" You tense. Frozen into you bow, your wide eyes stare endlessly at his feet. His tone is tender, soft, almost hesitant, as if he wasn't sure if he should be speaking these things aloud. Yet, he continued. "You're the only one, beside Gaoshun and Suiren, that has stuck by me without judgement or doubt. I thank you for that, but I also fear that we've grown apart."

"I suppose we have." You uttered, trying to ignore the clench in your chest.

"Even as children, we started to grow apart." He continued to observe.

Because of your mother. Because of her fear that you'd end up like him, like your father. That disgusting and vile man. How could she not know you'd never be like him?

There was a day, a very distinct day, that you and Jinshi had been separated for "his own good". Your birthday. You had waited him eagerly in the main courtyard, being able to slip away from your duties out of kindness from Suiren. You waited and waited, until Gaoshun had approached. His expression downtrodden and dark. He informed you that it was no longer proper for you to play around with the boy you so dearly adored. Said his mother commanded it.

If he plays with a toy too much, take it from him.

You used to be bitter, resentful, and angry over it. Only eight-years-old, you had clung onto any companionship you could and he had given the illusion that he'd be there forever. Until he wasn't. Until you were a toy to be tucked back into the chest, forever forgotten with time.

He would be there forever, but you only merely a pawn for him to use as he pleased. To do work and to never grace the same level as you had when you both were only children, not yet exposed to hierarchy. Pure and innocent.

Now, you were mere servant and master.

Finally, you willed yourself to pull away from his hold, turning around to pick through various hair products. "It's been a long time, Jinshi-sama. We're no longer children."

"Hm."

As you reached for a brush, he pressed against your back. His hands coming to rest against your own with a delicate, featherlike touch. He was suddenly surrounding your ever sense. His warmth enveloping you into a hug that was almost earth shattering. Your lips parted and your eyes wide, you tensed as his lips brushed against the top of your head.

"I think of you often," his words are a whisper against you and your eyes, if possible, widen further as you almost lean back into him. "I sometimes wish I could just reach out and...and hold you, like we used to. Is that so bad?"

"Jinshi-sama, this is rather inappropriate!" You whisper back, not daring to look back at him in fear for how quickly you'd crumble.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating from his chest into your back and sending various chills down your spine. "If I'm making you uncomfortable, then please, tell me."

You don't open your mouth, as much as you wished you would deter him, you were rather eager to keep this up for a moment longer. To have something to think about and something to cherish later. Surely, this wouldn't happen again.

Instead, your attention goes to keeping your heart steady as Jinshi gently turns you around. His eyes heavy as he stares at you earnestly, lips quirked up barely. Your hands came up to clutch his forearm, gently squeezing as he did the same with your shoulder. You felt your heart stammer and a sweat collecting on your brow, this was definitely something frowned upon. To be so close and to breathe his same air-- as he exhaled, you inhaled the rich oxygen.

Suddenly, Jinshi's eyebrows furrowed and his fingers reached out, gently tucking some hair from your face. "What did they teach you to make you tremble like this?" He whispered it to himself but, thanks to your proximity, you heard it.

It made your ears redden, your lips pressed together. Did he really not know?

Before you could even speak, the door to his room were opened. Both your heads snapped to the door where Maomao and Gaoshun stood, both varying degrees of expressions on their faces that brought shame to you both. The four of your frozen in your respective places, staring at one another dumbly. Your hold on your master slackened and Jinshi took that as a sign to move first.

Jinshi made a rather odd noise, jumping away from you, face red and wide awkward smile to the two at the door. "Did you find the goods?" He asked as he approached, nervous fingers moving about.

Maomao, bless her soul, decided to ignore whatever it was they had walked in on, moving forward with a bundle of things in her arms. "Yes, Jinshi-sama."

You nervously pulled yourself from the table, turning your back to the three, hoping to conceal the red hue on your face. You really, really, hoped that no one would say anything.

Your hopes were tarnished as Gaoshun stepped up beside you.

The man was family. He'd been there for every milestone, or the rather unruly years when you found yourself in trouble more often than not. You'd grown accustomed to reading into his expressions more than his words. He was more open there, his only weakness.

That's why you withered when you saw that aghast expression on his face. The glimmer in his eyes that said it all-- he knew what was happening.

You ducked your head at the same time you heard Maomao ask, "Why isn't your hair done?"

You mustn't get ideas above your station. You are there to serve your master. Nothing less, nothing more.

That is the first thing that they taught you when you were "of age".

You are to give your life to your master. Any inappropriate behavior will be punished, severely.

That's the second thing they taught you.

There were many things that contributed to your regression. That made you cower away from who you used to be. Going from a loud troublemaker to the polite, obedient lady that lived to serve her kind master.

But as you watched Jinshi, or more correctly, the Moonlight Goddess dance elegantly at the edge of the pond. As you witnessed the light hit just right an illuminate him in a way that would send even the most beautiful angel into a rage. You realized one thing.

You would never tell Jinshi of those things.

Someone as beautiful and perfect as him, untouched from the life that you lead, shouldn't be exposed to the things he confined you to.

All you could do was gaze upon the Moonlight Goddess, utter your most daunting praises and wants, and tuck it all away.

You mustn't get ideas above your station.

You were a lowly maid after all. Someone so dignified and beautiful wouldn't settle for you.

"My hair is still wet!" Jinshi's voice bounced off the walls, a scowl etched on his face.

You bowed your head as you entered, towel tucked in your arms. "I have a towel for you, Jinshi-sama."

As you ruffled his hair with the towel, watching his shoulders relaxed you thanked the Moonlight Goddess.

A coward like you would never belong with a Goddess like him.

[starryylies]

Hiii omg !! I love your writing smsm !! The way you write is so real and similar to the way that I do and I get way too self conscious to post so I made a blog separate from my old one for hopefully publishing stories !! Smut usually makes me uncomfortable but yours feels like it's happening between real people if that makes sense. Like some people write their stories and it never feels like people really say those things but I love your writing sm- 🫀

OMG HELLO!!! I’m so so so so so sorry for replying late, the last few days are hectic cuz of exams ahh my f the result showing :(

And like I think this is one of the best compliments I’ve received regarding my works. I often felt like I was pushing it or smtn cuz I don’t really have ‘experience’ like I’ve only fantasised or thought about it. so I always thought I was fucking up but this is one of the best thing ever, thank you so much

And I get wym when I read about Nsfw stuff I always feel uneasy, not because it’s badly written it’s because it seems so perfect.

From what I’ve learned from others regarding their real life experiences is that sex is not perfect apparently it’s very goofy many times cuz half the time you kinda fuck up but they say it’s ok.

Plus I guess I’ve always felt lacking or have insecurities regarding my body/looks so I try my best to insert the embarrassment/insecurity in my fics accompanied w/ praise. (It’s very self indulgent tbh)

And also I get it, even I get really self conscious like whenever i post all I can think of is how many likes or how many people will like it and all but I still do it anyways even if I think my post will not do well I still post cuz like if I won’t try I won’t know. And after I post I try (try: keyword) to keep my phone away so I don’t constantly check the amount of likes. This helps me I hope it can help u too but If it doesn’t it’s ok!! My chats are always open

So yea sorry for ranting but thank u so much and if anyone has smut suggestions pls do send. And like again thank you so much my day wasn’t that good hearing this made me feel so much better, you really don’t know how thankful I am to all of you guys who like my work.

THANK YOU TO ALL OF YOU GUYS AS WELL

And thank you I hope you have an awesome day 🩷

[katya-zamos]

✨ glittertrail sunday asks ✨

These are like 3 months worth of asks from @glittertrail that I’ve said I would answer but always forget to 😅 shout out to Sandra for making me use my brain for something fun 💕

Not a sunday ask but i did decide to get a haircut and make it everyone’s problem since i base my entire personality around my looks, is there something you’d like to do with your hair rn? how about something you have always wanted to do with it but couldn’t for whatever reason? More than anything I need a haircut. My curly folks out there know that you need to in order to give your curls some life. I would also loveeee to dye my hair anything other than brown. Maybe some highlights or whatever is in right now. I would like to see my hair lighter. 

Let’s take smells. What’s your favorite smell? What smell makes you feel most comfortable? Do you have a signature scent? My favorite smell is coffee but the one that makes me feel the most comfortable is the smell of sofrito. It reminds me of home and mom’s cooking and I just love that. I don’t think I have signature smell but my friends know if they want to get me something like a candle it has to be fresh and clean scented. 

If you were a bottle what kind of bottle would it be? Perfume? Wine? Medicine? How about a label? If said bottle had a warning label what would it say? Definitely a bottle of wine. I was a TJ’s the other day and I saw the pretties bottle ever. I almost got it just because it was pretty but I had enough wine at home already lol If it had a warning it would be something “Caution: The contents of bottle can make you extremely emotional.”

Do you have any goal you want to accomplish by the end of the summer? I guess getting back into working out. And by working out I mean 30 min walks around my neighborhood lol I am not a fitness girlie but I do want to get my body moving bc working from home can be too much sometimes. 

(Make believe question this week because i haven’t done one of these in a minute) You’re going on a journey. What kind of journey is it? Are you going on a mission? A holiday? Back home? How are you getting there? Train, car, flying cleaning appliance? What’s the journey like? What do you see on your way there? Do you meet someone interesting? Either a holiday or going back home. I’ve never travelled via train so that would be fun. I recently started driving and I hate it so no. I would like the journey to be quite and calm, looking at pretty scenery, taking a nap even. Meeting someone new during the travel journey? No but maybe once we get to the destination but who knows. 

It’s a long weekend here and sundays are for good music and doing sobremesa after having late meals with friends, would you tell me about a song that reminds you of a good memory? (and the memory if you are comfortable with that) or what do you feel like eating on this kind of sunday? I will accept zero judgement for what I am about to say but a song band that reminds me of a good memory is 1D. I have the best memories with my best friend and for sure they are playing in the background. My sundays are spent with my family and my mom cooks for us so anything she makes I’m a fan. It’s usually some time of rice dish with whatever she feels like doing with it. She’s the boss. 

What is your favorite compliment you’ve ever received? How about the most memorable? I love when people compliment my hair lmao but for most memorable I would say anything regarding my personality? 

“Suggest how you might resolve the staging difficulties inherent in a production of Ibsen’s Peer Gynt.” if you get the reference I’d love you forever, but it’s not the question for this week. Here it is: If you could change the way any movie/play/book was made, which one would you change? how?  I truly do not pay much attention to this lol I just watch things and either enjoy it or don’t. This would be a great question to ask @thatemotionalbitch 😂

Alright you get to pick amongst every kind of animal there is (mythological or real) as your companion. Call it familiar, call it a pet, what animal is it? Does it have powers? How would you name them? and kind of unrelated but if you happen to have had pets before, do you have a recurring theme when chosing names for them? I would choose like a dragon or big ass bird that can take me places and I would name it Matcha bc I imagine it being all shades of green. I’ve only had one pet and we named her after a liquor so maybe I would keep the liquoralcoholl theme. 

The sunday mood is, yet again, running away to start from scratch and opening a cafe, where is it located, what’s the general mood and music, and what drinks special is on the menu? (for those of you that weren’t here for the of original question, what would be your signature dish/snack served there?) I would like to have it in a small town on the country side or the complete opposite and have it near a beach. The vibes would be tropical with music blasting but not too loud. You can have a treat and also dance a little. The signature drink would be coquito based and we would have all sorts of delicious puertorican pastries oh my god 

[jdgo51]

DAILY DEVOTIONAL FOR DECEMBER 16, 2022

A Simple Note

By Tom Smith (Utah, USA)

READ 1 THESSALONIANS 5:9-15

"Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing."

1 THESSALONIANS 5:11 (NIV)

"Part of my job is introducing new computer software to travel agencies across the country. One software package was particularly complicated, and Emily, the training manager, was nervous about teaching it to our clients. Emily ended up doing a great job, so I wanted to show my appreciation. I wrote her a note of thanks for her help and good work.

Two weeks later a handwritten letter from Emily arrived on my desk. Part of that note has remained clear in my mind: “I’ve worked here for over 15 years and no one has ever written me a personal note of appreciation like this. I was having a really bad day when your letter arrived, and it just picked me right up. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

I put the letter down, feeling humbled and thinking, How could a handwritten note that took me just a few minutes to write make such a big impact? And then I wondered why I wasn’t doing this more often if it could make such a difference.

Today’s reading from 1 Thessalonians urges us to encourage one another. It can be difficult to know when someone is struggling or needing encouragement. This exchange of thank-you notes showed me how even a small gesture of care can show God’s love." Be an encouragement. Tell people how they influence or impact you. Compliment a job well done and just boost up confidence with positive and not negative words. This can truly make a world of difference. It took this person 15 years of hard work to be praised. Now that is sad.

TODAY'S PRAYER

"Dear Lord, show us the people who need our encouragement so that we can share your love through our small acts of kindness today and every day. Amen."

1 Thessalonians 5:9-15

New International Version

"9 For God did not appoint us to suffer wrath but to receive salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ. 10 He died for us so that, whether we are awake or asleep, we may live together with him. 11 Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.

Final Instructions

12 Now we ask you, brothers and sisters, to acknowledge those who work hard among you, who care for you in the Lord and who admonish you. 13 Hold them in the highest regard in love because of their work. Live in peace with each other. 14 And we urge you, brothers and sisters, warn those who are idle and disruptive, encourage the disheartened, help the weak, be patient with everyone. 15 Make sure that nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always strive to do what is good for each other and for everyone else." Just give it your best and be the one who promotes positivity and hard work. What others do is very important to your journey. Encourage always. Life blesses us so much! Joe

[stargazerlillian]

To anyone who feels the desire to compare a friend’s/admired creator’s original character with an already existing character... don’t. This has been a PSA.

[yesimwriting]

The Needs of Pain

A/n as promised,,, here is my gift to you bc I finished ap gov today :))

The darkling x heartrender!reader story based on the whole ‘no one but me can hurt you’ thing :))

Warnings: sexual innuendos,, attempts to sexualize pain if you squint, kinda lemon-y

I kinda want to write a smutty part 2 let’s see lol 

Summary: after a training injury, Kirigan reveals how he views the dynamic of your relationship and figures out how to best help you work through the pian 

--

In an odd way, the most painful part of my injury had been the wound on my pride, not my shoulder. Though the pain that begins beneath my collarbone and continues down my left shoulder is not exactly pleasant. I can’t bring myself to pity myself too much as I stare at the extent of my burns. There’s a war going on. People die, people lose loved ones, I have to tolerate pain for an hour or two before a healer can be sent to be. 

I told Genya I’d be fine in the medical wing, but she insisted that I wait for a healer to be sent to me. The people here look up to me, if news of my injury got out, especially considering it’s a training wound, morale would take a blow we can’t currently afford. Genya had looked relatively sympathetic when she told me that many healers were occupied considering how difficult training had been and I had told her I could bear the weight. 

Now, in my room, staring at the basin full of water, I’m starting to regret my desire to be self sacrificing. I dip the towel in the water, squeezing out the excess before daring to dab the fabric on the outer edge of the wound. The feeling is fire against my skin all over again. An instinctual curse leaves me as I drop the towel on the counter that surrounds the basin. 

Arthur hadn’t meant it. I can still hear the frantic apologies tumbling from his full lips. He should have been more focused on the task at hand, he should have never stopped to look at me, at the way I could control so many living things at once. In some odd sense, his distraction had been a compliment. Many of the girls here would sell anything to have Arthur’s attention, even if it resulted in such a careless mistake. 

I grimace, picking up the towel and preparing to start again. I should at least clean it before the healers have to deal with both a physical injury and an infection. The sound of my door flying open and then shutting angrily is enough of a distraction for me to accidentally dab the towel against my skin too harshly. I curse again, turning my head towards the bathroom door. Did Genya exaggerate the severity of my wound? Are the healers that desperate to get to me? 

I turn on my toes, towel forgotten by the basen full of water as I approach the door that connects my room with the bathroom. “I’m--” Words meant to calm a frantic healer stick to the back of my throat as soon as I register all the black in the room. General Kirigan. Great. He no doubt heard about my injury after prying it from Genya and now he’s here to scold me for the childishness of it all. To be injured because a boy and I just couldn’t help ‘make eyes at each other’. All he does is insult my refusal to become bitter just because I was born possessing power. 

“You’re what?” His words are a different level of callous, darker than the shadows he creates with the will of his mind alone. “An idiot that let herself be sent back to her room instead of demanding to see a healer?” 

That’s an odd thing for him to focus his anger on. At least it’s not fully directed at me. On instinct, I half turn, attempting to hide my injury from his piercing eyes. My instinct tells me he should never see me so mortal. “Genya recommended it,” my words are determined yet calm, “It’s such a small injury it isn’t worth risking everyone’s morale. A healer will come here when one is available.” 

His face tightens in what must be some kind of disgusted disbelief. “Foolish girl--have you no instinct for preservation?” 

Every decision I’ve made since being injured made sense before he spoke to me. The fierceness of his voice leaves my face warmer than it was a moment ago and reminds me of the stem of my dislike for him. General Kirigan speaks and I am left a clumsy child. “Some things are more important than one’s self.” I expect he’ll turn that into something else to mock or belittle about me. “And it’s not a grave injury it’s barely--” 

The distance between us seemed so great less than a second ago, but he’s closed it so quickly, grabbing my left wrist and extending my arm forward so that I can’t hide anything from him. “You’re burned.” There’s the slightest bit of surprise coloring his words along with something else I can’t interpret. “How did you get burned?” 

Kirigan doesn’t know. My stomach knots, anticipating embarrassment. “Training incident--I was standing too close to an Inferni.” 

His grip on my arm tightens. I grimace as he pulls me forward with no regard for my injury. “Who?” The voracious way he says the word leaves my thoughts trembling. He is a void of darkness, starving for a victim to snuff the light out of.  

When my thoughts settle, I cannot bring myself to tell him the truth. “I didn’t see, I was distracted by the burning.” I exhale slowly, desperate to escape the flames behind his eyes the way I could not escape the fire of earlier. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve been injured worse in training.” His hold on my arm doesn’t loosen, I glance down at his hand, his firm grip on me somehow worse than the burn. “You’ve injured me worse in training.” 

“I may push you, exhaust you, and leave you mad--but I have never done anything that comes close to--that!” The last of his words carry themselves louder than the rest. 

If the skin of my shoulder wasn’t so sensitive I’d try fighting his tightening grasp. The accusation on my part had been a little much, but it was meant to serve as a reminder that he’s not one to care about my comfort or well being. “Why does it matter?” I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. “You’ve never cared about any of my injuries before.” 

Kirigan releases my arm in a stiff trance, raising his hand to brush his thumb down my cheek. The contact is reminiscent of an extremely different moment. “The first night here you only let a few tears escape you when you were convinced that no one could see them. Do you remember how I turned and wordlessly wiped them away?” His gesture had not been comforting then and it isn’t comforting now. He never wanted to comfort me, he wanted to assert some strange power over me. “I let those tears fall because they were because of me and I knew it was for the best.” I say nothing, letting his thumb ghost tears that will not come. “The moment I discovered you, what you could be, you became mine.” 

“I am no one’s.” The reaction is instinctual, a pride my mother instilled in me. My voice is too loud, too brash. “I am my own.” 

I brace myself for his anger, but all I receive is the slight relaxation of his lips. “It’s things like that give you so much potential in other ways.” His voice is a jagged rock caressing my skin, not minding the scrapes it leaves behind. “You’re a fair plaything, as well as useful.”  

He’s speaking so gently his voice borders on vulnerable. Something in me warms, but I can’t tell why. I know that Kirigan finds joy in my discomfort--why else would he belittle me so often? “The healer will be here soon.” 

“Yes,” he makes no move to leave, instead Kirigan grabs my wrist again, forcing me to turn so that he can analyze the extent of my burn, “Which is why I will ask you again…” I try to catch his gaze, but his stone stare is focused on my burned shoulder entirely. “Who did this?” 

“I told you.” He can never know. “It was a training accident.” 

“And someone is responsible.” 

I let out a breath, tired of feeling so incomplete. I just want to be healed and go to sleep. “Why does it matter?” His fingers trail up my arm patiently, my body betrays me by shivering. “Accidents happen, you’ve put me in more risk than--” 

“I’ve always intended to break you one way or another,” his voice is more supple than it’s ever been before, “Your goodness is too tempting to not tarnish.” He turns my wrist over easily, ignoring my slight wince. “But if someone else were to do it…” Kirigan trails off, expression tightening in a way I can’t read, “I don’t let others break my play things.” 

Some strange resolve in my chest cracks at that. “Kirigan--” 

“Who are you protecting?” He moves his free hand, placing it without reservation on my shoulder. “Not telling me will only make it worse.” 

Thoughts of Arthur paying for such a small mistake leaves my stomach rolling in guilt. “Make what worse?” 

His expression tightens again. I wait for some kind of rebuke. Kirigan’s lips part as if he expects to criticize my naivety, but instead of speaking he turns sharply. He doesn't release his grip on my wrist as he leads me into my bathroom. 

“What are you doing?” 

Kirigan ignores my surprise, releasing me to pick up the towel I was so quick to abandon. “If you’re too good to take a healer from someone, you should at least avoid infection.” 

“I’m not an idiot, I was cleaning it.” The sharpness of my tone is ignored, Kirigan simply places one hand on my forearm to keep me in place. “Wha--”

 He brushes his thumb over my pulse gently in an effective attempt to silence me. I part my lips in hopes of protesting, but something odd reflects across his eyes. It must be some trick of the light because his expression seems...hesitant. Maybe even concerned. And then cool fabric is pressed into my burn. I bite my tongue so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t bleed. 

“Saints.” 

His expression shifts to that of almost amusement. “I think I’d like to hear you curse in a,” he exhales softly, fingertips trailing up my forearm, “Slightly different scenario.” 

The shock of such a bold innuendo clears my mind from thoughts of pain. But the most startling thing is that the innuendo isn’t entirely unwanted. In the wake of my surprise, he presses the wet towel into my wound again. I fight against a grimace, but that doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirigan. Instead of mentioning it, his free arm touches my uninjured shoulder. For the first time since he’s come here I’m aware of how improper my attire is. I changed out of my starched kefta and into a silk nightgown in order to leave my shoulder unbothered. Genya had helped me change, bearing all of my grimacing and pained curses. 

I should push him off of me. Kirigan can get away with a lot because of his status, but I by no means have to allow something like this. I should not feel shy, I should not be embarrassed. He’s the one that’s out of line. I look up into his eyes, prepared to yell at him for being so out of line. But when I meet his eyes, I see something so un-monstrous I am left breathless. There’s a gentleness to the way he tilts his head downwards, eyes never leaving mine. Is he asking for permission? Permission to--to what? I stay frozen as his lips brush against the unmarred side of my collarbone. His touch is almost enough to make me forget pain ever existed. He pulls away enough that I can feel his breath against the base of my neck. Thoughts I’d never dare speak are banished as the towel presses against my skin again. My face cringes immediately, but he’s quick to press his lips to the base of my neck, lingering kisses melting into my skin. 

“I thought you said you were fine.” His chiding is half-hearted, whispered between two brief kisses against my bare ski. 

He dabs the towel on the burn again, but before I can think to complain, his lips are against my skin again. This time, his lips part slightly allowing his teeth to graze over my pulse. Kirigan pulls away slightly, expression hardening, “I’m almost sorry about this part.” His words leave him in a whisper as influential as sin. 

“What part?” My voice feels foreign in my throat. 

Kirigan doesn’t reply, but then I feel the sharpest pain yet. The towel is cleaning the worst of the burn, the ruined patch of skin that will never recover without supernatural intervention. The gasp I let out is that of a bird with shattered wings. A cry forms in the base of my throat, but before it can leave me, Kirigan’s teeth bite into the skin above my pulse. The pained sound is reduced by my shock, twisting in an odd combination of some kind of pained sound and something dangerously close to a moan. 

He releases me with one last soft brush of his lips, straightening his back and retracting the towel. “There.” Kirigan drops the towel onto the bathroom counter. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

I can still feel the ghost of his lips, tongue, and teeth against my skin. I understand now. Each kiss had been a way to distract me, to lessen the pain. Something odd swells in my chest as I try to will my eyes to stop watering in pain. 

Kirigan presses his lips together, pressing his hand against my cheek again. His thumb brushes the few stray tears that escape me. “Don’t cry,” his tone is pure velvet, “I won’t tolerate tears in your eyes caused by anyone else.” He tilts his head oddly, hand sliding down my cheek before gripping my jaw, “I can provide reason for your tears if you’d like.” 

Inhaling deeply, I continue to stare at him. Today has been so sudden. He’s flirted with me through strangely sexual insults and threats before, but never has he been so forward about it. 

“I’m fine,” I force my voice to remain clear. He nods once. A soft rap at my door has me turning away from him. “The healer--I shoul--” 

“Come in,” he calls, voice clear and leaving no room for argument. 

My eyes widen. To be caught with him here could be detrimental for my reputation. Kirigan pulls away, something sharp playing at his features, something almost humorous. 

He leaves the bathroom like this is his own room. “Her wound is clean, work quickly.” I walk out of the bathroom in a strange trance. Kirigan’s gaze lands on me as I enter the main part of my room, “I need her at her full strength for what I have planned.” 

There’s a heaviness to his words, a weight that tells me he means more than what his words imply. Goosebumps erupt across my skin as I try to banish the thoughts of his mouth against my skin between inflictions of pain, blending together to create the most intense sense of fight or flight I’ve ever experienced. 

Kirigan begins to approach the door to my room. “I’ll be checking on her later.”

--

People that asked to be tagged in this/expressed interest:

@luminous-99 @voyevoda-thejoy @voidmalfoy @i-padfootblack-things @all-art-is-quite-useless @buckverse @mandowh0re @uhanddreag  

@we-love-our-bandz 

[rqnvindr]

special delivery

pairing: delivery boy!albedo x gn!reader

genre: fluff, humor, pinch of suggestiveness

w.c: 1.5k

synopsis: it was getting harder and harder to resist the beautiful boy who always delivered your pizzas. especially when he notices the way you look at him, ever the observant one...

a/n: happy birthday chae !! @albehoe  i’m glad we met and i enjoy all of our talks in the server! welcome to being 19; hope you enjoy this little gift i put together for you hehe

--

the doorbell finally rings, snapping you out of mindlessly scrolling on your phone. you grab your wallet and hop off the couch, more than ready to receive your pizza order for dinner. 

you open the door and your brain immediately shuts down.

a young man, around the same age as you, stands before you and greets you with the most princely “good evening” ever. and if his voice wasn’t already enough to melt you, the red and black uniform looked like it was made just for him, complimenting his perfect skin and hair. that, along with his sparkling eyes was enough to convince you that he couldn’t possibly be real. you resist the urge to pinch yourself to check if you were dreaming.

“for (y/n), correct?” albedo, as you read on his name pin, snaps you out of your trance with his dreamy voice. it sounded even better when he said your name.

“yes.” you hand him the required amount of cash and take the box, brushing fingers ever so slightly. you offer the boy a smile, to which he nods in response.

albedo waves a gloved hand as he walks off of your porch. “have a good day.”

“thank you.” it sounded like the most appropriate choice of words at first, but you mentally curse yourself after he gets into the car and drives off.

you should’ve asked for his number, dammit. or at least told him to have a good day too.

what was supposed to be a perfect treat of an evening ended with you chastising yourself all throughout your meal. 

this was your chance. you were going to order another pizza at the end of this week and hope that albedo would be your delivery boy again. you would at least try to remember to make more conversation with him this time, before leading up to hinting that you wanted to get to know him better. 

you take a deep breath on the awaited day, when you answer the door. to your luck, it’s the exact same platinum-haired, blue-eyed mystery of a man who stole your heart within seconds.

“oh! good to see you again!” you sound a little too excited, and albedo appears perfectly unfazed. 

“good afternoon. that’ll be $10.” he holds up a packet when you hand him the fee, and you raise an eyebrow. “i also got you a free sample of our newest secret sauce. it’s not supposed to be out until next month, but i’m conducting some research for my university and wanted to get a head start on people’s opinions on the taste, the texture, if they could perhaps recognize any of the ingredients used to make it..” he clears his throat. “anyways, since you’re such a dedicated customer you’re the first on the list. let me know what you think next time.” 

“ah.” you lightly giggle at his rambling. he seemed very passionate about whatever field he was studying and determined to flesh out the best results for his research. you were the one who was nervous about keeping a conversation going when he seemed more than capable of doing so, as long as it was something he was acutely interested in. 

and most importantly: he planned on meeting you again. there would be a next time.

“may i ask what your major is?” 

“i’m a chemistry major. i was originally planning on doing biology, the study of life, but there is just as much essence of life in chemical reactions. taking two or more things to form a new substance...the embodiment of the life cycle itself.” 

you nod, feeling nearly as fascinated in his studies as he appears to be. you would love to hear more about it, perhaps sitting across from him at a cafe, dressed casually out of his work clothes...

“excuse me. i do not wish to take up too much of your time. enjoy your pizza.” 

“wait.” you call out, a fleeting sense of courage rising up, only for it to collapse once more when you catch yourself staring directly into albedo’s eyes. an endless ocean of curious orbs, their intensity making you feel seen right through, inside and out. 

“um, actually never mind. sorry, have a nice day!” albedo nods, scratching the back of his neck as he heads off. 

being unfathomably nervous and having a crush on someone farther than they appear was not a good mix.

--

you open the cabinet, ready to do some spring cleaning. your hand slips, accidentally knocking over an empty container. before you can pick it up, you notice a white packet that had been hidden underneath.

right. the sauce.

you hadn’t forgotten about it. you simply put it aside to try it out later with another food, just for a little adventure. but there was never any time to cook anything that would possibly go with an unknown condiment. 

or more like, no one to cook with.

you grab your phone and dial the number that you’ve pretty much memorized by now. you bite your lip while listening to the other line ring.

“hello, thank you for calling favonius pizza co. this is albedo, how may i help you?” 

“hi, albedo.” surely he’ll recognize your voice when he promised a next time, after all.

“oh, (y/n)? will it be the usual?” your stomach flutters from the way he perks up while saying your name. 

“no, but i’m so glad it’s you answering the phone. i actually wanted to talk to you regarding the sauce. um, do you mind maybe coming over when you get off from work and i can show you exactly what i wish to convey?”

this doesn’t feel right. asking someone you’ve only met twice over into your own house, just for the sake of your silly crush that led to silly little fantasies in your head-

“sounds good. it’s been really difficult gathering feedback from other customers, due to the lack of communication. and it also works out that i can see you in person so i don’t have to take up too much time during my shift. i’ll be there in an hour and a half or so.”

you stop gaping, realizing you have to confirm your meeting. “okay! take care and i’ll see you then!”

“bye.” with that, albedo hangs up.

you rush to set up the ingredients for your cooking, date, perhaps, with albedo. even if he didn’t think of you the same way that you did, you would always cherish him agreeing to spend time with you.

an hour passes by and he’s already promptly ringing the doorbell. you can’t help but feel your knees grow weak at the sight of him in his gray hoodie and light colored jeans, his hair uncovered without the cap. and his eyes glimmer differently, adding to the new feeling his casual attire grants the sight of albedo outside of work.

“hi! the kitchens right this way!” albedo takes off his shoes and follows you to the adjacent area, right to the counter.

“you seem to have gathered more than just the sauce. and you also didn’t order a pizza either.” he remarks placing a hand under his chin. 

“that’s because i wanted us to cook together and for you to see my reaction to it with other food. that’d add more variety to your results y’know?”

albedo continues to inspect the ingredients you had laid out for the chicken nuggets, picking up a jar of seasoning to smell it. “you’re definitely more invested in this than i expected you’d be.” he chuckles, the deep vibrations of his chest sending shivers down your spine.

“we shouldn’t have much of a problem if we’re doing this together, even though i’m not really the best at cooking. however there is one other thing i’ve realized...” albedo puts the jar down, turning to face you. he possesses the same observational look that he gave you the last time he delivered, and walks closer to you. the closing gap effectively cages you on the counter, your chests brushing against each other, making your breath hitch. 

“(y/n),” he hums. “were you really ordering pizza the last time? or were you ordering me, instead?” 

you want to reply, but any form of coherent speech dissipates in your throat. he’s so close, and normally you’d be embarrassed if someone was able to figure you out like this, yet you only found his curiosity and the way he pried into things even more attractive. especially if he had that kind of attitude towards you.

a sigh escapes your lips and you place a hand on his shoulder. “i like you albedo. and yes, i did only order pizza just because i wanted an excuse to see you. i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable, and if you don’t feel the same way feel free to leave and never speak to me again. i mean that.”

albedo remains silent for a few seconds before blinking slowly and shyly taking your hand.

“i’m not going anywhere. people who care about my work...are important to me. and i do admire your directness.” he lightly strokes your skin. 

“perhaps i should give you what you asked for in your special delivery then, hm?” albedo chuckles. you giggle while playing with his fingers. 

feeling a little bit bold, you press your lips to his digits, causing him to short circuit on the inside at your touch. 

“i shall enjoy it then.” you whisper.

[parchmentedpetrichor]

➳april’s fool ♡

in which fred weasley is in love with y/n l/n, the girl he happens to tease and insult profusely for her attention. 

fred weasley x gryffindor!fem!reader 

word count: ±4.3k 

tw: food, fireworks, pranking, fred being a bully, tad bits of swearing

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

ft. minnie, dumbledore and severus

yeah, your grandmama probably know me 

get more bottles, these bottles are lonely

it's a moment when I show up, got 'em sayin', "wow"

april’s fool 

“tomorrow is april fools,” dumbledore sighs. 

“you know what that means...?” mcgonagall asks, her voice on edge.

“the twins,” snape replies quickly, not even bothered one bit as he sips his dark coffee.

“and their pranks,” dumbledore dramatically rolls over in his armchair.

“okay and?” 

“they’re a hazard, severus!” mcgonagall replies.

“that doesn’t stop them.”

“what will stop them?” dumbledore ponders, eyes faint with interest. 

“you still have those weird buzzy fireworks right?” snape asks. 

“of course.”

“and minnie, you have the cake mix your grandmother gave you?”

“still in my cupboard next to the biscuits.”

“excellent.”

y/n l/n listens from the other side of the door, grinning. she’s been called to mcgonagall’s lavish office for some business she hopes isn’t trouble, but the conversation the three are deeply invested in piques her interest. 

she likes fun. the type of continuous laughter and uncontrollable fits of giggles at noon. that’s why she enjoys the pranks the twins play. they’re bold, sharp and reckless and have the undoubtable trademark of fred and george on them.

one too a many times she’s been on the receiving end of them. one time the twins had charmed the library so that she and other studious students could not find any books that they wanted or needed for a whole week. 

another time, her hair had been dyed bright pink. she wasn’t a fan of it, but tried her best to rock it. it worked. y/n had received many compliments on her bubblegum pink locks. 

she laughed it off a lot. whenever something quite embarrassing happened, it was usually funny. 

even the snide remarks the older twin always cast her way.

including the time he called her a blackhead. well, multiple times. 

“oi, l/n, looking like a blackhead.”

george had rolled his eyes at his brother before adding kindly, “at least you have nice hair. your tie’s always shiny too.”

she had just laughed, “at least i’ve got the blackhead looks to pull pink hair off, weasley, you can’t even pull off ginger hair, and thanks, georgie. love ya.”

fred had looked taken aback, but y/n still scowls at the memory. she gets she isn’t pretty, but there is a line you don’t cross when trying to insult someone.

he always calls her the most awful nicknames too; body parts that align with her name and random pieces of rubbish she isn’t bothered to remember.

she shakes herself of her thoughts and draws herself up, knocking thrice on the door lightly.

“come in,” mcgonagall’s calm tone beckons.

“good afternoon professors!” she chirps, smiling at all three.

they smile back. even snape. they’re big fans of the girl, who’s studious but mischievous. albus dumbledore has always thought that y/n’s eyes always look like all she’s seen is a beautiful sunset. 

“now you must wonder why i called you here,” mcgonagall starts.

“you see, how have you punished the weasley twins when they play all those pranks on you?” dumbledore eagerly asks. 

y/n gives a light laugh, “i just prank them back. i won’t get detention for this, right?” she jokes.

they laugh, “of course you will,” snape jokes back and for a second y/n is surprised that severus snape, the ever so cold potions professor, is cracking jokes. especially to her. 

“well then, i guess i can’t tell you how i prank them back then,” she drawls dramatically.

“no, no, do tell, we’re, what do you young people say?” mcgonagall pauses, “ahh yes! we’re all ears!”

y/n bursts out laughing, “okay, i usually do something that’s subtle enough but still very noticeable. they need to be anonymous too, or that’ll start prank wars and i’m only looking for short term pleasure really. one time, i dumped a whole bunch of polyjuice potion in both their little goblets. fred became george and george became fred. they were so confused.”

mcgonagall is impressed. 

“can you bake?” dumbledore asks and y/n shakes her head for a long time. 

“can’t bake for my sanity.”

“awesome. that is what i thought too,” dumbledore answers and y/n smiles. 

a single knock sounds. it’s proper and formal. 

“come in!” mcgonagall yells.

draco malfoy in all his glory steps into the room, eyes alight with concern, ever so indifferent. 

y/n knows him from quidditch. they’ve become relatively good friends, though she thinks he is very busy with his home life. she also knows that there’s more to him than the facade he has.

“afternoon,” he nods and gives a charming smile. 

“now, draco, i understand your mother had enrolled you in baking classes,” snape says. 

draco nods. 

“you must bake a cake,” mcgonagall hands him the cake mix.

she hands y/n the box of fireworks and winks. 

“good day professors! make sure to be at breakfast tomorrow!” y/n shouts, dragging draco with her to the kitchens. 

soon draco is laughing with y/n, at her atrocious puns and lightly placed jokes, finding himself very much happy. he’s not interested in her romantically, he simply enjoys her company. he’s even sharing some funny stories of his own too.

“...and i told him, to precisely fuck off.”

“so that’s how you deal with him!”

“oh no, he didn’t stop. he kept bugging me.”

“what did you do then?”

“i cast a muffliato charm on him.”

y/n bursts into laughter as they pass the gryffindor common room, quickly hiding the box of fireworks in her cloak as she spots two red heads quietly snickering by the fat lady. 

they notice the unlikely pair scurrying down the stairs. 

“hey, google eyes!” fred shouts. 

y/n doesn’t know fred well enough to decide if that greeting is dedicated to herself, so she continues upon her way. 

“weasley,” draco states. 

“huh?” y/n fakes oblivion. 

draco jerks his head in the way of the twins, where fred is smirking handsomely, leaning against the wall in a model-like fashion. 

george is shaking his head in dismay. 

“i said googly eyes!” fred shouts again.

y/n won’t lie, she thinks fred has undoubtedly good looks and his ginger hair is cute. he’s just a terrible person. to her, at least. she knows she’s biased, she’s often seen fred comforting ginny after a bad fight with a boyfriend, and from what she’s heard from alicia and angelina and katie, he’s funny too. 

she whips out her glasses and stares deadpan at him, before rolling her eyes and running with draco down the stairs, laughing like madmen.

they finish baking late at night, and waving her wand smartly over the cake, y/n produces a charm that will make the fireworks activate as soon as the cake is cut open. 

draco smiles as he pipes purple and orange roses, writing a ‘happy bday fred and george’ in chocolate letters. 

they add lots of sprinkles, hoping to seem like avid admirers of the twins. 

“does miss l/n and misters malfoy need any assistance?” a house elf asks.

draco just about opens his mouth to snap a ‘no’ when y/n gives him a silencing look.

“thank you rosemarie, but that is not needed, you are welcome to watch and talk with us though,” y/n politely answers, giving her a grin. 

the house elf sniffles, “miss l/n is too nice! rosemarie will make some hot chocolate for her! pretty hair!”

y/n laughs, “thank you very much, rosemarie. i think mister malfoy would also like some hot chocolate, with a tiny bit of firewhiskey, if that’s alright with you,” she winks at draco who just scoffs in reply. 

when they’re finished with the cake and the hot chocolate, y/n enters the gryffindor common room. angelina takes the cake and wraps it up in a box and nice wrapping paper. she sends it flying to the twins’ usual spot on the gryffindor table. 

“thanks angie!” y/n smiles, getting up from the cozy spot near the fire in the common room. 

“why are you going? we’re staying up till midnight for the twins’ birthday; wanna join?” angelina asks. 

y/n shakes her head, “i’m not too close with them, it seems like a rather intimate ceremony,” she keeps her words fluffy and light. really, she would join any birthday celebration, but she didn’t think she could handle the constant insults and annoying comments fred always made about her. and this would have been completely acceptable if she had done something to any one of the weasleys, but she hadn’t. she even regards ginny weasley as a little sister and was invited to one of ginny’s infamous slumber parties. okay, she might have a little crush on him for his joke-ish nature, but it’s nothing she can’t get over. he’s out of her league, for sure, she thinks. and terribly rude. she doesn’t understand why she still harbours those feelings for him. maybe because that time adrian pucey was mocking her for her ‘blood purity’ he stood up for her. or that time she hurt herself at quidditch and fred stayed up with her bandaging her wound. he cared when it mattered, she guesses. 

“i’m sure they would love you there.”

“fat chance,” she scoffs, “have a good night!”

she goes to her own dormitory up the stairs. she’s well known in gryffindor house, but for different reasons than the twins may be. although she’s close with angie and alicia, she’s not close with the twins. mainly because she’s always studying, playing quidditch, and doing prefect things. 

being on a quidditch team with fred weasley is bearable. mainly because she’s the captain. 

she’s stopped by a large hand on her shoulder. the owner of the hand swivels and suddenly a grinning fred is revealed. 

“where’re you going?” fred weasley’s annoying voice pronounces. 

“the sahara desert,” she snaps back dryly, “you’re in the way of my world exploration.”

“am i, really?”

“‘course,” she reigns her attitude in, “nice night, isn’t it?”

“for you? never.”

she scowls. fred watches in utter amusement as she takes a deep breath and charmingly smiles. 

“dearest freddie, will you please allow me to get to my dorm so i can have some sleep?”

fred’s heart skips a little at the nickname but shakes his head. 

“what’s the password?”

y/n sighs. “i don’t know. y/n is a blackhead. googly eyes. whatevers.”

fred lets out a loud laugh. y/n finds herself trying hard not to laugh with him. 

she turns around, ready to find her hufflepuff friend that has a spare bed in their dormitory, knowing fred is really stubborn.

“that’s not the password.”

“well, good night.” she walks off, before intensely diving in a style harry potter himself would be proud of, onto the stairs and running up the dorms laughing. 

fred stands at the bottom of the stairs, dumbfounded, his jaw hanging open. 

“close your mouth, flies will be caught,” he heard the giggling voice of y/n.

“close yours and you’ll look better,” he insults back. 

“oh shut up. we know i’m the prettier one. and that’s saying something.”

the next morning, fred and george wake up to presents, a rowdy common room, and a nice cake sitting waiting for them on the gryffindor table. 

for the first time, y/n takes a seat opposite them, her eyes alight with the familiar mischief they always held. she steals glances at the professors, who were beaming down with interest, as if they shared an inside joke. draco malfoy has an odd smirk on his pale face. 

all eyes are on them as they cut open the cake. with a bang, fireworks come flying out of the cake in all directions, sending crumbs and icing flying in the air and leaving soot on the twin’s faces. their ginger hair is covered neatly with white icing and the fireworks continue for a calamitous five minutes. everyone’s too busy laughing and trying to dodge the flying cake to see that y/n l/n and draco malfoy are laughing quietly in a corner together, both with spells like umbrellas. 

fred’s eyes, however, are trained on y/n, who’s rolling over in laughter. he quickly casts a scourgify on himself and george, and strides casually over to her and malfoy, the usual lazy smirk on his face as he hears ‘draco ohmygosh that was the best. your cake decos are on point! d’ya think he’ll ever bully me again?’. that confirms his suspicions. she did play this prank on him. and it makes him feel fuzzy inside.

his face then contorts into a frown. she thinks he bullies her? 

“i wouldn’t say he bullies you, y/n.”

he smiles. never mind.

“but it isss! i can assure you, there is absolutely nothing nice ‘bout being called a frame!”

fred snorts at the time y/n had been gushing adorably over a picture frame that was embellished with gold and bronze flowers to angelina. he had went over and in an attempt to catch her attention, said ‘you’re a frame’.

sure, he was good at flirting, but not to the girls he really really liked. 

“that’s fucking funny,” malfoy laughs. 

“oh shut it draco, your face is funny. but yeah, i should probably ask him to start fresh.”

he decides to interrupt their conversation. 

“ask who to start fresh?” he butts in. 

y/n doesn’t even look surprised, “in fact, you, fred, because i’m not really sure if i’ve done anything wrong to you or anything, and by my memory i don’t think i have and you keep being rude and stuff. if i have, i’m really sorry for it and i’m sorry that i hurt you and all. if we can y’know, start over, and maybe be friends?” she catches the unreadable look in fred’s eyes and hesitates, “or maybe not, that’s okay, we don’t need to!” she gives a small laugh, “er, sorry for ever bringing it up?”

the earnestness of her tone and the wistful look in her eyes makes fred fall a little harder. ever since he saw her nervously fiddling with her robes in first year, he’s been smitten. 

there’s a silence. malfoy has slipped off, the sneaky bastard. 

fred simply takes y/n’s hand, giving her a look as if to ask for permission. 

she swallows and nods. 

they’re in the courtyard, which is sunny and light. flowers are blooming everywhere. 

“can i kiss you?” fred asks.

y/n’s eyebrows go up. “what?”

“can i kiss you?” fred repeats patiently. 

“as in kiss? k-i-s-s?” y/n asks, eyes wide with suspicion and curiosity.

“yep,” he chuckles, “crazy, aren’t i?”

“yeah, you’re crazy.”

“really? can i kiss you?”

“i’ve never really kissed anyone.”

“i guessed that.”

her eyebrows furrowed in hurt, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i’ll tell you if you let me kiss you.”

“there better be a good reason because i was saving it for someone special.”

“i need a yes, love.”

she huffs, “yes.” she won’t tell him that she has a crush on him, because to be honest, she still isn’t sure if this is a prank or not.

she surprised when fred tilts her head up ever so gently, a smile on his face.

this kiss is short and sweet. he tastes like cinnamon.

when they’ve let go, fred notices the light pink dusted over her cheeks. he smirks. 

“you have to tell me why you thought i’ve never kissed anyone,” she said, eyes flashing in deep thought.

“such a beautiful person as you does not deserve kisses from anyone.”

“...” 

fred took this as a sign to go on. “the reason i’ve always teased you endlessly is because i want your attention. i didn’t think you’d give it to me any other way. if you haven’t noticed, i’m in love with you. i think you’re absolutely beautiful, both ways. i love it when you frown and get annoyed, even if you rarely do, i love it when you study so hard your face makes this really concentrated look. i love it especially when you laugh and smile and joke and play pranks. even if they’re on me.”

“...” she was studying his movements. inside her brain, a frenzy was going on. part of her brain- the ever so optimistic part, was screaming happily, and the logical part was using body language to analyse whether he was lying or not.

eyes? their honey brown colour was glistening with affection and truth, an expression so dainty on his face. 

a quaint little smile was on his lips, a small one, a genuine one. it was different to all the other smiles she’d seen him smile. 

he wasn’t acting, she decided. if he was, he should take up a job in broadway. 

“y/n?”

her brows were furrowed. she’d never been confessed to as genuinely as this before. 

if they started this type of relationship would he still be mean and insult her all the time?

“i-i need time. to figure this out.”

he doesn’t look disappointed, she thinks. instead he looks down at her with... adoration?

“of course, sweetness, anything, i’ll wait for you.”

she smiles, “thank you, freddie.” 

☆

it’s been a few days since fred’s confessed to her. she’s still unsure if he was joking or not. why?

at this moment, she’s watching him giggle with angelina johnson. it seems like he’s forgotten everything and anything. he’s gotten closer to her. maybe he’s lost feelings for y/n? she can’t blame angie, she’s a wonderful girl. if he likes her, that’s fine too. suddenly her feelings for him become very clear. she like-likes him. and it’s a bit too late.

but maybe he doesn’t like angie in that way? maybe he’s still into her? 

y/n knows molly weasley raises her children with patience. she should trust that fred’s waiting for her. 

but then again, she’s never gonna be as special as angie johnson. she’s just a ever so polite and outgoing nerd. someone who’s foolish enough to prank. angie’s smart, confident and funny and terribly patient. and effortlessly beautiful. she’s got the true gryffindor touch. and angie’s been one of fred’s best friends since day one. she’s always gonna be number 1. 

that’s ok. she’ll accept it. she likes angie anyway. it was probably a joke anyway. 

she couldn’t be jealous, just a bit dismayed that it wasn’t genuine. whatever, she thinks. we can just go back to how we were before. or not. 

and it’s relatively easy. they never really saw much of each other anyway. she’ll get over this tiny little liking. 

it’ll just be like normal. none of this happened. none of it. she grimaces bitterly, damning fred for his stupid games. should’ve known this was another of his pranks. but his acting though, certainly very good. 

she smiles to herself.

“knock it off, y/n, you’re here to learn, not to love.”

and that answer, is satisfactory. 

she gets up from her spot on the gryffindor table rather abruptly, saying goodbye to her friends, and makes her way to the kitchens. she knows she won’t be alone, she’ll talk to hansel and gretel, the twins that cook with the house elves every dinner.

they’re cleaning up as she walks in, book in hand. 

“hi hans, g!” she calls, as she rolls up the sleeves of her sweater to help them with the dishes. 

“y/n!” gretel gives her a hug with soapy arms and y/n giggles.

“how are both of you?” y/n asks. 

“good, good, potions though...” hansel trails off and they all laugh.

“potions is always like that,” y/n agrees, “it’s supposed to be really hard for newts, so you can’t really blame the subject.”

“i’m thinking of dropping divination,” gretel says.

“yeah, that’s wise, gretel buns,” hansel teases and gretel scowls. 

“divination is an easy subject, gretel, you just need to make random stuff up. i saw this weird bear thing in polly’s tea leaves, it wasn’t in the textbook. i told trelawney it was a symbol that a stranger would come and whip polly off her feet, with a whip the colour of the rarest german emeralds, leaving her absolutely smitten. i got full marks,” y/n laughs. 

they laugh too, and soon a light flowing conversation is shared over cups of hot chocolate. 

this is repeated for quite a few days and y/n even invites polly, marla and lenox, her best friends, to join. it’s a delicate, nice kind of week, one that suits her current struggles. 

when the weekends roll around, hansel and gretel suggest that they all sit at the hufflepuff table. they share jokes and quips over the food, y/n reading a book as she bites happily into apple pie.

“pfft,” her lips upturn ever so slightly at the quote that the character makes. 

fred watches her from the gryffindor table, utterly confused. y/n’s been avoiding him. he sees the flashes of hurt that run through her eyes whenever she sees him, and the quick grin that’s far too fake that follows. she’s been reading a lot more and he never sees her anymore. 

he wonders what he’s doing wrong. so as he sees her walking with her friends to hogsmeade, he calls for her. 

“y/n!”

her friends giggle as they see him, but she gives him a fleeting glance and raises her eyebrows at them, shaking her head, before profusely apologising to each one of them.

she approaches him warily, with all practicality in mind. she leads with her heart, but her head protects her. 

fool me once, shame on you.

fool me twice, shame on me.

“you’ve been avoiding me,” he states.

“what would you expect?” she snaps, “isn’t this all a good laugh for you anyway?”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you know what i mean, this was all a joke, wasn’t it? fooling my poor little heart which you know has a crush on you. my head simply won’t allow it. admit it, and we can both move on with our lives,” her tone is sharp and cold, her eyes burning with fury and hurt, “i may seem gullible, and i am,” she gave a short laugh, “but when i notice, don’t even try to lie.”

“this wasn’t a joke, love.”

“don’t call me that, and you and i both know it is. your acting though, absolutely superb!” 

“what makes you think this was a prank, y/n? you were the one who asked for time.”

“yes, and the time made me realise that i had feelings for you despite all the teasing AND the fact you couldn’t possibly be genuine!” y/n says exasperatedly, her fury dissolving quickly, “you looked so in place with angie and everyone that it’s so obviously some sort of fun thing you did to try to get back at me!”

“angie?”

“a-and everyone else.”

“angie?” fred’s eyes were amused.

“you know, angelina, as in johnson.”

“angie?”

y/n shrugs, “you did bring her to the yule ball last year.”

“angie??!!!” fred was full on smirking now, as if trying to receive a real response. 

“i think you like her, okay?! are we done here? i’d very much like a good book from f&b,” y/n sighs. 

“i’ll accompany you to flourish and botts. why would you think i like her? didn’t i just confess to you?”

“yeah but it seemed kinda...” y/n trails off, not wanting her insecurities to come off as compliment fishing, “kinda far-fetched.”

“meaning?” fred knows exactly what she means.

“you know!” 

“oh but i don’t,” he smiles innocently.

“well, you’re you!” 

“is that supposed to be an insult?” he asks, faking a look of hurt rather well as y/n looks alarmed. 

“no, no, as in, you’re nice to look at, and you’ve always insulted me and been so nice and cool to everyone. are you for real?”

“nice to look at?” a cocky grin is on his face now, much more noticeable than the slight blush that was creeping up his face.

“is that the only thing you could pick up?” 

“nice to look at? what’s up with me repeating myself today?”

y/n lets out an agitated sigh. he doesn’t know, he’s blunt and straightforward. she likes cushioning her words.

“y’know, handsome? good looking?”

“my middle names.” another smirk to conceal the blushing. 

y/n smiles. “of course, everyone knows it.”

it makes fred uncomfortable. her light tone is a bit menacing too. 

“only joking.”

“i’m sure everyone does know it, darling.”

y/n is too busy looking at the dog that passes by to hear him, rambling quietly to herself over the cute scottish terrier.

“sorry, what was that?”

“aren’t i cuter than the dog?”

“nup.”

“really?” fred casually slings an arm over y/n’s shoulders, having to stoop a little lower to reach her.

“i think so.”

“well i’ll tell you something love, i think you’re absolutely stunning.”

“some love potion you’re on.”

“uh huh, the love potion is called love, sweetness.”

“so you’re for real?”

“as real as you and me.”

“you’re cheesy. this isn’t a prank right?”

“not at all, i love you.”

“i-i don’t think i love you just yet, but i think it’s possible,” y/n bites her lip, anxiously awaiting his response.

she tilts her head to look at him. 

he’s beaming. he looks more handsome than ever, a sweet smile etched on his face as he looks down at her in utter adoration.

“you have a crush on me!” he pulls her into a hug and giggles like a little girl, kissing the top of her head.

she’s engulfed by the smell of burning wood and cinnamon and immediately feels safe in his strong arms. 

“how’d you say we go on a date? so i can show how sorry i am for all the times i called you googly eyes and played pranks on you.”

“i’ll check to see if the girls are okay with it,” y/n replies, turning her head to see her friends. they’re gone. 

“they are. i asked them to shoo off before i approached you. is that a yes?”

y/n nods, “of course, freddie.”

“i love you.”

she laughs, “you really are april’s fool.”

“i’m your april’s fool.” 

he buries his nose in the crook of her neck to stop her from seeing his blushing red face. 

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

⭐️SIRIUS⭐️

Prompt: Requested, by the beautiful @romanreignsgirl20 Thanks for your request, sweetheart. I made some slight plot adjustments (I hope you don’t mind❤️) and I hope you’ll like it how it turned out😉.

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Roman Reigns x Curvy/Thick Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, praise kink, body worship, bondage (shibari), oral sex (female receiving), food play, dom x sub dynamic, rough sex, delicate subjects regarding self image.

Editor: @rheacanbreakme

Tag: @ziasaph , @marlananicole , @akiko-tanaka , @wickedsunfire , @sassymox , @nicolewoo , @saccreigns , @mindofasagittaruis , @reigns-5sos , @auawdo , @lustyromantic , @babydee17 , @yungbludjazz360

Notes: This request has a special place in my heart now, people 🥺 Ok, so, why the title Sirius? You may ask, and I’ll tell you why: Sirius is the brightest star in Earth's night sky. The name means "glowing" in Greek — a fitting description, as only a few planets, the full moon and the International Space Station outshine this star. Later in the fic, you’ll realize why this little piece of information is valid for you 😉. Y’all know the drill, loves: You can check out my previous stories on my Masterlist if you’d like (it would make me your girl here very happy 🤗). Now, let’s get to the fun part, shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy...

Standing in front of the mirror, I stared at my newest acquisition: a light blue, mermaid style dress. Subconsciously, I couldn’t help but notice how it clung to every part of my body that I hated, and I instantly regretted purchasing it in the first place. I felt completely insecure about everything.

I heard the front door open, and Roman calling for me. Almost on instinct, I took the dress off with the intention of hiding it, but Roman was faster than I anticipated in making his way to our room, opening the door and catching me off guard, giving me no option but to try and hide the dress behind my back.

“Hey baby, what- Are you ok?” Roman asked, when he saw the frightened look on my face

“Sure” I lied

“What are you hiding back there?” He asked, curiously

“Nothing...” I trailed off

“Let me see it” He teased

“It’s nothing, really” I tried to dismiss him

Roman smirked and quickly ran towards me, yanking the piece of fabric out of my hands. He lifted the dress up in the air, almost as if to examine it closer

“Wow, this is really pretty” He complimented

“Ummm...thanks”

“Put it on for me” He said, smiling

“I-It didn’t fit” I lied once more

Roman raised an eyebrow in suspicion, asking

“Marissa, I could smell your perfume on the fabric, so I know you’ve tried on! What’s going on, babe? Why are you lying?”

“I...I don’t think it looks good on me” I murmured

“Can I know why?” He asked

“Because” I sighed “It shows everything I want to hide”

“Can you try it on for me, so I can give you my opinion?” Roman asked, softly

“Yeah, I guess so” I replied, taking the dress out of his hands, I made my way to the closet, so I could put it on without him watching.

Once I got the dress on, I went back to the bedroom, and Roman’s eyes instantly swam all over my body.

“Baby, fuck!” He gasped

“I know... I told you it looks weird-“

“Weird? Oh no no no, sugarplum, you look stunning!” Roman said in awe

“No, it’s we-“

“Mari, baby girl” Roman walked towards me, and placed one hand on my cheek “You look fucking gorgeous, baby! Why do you think it doesn’t look good on you?”

Trying my best to hide my insecurities, I shook my head and try to change the subject

“So, how was lunch with Jey?”

“Oh no, baby. We’re not going down that path, not until you tell me the truth” Roman softly pulled me towards the full length mirror, placed us in front of it, and asked

“Mari, what do you see when you look in the mirror?”

“Myself, in a dress that doesn’t look good at all” I tried to joke, but Roman didn’t seem to like it

“I disagree with you. I see the complete opposite! I see a beautiful woman, who has no idea of how stunning she is and how gorgeous her body-“

“Is not and how this stupid dress puts on display everything I want to hide” I mumbled

“Mari, look at me” He lifted my chin up with two of his fingers, and locked our gaze together in the mirror

“Baby, you’re the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen! The dress looks ravishing on you, it compliments your body beautifully. The fact that you have so many curves is a plus to me! It always has been. Yes, I love you, but why do you think I invited you out for dinner in the first place?”

“Because you had nothing better to do?” I cackled, but Roman continued in a serious tone

“No. It was because I was attracted to you. Physically attracted, sexually attracted! If I’m being honest with you, I pictured us fucking from the first moment I laid eyes on you!” He said, and I looked at him in disbelief

“Oh, you don’t believe me?” He asked

“Ask Jey then! Or Jimmy, even Seth. They all caught me jerking off and moaning your name”

My eyes went wide, and my face went crimson red at the comments he made.

“What?” He chuckled “I’m only being honest!” Roman’s arms circled around my waist, as he asked

“You still don’t believe, do you?”

I sighed heavily “I’m sorry Ro, but I can’t-“

“Well, then you give me no option but show to you”

Roman slowly pulled the zipper down on the back of the dress, and let it slide down my body, becoming nothing but a pool of fabric around my ankles. Offering me his hand, he led us to our playroom in the basement. When we got there, he positioned me in the center of the room, and pressed a button on the wall that would make the hooks on the ceiling lower down. Roman went to hooks on the wall that held our collection of bondage ropes, and took the lavender jute rope in his hand.

He began to create an intricate pattern upon my skin with the lavender rope, twisting, turning and knotting the rope into a beautiful design. Roman passed the rope on the top and bottom of my breasts, followed by my upper arms, where he securely tied them together on my back and looped the rope around the ceiling hooks. He pressed the button on the wall once more, making the hooks rise, lifting me off of the floor. He lifted my legs up and bent them back, then passed the rope several times around each thigh and tied my ankles next to my thighs, leaving me spread open for him.

He stepped back to admire his work.

“Damn baby, you look so tempting” Roman bit his lips, came closer to me, and gave me an intense kiss “I’ll be right back” He whispered

A few minutes later, Roman returned with a heart shaped lollipop and the chocolate syrup we kept in the fridge. Positioning the large mirror with wheels in front of me, he said

“Today is going to be a special day for you, cupcake” Roman said, while standing behind me, looking at me through the mirror “You’re going to finally see yourself through my eyes. You’ll see everything that I see when I’m pleasuring you. You’ll see how beautiful you are, how perfect your body is, how much you turn me on” He leaned closer to my ear “And most importantly, you’ll see that there’s absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about! You should feel only pride to have such a beautiful face, body and soul” He kissed my hair “My perfect girl”

Roman leaned back, and grabbed the lollipop.

Taking off the wrapper, he placed the candy in front of my lips and said “Suck it”

I did as he said and began to suck on the lollipop, and while I did, our gaze locked in the mirror and I could see his eyes slowly turning darker and darker.

“That’s enough” Roman said, stopping me. And then, without breaking our gaze, he started to roam the candy all around my body: on my breasts and nipples, my soft belly, my hips, my thighs and finally my mound, where he began to circle my clit with the lollipop.

“Ever since we met, I always thought about how sweet you are. The way you’re so kind and loving to everybody, how you always have a word or touch to bring comfort to those who need it and how lucky I am to have the sweetest woman in the world” Roman turned around, until he was in front of me “And as time went by, I noticed how physically sweet you are too. Your skin tastes like apricots, your kisses are as inebriating as the finest liqueur and your juices” Roman knelt down in front of me “Taste as sweet as the purest honey” He leaned forward until he was mere inches away from my core “I want you to keep your eyes on the mirror, Mari. Don’t close your eyes, don’t turn your head to the other side, don’t look down! I want you to see yourself, how stunning you are and how beautiful you get when you cum. Do you understand me?” Roman asked, placing both hands on my hips

“Yes, sir” I answered, looking down at him

“Good, baby” He smiled “Now, look at the mirror” Roman whispered and began to work his magic on me. It was excruciatingly hard for me to stare at myself, but the more Roman licked and hummed in pleasure the more I could see how my facial expression changed. I became more wild, more raw, more passionate, more like a vixen. The woman I always wished to be was now in front of me, she had always been there, I just was never able to see her. But Roman showed me her, the woman I wanted to be, the woman he always knew I was.

“Do you see her, baby?” He asked softly, inserting two finger in me

“Yes, sir” I whispered, trying to hold back my tears

“This is who you are, this is what I see whenever I look at you! I don’t care what other people say or think, the only thing that matters to me is what I see and especially what you can see” Moving his fingers in and out, Roman began to kiss my soft belly and stretch marks “I want you to see how beautiful you are, how much I love your body. All of it!” He curled his fingers inside of me, making me moan loudly. And when his lips closed around my clit, I came all over him and Roman more than eargerly licked me clean. “I love every curve, every love handle, every inch of your beautiful body” He said, making his way up, licking every sticky trace left by the lollipop. Roman kissed my breasts, played with my nipples with his tongue, left love marks on my neck and then he finally reached my lips and kissed me like it was the last time we would be together.

Leaning back, he took the chocolate syrup in his hand and said “Don’t look down yet”.

He began to write something on my belly and chest, but I had no idea what it was until he stepped aside, revealing the mirror once more so I could read what he wrote.

“Read it out loud for me, Mari” Roman said

“Beautiful and perfect. Sir” I shyly read

“Louder” He requested

“Beautiful and perfect. Sir”

“Again, louder” He asked and so I did

“What are you, baby?” Roman questioned

“Beautiful and perfect, sir”

“And what should you never forget that you are?” He asked

“Beautiful and perfect, sir” I responded with my voice strangled by tears

Roman knelt down again, and started to lick the chocolate syrup off. His tongue traced every letter, as to remind me of it. He didn’t licked everything off though, he left some remnants, so I could continue to see it and read it in the mirror.

“That’s my girl” Roman smiled softly, with his eyes full of love, and I couldn’t help but let the tears roll down my cheeks “It’s alright, sugarplum” He cood, kissing me sweetly. Once I stopped crying he turned around, so he could stand behind me again.

He grabbed the chocolate syrup once more, and wrote something on my ass cheeks, I payed attention to each letter. When he was done, he asked

“Mari, can you guess what I have written?” With a wicked grin on his face

“I think so, sir”

“What is it, baby?”

“Is it ‘mine’, sir?”

Roman chuckled and knelt down, tracing the letters as he did previously, but only this time he bit my ass cheek forcefully before standing up

“That’s right, cupcake. ‘Mine’ “

I looked in the mirror and saw he had pushed his jeans down, to his upper thighs. Right afterwards, I felt his tip against my entrance

“Remember to keep your eyes on the mirror, sugarplum” He winked, sliding in, slowly. The position that my body was in allowed me to feel him deeper, stretching my walls in a bitter sweet pain.

“Oh my-” I moaned

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good. So fucking good” He groaned, thrusting in me vigorously

We moaned in sync, looking at each other in the mirror, drowning in our grunts and gasps of pleasure.

My walls began to tighten around his length “You’re gonna cum, baby?” Roman bit my ear

“Yes, sir” I gasped, already feeling my orgasm rising

“Then cum, baby. Cum around my cock” Roman said, as he pounded even harder

I squealed, squeezing his length and triggering his own orgasm. Roman slid out of me, and admired his seed dripping out of my core.

“I love you” He said, looking in the mirror

“My beautiful Sirius” Roman smiled widely...

Please if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

[kojinnie]

Why you should NOT date AOT boys... (2)

I advised you but you still didn’t listen just because your fave was not on the first part. So hereby I present to you, reasons why these boys will only give you headache, part two!

Enjoy my lovelies, and stop hurting yourself with these men!

Regards,

Your ever-so-concerned friend, Kojin.

erwin - zeke - jean - connie

part one here (levi - eren - armin - reiner)

— ERWIN

This is not gonna be easy. You’re dealing with a man who has received multitude of achievements and recognition for being who he is and for doing things his own way, so obviously he is at that point in his life where he’s very comfortable in being who he already is. It’s all for a reason though, for Erwin oozes a certain kind of authority that is justified by his sharp thinking and years of experience. He is a self-made man and his success was the work of nobody but his own doing. So obviously, he has this uncanny self-assurance that is not easy to be dissuaded. He is ”The Man” character you hear about in pop songs and movies, and alike to dating Levi, the idea of being with Erwin gives you a sense of pride, you’ll be the most flattered whenever you hear people look at you with certain kind of acknowledgment, “Oh, that’s the one Erwin chooses.”

If you have problem with your self-esteem or you constantly doubt yourself, being with Erwin –especially when you have an established relationship— can really encourage you, to make you realize that there is a great thing in you, that even someone with the caliber of Erwin Smith can see. However, this may also lead to a bad thing because little by little, whether you realize it or not, your identity will be blurred with the constant presence of Erwin around you, simply because he has that magnificence in him that lures the limelight in, and your name will only be left as a prop to better dress the mannequin. This is a man who hardly ever hears “no” in his life, although he will never be violent or do things against your wish, it feels natural for him to always have a say in whatever you do. From the way you dress, your career trajectory, to decision for everyday chore. You would often feel as if you have no room to grow on your own because everything is decided by Erwin, where your opinion is dismissed. The most infuriating aspect of Erwin is that he will do all the aforementioned in such a sweet way. Caressing your cheek, patting your head softly before condescendingly says things like: “Honey, if you’ve seen what I’ve seen, you’ll understand. So for now, let’s just go with [insert his decision], okay?”

The ideal relationship for you and Erwin is if you have been with him since the get-go, before he made a name for himself. The good thing about Erwin is that he values nurture and he will show the utmost gratitude to whomever stood by him since day one. He will flaunt you, mention your name in every awarding speech, praise your perseverance for staying with him while actively making your own mark in your job. Basically, to survive a healthy and thriving romantic relationship with Erwin, you gotta see the quality in him before all the flashy titles, and you gotta be at similar degree of excellence with him. You gotta have his respect, you gotta make a name for yourself, only then he will listen to you and treat you as equal. So if you are still unsure about yourself, and you need constant reassurance about your role in this world, don’t go for Erwin, it will only exacerbate your self-doubt.

— ZEKE

Good god, this man. Where do I start? Okay, so you’re dealing with someone similar to Erwin, who enjoys a point in his life where his professional excellence has been widely established, he even has attained an almost mythical status. Remember how much the Warriors look up to him, saying things like “The enemies are no match to Zeke”? That’s basically his everyday life, and he has gotten so used to hearing that drilled into his ears for years.

For sure, he has a solid self-assurance; he knows what he wants, he knows how to get it, and anyone’s opinion holds very little value to him. But unlike Erwin, Zeke has grown sick of the compliment and has come to think that people are just licking his ass. This is because he made his success with little to no help from anyone else, and he has seen how differently people treated him back when he was just a nameless guy, compared to now, where he has made a name for himself. This experience, created a contradiction in his personality: One, the confident and self-assured Zeke, where he realizes that he’s smarter than most people, and; Two, the self-doubting Zeke, thinking that he is deemed as smart just because everyone comparable to him is stupid. He fears that it’s only until he meets someone smarter than him, before people finally realize that he’s a fraud. He’s the type to spew seemingly condescending remarks in a very casual way, like whenever someone comes to him in an awe and asks how does he do the things he does, he will just shrug it off and say, “I don’t know why everyone’s making a big deal out of that. It’s so easy.” When actually it’s just him, displaying his incomprehension on what make people think that he’s amazing when he hardly sees it.

Zeke leads a life where he thinks he can do whatever he wants, since he does not have a care in the world for anyone’s opinion and validation. This is because Zeke thinks either they are unworthy of his attention, or any person who has ever shown any interest towards him was only after something for themselves. In his early life, Zeke gets used a lot by people he trusted, and so this resulted in him not believing that someone would come to him and truly care for him with no pretense or hidden motives. The idea that he can be loved unconditionally is incredibly foreign, if not impossible to him. And this is the truth about him that he does not like to admit.

This is a person whose motto is to “enjoy things” because the enjoyment of things keeps him distracted from the disappointment he holds against people. So naturally, he does not like sentimental attachment, let alone committed relationship. What Zeke needs is just someone that he can ring up casually (and only occasionally because he’s always kept up with a lot of his professional endeavors), and spoil him with nearly childish affection. He likes to come home to someone who does not see him as this heroic figure that everybody sees, and rather just a careless kid who collects baseball cards with no active parent figure. He likes the cuddles, the kisses, the strokes, the lazy mornings where you pamper him like a demanding baby, because he never gets to experience such candid loving from his childhood, for he had to fend for himself since very young.

He likes to call you up late at night, with a sulk in his voice, “Baby can I come over…?” for you to act annoyed and reluctantly say yes to him. He likes that. He’s corny like that. But once he’s out the door, don’t expect him to text his whereabout or make your name known to the world, because he cannot afford such dire attachment. He’s as free as the bird, and after all, caging him into a committal relationship only justifies his belief that someone would only love him because they’re after something.

— JEAN

Jean is tenacity personified. He wasn’t born talented or lucky enough to have special heritage runs in his blood, he is flawed with a lot of shortcomings, but what makes him stands out is his capability to persevere in the eyes of adversity. To keep on trying although he does not pass the initial mark, and that’s exactly what makes him special. In dating Jean, you will never run out of things to do or talk about, because Jean will always try to make the best out of every situation with his resourcefulness. It’s very nourishing to see someone make such a big effort for you, and if you lack assurance that someone would go extra miles for you, then seeing Jean breaks his back trying to catch your smile is such a sight that you will cherish for a long time.

However, deep inside, Jean is a very exhausted man. He often feels like he is at the end of his wit trying to make everything works. He is deeply wearied by having to be at his top game every minute to compete, and fears that if his grasp slips even just a little, he will quickly fall behind everyone. This will result in Jean being torn apart between work and you, for he always has the urge to put tenfold effort to match others’ casual effort. So expect a lot of calls unanswered and rescheduled date nights during the weekdays. Although he feels extremely regretful with this condition, he also believes that there is nothing he can do, for he thinks he was born unfortunate and this is the effort he has to make due in order to catch up with the others.

All this unhealthy sense of urgency from always having the need to compete often sends Jean into a state of paranoia. He fears that people may team up against him, or that he’s being left out. It’s really frustrating to see Jean having the need to reply to a stupid meme Eren sends at 4 AM while getting high, just because Jean fears that if he does not reply immediately, he will wake up the next day with people already talking about the things he missed. He is always on guard, and as much as he tries to give in to his relationship with you, sometimes you would feel like his mind is not at home. His mind is out there wondering whether he will ever make a name for himself without being compared to people who exerts considerably less effort than him.

Being with Jean, you gotta understand where his fear lies, and you gotta be very calm when dealing with all of his paranoid urges. Whenever he’s not home because he overworks himself, don’t bombard him with calls and text messages, just give him time and welcome him home with warmth and a sense of ease. Be the person where he puts his hair down after a whole day of gruesome work. Jean needs a lot of validation especially from the person he loves (and he feels guilty towards for seemingly neglecting you over work), all he needs to hear is just “You did well today”, and he would be more than thankful. Make time as well to give him little surprise, to make him realizes that you are the one place he does not need to compete with anyone else for you are his home. When it comes to Jean, it’s about give and take, he doesn’t do well with a diva who demands attention 24/7, nor he does well with someone who is seemingly way over his league, for it will worsen his insecurity.

Point is, Jean is an amazing man, guys, I couldn’t really point out why you should NOT date him, because in fact, you SHOULD date him. Being with him is a learning curve, not only for you but also for him, to understand that in a relationship not only that you gotta love, but also to compromise.

— CONNIE

Connie, oh Connie. We all love Connie, he’s the guy who would complete a picture, a party is a bore without the sight of him, we all just love us some Connie, but often to his expense. People love Connie because he is outgoing, humble, and has this salt-of-the-earth persona, but more often than not, people also use him as a comedic relief, and although at first, he enjoys it because he would like the idea that people look forward to him, sometimes it also takes a toll in him, it makes Connie wonder whether he will ever be fit for bigger purpose other than someone else’s humor.

Connie thrives in being helpful to other people, he believes being of service is his greatest merit and thus he never complains whenever someone asks him to do something, nor does he ever dislike doing things for other people. But often he wonders even after all the great services he has done to other people, why haven’t people seen him as more than just a comedic relief? Why can’t he be the hero of a story, instead of just the people’s favorite side character? This thought lingers a lot in his mind, and if he does not find a way to let it out somehow, this may grow into a bitterness for he feels used.

Make no mistake though, Connie does not yearn to have the limelight on his own, he is content with his position, all he needs is a bit of credit and affirmation that he is as important his other peers. That he is not overlooked nor that he is expendable. Without this, Connie might grow to become resentful of people as he thinks they will only use him to their advantages. He will get easily jealous or at high alert, just because you passingly joke about Jean being handsome with his new haircut. He may go into that rabbit hole of anxiety, waiting until the day when you finally leave him for being mediocre and opt for his more attractive friend.

When this side of him comes out, initially he will be overtly self-deprecating. Masking it as a joke just to fish a reaction from you. If you laugh along, not knowing that it was a test, he will be sure that you are just using him and it won’t be long until you depart for someone with more load than him. Once he sets his mind, he can be quite vindictive to you, casually assuming you of the worst while trying to pass it as a joke. When this side of Connie comes out, the last thing you should do is to get riled up. Connie is not being rational, so you gotta be the adult here unfortunately. You gotta shower him with a lot of affection in the form of services like he’s always do to people around him, and slowly work your way to the topic you are meaning to ask. Connie might be alluding the question for a while, until he finally comes clean that he was jealous and did not know how to properly address this feeling.

Being with Connie comes with the responsibility of making a home for him where finally he gets to be the center attention. He is not a narcissist, so he does not want everything to center around him. All he wanna be is to be seen, in which every effort he has made to the people he loves are being outwardly recognized and thanked for. Little things would really make Connie happy, like posting a lot of photos with him on your social media, or arranging surprise birthday party with his co-workers where he can finally experience what it feels like to be the likes of Eren or Jean.

Thank you guys for all the likes, reblogs and comments - YOU ALL MAKE MY DAY. I was on the verge of being sure that no one would like things I write, but this.. This... (wails in telenovela style). I thank you and I wish you a great week ahead!

Guys for real if you still simp these guys even after this fair warning then I have no choice but to give you a personalized reason on why you should not date your fave AOT characters! 

> [CLOSED] Twisted Match-Up!  Send me three worst traits of yours + your AOT fave character and I’ll make you a short scenario on how shitty your relationship would be with them.  Fire away here!

[subbykboys]

the bad boy’s secret | chanyeol

↳ pairing : badboy!chanyeol x reader

Genre ➞ bad boy AU, fwb AU, college AU, smut

Warnings ➞ sub!chanyeol, dom!reader, bondage, oral (m. & f. receiving), edging, unprotected sex, riding, mild dirty talk, mild degrading, creampie, face riding, cum eating [ sorry not sorry ], reader is in denial , overuse of the word please

Word Count ➞ 8.2k

chanyeol is a bad boy with a nasty reputation. he’s sexy, mysterious, and entirely untouchable. well... to most people, that is. to you, on the other hand-- he’s something else entirely.

posted ; 6.04.20

there was an angry chill in the air. it bit at your face and hands as you strode to the campus lot where your car was parked. all around you, brightly colored leaves fell to the earth as strong gusts of wind broke them free of the branches they so weakly clung to. they blanketed the ground in shades of vibrant reds, tempting oranges, and dull, blotchy browns. 

it was actually really beautiful. you'd always been a fan of the cool undertones of fall. especially the reds. ugh, red was such a gorgeous color. practically everything you owned was red, or some varying shade of it. it was just so sexy and dangerous and— 

"(y/n)!" you were snapped from your inner thoughts by a barking voice. 

quickly, you averted your eyes from the ground and onto the face of the girl walking beside you. her name is Mina, you're pretty sure. you grimaced at her irritated expression, realizing you must have zoned out again. getting lost in your thoughts at inappropriate times was a pretty frequent occurrence for you. 

"huh?" 

she scoffed in disbelief, eyes narrowing, "where's your head at? i've been talking for a solid five minutes and i'm pretty sure you stopped listening six minutes ago."

you chuckled, scratching the back of your neck as an apologetic smile touched your lips, "sorry. i was just thinking about the leaves." 

"you're so weird." 

you didn't know why she felt comfortable saying that to you. you weren't even friends. at least, not by your standards. maybe acquaintances. maybe. 

and that was only because you happened to have the same afternoon photography class and just so happened to sit next to each other. you supposed in her pea sized brain that was enough to qualify for a friendship. but you had standards. and she was god damn rude. 

regardless, you didn't have the energy or patience to start any sort of altercation. so you shrug, head bobbing lazily in agreement. 

"i know."

that seemed to satisfy her as any remaining glimmer of annoyance was swept off her features with one last eye roll and replaced by a light grin, "whatever. hey, there's this party at my boyfriend's frat house tonight and you should totally come." 

"no thanks." was your swift, concise rejection. but of course, that was not enough to satisfy her. 

"what? why not?" her tone demanded an explanation that you really didn't feel like giving. 

sighing heavily, you kicked a pebble across the sidewalks. "parties aren't my thing." 

that was maybe half the truth. you actually did like parties. just not frat boy parties. they were like beacons for girls with low self esteem and insecure rich boys with superiority complexes. they were loud as fuck and made your head ache. not to mention they reeked. apparently, a lot of guys didn't learn in high school how to put on deodorant. your preference stood with more low key parties, with a more controlled number of attendees and some chill drinking. maybe getting a little baked if you were in that vibe. 

"you can be such a buzzkill," she groaned loudly, head rolling back as she stomped her foot childishly. you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. 

"i know." 

"do you ever just let yourself have a good time? like ever? we're in the prime of our lives for god’s sake!" and there she goes again with the 'prime of our lives' bullshit. please. maybe this was the best life would ever be for her, but you had other plans. 

"i have to finish an essay for my business class." no you didn't. 

"but it's friday! you have all weekend to finish it!" why was she trying to argue with you? you'd already said no, so why was she still trying to convince you. spoiler, you weren't about to change your mind anytime soon. 

"i prefer not to put work off until the very last minute." also a lie. 

"(y/n)," she whined, "come on, i personally think it would be pretty healthy for you not to spend another friday night pent up in that little apartment of yours—" 

all at once she was cut off by the distinct roaring of an engine. both your gazes shifted towards the road ahead of you, watching as a flashy red motorcycle came tearing down the street. an excited gasp exploded from your–barely–acquaintance's mouth while a low groan escaped yours. 

fantastic. just what you needed. your daily dose of—

"Yeolie!"

you winced as she squealed his name, waving energetically. you silent prayed he'd just keep going. but of course, he didn't. his bike came to a gradual halt in front of the sidewalk you stood on. it purred as he planted his feet securely on the cement. 

now this next part you could almost see happening in slow motion. 

he reached up with his leather glove clad hands, pulling off his sleek black helmet to reveal a pair of thick, pink lips, a sharp, defined nose, charcoal black eyes, and a head of silver locks. you could practically feel Mina swooning as he swung his head to the side, effectively flipping his hair like some kind of wannabe fetus Justin Bieber. it took less than a moment for those dark eyes to fall on the pair of you, and a slow smirk to crawl across his face. 

Mina immediately rushed up to him (all too energetically for someone who already has a boyfriend, mind you), squeaking out sweet greetings as her touchy hands found purchase on the sleeve of his leather jacket. 

what was up with him and the leather anyway? it was only on shockingly rare occasions that you witnessed him donning something other than his signature black leather outfit, decorated with silver zippers and complimented by a thick chain around his neck and a single silver earring. how much cheesier could he get? 

you'd think after high school, people would be over the whole 'bad boys are so hot' thing. 

apparently not. 

because at your uni, Park Chanyeol was hot shit. every girl and every guy wanted to get their hands on him in one way or another. he was dangerous, sexy, mysterious, hard to get. he rode a blood red motorcycle and smoked blunts behind the main building for god's sake. 

he was the definition of a cliche. but it seemed you were the only person that could see through his whole charade. 

"(y/n), don't be rude! come say hi to Yeolie!" Mina suddenly whipped around, waving you over. 

this bitch— 

the corner of your lip twitched in a subtle sneer, but, ever the pacifist, you obliged, slowly moving to stand at her side. his irritating smirk widened upon your approach, tongue swinging over the corner of his lip as his eyes dropped to do a brief once over. 

"Chanyeol," you grunted with a less than enthusiastic tone. 

"(y/n)," was his swift reply, voice as deep and smooth as ever, "wonderful seeing you again. you look as happy-go-lucky as ever." 

the sarcasm was palpable. 

"yeah well, it seems i just can't contain myself with you around," you bit back with just as much satire, lips curling dryly. 

"i'm flattered," he all but cooed, head tilting downward as his teeth latched onto his bottom lip. 

he stared boldly into your eyes, and you stared right back with just as much fire. 

"um... do you guys, like... know each other?" 

"no."

"yes."

you both responded simultaneously.

confusion plastered itself across her face, eyes jumping back and forth from your face to his. a taunting smile tugged at the corners of his lips, "we actually went to the same high school, isn't that right, (y/n)?" 

you huffed in annoyance, shoulders slumping, "yeah. we did."��

"and you never told me this because…?" 

because you weren't close in the least and you hadn't even told her when your birthday was let alone about your high school life. 

"didn't seem like important information." 

she gaped at you in disbelief, "anything regarding my Yeolie is important information!" 

was she trying to stroke his already colossal ego? if his head got any bigger, it might just explode.

Chanyeol’s grin broadened at her statement, and you silently groaned, knowing exactly what was coming before he even opened his mouth, "yeah, (y/n). anything regarding me is important information. so why didn't you tell her? trying to keep me all for yourself? how greedy of you." 

"please." you scoffed.

Mina glared at you sharply before plastering an innocent smile across her face and twirling a strand of her platinum blonde dyed hair. "ignore her, Yeolie. i was actually wondering if i'd be seeing you at Jake's party tonight?" 

"wasn't planning on it," he admitted, and Mina pouted, lips puckering, over dramatically whining in protest. suddenly, his eyes shifted to you, that stupid smirk touching his features,  "but maybe if a certain buzzkill was attending... i'd be more tempted to make an appearance." 

buzzkill? oh, you. 

"i'm not—"

"of course (y/n)'s coming! wouldn't be a party without her!" Mina rushed to cut you off, throwing an arm over your shoulder and yanking you into her side with a grip tight enough to bruise. you looked at her like she was crazy, brows furrowed, eyes wide, lip raised in a disgusted sneer. but her hold was enough to squeeze the air out of your lungs and steal away your ability to refute. 

Chanyeol’s brows jumped in surprise, an amused grin spreading across his face, "really?"

"wait, no—"

"yes! i was surprised when she agreed, too! but guess she's finally breaking out of her shell!" you were going to kick her ass if she kept cutting you off. 

"well isn't that great to hear." there was a mischievous flicker in his dark eyes, a look you knew all too well. 

"so... you'll come?" she asked hopefully.

"sure." you were annoyed at how easily he agreed. he was still smirking smugly as he began pulling his helmet back down over his head. shooting you a wink and a two fingered wave, he spoke again, "see ya tonight." 

with that final word, he was speeding off down the road, tires kicking up dust and pebbles as they spun. 

as soon as Mina's grip loosened from around you, you were ten feet away, swiftly walking in the direction of your car. "(y/n)! wait!" she cried out, running after you in her five inch heels. you didn't slow down in the least. 

"i'm not going, Mina," you said sternly, not even bothering to look back at her. 

"b–but i told Chanyeol—" 

"no." 

"please?"

"not. happening." 

⋄⋆⋄

you ended up going. 

not because you wanted to, of course. but because Mina decided it was necessary to show up at your apartment and quite literally drag you out. she was surprisingly strong for such a small person, and fiercely persistent. she'd even gone the extra mile of forcefully applying makeup to your eyelids and lips. that's not to say you didn't put up one hell of a fight. but conflict was never your strong suite, and you eventually ended up going pliant under her ministrations. 

unsurprisingly, it was just as you expected it to be. loud. stinky. and filled to the brim with horny bastards looking for a quick fuck. you'd been there for all of ten minutes and you'd already gotten your ass grabbed six times. slimy assholes think it's acceptable to touch someone without permission. all the more reason you didn't want to stick around for long. 

not to mention, Mina had ditched you the minute you walked in the door to suck faces with her fuckboy boyfriend. since then you'd been gravitating from room to room, searching for the best place to sit without being squished by a horny couple practically dry humping against you. 

luckily, you found your solace upstairs in an empty bedroom. the music was muffled the moment you shut the door, the stuffy air that smelled of sweat and marijuana also clearing out. finally, you could breathe. 

you spotted a candle and lighter on the bedside table, and quickly moved to light it. the dull, soothing glow that filled the room, splashing light across the walls made the headache that had begun to swell at your temples ease up. exhaling softly, you fell back onto the neatly made bed, body relaxing into the soft duvet. 

but of course, your moment of tranquility was short lasting. 

because before you could so much as shut your eyes, the door was opening, and a painfully familiar voice was purring, "there you are~ i've been looking all over for you, (y/n), you sly girl." 

"fucking hell," you growled under your breath, propping yourself up on your elbows to face him properly, "what do you want, Chanyeol?" 

he gently nudged the door shut behind him, before walking over to where you lay. "isn't it obvious?" he murmured, leaning forward to press his hands against the mattress on either side of your ankles. 

"spell it out for me." 

he chuckled softly, knees meeting the bedding as he began to crawl upwards, until his face was hovering over yours. even you couldn't deny how beautiful he looked up close, with those big, dark eyes, boyishly grinning lips, smooth, tan skin... 

"i," he began, nose nudging against your cheek, "want," his lips feathered over yours, "you." 

a dark chuckle rolled off your tongue as you met his hooded, lustful gaze. "you we're so greedy last time... and still... you couldn't get enough," you replied smoothly, voice deepening as your desire for him grew. 

"what can i say? i'm insatiable." 

you scoffed, the corners of your lips curling as you lifted your head slightly, leaving only the tiniest of spaces between your mouth, "i don't think you deserve it." your whisper caressed his lips all too temptingly. A chill rolled down his spine, eyes fluttering as he felt himself falter briefly. 

"maybe i don't... but i can earn it..." 

now that caught your interest. 

a smirk touched your features, "and how might you do that?" 

he bit his lip, trying his best to subdue a grin, "by doing whatever you ask of me." 

"you willing to take that risk? after that little stunt earlier? i might just decide not to go easy on you." your voice was taunting, but the challenge and threat were very real. 

"i can handle anything you give me." 

you raised a brow, amused by his naive confidence. then, in the blink of an eye, you had him underneath you, pinning his wrists to the mattress above his head. the action had been so sudden that he could only gasp in shock when his back collided with the bed. you stared down at him with dark eyes, the tip of your tongue sliding over the corner of your mouth. 

"you sure about that, big boy?" 

he inhaled deeply when your head lowered to the curve of his throat, lips just barely grazing over that sensitive spot. "most definitely." he let out breathlessly, eyes fluttering as he tilted his chin back, offering himself to you. something dark alighted in your eyes, a sinister gleam in your smirk as thoughts of how you could absolutely ruin him flooded your mind. 

"you're going to regret saying that." 

you didn’t offer him the opportunity to respond before your lips crashed down on his. he let out a muffled sound of surprise at the sudden action, but quickly relaxed beneath you, returning the kiss eagerly. 

see? you much preferred Chanyeol when he wasn’t running that big mouth of his. he was always so much more fun when he was choking on desperate moans and trembling uncontrollably under your touch. 

truth about the infamous Park Chanyeol? he was a bitch. 

in fact... he was your bitch. 

it started back in high school. when you were the chill girl who wasn't too well known by anyone outside of your friend group, and when he was the untouchable bad boy that everyone drooled over. 

to keep it to the point, you'd both attended a mutual friend's party your senior year, got wasted, and hooked up. 

but, it wasn't what you'd expected it to be. no, because you'd expect Chanyeol to be the kind of guy to pin a girl (or guy) down and dominate the fuck out of them. but the moment your voice took on an authoritative pitch, he was putty in your hands, whining and moaning and begging... it stirred something to life inside of you that you had no idea was there. 

and it was good. really good. so good, in fact, he came running back to you within the next week practically begging for more. and shit, you gave it to him. he was one of the first guys you'd dominated like that. it was empowering, controlling a guy as big as Chanyeol was. it was an addictive sensation. 

but you'd made it very clear from the beginning that it was going to be nothing more than sex. it wasn't romantic, you weren't friends, and you had no intention of getting to know him on a deeper level than his body. though, he seemed suspiciously intent on worming his way into your life one way or another. the boy was relentless. luckily, you were equally as stubborn. a match made in hell, aren’t you? what a spectacle. 

you drew away from the kiss at the feeling of his tongue prodding at your lips, a low whine following soon after. you scoffed softly at the sight of his pouting face, “so needy.” 

“you can only blame yourself.” he shot back easily, eyes already hooded and darkened with lust. excitement glimmered within them as you reached down between your bodies, fingers slowly undoing his belt. 

“is that right?” you murmured, not breaking eye contact for a single moment, a lazy smirk resting on your face. he swallowed, trembling pupils jumping noncommittally from your intense stare down to where you were making easy work of his belt buckle. 

“i— yes.” you don’t think he knew what he was saying yes to, his mind already becoming a muddled mess from the promise of what the night had in store for the two of you. his rationality had a nasty habit of hopping out the window whenever you got him in this position. 

“what are you hoping happens tonight, Chanyeol?” you asked softly, slowly pulling his belt from the first loop of his jeans. 

he swallowed thickly, head beginning to swing back and forth is slow swoops. “i– i don’t—” his voice broke off with a strangled whine as you allowed your fingertips to caress ever so gently over the ever growing tent in his pants. 

you raised a brow into a questioning arch, stifling a smirk of amusement at his already flustered state. “it’s a simple question.” 

his cheeks pinkened. “i just… want you.” it almost came out more as a question than a statement, words shy and hesitant. 

“want me to what?” you pressed. 

“to… to kiss me.” his gaze fell onto your lips, his own parting. 

“kiss you?” you repeated, tone on the verge of taunting. “asking for a lot there, aren’t you, sweetheart?” 

you were teasing him, but he didn’t seem to mind, blinking slowly as he dragged his tongue over the pink swell of his thick lower lip. “want you to touch me…” his voice lowered an octave, deep, lustful eyes looking up at you intensely. 

“where?” 

“everywhere.” he replied without missing a beat. “anywhere. just— just want your hands. or your mouth. i’ll take anything that you give me… but you already know that.” 

you really loved the sound of his voice when he got like this. it was softer than cotton and smoother than silk, rumbling so deep in his chest that you could almost mistake it for purring. it spilled off his lips like the thickest, sweetest honey, so lush and lovely, dripping with shameless desire. something about it was so soothing. and the sounds he made were even better, his guttural groans and melodic moans were nothing short of symphonies. and you were the conductor. 

chuckling, you smirked down at him. “you’re right. i do already know that.” he gasped as you suddenly yanked his belt completely free. “now be a good little bitch and grab onto the headboard.” 

he eagerly complied, capturing his lip between his teeth as he watched you bind his wrists above his head. his eyes slowly dragged over your face, drifting over the length of your neck, following the smooths swells of your chest beneath your black tank top. a low groan slid from his lips as you pressed your hips forward slightly, just barely grinding against his growing erection. his eyes snapped up at the sound of your soft laughter. 

“my eyes are up here, sweetheart.” you hummed, pulling his belt taught before looping it around one of the vertical wooden bars. 

“and beautiful eyes they are.” he grinned up at you in that boyishly charming way, shooting you a playful wink. you scoffed, hands drifting down to rest on his firm chest before one raised to grip his jaw, tilting his head upward. lowering your own head, you allowed your lips to caress teasingly over his. 

“maybe i should gag you, too. keep that pretty mouth in check,” you mused, dragging your thumb slowly over his full lips, “but unfortunately i think i enjoy the sound of your voice almost as much as you do. especially when you're moaning my name. god it’s so hot.” 

you almost growled as he took your finger into his mouth, moaning softly around it. you swooped down, swiftly replacing your finger with your lips. the kiss was deep, rough, and hungry. distracted by your weaponized tongue, he didn’t process that you were unbuttoning his jeans until they were being pushed down his thighs and your hand was gripping his arousal through his thin black boxers. 

“fuck, (y/n),” he groaned deeply into your mouth, arms gently tugging against their restraints. you dragged your lips away from his, face lowering so that you could suck your mark onto the expanse of his neck. he sighed blissfully, hot breath rushing over your ear as he subtly rolled his hips, body temperature rising steadily. you bit down on his collarbone, hands pushing up under his shirt to feel at his toned, well built torso. he was so hard, muscles rigid and protruding, so warm to the touch. 

it was rather amazing. a guy as big as Chanyeol, as strong and as confident, could easily get the upper hand over you if he wanted. he could flip you over and pin you down without so much as breaking a sweat. but he didn’t. he let you pin him down, tie him up, dominate him, mind and body. he allowed himself to submit to you, to be taken by you: slowly, quickly, roughly, gently, he didn’t care, but dammit he enjoyed every second of it. and if that didn’t give you a rush of power, then you don’t know what could. 

goosebumps rose across his honeyed skin as you pushed his shirt up to fully expose his tight body to your ravenous eyes, a chill rolling down his spine when you lowered your mouth to latch onto the smooth swell of his pectoral. he moaned quietly, back arching as you peppered kisses down his abdomen, slowly shifting lower, lower, lower… until your face was level with his bulge. 

a sound of excitement flooded past his lips, his breathing becoming rapid and deep. “really?” he asked hopefully, voice breathless and light. a slow smirk crawled across your lips and you chuckled at the way he jolted with a moan when you pressed a slow kiss to his clothed arousal. 

“really.” you hummed in confirmation. “you said you wanted my mouth, didn’t you?” 

he frantically bobbed his head. “yes. yes, god yes. please.” you almost laughed at his shameless display of desperation. he let out a deep, strained groan as you flicked your tongue over his clothed erection, head falling back. 

“ah ah, eyes on me, baby.” you scolded mildly, squeezing his thighs in warning. he lifted his head without argument, face flushed and glistening with faint perspiration, lip caught in a tight grip between his teeth, brows furrowed. 

from your viewpoint, he looked rather beautiful: arms bound above his head, exposed chest rising and falling dramatically with each deep breath, messy silver hair falling flawlessly over his hooded, lustful eyes. 

and he in turn was also quite taken by how perfect you looked between his legs: smirking lips hovering right over where he needed them most, dark, penetrating gaze making his body tremble with an unspoken need. 

your fingers slipped under the elastic of his boxers, slowly easing them down his thighs until his length sprang free. “there he is,” you murmured, tongue dragging over your lower lip as you admired him, long and thick and swollen, precum spilling over his hot, red tip. he shuddered in delight as you traced your finger over a vein. 

“(y/n)…” his usually deep voice was pleading and airy, hands curling into tight fists above his head, “please.” 

you smiled up at him innocently before delivering a teasing kitten lick to his sensitive tip. he whined softly, hips twitching as his need for you increased tenfold. 

a slightly more sadistic side of you rather enjoyed watching him squirm. perhaps it was that hidden part of you that wanted nothing more than to tease him into oblivion with insubstantial caresses and borderline torturous kisses until he was writhing helplessly and there were tears spilling from those beautiful big brown eyes. 

however, a larger part of you craved the sight of his stunning, fucked out expression. the one where his face glistened with sweat, thick pink lips swollen and red from being ruthlessly and relentlessly attacked by those pearly whites, puppy dog eyes hooded and fluttering, fighting to remain open against his mind's desire to just melt completely into the pleasure coursing like hot lava through his veins. that was the face you wanted to see more than anything. 

a broken moan flooded from his gaping mouth as you fastened your lips around his tip, the taste of his salty precum immediately lathering your tongue. he trembled as you hummed lightly around him, mouth silently forming the words ‘oh god’ as the vibrations sent sparks of pleasure shooting through his body like static shock. 

“feels good, (y/n),” he whined weakly, stomach tensing, “feels so good.” 

your response was to thrust your head down and as much of him into your mouth as possible. he cried out, hips snapping up at the feeling of your gentle sucking. you were quick to pin them back down, a warning glare darkening your gaze. 

“‘m sorry—,” he slurred, panting heavily, “i’m sorry.” he was quick to submit, fighting against the painfully strong urge to fuck himself up into your warm mouth and forcing his quivering body to go pliant beneath your ministrations. satisfied for the time being, you dragged your tongue from his base to his weeping head, tracing slow, taunting circles over his most sensitive place. 

a broken moan was all he could manage as his cock twitched tellingly, precum spilling down his throbbing length. you fixed your lips back around his tip, sucking gently. his thighs trembled at the sensation it sent shooting through his veins, a breathless ‘oh’ pulsing from his pink-bitten lips. 

“(y/n)— (y/n), if you keep doing that—” the warning was clear, but you wanted to see just how close you could bring him to his release before stealing it away last second. it was always fun to watch how hard he came down from his high when he was denied of it. it was delicious, the way he gasped and trembled, shuddering hips desperately seeking out more frictions, but never receiving it. he was so cute when he got like that. 

“you gonna come, baby?” you cooed, replacing your mouth with your hand and shifting upwards so that you could look directly into his eyes. you wanted to be able to see the look in his pretty brown eyes when you stole away his release. he whimpered, head bobbing rapidly as he caught his lower lip between his teeth. 

“please.” 

you only offered a low, contemplative hum before a wicked smirk struck your features. “not yet.” 

a sob broke from his lips as you drew away from his throbbing dick, his high stolen only moments before it could come crashing down over him. his hips bucked, desperately seeking the friction you so cruelly denied him of, but finding nothing but empty air in place of your warm touch. his muscles trembled, broken pleas spilling from his quivering lips. 

“(y-y/n), no— please,” he gasped out, arms tugging against the sturdy binds, fingers aching to touch you, grab onto you, hold you. 

you hushed him with sweet words, pressing a soothing kiss to the cut of his jaw, hands massaging the bulk of his muscular thighs and holding still his stuttering hips. 

“fuck– i hate it when you do that.” he cursed weakly, glassy eyes peering up into yours. 

“no you don’t.” you chuckled softly, brushing his damp bangs out of his face in an unexpectedly tender gesture. 

“you’re right, i don’t.” he relented easily, the corners of his lips curling subtly. 

a sudden silence fell over you, and it took you a moment to realize that he was looking at you with those eyes— the ones you knew all too well. the ones you’d told him plenty of times to drop. because those weren’t the kind of eyes you were supposed to look at a fuck buddy with. those weren’t the kind of eyes that just anybody could be on the receiving end of, most definitely not you. 

“don’t look at me like that.” you warned, hardening your expression. 

“i can’t help it.” he breathed. you felt your stomach twist. damnit. 

“then close ‘em, Park. before I decide to blindfold you, too.” 

it seemed your threat wasn’t very well received, as the smile adorning his features only expanded, the corners of his eyes crinkling endearingly. 

“that doesn’t sound too bad.” 

a dry laugh burst from your lips. “god, you’re so fucking submissive. how has nobody else untangled your little ruse, hm? acting all big and tough on the outside when all you really want is to be tied up and fucked like a horny little bitch. am i really the only one that’s got you figured out?” you hummed thoughtfully, tracing your fingers down his throat and caressing his collarbone. 

“you’re the only one, (y/n).” 

for some reason… you had a strange feeling that that sentence held more meaning than you were willing to decipher.  

“you tell all your little side fucks that?” you taunted, disguising the slight tremor in your chest with a dangerous smirk. 

he shook his head, gaze not wavering for a moment. “there’s no one else. only you.” 

fuck. you needed him to stop talking. so, you did the one thing that always did the trick: shoving your fingers down his throat. he let out a muffled sound of surprise at the unexpected intrusion, a sound that easily melted into a low moan, his tongue immediately getting to work lapping at your digits. 

“you talk too much.” you murmured, taking him off guard and eliciting a low groan from the back of his throat as you ground yourself down on his naked length. “you came to get fucked, didn’t you, sweetheart?” 

he eagerly nodded his head, hips nudging up excitedly against your own. 

“thought so.” you chuckled. 

through wide, glassy eyes, Chanyeol watched you push yourself upright, straddling his thighs. just as he was about to ask what you were doing, you grabbed the hem of your tank top and peeled it off over your head, discarding it onto the floor, your pants fast to follow. 

“fuck. you’re so beautiful.” he groaned deeply, ravenous gaze raking over your nearly naked form. you smirked at him cockily. 

“i know.” 

a surprised laugh erupted from his lips at your blunt reply, eyes glinting with something akin to admiration. “as you should.” 

smiling to yourself, you swiftly climbed back on top of him, not wasting any time before grabbing hold of his throbbing dick. he let out a breath of appreciation at the contact, biting at the inside of his cheek. every muscle in his body tightened as you teasingly traced his tip over your clothed heat, his precum slickening the thin fabric. 

“are you wet?” he asked weakly, voice so airy and strained that you almost missed it. 

grinning devilishly, you toyed with the elastic. “do you wanna find out?” 

“yes,” he all but hissed out, muscular arms straining against their secure restraints, “fuck— yes, please.” 

“mmm, you sound so hot when you're desperate to get fucked.” you groaned softly, nudging your underwear to the side in order to slip his head through your hot arousal. he shuddered at the sensation, his pupils blown wide with lust as he watched you tease not only him but yourself as well with fleeting caresses of his needy length against your burning core. 

“(y/n).” his deep voice had become little more than a breathless whimper singed with molten desire. you felt your pulse jump at the very sound of it, your own want for him swelling with every passing second. 

Chanyeol let out a broken gasp as you sunk down on him, cursing weakly as you took him in inch by inch. a low hum vibrated on your lips at the blissful stretch, hot tendrils of pleasure igniting throughout your body. 

“sometimes i forget just how good you feel inside of me.” you breathed out heavily, peering down at his already fucked out expression with a coy smirk. 

“i could never forget.” he moaned, roughly biting his lower lip. a slow, deep grind of your hips had his head of unruly silver locks tossed back into the plush pillows, an unsteady groan of your name filling the hot, heavy air surrounding you. 

“fuck, go faster.” 

he realized his mistake only when your fingers were pressing into the length of his throat, all motion ceased. “is that how you ask for things?” you asked, voice dangerously calm. 

he was quick to shake his head, eager to right his wrong. “please. please go faster.” 

“that’s better.” 

a rough sob is pulled from his flushed throat (which you’re almost certain will be raw tomorrow morning) as you fuck yourself down onto him. the pace was fast, hungry, rough. his back bowing off the mattress, hips pulsing upward, desperate to meet each thrust half way. 

“(y/n),” you almost moaned at the sight of his body rolling beneath yours, muscles flexed and trembling, toned arms straining against the tight hold of his belt, the leather biting pretty red marks into his wrists, “i wanna touch you— please let me touch you. let me feel you, baby. you know i can make you feel good.”

his begging caused a playful grin to draw itself across your face. “should i?” you murmured thoughtfully, rolling your hips in slow, controlled circles. a low, throaty moan vibrated in your chest as he thrust himself up inside of you, just barely brushing over that perfect little spot. 

“i can be so good for you. please… let me be good for you, (y/n).” 

“well when you say it like that…” you sighed, feeling any remaining resolve come crumbling down. 

excitement ignited in his dark eyes, and he watched with bated breath as you reached up, getting to work on freeing him from the binds. 

the very moment the belt fell slack, releasing his hands, they were on your skin, eager and impatient, tugging you down into a heated kiss. it was messy and rough, all biting teeth and lashing tongues. not that you minded much, it was always fun reminding him who was in charge, one way or another. 

his wandering hands eagerly explored the expanse of your body, squeezing, pressing, pulling. and you let him have his fun, let him push the limits, testing your boundaries with every curious prod and trembling caress. 

it was only when you felt his fingers pressing into the swells of your ass and begin guiding your movements that you drew the line. it took all of a few seconds for you to have his wrists pinned down on either side of his head. 

you pulled away from his lips was a disappointed sigh, tongue clicking. “still no restraint, i see? i’m disappointed. i thought you said you’d be good for me, yeolie? was that good?” he all but whimpered, his head, too muddled from pleasure to form coherent words, shaking remorsefully. “no… that was very bad. bad boy, yeolie.” 

his dick throbbed so hard inside of you that you could’ve sworn he’d almost just come. 

a scoff of both amazement and disbelief escaped your lips. “you like being called a bad boy?” 

how ironic. 

color flushed into his cheeks, embarrassment shining in his big, glassy eyes that were now refusing to meet your gaze. 

“look at me.” 

he gasped as you purposely clenched around him, thrusting your hips back until he was balls deep, successfully forcing his attention onto your face. you grabbed his chin securely between your thumb and forefinger, and lowered your head to the point where your lips were just barely brushing over his. his pupils were blown and trembling as they met yours. 

“you wanna be my bad boy, baby?” 

his jaw fell open, a thunderous moan breaking from his chest. 

“yes.” 

“say it.” you all but growled, tone leaving no room for argument. 

at this point, he was too lost in his own desire to feel any real shame. 

“i wanna be your bad boy.” 

a triumphant smirk curled onto your face, and you rewarded him with a gentle kiss to his quivering lips. “you gonna come for me, bad boy?” he was already bobbing his head frantically before you’d even fully gotten the question out. you chuckled sadistically at his unabashed desperation. “should i let you?” 

“(y/n), please— i don’t think i can— fuck.” he panted out, voice shuddering and breaking as you fucked yourself down on him at just the right pace to keep him teetering dangerously on the edge without completely throwing him over. you bit your lip, pleasure exploding like firecrackers in your veins as he thrusted into you. fuck, if he didn’t stop hitting that spot… 

his hands curled into tight fists where they were pinned to the mattress, dull nails biting smooth crescents into his palm. noticing this, you took it upon yourself to weave your fingers through his, holding his hands in an unexpectedly tender display. only because you didn’t want him to accidentally hurt himself… that was all. 

but, perhaps it was a mistake. 

because that look returned to his eyes with vengeance, his features melting into bursting admiration and unspoken emotion. this time, you ignored it, too gone in your own pleasure to spare it a second thought. that’s what you convinced yourself of, anyways. 

he was pulsing intensely against your slick walls, twitching cock threatening to erupt at any given second. you could tell he was fighting to hold himself back, the veins in his throat growing prominent from the strenuous effort. it was admirable in a way, how desperately he wanted to please you, even if it meant denying himself of the greatest pleasure of all. you’d encountered very few men with that kind of will power. so you couldn’t help but to respect it when you saw it in Chanyeol. 

“you look like you’re about to explode.” you taunted breathlessly, lips pulled into a lust hazed smirk. “it’d be cruel of me to tell you to hold it, wouldn’t it?” 

he whimpered helplessly, obviously not sure which answer would satisfy you and which would coax you into further torturing his already wrecked body. 

you offered a rasping chuckled. “you’re lucky that i’m feeling rather generous today.” 

something between a sob and a moan are thrown past his lips as you slam yourself down on him, purposefully squeezing your walls around him. he cries out your name desperately, imploringly. you know he can’t hold back anymore, no matter how hard he tries. his body was going to come whether he liked it or not. you felt in the way he throbbed and twitched inside of you, heard it in the way he groaned and sighed, saw it in the way his eyes rolled, body shuddering uncontrollably. 

“come.” 

and he fucking did. 

his body stalled, back arching off the bad, hips sputtering up in sharp, quick thrusts, the sound of skin on skin contact resonating through the room. you cooed, relishing in the way he quivered and keener beneath you, mouth gaping silently for a few moments before growling moans finally broke through, rumbling so deep in his chest you could have easily mistaken it for thunder. 

you let him fill you up, painting your walls with his release, knowing damn well your intentions once he was finished. 

“that’s it, baby…” you cooed, releasing one of his clenched fists to caress his feverish face, tracing the lower line of his plump lip, swollen and red from his relentless biting. 

“oh! look at that. you made a mess, sweetheart.” you purred, smirking wickedly as you watched his arousal drip out of you and onto his now half hard cock. he moaned at the sight, cursing under his breath. “I think it’s only right if you clean it up.” 

his eyes snapped up to meet yours, excitement immediately burning with his hazy, blown pupils. that was your boy… always eager to clean up after himself. especially if it meant he could put his tongue and lips to proper use. 

“fuck. ride my face. wanna taste you. wanna make you come.” he groaned breathlessly, freed hands reaching down to grip at your thighs, tugging at them impatiently. 

you chuckled at how eager he was, happily obliging. you climbed up, repositioning yourself to hover over his flushed face, caging his head between your thighs. his fingers pressed into your hips, pulling you down and into reach of his greedy tongue. you couldn’t help the sigh that slid from your lips at the first contact, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his tongue dragging hungrily through your come soaked folds. 

“that’s right. eat your come, baby. lick it up.” you breathed out heavily, fingers weaving through his damp silver locks. 

he moaned against you, the vibrations sending chills rolling down your spine. it was like white hot electricity in your veins when he rolled his flattened tongue cover your clit, a sharp moan erupting from your throat. 

“fuck, just like that. right there.” you panted, hips grinding down against his skilled tongue. “you’re so fucking good with your mouth, yeol.” his determination spiked at the praise, lips encircling your clit and sucking purposefully. 

pure euphoria rushed through your veins, head falling back as your grip on his hair tightened. his rapacious hands danced across your body, fingers pressing hotly into your skin, obviously not having learned his lesson the first time around. though, you weren’t too keen on correcting him. especially not with the fire his touch was igniting across your body. 

your hips stuttered as his tongue pressed inside of you, lapping at you hungrily. “tastes… so good…” he groaned brokenly against your arousal, hooded eyes devouring the sight of you falling apart above him. 

if there was one thing Park Chanyeol loved– it was being the cause of your pleasure. 

snagging your lip roughly between your teeth, you meet his searing gaze, your walls clenching around his invading tongue at the almost unbearable intensity of it. 

“you like it?” you moaned, feeling yourself begin to climb your way towards release. he nuzzled against you, nose pressing against your clit as his tongue teased your entrance. 

god… if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was trying to suffocate himself. knowing Chanyeol, he’d probably consider it the perfect way to go. perhaps you would have laughed at the thought had it not been for the molten pleasure numbing your mind and senses.

“i’m gonna come.” 

at your breathless declaration, Chanyeol is quickly replacing his tongue with two of his fingers, fucking them up into you steadily while his mouth gets to work on your clit. it feels so good… you’re numb to pretty much everything else but the feeling of him, the sight of him. 

and you find it’s just that that finally sends you tumbling over that ledge: the sight of those beautiful brown eyes, dark and eager, burning with unspoken emotion, pooling with crimson seduction. he’s breathtaking. 

you shift off of his face carefully, a hazy, satisfied smirk settling across your face. 

“what a filthy boy.” you purr softly, more so to yourself than him, delighting in the sight of his face, glistening from a mixture of both his and your own release. his lips curl upwards at the corners, sinful tongue peeking out to drag over them and savor the lingering taste of you, a low hum of appreciation rumbling deep in his chest.  

his hands don’t leave your hips as you carefully lift yourself off of him, offering some much needed support for your still shaky legs. you flop down on the mattress beside him with a soft ‘oof’ and shut your eyes, taking a moment to catch your breath and gather your scattered wits. a few moments of silence pass, before your brow twitched in irritation. 

“stop staring before i smack you.” even with your eyes closed, you can feel the heat of his gaze on the side of your face. 

he chuckled unabashedly, not all too torn up about being caught. “sorry. i can’t help myself,” he paused, “you’re just so beautiful like this.” 

sighing, you roll your head to the side, eyes fluttering open to meet his. “what’d i say about calling me beautiful?”  

he pouts, looking like a scolded puppy. “not to say it after sex.” 

“that’s right.”

“but it’s the truth!” 

“Chanyeol.” you groan, throwing an arm over your face. 

he huffs in annoyance rolling onto his side and propping his head up on his palm. “what’s so wrong with me saying that you're beautiful?” 

“you know exactly what’s wrong with it.” you grumble, shooting him a pointed glare, one he is quick to return. rolling your eyes, you turn away from him. “i’m too fucked out to try and argue with you right now so can you just drop it?”  

one of his arms snakes over your waist, and you inhaled sharply in surprise as he tugged you into his chest. 

“Chanyeol—”

he was quick to disregard your warning tone, nuzzling his face into your neck. “i like to cuddle.” 

“you know—” you began, scowling as he cut you off a second time. 

“i know what we agreed to but come on… a few minutes won’t kill you.” he grumbled, low voice raspy with exhaustion. 

the slight tightening of his hold around you told you that he had no intention of letting go any time soon. your features twisted into a scowl, eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. 

but your resolve to remain unphased wavered. 

because, for a moment, you let yourself feel the warmth of his body against yours, allowing yourself to melt into it. it was a strange sensation, the comfort it brought you… the security. perhaps it was the aftermath of your orgasm. or maybe the exhaustion from a stressful week. or maybe something else entirely… regardless, you found yourself relaxing into him, into his hold, into his warmth. it wasn’t something you could really control. and even if you could, you weren’t sure if you would do anything different. 

minutes passed. maybe two. maybe five. maybe twenty. you weren’t really sure. you could hear the muffled music still pumping through the speakers somewhere downstairs. dull footsteps and low voices passing outside the door every now and again. the soft glow from the still candle flickered soothingly over the pale walls. 

a strange sense of calm had settled over you at some point. you weren’t sure quite when. all you knew was that if you listened hard enough, you could almost hear the steady beating of Chanyeol’s heart. his breathing had become slow and heavy, warming the side of your face with every exhale. 

“are you…” you swallowed, throat unexpectedly dry, “are you asleep?” 

you were met with silence. 

sucking your lips into your mouth, you slowly turned your head. your heart faltered in your chest. “geez.” you muttered softly, a faint smile touching your lips. 

he was knocked out cold, cheek smooshed up against the pillow, lips parted and puckered out, hair cast across the white pillowcase, a few locks stuck on his eyelashes. you lifted your hand carefully, gently brushing the silver strands out of his face. your fingers lingered on his skin, caressing ever so lightly over his cheek and jaw. 

“beautiful.” 

it took you a moment to realize that that word had just come from your lips. you jerked away like you’d been stung, eyes wide, and heart suddenly racing. 

shit. 

you were so fucked.

[writingsoftheghost]

Caught Up In A(n Illogical) Bet

(Caught up in a bet, but with intruloceit this time)

Deintruality Version Here

Based on this prompt by @kawaiikat54

“Oh, that’s a brilliant idea, Logan! You’re so smart!”

Logan feels his face heat up, “Oh, uhm, thank you, Remus.”

Remus cackles, “Do you mind helping me with some other things? You’re the smartest person here so I wanna get your input.”

Logan’s blush darkens, “Y-Yes, of course. What do you need?”

*****

“Logan, could I borrow your expertise for a moment?” Janus asks when Logan emerges the common room.

“Of course, what can I do for you?”

“Do you think that perhaps my outfit may be a detriment to my goal of gaining acceptance?” Janus examines his capulet critically.

“Hm, I am not the best with emotional connotations, perhaps Patton would be better for—”

“No no,” Janus reaches out and grabs the logical side’s hand before he can turn away, Logan blushes at the unexpected contact, “You have a better understanding of psychology, Patton would merely tell me what I want to hear. You on the other hand tell me what I need to hear. I want your advice.”

“O-Oh, I see. Well, I am flattered that you think of me in such high regards,” Logan’s face is burning, why can’t he just take a compliment? “I think, perhaps, that your outfit has a ‘villainish’ flair due to Thomas’s obsession with cartoons and the way their villains look, but it also looks quite professional, and that has me quite fond of it. I think that maybe, in time, your look will come off as more charming than evil.”

Janus smiles at Logan, “That’s what I’ve been hoping. Thank you, Logan, you’re the best.”

Logan’s face fills with heat again, “Happy to help.” He rushes back to his room, hoping his blush wasn’t as noticeable as it felt.

*****

Janus and Remus discuss Logan’s reaction to positive comments that evening.

“He gets so flustered, hearing that calm of his falter is just perfect!” Remus laughs.

“I know, it’s quite endearing, to see him turn so red all because I thanked him.”

“Oh, that’s nothing, I told him he was smart and I thought he’s burst into flames!” Remus squeals.

“I touched his hand and I swear he needed a minute just to speak again,” Janus counters Remus’s bragging comment.

“Hm, you think you’re better than me, Jan?”

“All I’m saying is that I have a...certain charm with Logan that you simply can’t match.”

Remus scoffs, “Oh yeah? Bet you can’t back that up!”

Janus smirks, “Care to test me?”

Remus relays his idea to Janus, a bet, to see who can make Logan blush more in a week. If Remus loses, he has to take a bath. (“Why do you always bet that?!” “Because you never do it.”) if Janus wins, he makes Remus’s favorite dessert.

The bet began Sunday, it started off simple enough.

“Hey, Logie, how’s the prettiest nerd in the world doing?” Remus coos as he pokes his head around the doorway of Logan’s room.

“I—erm—hello, Remus,” Logan mumbles, his face down, trying and failing to hide the heat in his cheeks. “Can I help you?”

“I was just wondering if you could tell me some interesting ways someone could die in space?”

“Oh!” Logan’s eyes light up

“Well, there’s the obvious ones, lack of oxygen, freezing to death, and the pressure imbalance causing you to...”

Logan continues his list, Remus listens to all of them, asking questions on some. Seeing Logan’s eyes light up when he talks about space is an entirely different experience to Remus.

Later, Logan has a similar experience with Janus.

“Oh, Logan, darling?” The nickname causes an immediate flush of heat to Logan’s face. He turns around in the hallway.

“Yes, Janus?” He squeaks out, fighting to keep some of his composure.

“I was just wondering if you’d like to watch a documentary with me, it’s about psychology, and you’re the only one intelligent enough to appreciate it.”

Logan’s face, which had begun to cool down, quickly heated up again at that. “That-That’s, quite, nice of you to say.”

“I don’t mean it,” Janus says in that obviously lying way he has.

Logan smiles, “I would like to watch the documentary with you.”

*****

The slow start lasts only for the first day. Things quickly start to escalate, Janus starts complimenting Logan’s technique on everything. His posture, the way he folds laundry, just about everything he does. Remus asks for more facts, complimenting Logan on all he knows, and for being patient enough to answer his question. They also compliment Logan on his appearance, the way his hair falls, the light hitting his eyes just so, Janus calls him gorgeous, Remus calls him sexy. Each compliment gets Logan’s face redder than before.

By Wednesday they’ve started using physical touch to get Logan to blush. (Remus was given ground rules almost immediately, “Don’t make him blush like that Remus it doesn’t count”) Janus kisses Logan’s hand in greeting, (Logan squeaks the first time it happens) Remus holds Logan’s hand while he talks, they each play with his hair or stroke his calves while they watch tv. Logan doesn’t know what caused this sudden change to happen, but he found that he didn’t want it to stop.

No one had ever paid this much attention to him! Logan didn’t even know he’d been craving this until he’d had it! They asked for his opinion! And when he gave it they listened! It was all Logan wanted, and the added praise was so much better than Logan ever would’ve thought! The touching was a shock, Logan hadn’t realized how nice it could feel to have someone’s hand in his, or to have someone play with his hair, to have gentle arms wrap around him before going up to bed. To feel someone’s lips press against his forehead when he began to doze off whilst reading on the couch.

Logan tried to think of a reason for the sudden affection, but he was too distracted by how great it felt to receive it to do much investigating. By Friday he’d stopped being shocked when Remus told him he looked incredibly fuckable, or Janus calling him dashing.

Every time he sat down a hand would reach for him, or arms would be opened in invitation, and Logan would blush red and melt into the touch every single time. He’d grown to not only expect the displays, but to enjoy them. But I matter how common it became, Logan couldn’t help but blush each time.

The following Sunday, however, everything was different. When he came downstairs Janus merely said good morning, no comment on the way he’d done his hair. He’d opted for a different hair product, he’d taken to caring a bit more about looking nice since Remus and Janus had started complimenting him. Logan brushes it off, expecting Janus to call him beautiful every time they saw each other was illogical.

But...Remus didn’t say anything to him either, just waved to him on his way out of the kitchen. Logan brushed it off. It wasn’t like he could expect all of that attention to be constant, that was unfair to Janus and Remus. But as the day went on, neither one of them said anything to Logan. He even went so far as to initiate the affection. Sitting next to Remus on the couch while he read, hoping for Remus to wrap his arms around him, or even just hold his hand.

Remus did neither of those things, later Logan tried the same thing with Janus, he got a smile, but nothing else.

Logan began to worry that he’d done something wrong, but they didn’t act like they were angry with him. They spoke to him in the same tone, they didn’t avoid him when he entered the room.

Logan continued to wait, when he went to bed without so much as a hug from either side...he began to really fear he’d made a mistake.

The next day was the same, Logan tried everything, being extra helpful, sitting closer than he normally would on the couch, he’d even done his hair differently and worn a different tie in hopes of garnering some comments on his appearance.

None of that helped, Logan felt sick, he spent the next two days struggling to recall what he could’ve done to ruin it. He’d just discovered how wonderful affection could be, and now it was gone!

By Thursday night Logan has worked himself into a state of such distress that he found he was crying over the schedule he’d been working on. It was late, everyone else had gone to bed, but Logan couldn’t sleep. So he’d decided to be productive, he’d gone down to the kitchen to work at the table, but had ended up dwelling on the situation with Janus and Remus.

Remus entered the kitchen right as a sob rocked Logan’s body. Remus immediately rushed to his side.

“What’s wrong, Logie?” Remus asks worriedly.

Logan’s ashamed at how difficult it is to speak, he can barely get air in, let alone words out. He shouldn’t be crying, it was stupid for him to be crying over this.

“Hey, hey, breathe, baby. Come on, it’s alright.” Remus reaches out and rubs Logan’s back, starting to get really concerned. Logan never cried, and he’s rarely seen anyone cry this hard.

“I ap-apologize-ze,” Logan chokes out.

Remus shakes his head, “For what, Logie? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I-I shouldn’t be falling apart like this, especially over something so...so trivial,” he sighs.

Remus rubs his hand up and down Logan’s back again, leaving his hand resting there, “If it’s upset you this much I doubt it’s small, what happened, baby?”

Logan has just enough shame left to blush at the pet name and the softness with which Remus says it. “It really isn’t a big deal, Remus. I’m sorry to have bothered you with my illogical emotions.” He starts to leave.

“Uh-uh, come here,” Remus reaches for the logical side and pulls him back to the chair he was in, “Tell me what has your tie in a twist.”

“It’s ju-just th-at,” Logan takes a breath, hoping to stop the shake in his voice, Remus’s hand moves on his back again and Logan melts under the touch like he always has.

“Take your time, baby. It’s okay.”

Logan nods and takes another breath, “Did I do something to upset you?”

Remus blanches, “What?”

Logan looks away from the duke, “You and Janus seem to be, uhm, upset with me?”

Remus tugs Logan gently to his lap, Logan is still shaking a little and Remus is starting to worry that the force of holding back tears could make te nerd explode. He pushes the morbid image to the side and asks his next question carefully, “Why do you think that, Lo?”

Logan’s face flushes again, he’s beginning to feel foolish. He had been reading too much into it, and now Remus has seen him cry like a child.

“Lo? Come on, talk to me, you’re scaring me a little.”

Logan clears his throat, he tries to swallow his embarrassment, “Apologies, I—”

“Don’t apologize to me, Lo.”

“Er—anyway, I simply assumed that I’d done something to upset you and Janus, as you’ve stopped, uh...treating me in the manner you’d only recently adopted anyway. It’s illogical, my apolo—”

“Logan...” Logan stops talking, Remus looks like he’s in pain, “Is this because we stopped flirting with you?”

Logan’s face flushes a bright red, “I suppose so, forgive me, I merely—”

“Logan, I love to hear you talk but I’m really gonna need you to be quiet for a minute!” Remus cuts in. Logan shrinks, he must’ve really upset Remus now.

Remus feels Logan tense up in his lap, “No no no, hey hey, I’m not mad. Logie, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just that I—we—um...here let’s go get Janus and we’ll talk this out, okay? I’m so sorry, baby. This isn’t your fault, this is ours. I promise you didn’t do anything wrong.” He pulls Logan fully to his chest, holding him securely.

Logan fails to hold back another sob and just lie that he’s crying into Remus’s shoulder. “Oh, baby,” Remus whispers, “it’s alright, it’s gonna be alright.”

“Plea-please don’t let go, I can’t-I can’t,” Remus shushes him.

“I won’t let you go, baby. It’s alright, just breathe, sweetheart.” Remus rubs his back, Logan shakes in his arms, Remus picks him up, “Lets go get, Jan, m’kay?”

Logan nods into his shoulder.

They stop outside of Janus’s bedroom door, before Remus can knock though, Logan stops him. “It’s late,” he whispers to Remus, “We shouldn’t disturb him.”

“He’s still up, and we need to clear some things up. He needs to know what happened,” Remus reaches to knock again.

A pajama clad Janus appears in the doorway. “What do you want, Rem—”

He stops when he sees Logan.

“What’s wrong? Is he alright?”

Logan hides his face further in Remus’s shoulder. “I may have overreacted to—”

“No, Lo, no. I’m gonna explain because you won’t do it without blaming yourself for this.”

Logan lifts his head and looks indignantly at Remus, “But I—”

“Shh,” Remus turns to Janus, “We did something bad, Jan.”

Janus steps into his room, allowing Remus to enter. Remus sits down on the bed, he presses a kiss to Logan’s forehead before he explains what happened.

“Oh, oh, Logan, dearest. This is my fault, I should’ve realized this was a bad idea.”

Logan shakes his head, “It was all for a bet?”

Janus’s heart clenches, “Oh, darling, no. We really care about you, we shouldn’t have shown you just because of a bet. And we definitely shouldn’t have stopped. I’m so sorry.”

Logan nods sadly, “It’s alright, I’m just...glad you’re not mad at me.”

“Baby...” Remus brushes the nerd’s hair from his face, “Would it be alright if we went back to showing you affection?”

Logan’s eyes light up, “You would do that?”

Remus feels a twinge in his chest, “Yeah, baby. If we’d only known you wanted this, we would’ve been doing this long before our stupid bet.”

Janus reaches over and tugs Logan away from Remus and into his own arms, “I’m so sorry, darling. Would you like to stay with me tonight?”

Logan nods tiredly, “That would be...wonderful.”

Remus grins, “Can I stay too? I wanna show our Logie as much love as possible now that I know he likes it.”

Janus hums in agreement, quickly moving Logan to the center of the bed, where he and Remus quickly surround him in a hug, Logan yawns in between them. “Goodnight.”

They each press a kiss to his forehead, “Goodnight, Logan.”

—————

Taglist: @idont-freaking-know @aceawkwardunicorn @kawaiikat54 @emo--nightmaree @a-yeet-bop-bop-boom @me-a-mess-morelikelythanyouthink @katlikethesword

[pines-troz]

Weekend With The Warners Chapter One - Animaniacs & Pinky and The Brain

Summary: When the CEO tasks Pinky and the Brain with the important task of watching over the Warners for the weekend, Brain is prepared for any antics that the children have in store. What he didn’t take into account was forming a familial bond with the kids.

Word Count: 1,868

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849962

This is a found family story with a good combination of fluff, humor, and mild angst. Contains Brinky and Non-Binary Wakko

Beginning AN: This is probably the most self-indulgent story I’ve ever written

On a dark and stormy evening, a mysterious figure entered a castle that overlooked a provincial village. Deep inside the gothic estate’s stone walls, the figure snarled as he trudged up the winding stairs, leading to the top floor. He let out a vicious cry as he opened the large wooden doors to the laboratory. 

Dr. Brainenstein, the lord of the castle, stood behind his chemistry set, the glass beakers obscuring his face. Upon hearing the door open, he dropped his studies and gazed upon the visitor with an eager smile. 

“Ah, Pigor, you’ve returned!” Dr. Brainenstein greeted his assistant with a confident grin. The scientist emerged from his chemistry set to reveal himself. He wore a fancy black coat, a satin purple shirt underneath a white collared shirt, and black pants. 

The monstrous shadow revealed to be a lanky and chipper mouse wearing a brown hood and a muted yellow tunic. “‘Ello, Dr. Brainenstein!” Pigor replied merrily, waving to his boss. The mouse carried a large brown sack with something moving about. 

Dr. Brainenstein slid down the table leg and eagerly approached his assistant. “How was the graveyard scavenging?” He inquired menacingly, whilst rubbing his hands. 

Pigor strained as he carried the large sack with his findings. “Oh, brilliant!” He cheerily answered. “You know, you would be surprised what the dead leave lying around.” 

“By the way, I’ve probably been in here a thousand times, but I’m always amazed at how beautiful your castle is!” Pigor complimented. 

“Thank you, Pigor.” Dr. Brainenstein acknowledged. “I employed only the top masons. Those schooled in the latest techniques of wall-stone craft.” 

The scientist curtly shoved his assistant off to the side. “Now, let’s see what you brought me!” 

Dr. Brainenstein eagerly opened the sack, expecting a horde of body parts for his latest scientific experiment, but was surprised to see the Warner children. Yakko, Wakko, and Dot huddled together and smiled at the mouse. 

“Hi!” They chorused, but Wakko belched loudly, blowing the scientist’s fur and jacket backwards like a strong gust of wind. 

“Sorry.” Wakko apologized, their cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. 

At that moment, Pinky and The Brain broke character and started laughing. The Warners soon joined in, and the five rode out their bout of laughter together. 

“Oh, classic Wakko.” Brain sighed as he wiped a tear from his eye. 

Pinky went by Brain’s side and wrapped his arm around the smaller mouse’s shoulder and turned towards the camera. “You better add this to the blooper reels! Zort!”

But the primal yell from the director brought the joyous moment to a halt. The five actors immediately huddled together as they were about to face the wrath of the man in the director’s chair. 

“What is this?” The director irately shouted. 

“Hey, Wellesley! Hope you don’t mind the surprise cameo!” Yakko replied with a playful smile to humor the irascible filmmaker. 

“Yeah, we just wanted to give our favorite mice a surprise visit.” Dot explained as she gently patted their heads. Pinky contentedly closed his eyes and began tapping his foot a mile a minute upon receiving the girl’s affection. Brain, too, was endeared by the Warner sister’s pats and smiled at her. 

“So I ate all the potatoes and we hopped into this sack!” Wakko concluded, happily stimming by flapping their hands around. 

“But the script says for Pigor to carry a large sack of potatoes and have Dr. Brainenstein to open up the sack and be squished by a pile of potatoes!” Wellesley angrily explained. “Now can someone get those pesky kids out of here and get back to the scene!” 

But before any of the crew members could intercede, Brain stepped forward, taking a defiant stand against the director. “Forgive me if what I’m about to say comes off as a crushing blow to your fragile ego, but I wholeheartedly disagree with your creative vision.” Brain argued. “I say we should keep the Warners in the short.” 

The intelligent mouse quickly retrieved the script from his coat pocket. “And one other minor criticism I have with the script is that I find the ‘wall-stone-craft’ pun to be awfully misleading.” Brain added with a stern frown. “While Mary Wollstonecraft was an illustrious writer, she did not pen the classic gothic novel Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus. Her daughter, Mary Shelley, wrote the book that this segment is parodying.” 

“Hey, the studio isn’t paying you to be a walking history book.” The director fired back. “And besides, potatoes are very funny.” 

“Perhaps in Idaho, but having a cameo appearance from the Warners would be keeping in the comedic spirit of Animaniacs in regards to rapid-fire visual gags.” Brain argued. “The kids are staying in the short, and that’s final!” 

Unbeknownst to The Brain, the Warners smiled as they watched their fellow co-worker stand up for them and make a compelling case for their inclusion. 

Pinky then rushed over to Brain’s side and faced the director. “Can the Warners stay in the segment? Pretty please, Mr. Director?” Pinky pleaded, using his best puppy dog eyes and simpering pout. 

Wellesley rubbed his forehead and gave in. “Alright, we’ll use the Warners, but the ‘wall-stone-craft’ pun stays. Now can we get back to filming please!” 

Brain smugly smiled, satisfied with the compromise. He then turned to face his dearest co-star. “Well Pinky, it appears that my excellent debate skills and your irresistible cuteness have saved comedy yet again.” Brain complimented, ruffling the taller mouse’s head. Pinky relished the small and gentle display of affection from Brain. 

“Aww, I thought I was the cute one!” Wakko sadly interjected. Dot merely rolled her eyes at her sibling’s protest. 

“Places people!” The director yelled. 

“Come on, sibs.” Yakko said as he stood up. His younger sibling followed suit and the three pulled up the potato sack and hopped their way towards the door entrance. Pinky followed the Warners and Brain immediately returned to his place behind the laboratory equipment. 

-                      -                              -                      -                        -   

Filming the rest of the segment went smoothly for the mice. Brain was able to ad-lib his rant after seeing the Warners in the sack, comparing their cameo to ‘layman’s detritus’. The mice were able to strike up a friendly rapport with the actress who played Drusilla in between takes. They listened to her fascinating background starting out as an extra on daytime soaps before making the move to horror movies and acting with heavy special effects make-up. Brain also managed to work in some improvisation near the final scene where he almost smooched his assistant in an earnest attempt to comfort him, knowing that the viewers would have a field day with that moment. 

Once they wrapped up filming the segment, Pinky and The Brain collected their paychecks and made their way through the Warner movie lot, holding hands as they strolled through the studio together. After years of wrestling with his repressed emotions and attending many therapy sessions, Brain finally professed his love to Pinky, and Pinky happily reciprocated his romantic feelings to Brain. The two started their courtship four months before they received the news that they would be returning to Animaniacs for the reboot. 

Brain ignored the curious stares from the other workers on the studio lot, instead focusing his attention on his hand, which was interlaced with Pinky’s. This was all so new to him. He was trying his best to navigate the challenging terrains of a serious romantic relationship. Thankfully, Pinky was ever so gentle and understanding with him. The taller mouse possessed strong emotional intelligence and he was able to help Brain let his guard down and help him come to terms with his own emotions. The smaller mouse was still slowly getting used to public displays of affection from Pinky. 

Pinky recognized Brain’s nervousness and started to make small-talk to keep his mind occupied. “Oh, that ‘Bride of Pinky’ segment was so much fun, Brain!” The buck-toothed mouse proclaimed. 

“Indeed it was” Brain politely replied with a small smile. 

“And your improv was on point!” Pinky praised. “Dr. Brainenstein trying to kiss Pigor after the loss of his monster wife was brilliant!” 

“Well, your performance was believable as always, Pinky.” Brain kindly complimented. 

“Yeah, I’m glad those last couple segments were more on the fun and heartwarming side.” Pinky added. 

Brain nodded his head. He was still bitter at the writers who penned that dreaded ‘Mousechurian Candidate’ script for a number of reasons. The material had angered him, but deeply disturbed Pinky to the point that he had been hiding himself in his trailer after each scene. Brain and Julia did their best to reassure their poor co-worker that they were only acting. But once they had received the scripts for ‘The Babysitter’s Flub’ and ‘Bride of Pinky’, Brain was relieved that the following segments focused on the comedic and affectionate relationship the two leads shared. This renewed Brain’s hope that the reboot would manage to retain the magic of the original series. 

Meanwhile, the Warners bounced around the movie lot, looking for a way to let out their energy. Yakko spotted Pinky and The Brain walking together. He stopped Wakko and Dot and gestured over to their co-stars. The three made one long leap towards the mice. 

“Hey, fellas!” Yakko greeted. “Listen, we just wanna thank you two for vouching for us earlier.” 

“We really appreciate you two standing up for us.” Wakko added. 

“Oh, your welcome.” Brain said. “It’s awfully rare that we cross paths in the show, but Pinky and I welcome your enthusiastic presence.” 

“Personally, I’ve always been an admirer of your sophisticated wit and earnest comedic chemistry.” Dot complimented. 

Pinky looked bashfully at Dot. “Zort! Oh you’re far too kind!” 

“Oh, I have something important to tell you two.” Wakko announced. “So I told my siblings this a while back, and I want you to know that I’m Non-Binary!” The middle child turned their hat around to reveal the pin of the Non-Binary flag on the front of their cap. “Egad, you have zero binaries? Why that’s incredible!” Pinky exclaimed as he eagerly shook Wakko’s hand. 

“That’s wonderful, Wakko.” Brain congratulated. “And could you kindly inform us of your pronouns?” 

“I currently use he/they pronouns.” Wakko answered. 

“Well, Pinky and I are very happy for you.” Brain kindly told the middle child. 

“Aw, thanks!” Wakko said with a sincere smile. Yakko playfully ruffled his sibling’s head, causing Wakko to give their older brother a soft shove. 

“Well, as much as I would love to converse with you further, Pinky and I need to go to the bank to deposit our checks, and return to the lab to discuss our plans for world domination.” Brain explained, tugging his taller partner along. “See you soon, children!” 

“Bye-bye kiddies!” Pinky addressed the kids with a friendly wave. 

“Bye!” The Warners chorused before bouncing about on their merry way back to the water tower. 

Unbeknownst to the mice and the Warners, they were being watched by Warner Brothers CEO, Nora Rita Norita, from the top floor of the WB office building. The businesswoman looked through the blinds and noticed the great rapport between the five actors. 

She flashed a menacing smile before releasing her grip from the blinds. 

Additional AN: So this chapter is mostly set up, establishing the friendly rapport between the Warners and the mice. 

Like my previous story, Those We Hold Dear, Pinky and the Brain work as actors and that most of the segments were filmed on the Warner movie lot (the period piece ones like How to Brain Your Dragon, Pinko and the Brain, Bride of Pinky, 1001 Narfs, and I added Mousechurian Candidate because of how poorly executed it was and the writers really did those characters dirty. And I was inspired by a post by @themurphyzone about episode 8 while referencing that episode in the story. While other segments like Ex-Mousina and Roadent Trip will be referenced later on in the story, occurred in-universe. 

And I chose to start the story with the characters filming Bride of Pinky because I loved that little cameo from the Warners and thought it would be fun to play around with the idea of what went on behind the scenes. Also, I decided to expand on that director who kept yelling when something went wrong while filming, and decided to name him Wellesley after the one of the producers of the reboot, Wellesley Wild. 

I also made the self-indulgent inclusion that Brain finally attended therapy because I love that grumpy little mouse and I wanted to at least have some of his emotional issues straightened out. 

As of now, this multi-chapter story is mostly complete, and I just need to add in some details in certain scenes, so I will do my best to post new chapters frequently. 

Thanks for reading! 

[obeiii-mee]

Hi~ A hc of what kinda compliments the brothers like to give when they're already in a relationship? Like we know asmo is the kind of person who loves to compliments every little cute gesture they make, but what about the others? Thank you so much~

This is such a sweet ask, thank you! Seeing some of the brothers are sort of tsundere-ish, this was interesting to do. The boys are definitely more likely to give compliments to their partner when they’re already in a relationship with them. The hcs are a bit short so I hope that’s OK. And I apologise this too so long to finish. I was working on two asks at the same time.

————————————

Compliments the Brothers would to give to their partner:

Lucifer:

-He’s all about teasing you at times

-So he’s likely to give you compliments regarding your appearance to see you all flustered

-Hurt his pride a little bit and compliment him back, get your revenge

-Also praising

-You can’t be insecure in his presence, he’s not going to let that happen

-He knows he’s not the best with words so he tries to be more vocal with you

-“You look truly beautiful my love. Now I’m tempted to stay at home with you instead of going to Lord Diavolo’s party.”

Mammon:

-It would take a while for him to be able to actually compliment you without stuttering or abruptly changing the subject

-He’s so awkward at displaying affection or even receiving it especially from you, whether it’s physical or not and wants to overcome that

-As your relationship progresses, he gets way more vocal around you trust me

-Very VERY vocal

-He’s really grateful to have you so even though he acts all superior from time to time, he’s pretty willing to loudly state why you’re so important to him

-He sometimes panics and just starts ranting

-“See? That was my idea! Aren’t I awesome MC?? I mean...I mean you’re pretty awesome too ya know? I-I, for a human I mean.... you’re really cute. H-hey, don’t look at me like that!”

Levi:

-Another one that is very awkward when it comes to relationships in general

-Every time he tries to say something nice to you he blushes to his ears before running away and hiding in his room

-It would take some time, but after a while he starts complimenting you and giving you pet names absentmindedly before realising what he said and getting all flustered

-Give him a complimet and he will throw one right back at you, like a reflex response

-He’s pretty adamant that you are waaaaayyy more talented at basically everything than him

-He lives for being supportive but uh, don’t you try to use any normie tactics on him

-“Whoa! That was so amazing MC!You’re totally OP! Ah, I’m sorry,d-did I say something weird again?”

Satan:

-The man knows how to be smooth all right

-He loves complimenting you

-Has no shame whatsoever

-Worse than Lucifer with the teasing

-I’ve got nothing else to say for him, he knows what he’s doing

-He would compliment you with some flirty subtext audible in his voice then go back to his book as if nothing happened, like w h a t

-“Well, don’t you look stunning? Do you need my assistance with anything? Aw you’re adorable.” Nosebleed

Asmo:

-This is Asmo, I’d be worried if he wasn’t complimenting your existence every few seconds

-He loves to be showered with affection but that doesn’t mean he won’t focus on you at all

-He sees you as a precious jewel and is not afraid to say it

-He will call everything you do either sexy or cute, this man is horny and he can’t stop himself

-He would go from complimenting your outfit to saying you are the kindest person he’s ever met

-He’s both wholesome and lustful at the same time, pls give him more love

-“Oh darling, you look breathtaking in those shoes! You are almost as gorgeous as I am. See, even your blush is cute~”

Beel:

-Beel is the sort of person/demon to give you compliments and not think twice about it

-Like he’ll call you cute or something and not realise you are all flustered

-He likes complimenting you because it clearly shows how he feels about you

-He will literally call you a goddess every time you cook him something

-He’s actually considered the possibility of you being an angel in disguise

-He loves alright? And he wants to show that in all the ways he can

-“MC, I refuse to eat anything cooked by anyone else but you ever again OK? I swear to Lord Diavolo, you’re nothing but perfect.”

Belphie:

-You see, he’s a complicated one

-Because, until he gets over all the shit he’s done to you every since you met him and until he forgives himself for that, he will be closed off

-Once he starts warming up though, he gets pretty comfortable giving you compliments

-Usually he overdoes it (in a subtle way) just to show you how much he’s changed ever since then

-He’s a tsundere definitely, but he’s willing to overcome his embarrassment to see you all flustered after he calls you ‘adorable’

-The first thing he says to you each morning

-“MC, you’re not supposed to be this cute with a bed head like that. Guess I have no choice but to nap with you for a while.”

Al~

[pinkanonwrites]

love me, please love me

Akaashi x Reader

Happy belated Valentine's day! I wanted to write a bittersweet piece for the occasion, but I caved right at the end and made it 100% sweet instead. Basically Akaashi is a delight and I wanted to see him pine, and pine hard. I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

(also the song title is from a song of the same name by Michel Polnareff, which I highly recommend listening to in order to get that yearning vibe)

Akaashi had already decided by himself at an early point in his professional career that writing romance, for all intents and purposes, was easy.

Sure, there would always be details and characters and overarching, more interesting plot to work out, but the overall premise was always the same. Two characters with undeniable chemistry, kept from admitting their true feelings because of Person X or Situation Y, rinse and repeat misunderstandings and 'almosts' until the manga was ready to end. Maybe even leave room afterwards for a cute, episodic spin-off.

Easy.

The real world, however, rarely offered such simplicities.

For example, Akaashi was in love with an office worker whose desk was once across from his, and he was pretty sure they didn't even know his name.

It's not like he'd known he was going to fall for you. How could he have? There was no chorus of angels, no heavenly light from above as the world seemed to fall into slow-motion. No. On his first day in the office you had been late, stumbled in with messy hair and a haphazard stack of manuscripts that you smacked down onto your desk, and had nearly tipped your overfull coffee mug all over the floor. He could hardly call it a good first impression. And yet…

The other workers on your floor seemed to hold you in a very high regard. He'd barely been there a week when one of his concerns had been directed to your desk.

"Ah, excuse me. Takaoda-san told me you could help with this?"

Your attention snapped up from your screen to Akaashi and the folder tucked in his hands. Noticeably confused for a split second, it took a moment before realization dawned on you.

"Oh! You're the guy who just joined! Kashi-san, right? Yeah, I can help you with that!"

You didn't even give him time to correct your butchering of his name.

Not only had you solved his problem, you'd scooted your chair to the side a bit and motioned for him to drag his own over and seat himself beside you, carefully walking him through the entire process.

"There you are! I'll just email this over to you so you have the file on your computer then."

"Yes, thank you very much."

"No problem! If you have any more questions, I'd be happy to help you out."

Your kindness, it seemed, extended to the other members of your office floor as well. Not a day would go by without Akaashi seeing at least one person hunkered down beside you at your desk in various states of disarray, waiting for your kind and composed words to soothe their frazzled minds. Clearly you were a cherished member of this office.

He was sure that the warm stirrings beginning in his chest were no more than admiration at that point.

Mostly sure.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As his status with the editing company and his understanding of the industry began to rise, Akaashi was swiftly moved up to higher departments and higher pressures, longer meetings and tighter deadlines. He no longer spent as much time on the main floor where he'd started. But he still noticed you.

You'd been the first on the floor to cheer for him when it was announced that he'd be moving to his own private office. You patted him on the back and wished him well with a big, bright smile that made his stomach do something funny he tried to ignore. Occasionally you bumped into each other in the elevator, the break room, in meeting rooms as clusters of overworked people filed in and out.

And sometimes, on darkened evenings when he was leaving the building in the dead of night, he'd see you still sat at your desk. Alone in the office space, you continued to tap away at your keyboard. He'd never considered that for all the time you spent helping others with their problems, that was time unspent solving your own.

"Kashi-san?"

He faltered a bit under your tired gaze, lurking in the doorway of the floor, having finally caught your eye. He didn't even remember to correct you, again.

It didn't matter that much, though. Not when his body was already moving without him thinking, standing at the side of your desk and placing the canned coffee he'd just bought from the vending machine on its corner.

"It's almost 10. I'm surprised you're still here."

You blinked, then laughed, a sweet melodic tune. The coffee clutched in both hands, you looked up at him so sweetly that his heart hammered in response.

"Yeah, there's a lot to get done."

"Please be sure not to overwork yourself. You're a vital piece of this company."

I will, thank you… Hey, have you eaten?"

He startled, checking his watch. "N-Not since lunch."

"Let's grab something. My treat. Consider it a thanks for the coffee."

"Ah… if you insist."

Not that he needed much insistence.

And so began a comfortable pattern as late night dinners between the two of you became all the more common. It was rare that a week went by that didn't end a long and tiring day with ramen in a cozy booth, or snack foods scarfed down outside a 24-hour convenience store, your smiling face all the warmth he needed to stave off the evening chill.

Perhaps this was where he'd first realized, when you'd held a napkin out to him to dab away the teriyaki sauce smeared at the corner of his mouth: A sudden, longing lurch to do the same, to cup your cheek gently in his hand, to run the pad of his thumb over your soft lower lip. He walked home in a daze that evening, dusted with snow and brimming with warmth and confusion.

Realistically he knew that office romances weren't uncommon. He'd read enough manga and watched enough dramas to know that. And yet, he couldn't shake the concern so easily. What if your bosses found out? What would your co-workers think?

...What if it didn't work?

The only glimpses of yourself he'd gotten outside of a workplace environment were those short, shared meals. How could that be enough to judge whether you two were really meant to work well together? Was it worth risking the fallout?

No. Certainly not. Not for a silly crush. Akaashi could wait this out, he should wait this out. Keep his distance and wait until the butterflies faded and the fires died and he was left with the same feelings he'd felt for you in the beginning, appreciation and the occasional concern.

He would be fine.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On the dawn of week three of minimizing contact with you, Akaashi Keiji was decidedly not fine.

He hadn't realized how dependent he'd become on your presence until it was unceremoniously torn away from him. Is a grown man meant to crave another person's voice so much? Their smile? Their laugh? He felt like a schoolboy again, flustered and frustrated and brimming over with emotions he wasn't sure how to outlet.

On Tuesday morning you'd come in early, clearly dressed for a date. Takaoda confirmed his suspicion a moment later when he complimented your outfit.

"I've got a blind date tonight, actually."

The butterflies in Akaashi's stomach choked and died, falling like stones into the pit of his gut. He nearly shocked himself with the single word that screamed across his rushing mind, that he didn't dare speak aloud.

No.

He felt like a jerk. He felt like a coward. He felt like a horrible, selfish child. But when you saw him standing in the hall and lifted a hand to wave, Akaashi ducked his head and hurried to his office, pointedly and obviously ignoring your greeting.

Well done Keiji, surely they would return your feelings now.

Very little got done that day. And as the clock ticked ever and ever closer to 5pm, Akaashi knew he needed to make a choice. And he knew he needed help making it.

Lifting his cell phone, Akaashi called the one person he knew could give him an easy answer.

"Hey, hey, hey! Akaashi! How are you? Aren't you at work right now?"

"Yes, Bokuto-san. However, I had an important question I was hoping you could help me with."

"Of course! Must be real big if you're calling me about it, huh?"

"Yes, it is."

Faced with the possibility of finally having an answer to his concerns, Akaashi found himself at a loss of where to start.

"Bokuto-san, have you ever had feelings for someone but weren't sure if telling them was the best idea?"

"Oho? Romance questions? Now I'm real interested!" He could hear Bokuto's big, silly grin even over the phone. "Well yeah, some of the cheerleaders are pretty hot. And you remember that guy at the ramen place who always gave me extra coupons? Pretty sure he could've been my soulmate!"

"Bokuto-san, I believe my situation is a touch more serious than a waiter who gives me extra coupons."

Bokuto maturely responded by blowing a raspberry into the receiver.

"Well, if it's that serious why haven't you asked them yourself? You've gotten this torn up about it to call me, so it must be the real deal."

"It really isn't that easy…"

"Isn't it? I mean, they either like you or they don't, right? If they do, great! If they don't, well then you can just start getting over them faster."

Akaashi found himself struggling for a reasonable response to that.

"Hey, all I can say is, you miss a hundred percent of the shots you don't take! Someone famous said that. Shakespeare, I think."

"Wayne Gretzky."

"Bless you."

Sighing, Akaashi glanced at his watch. You would probably be leaving soon. You might even already be out of the office. "...Thank you, Bokuto-san. If you'll excuse me, I need to catch an elevator."

"Sure thing bud! Lemme know how it goes!"

Click.

Akaashi's office door swung shut alongside the soft click of Bokuto hanging up. He skittered on the tile, trying to right himself as he sprinted around the corner, stopping only for a second at the window to the office floor. No one there.

He was probably too late already, why wouldn't you have left early on the night of your date? You worked so hard every other day, surely you would take the few extra minutes to prepare yourself. You were smart like that. Smart, and beautiful, and considerate, and there was no way Akaashi was going to just let you walk off with another man, not without even trying…

Around the corner, standing at the door to one of the elevators, there you were. Why did you look so… grim?

"Oh, hey!" You forced a smile onto your face as you gave him a little wave. "Clocking out on time? That's not like you."

Akaashi opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He tried again, clearing his throat hard.

"Oh, damn. Here."

You pressed a half-empty water bottle into his hands.

"Were you running? You're wheezing like crazy."

Staring down at the bottle in his quivering hands, his mouth moved before his mind could work.

"A date!"

You froze, finally focusing up on his face, staring so, so deeply into his eyes. Or maybe you were just looking at him normally. He could no longer tell. "Oh, yeah. I had one. He had to cancel."

The water bottle clattered to the floor as he gripped both your hands in his.

"Would you consider dinner, then?... With… me? Not like we usually do, this one's…. It's…."

Your hands were so warm. You could probably feel how sweaty his were. Gross. He should probably let you go before you got creeped out or-

"A date?"

"....Please."

A giddy, boisterous laugh bubbled out of you, one he had only heard after you'd downed a few drinks yourself. You squeezed his hands tight, giving him a smile that washed his anxieties away like chalk beneath the rain.

"I'd like that."

"Ah. Yes. Shall we go then?"

"We shall." You hooked your arm around his elbow, giving him a playful grin. "Lead the way, good sir."

Akaashi had already decided for himself at an early point in his professional career that writing romance, for all intents and purposes, was easy.

Living it, though? That was much harder. But he couldn't find it in himself to mind.

"Oh! Takaoda finally told me I've been getting your name wrong this whole time? Why didn't you say anything? I feel like such a jackass!"

"There, uh, a good time to mention it never seemed to come up?"

"Well I have a lot of making up to do, don't I Akaashi?~"

"I'm looking forward to it."

[asphyxiateher]

Only Monsters Come Out At Night

Chapter Four: The Ties that Bind

Summary: Desdemona receives a warning from Lady Dimitrescu before she sets off to spend time with Cassandra. Veronica is alive but just barely. 

A/N: This chapter is longer than anticipated, I tried to be descriptive without being too wordy but alas, I hope you enjoy anyway. 

Desdemona Hawthorne wishes she could convince herself that she does not believe in luck because it’s a flimsy excuse that most people fall back on to justify the unfavorable circumstances they may find themselves in. Growing up in the suburbs, she had heard all kinds of non-sense about how putting enough positive thoughts and energy out in the universe would grant you the gift of receiving everything you have ever wanted in return. Desdemona isn’t quite sure how to describe her current predicament, but she is certain that even vomiting rainbows and shitting out sunshine would not be enough to get her out of Castle Dimitrescu. No, this is the rotten luck she’s grown accustomed to having follow her around and it had tainted this vacation from the beginning. She just wanted to see the castle that inspired Dracula and learn about its history so she could say she went out there to pursue a seemingly impossible dream and made it come true.

Desdemona did not come out here to be imprisoned by three monstrous vampires who either wanted to kill her or fuck her, she couldn’t tell which they wanted to do more of at this point, so this whole unnerving, unpleasant experience warranted a refund. She had been expecting a tour guide and a group of fellow tourists when her group made it up here but instead, here she was stuck in a foul-smelling, subterranean cellar that was currently occupied by her and the three vampiric sisters she mentioned earlier. The eldest sister, Bela, stood in front of Desdemona protectively as she attempted to swat away at her sisters that were now slowly approaching them with raised sickles. “She’s mine, you delusional twit! She gave me something that was clearly important to her, that means she has declared herself to me!” Bela hollered, hissing when Daniela swung her sickle at her. “Bela, you selfish brat, you’re always sucking up to Mother and trying to be better than us at everything, but she told you to share! I am sick and tired of being given the leftovers; sometimes I want the first bite, you know!” Cassandra whines, transforming into a massive ball of insects only to instantly appear by Desdemona’s side.   “Cassandra, you know how it is with Bela; we do all the work, and she takes all the credit! Let us humble our dear sister and take what is rightfully ours.” Daniela snarls, a dangerous glint in her eyes as she flicks her gaze over to Desdemona. She licks her lips and moans when she takes in her prey’s scent, her fear sweetening her blood.

Desdemona was at a loss for words the moment Daniela expressed her clear distaste for her sister’s arrogance. It was not only what came out of her mouth that perplexed the human, but it was in the manner of how she complained to Cassandra about Bela. The whole unsettling conversation between the siblings made Desdemona feel like they were ready to tear her apart so they could divide her evenly between the three of them. In hindsight, she probably should not have given any of the sisters a gift if this was going to be the reaction, but had they all been here the other day, maybe she could have given them all a little something to remember her by at the same time. However, this little opportunity could prove to be beneficial should the women begin tearing and clawing at each other rather than her. Maybe this is where they shred each other apart and Desdemona might have a fighting chance at making it out of here after all. She needed to find out where this was going fast and if she was going to need to take cover.

“Daughters, what is the meaning of this? I have bestowed each of you a gift that the three of you were supposed to share and take responsibility for only to have you throw back the kindness I’ve shown you back in my face!” Alcina’s booming voice in dungeon startled everyone in the room. The chamber door clicked open, exposing the rather imposing figure that belonged to Lady Dimitrescu. She scanned the room and glared at her three cowering daughters, carelessly throwing in another body into the room that she had been hauling behind her. Desdemona’s eyes widened in surprise when she recognized Veronica’s limp body curled on the ground.

“You know you’re supposed to take care of your pets and not let them rot in the cellar! Have I not taught you girls any manners or did I overestimate your ability to take care of this human you are all so fond of? Ugh, no matter, I have another task for you girls. You are to assist Karl with a project; he found an abandoned van not too far from the village and was able to tow it back to the castle. We found some of Desdemona’s belongings that I’m sure you all would be interested in.” Alcina said sweetly, smirking when her daughters expressed their delight at embarking on such a quest. Desdemona carefully approached Veronica’s resting form and knelt on the ground beside her, gently lifting her head and placing it on her lap. She gasped aloud when she saw how bruised and broken Veronica appeared, her hair disheveled as her skin was marred with darkened bruises and scars that indicated severe physical trauma. Veronica shifted in place and lifted a shaky hand in the air, her breathing slow and calm when she feels Desdemona’s fingers clasp together with hers.

 “What…what happened to you, V? You look like shit.” Desdemona teases, hoping to brighten her best friend’s mood somehow. Veronica smiles at Dezzy’s playful tone and lightly squeezes her hand. Veronica suddenly grimaces and turns her head to her side, her tongue rolling around against her cheek before she spits something out.

‘Wait, did she just spit out a tooth? What did Lady Dimitrescu do to you, Veronica?’ Desdemona sadly thinks to herself as she pulls Veronica closer until she’s settled comfortably on her lap.

“You know me, Dezzy, I don’t know when to shut the fuck up. She wants to break me and I want to irritate her until my very last breath; this relationship is in absolutely no way toxic.” Veronica says, coughing out blood when she tries to laugh through the pain.

“Mother, that loud-mouth with the gross blood is touching our plaything. May we slit her throat and hang her upside down until she bleeds out?” Cassandra asks with a sneer. Daniela is scowling at Veronica and she looks ready to pounce but she somehow manages to refrain from doing so after looking to her mother for any signs of approval. Thankfully, Alcina manages to look annoyed with the request more than anything.

“No, no, you girls will not touch what belongs to me. She was starting to bore me so throwing her in here for a day will allow me to recharge. I will, however, remind you that your new task needs to be done immediately so I suggest you find your dear Uncle Karl and help him with whatever he needs. I will tend to your pet and give her a bath. She and I need to have an important talk regarding your needs.” Alcina states as she glances over to Desdemona cradling her best friend in her arms.

“Mother, if Desdemona needs a bath, I would be more than happy to assist you in all matters that concern my beloved.” Bela offers, beaming when she gazes into Desdemona’s eyes.

The crestfallen expression on Bela’s face after Alcina politely rejects her offer has the other two sisters snickering in the back. Disheartened at the idea of Desdemona being handled in the bath by her mother, Bela disintegrates into a million insects and leaves the space. Her two sisters soon follow when their mother shoots them a knowing look.

Alcina’s attention now falls on Desdemona and the surviving Hawthorne twin feels her heart begin to race. She doesn’t quite know how to act around Lady Dimitrescu and judging by how broken Veronica looked, Desdemona figures she must continue to act submissive and demonstrate manners when she’s spoken to. Until she can come up with a formidable plan to escape the castle with her best friend in tow, Desdemona must continue to get to know Lady Dimitrescu and her three daughters better. She’ll eventually figure out what their weaknesses are by playing the long game.

“I guess I better get going, V. Please feel better soon and you know, try not to die.” Desdemona says as she places a gentle kiss on her friend’s forehead.

 Veronica scoffs and bats away at her in response.

“I can’t make any promises I can’t keep. You just do you until you know, find something worth finding out about and tell me all about it. Oh, and Dezzy,” Veronica says quietly as she watches her best friend cautiously approach Lady Dimitrescu, who had been observing their interaction with curiosity. “let it be known that you have the worst fucking luck in the world with women. Take care of yourself, yeah?”

Desdemona sighs at that and offers her friend a knowing smile. She’d spent most of her life being attracted to heterosexual women or women who were emotionally unavailable to her; she didn’t think she’d ever cross the line of the usual types she’s typically drawn to but here she was fighting for survival as a trio of dangerous vampires decided to lay their claim on her.

Des dares to look up at Alcina, who unfortunately had already been staring at her, and she gulps, picking up the pace to keep up with Lady Dimitrescu’s rather large strides. For the most part, Alcina does not engage in much conversation unless she felt the need to point something out about the mansion.

When they enter one of the guest bathrooms, Desdemona can’t help but be a little impressed at Lady Dimitrescu’s design choices. The exquisitely polished gold marble flooring stood out the most as two sinks lined up on both sides of the room, the cherry wood cabinets complimenting both the granite countertops and the glossy tile backsplash. Desdemona had to begrudgingly admit that Lady Dimitrescu had impeccable taste, her jaw dropping at the sight of a large bathtub sitting upon a platform in the center of the room.

Alcina wasted no time in stripping Desdemona of her ratty clothes after she had run enough hot water for her in the tub. The steam and warmth of the water was nearly enough to send Desdemona into a state of relaxation but then she remembered Alcina wanted to have an important discussion with her in private.

  “You know as well as I do that I do not care for humans. Your life has no meaning to me and should I wish to, I could cut you open at any given moment and offer any remaining part of you to the pigs after my daughters and I are through feasting on your corpse. The only reason you are being kept alive is because my daughters are growing fond of you. They’ve ever only known the company of family and the maidens they occasionally feed on so to see a blossoming…relationship between one of my daughters and her plaything is quite remarkable.”

Desdemona doesn’t dare say a thing as Alcina gently lifts her arms to scrub them. The word “relationship” is being tossed around so casually that it makes her wonder if any of these women knew what love was or if any of them were capable of forming attachments to other people.

When the smaller woman doesn’t reply, Alcina grips the back of Desdemona’s head and yanks it back so she could growl in her ear.

“You shall treat all my daughters as equals, pet. You will not favor one over the other two and you will do whatever it takes to keep them happy if you know what’s good for you. I care about my daughters and their happiness and if that means keeping you alive, you better damn well appreciate the gift I’m giving you by allowing you serve them. You shall spoil them, love them and show them affection because if word gets out that you’ve been a naughty little human that’s broken any of their hearts, I will gut you alive.”  

Desdemona feels her fists clench and unclench underneath the bath water at the mention of being gutted alive. A tear runs down her cheek at the disturbing memory of her twin brother’s bowels piling on the floor as Veronica’s screams echoed in the back of her mind. It was horrifying having to relive that particular memory over and over again.

‘You should tell her how much you hate her for killing Desmond. Stop being a pussy and stand up for yourself! Who cares if she beats you!? She murdered Desmond, you should be fighting tooth and nail for your freedom the way Veronica has been doing.’

With a shaky voice, Desdemona swallows her pride and nods in acquiescence to Lady Dimitrescu’s requests.

“I understand, my Lady. I will do whatever it takes to ensure that their needs are fulfilled and that they remain happy under my care.” Desdemona says after a tense moment.

Alcina smiles and releases the grip she had on the smaller girl’s head.

“Good, I’m glad we were able to clear that up like reasonable adults. After I’m done tidying you up, you will spend the night with Cassandra in her room. She has been upset ever since Bela told my other girls how you’d given her a phone full of pictures of you. For your sake, I sure do hope you plan on making it up to both Cassandra and Daniela; they’re starting to feel neglected.” Alcina tells her with a wicked smile on her face and Desdemona has to stop herself from groaning out loud.

She doesn’t necessarily have a plan to appease both Cassandra and Daniela but spending the night with Cassandra was a great starting point. It didn’t help matters that she was absolutely terrified of the sadistic vampire but perhaps it wouldn’t take much to charm her.

After the somewhat relaxing bath, Desdemona was left to her own devices to explore the mansion under the watchful eyes of Alcina. Cassandra’s bedroom wasn’t too far off from the hallway she was currently wandering through but the silence that followed her throughout the castle was still quite eerie. Desdemona’s hand reached for the golden doorknob in front of her when her ears are filled with uncontrollable giggling. She squeezes the knob and slightly turns it only to swat away at a few insects buzzing around her. Desdemona looks to her left and then to her right; there’s nothing on either side of her and so she takes a deep breath, wondering if she was slowly losing her mind the longer she stayed in the castle.

Opening the door, the next thing she sees is a black shadow with glistening white teeth lunging at her. “Rawr!”

Desdemona shouts and jumps back until she hits the wall behind her, her hand clutching at her chest as she tries to steady her heavy breathing. She’s not sure if she should be relieved to see that it was just Cassandra laughing at her reaction to the stupid jump scare but at least she wasn’t in immediate danger…maybe.

“Oh, you should see the look on your face – it’s priceless! Mmm, and just listening to the sound of your heart rapidly beating in your chest is lovely music to my ears. Fear thickens your blood and the thicker the blood, the sweeter it is.” Cassandra tells her, laughter now subsiding as she stands awkwardly in the doorway.

 “Is there a reason you came to visit little ol’ me or did you get lost on your way to find Bela?” Cassandra spits out Bela’s name with disdain and Desdemona knew she had to convince Alcina’s daughters that they all meant something to her, but she had to treat them all as equals as well.

 “I came to see you, actually. I wanted to spend some time with you and get to know you better since we got off the wrong foot at the beginning of all this.” Desdemona says uncertainly, peering over Cassandra’s shoulders to see if there was something she could work with if she managed to convince her to let her in.

Cassandra gives her a once over, her eyes lingering on certain parts of Desdemona longer than most and relents.

 “I do have a few questions about some of your belongings my dear Uncle Karl found in that hideous vehicle of yours. Now, I do occasionally dabble in the arts myself but these palettes you brought with you are utterly useless and too shiny for my liking! Explain this to me!” Cassandra exclaims as she leads a befuddled Desdemona into her room which was surprisingly ordinary considering the woman’s personality.

Desdemona was about to ask what she meant by shiny when her mouth suddenly hangs open at the sight of several expensive makeup palettes thrown and scattered about. Cassandra picks up a broken Pat McGrath eyeshadow palette and attempts to dip one of her makeup brushes in one of the colors and draws a sloppy line against the canvas she had set up on an easel in front of her.

‘Jesus fucking Christ, she’s trying to paint using your one hundred-and twenty-five-dollar eyeshadow palette.’ Desdemona thinks, desperately trying hard not to cry at the loss of something so precious to her.

Desdemona rolls her lips as she recognizes one of her favorite Morphe makeup brushes lying broken in half across the other side of the room. Cassandra had gone through her makeup bag and successfully destroyed at least a few hundred dollars worth of product. If survival wasn’t a big priority right now, Desdemona would have a mental breakdown over this. For now, she’ll be happy to take a rain check.

“So, I love your enthusiasm, Cassandra, and your idea to paint on a canvas using my makeup is really…creative. How about I show you how to do your makeup with what’s left?” Desdemona asks as she picks up a relatively intact kit that Cassandra paid no mind to.

Cassandra tilts her head in confusion.

“Why would I need makeup? You’re disgusted by the sight of me, aren’t you? I know I’m not as pretty or as smart as Bela, but you don’t need to go around telling me what I don’t already know!” Cassandra screeches, her hands wrapping around Desdemona’s neck and slamming her to the nearest wall. When Cassandra begins to apply a deadly amount of pressure, Desdemona had to act quickly.

“I-I just wanted to spend time with you, Cassandra! You’re beautiful without makeup, but seeing how much you like art, I thought you’d appreciate it a different way!” Desdemona manages to say, nearly coughing up a lung when Cassandra releases her.

The dark-haired woman eyes Desdemona suspiciously but she motions for the smaller girl to continue.

“I just thought maybe you’d want to partake in an activity we both would enjoy. It’s intimate and it would just be our thing, something that no one would take away from us. You’re already gorgeous, Cassandra, but this is a thing we could do for fun. Just you and me doing each other’s makeup...and maybe after we’ve gotten to know each other better, maybe we can just do each other.” Desdemona continues as she tries to double down on her flirtatiousness. She bats her eyelashes at Cassandra and her fingers begin to twirl the ends of her long, wavy dark brown hair.

Cassandra inhales Desdemona’s scent and rolls her eyes to the back of her head as if her blood were truly intoxicating in that moment. “Okay, I’ll let you do my makeup, Little One. Just…hurry up and let’s get to the part where we get to know each other better. I can’t wait to eat you all up once you let me, my pretty little plaything.” Cassandra whispers into Desdemona’s ear, her tongue leaving a wet trail from the nape of her neck to her collarbone. She enjoys the way the smaller girl shudders against her.

“R-right, let’s sit on your bed for a minute. I have some ideas and I’ll need your input. Your opinion is extremely important to me.” Des tells Cassandra, emphasizing how much she valued Cassandra’s contributions to their playdate activity, and it seemed to boost Cassandra’s ego.

Twenty minutes later after Desdemona had helped Cassandra clean her face, Desdemona straddled Cassandra and set herself to work on Lady Dimitrescu’s most insecure daughter. The smaller brunette was leaning closely over Cassandra and it was nearly too much for Cassandra’s senses. She was steadily growing impatient but there was something fascinating in the way Desdemona looked as she began doing her makeup. She looked focused, determined and when she fixed her brilliant gray eyes into Cassandra’s, there was a playfulness in the way she smiled at her. Cassandra felt her heart squeeze at the beautiful sight of her human sitting so peacefully atop of her. She did not want to ruin this moment but Cassandra hates holding back, whether its her feelings on something or when she’s out in the wilderness hunting, she needed to voice her thoughts.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met and I’m glad you got lost in our village. I’ve met all sorts of pretty maidens but they were all so boring and rude, always screaming at the sight of us and running away from us when we wanted to play hide and seek. Your blood is so tempting, I want to bite into your neck and rip out your throat but…this, spending time like this with anyone outside of my family is nice. You’re so sweet it makes me want to taste you, but you also make me want to be around you more in a way that doesn’t involve killing, maiming, or torture, if that makes sense.” Cassandra blurts out in a rush, her cheeks glowing pink underneath the dim light of the torches in her room.

 Desdemona pauses and takes a moment to let all that sink in. Cassandra is adorably awkward, or that’s how she would describe her if she weren’t also an intimidating immortal vampire that could snap her neck at the drop of a hat. Cassandra didn’t like the long awkward pause that formed between them, so she begins digging her sharp nails into Desdemona’s thighs and the smaller girl reacts.

‘Des, you need to stab her in the eye while she’s vulnerable or if she’s really a vampire, try stabbing her in the heart! Kill her, kill her the way they so ruthlessly killed your brother and be done with it. Fight your way out of here, goddamn it!’ Desdemona’s thoughts were overwhelming her and as much as she wanted to fight the creatures that were responsible for her brother’s death and Veronica’s misery, she knew she had to discourage such thoughts from frequently forming in her mind. This game couldn’t be won if she gave in to her baser desires.

“Is your tongue coated in honey, Cassandra? I’m a little embarrassed to admit this but no one has said such lovely things to me before. It makes me want to kiss you.” Desdemona flirts as she brings her hips down against Cassandra, causing the other woman to moan aloud at the intense contact she felt between them. “So…what’s holding you back? Kiss me!” Cassandra demanded, her hands snaking underneath Desdemona’s blouse as her hands explored every inch of skin that she had access to. Desdemona accidentally lets out a moan of her own and freezes, her hands finding Cassandra’s and pinning them above her head. Cassandra liked this darker side of Desdemona, it meant that they could play rough in the bedroom and her plaything would like it. This would be the last and only time Desdemona would top her though.

“I told you, you need to let me finish your makeup and then we’ll get to the fun stuff. Patience is a virtue.” Desdemona says, laughing when Cassandra huffs and crosses her arms in displeasure. The smaller girl bites her lip when she thinks to herself how cute Cassandra seemed but the thought quickly vanishes when images of Desmond’s bloodied corpse enters her mind again.

This was going to be a long game indeed.