#I think this is so fascinating to see though. Especially coming from your first hand perspective. We get to learn about something you never

[fluffydeoxys]

oh, one thing i can more easily relay right now: I made changes to this.

A slightly more detailed delving into each section (excluding the last image cus that has remained unchanged, although with the new addition that Hank only has its right eye, while Zero has their left eye) is under the cut. I've written a lot, feel free to ask something about it if you like

looking up at you meekly. uh. i wrote a lot so. if you were perhaps interested I would love if you read even a little. your time and interest is always appreciated!

TRICKY AND ZERO

As we know, Hofnarr was a big fan of Slaughter Time, and canonically speaking, the Arena Player has also directly participated in at least a single episode of it (though the level implies more than one at least). Simple right? Hofnarr would've seen Zero on TV, nothing more. But here's the thing with Zero... she's an anomaly, a paradox, something not terribly congruous with reality. Not even factoring in her abnormal, deleterious existence, there are twelve possible Zero (the Origins/Imprints, if you're curious) at any given moment during that Loop, so how could anything stable or normal hope to represent that entropy, that unknown possibility?

There's an episode of Slaughter Time that never aired. Maybe doesn't even exist. It's an online rumour at this point. A tape where, if you tried playing it, nothing comes out. Your screen turns black, or if you're lucky, you'll get some nonsense binary spat back out. But 'cus Hofnarr's such a big fan of Slaughter Time, he's gotta get his hands on this one. Eventually he did, but unfortunately... it didn't play anything.

Much later, when the dissonance tore Hofnarr apart and remade him into Tricky, he still had that tape, and sometimes clown likes to watch them. But this time, that mystery tape? It played something for him. Not much, heavily warped and unstable, stuttering and droning, changing with every pause, play and rewind, but he could see it. Something fighting like he'd never seen it before, a black shape that, while censored, he knew what it was: a grunt.

To this day, only Tricky has ever seen the contents of that Slaughter Time tape - the only recording of Zero from the loop. There was no name included in the tape, so Tricky calls her Death-bringer because of how efficiently she fought and, well, slaughtered. While he had no idea what weapon she was using, it looked most like a scythe. The Reaper.

When it comes to Zero though, she doesn't know who Tricky is, understandably. But what she DOES know, what she can see, is how strange his S3LF is. It's like I said before, his S3LF has been ripped apart and remade, using dissonance as the stitches. There are echoes of memories tied to a new face, a S3LF entangled with something peculiar, an entropic jitter that defies expectation. He is like if you took the memory of a person and reforged it anew. A fascinating anomaly for Zero, that's for sure, especially with how Tricky also does not... conform to reality, but he does so very... differently. His power is a lot more unstable and erratic. Dangerous. Thankfully, Tricky seems to have some idea that his own entropy would not play nicely with hers, should her power come to bear.

JEB AND ZERO

So what if I told you I think about these two a lot? They're weird, in a way that's very different to Hank and Doc. It's pretty messy and I'm kinda bad at making shit messy, so this is pretty fun to me. Grunt who hates so bad it makes him look like he wants her. Okay buddy.

So it used to be that Jeb hated her so bad that he wanted her dead, which he still does, but to the point he challenges her to a duel and he loses, resulting in that stomach scar (completing the nice little Jeb->Hank->Zero trifecta). He still has that, but the original context of it has changed completely 'cus I didn't like this at all.

With the help of some friend involvement, it has since changed to a flexible series of events: Jeb's first meeting with Zero was alongside Doc, which already set things off on a bad foot. Doc already pisses him off, but another lackey? Like Hank? Wonderful, what a fantastic day for him. Yeah the mysterious silent enormous grunt towering behind you won't piss me the fuck off. I already got one on my plate right now.

Jeb already expresses extreme contempt towards the Employers, distinctly about how they 'don't belong here' (quoting the post-credits scene in MPN: CHRISTOFF: You are not welcome in Nevada. State your business and go.). So when Jeb finds out about her more anomalous properties (the particulars I haven't decided on, but I'm sure he'd spot her fighting once or twice and.. learn some things)... It's another tally on the "why I don't like Zero" board. Then again when he sees her with Hank, it worsens. It FINALLY cements when Jeb ends up having a conversation with Zero.

Why?

Because Zero is quite polite. She's nice. Nice. Is this a joke? This formality? This kindness? (Mind you, it's just her not oozing insults like everyone else and merely tipping her hat after their short tête-à-tête was done) From a thing like you, knowing who you work with, how you end up covered in blood and viscera, holding yourself with this otherworldly aura? Fuck you. You think you're above me. I see you for what you really are. Even the fact she's ALSO taller than him pisses him off.

But it reaches its true boiling point when Jeb gets himself killed, as he does (possibly one of his in-canon deaths), and Doc is responsible for bringing him back. Like he often is.

And who does he have help when doing that? Yes, that's right, it's Zero. Zero helps 2BD retrieve targets from the Other Place, especially high-value ones, or ones that have been lost to the dangerous, less stable depths. Jeb factors into both, so Zero has to chase him down. And for Zero to successfully reclaim a person, she must "kill" them (which looks and feels like literal death), but it's so Zero may 'absorb' their S3LF and connect with Doc's tools to reinstate their S3LF with the body on Doc's end.

Thus: Zero chasing after a very angry and baffled Jeb throughout the Other Place. Zero most likely making a monotone comment about how difficult he's making it while Jeb barks back for her to maybe stop trying to kill him, you detestable lunatic!

All in all, a more reasonable situation for their "duel", and for why and how Jeb gets his stomach scar.

Putting that particular.. backstory? Aside, more generally speaking: Jeb has a lot of mixed feelings about Zero,

She is smart. She's a lot kinder than others, even if that kindness isn't overt, it's subtle, it's... quiet, I guess. She's not doing anything to or for him that she wouldn't otherwise; mostly she's just listening. He loves to talk. But I don't think many listen.

But he thinks it's some weird mind game or something. Because killing his problems is what he's used to, he thinks the problem is her, and the solution is that he needs to run her through with his blade. Hence the lovely little comment he has about her on the chart. I don't deserve this, I don't need it, I want you (gone). This is ludicrous. Why do you listen to me? Have you not seen my destruction, a necessary evil, but one that haunts me nonetheless? Where is your contempt?

... I feel small. I hate it.

Zero also has a lot of mixed feelings for Jeb, though in her own way that she can't quite articulate. It's a mix of detached pity, an acknowledgement of what happened, yet not quite comprehending the totality of emotion, for better or for worse. A strange hum of fondness, because in a way, he's quite.. funny. It's like finding humour in a surly, prickly cat who craves affection, but only in very specific ways. Oh yes, you hate me, and yet you're here again? She thinks, but it's never heard. And the lamentation that he truly is doomed. I'm sorry.

When Jeb gets killed in MC8 and is abandoned out in Somewhere, Zero later comes to his body. To send him off, so to speak. When he was gone, she just knew.

This was discussed with my friend devicecontact, but there's a particular scene I like a lot. Of Zero walking to his corpse while vultures circle overhead, forming a dark halo above, framing the red sun. As Zero kneels down to him and takes a scrap of his coat, her hand briefly flashes with red light. The absorption, or at least.. its implied, that maybe, a piece of his dying essence now lives within her.

The vultures spiral away, and Jeb is truly, finally gone. When Zero walks off, without a word uttered save the pause before she departs, she casts a long, lonely shadow across the wasteland.

To convey how strange their relationship is, I made Zero's text+arrow to Jeb a little odd. Zero makes a light joke, which she normally doesn't do, and states something objectively wrong (Jeb is not at all Doc's friend). So she remains obtuse about what she truly feels about Jeb. There's no way she could concisely convey a singular feeling or idea about him anyway. There's just too much, and the same could be said for Jeb to Zero, and he merely oversimplifies it as a notion to kill.

Oh. Zero's seen an old memory of his. Accident with the halo. Jeb doesn't like to talk about it. Because he's dead haha ! okay obviously more to it than that smiles with gritted teeth

whys this one the longest good lord. no I don't think about zerojeb. hey .hey

VICTOR AND ZERO

One of my favourite topics: the narrative. Or the deliberate lack thereof in this case! The narrative that cannot be, the story that cannot be told, the events that cannot be seen. Both as individuals and together.

Victor's story cannot and will not be told; the lens will always be turned away from it, and they will always remain unknown, unseen. All that will be seen is a name and a facade. Why? We truly may never know, for the Maker is nothing if not persistent in ensuring things go PRECISELY the way it needs to. Maybe Victor knows something, as he's aware of the fact that he cannot be known, and is perpetually followed by things on the border of reality.

Zero instead cannot be known. Ink stains spill on pages, gaps bleed out on memories, and corruptions erase all data. All that will be known are approximations, stories, tales, indirect points that can form a great web. The shape of her can be traced by those who know what to look for, but the picture will never be clear. It will slip. It will fade.

And if the two met? You'd never know. You can't know.

SOME THINGS CANNOT HAPPEN.

Why? Would it break reality as we know it? Would some vehicle of storytelling break altogether, inviting a new form of entropy? A devastation that would crack the shell, and the three planes would intersect, obliterating Nevada like nothing was ever there?

Or does the Maker want to prevent something from happening? Is it the Machine's intervention? The Auditor's commentary? Who is saying that text? What does that eye mean?

That vagueness, the censorship, it's REALLY fun to me. It's one of my favourite concepts for Zero, and naturally it also extends to Victor, but it's in a different.. medium. But there are very substantial consequences and ideas within the notion of a Narrative. Regardless, the ambiguity between them is far more compelling than knowing for sure whether or not they've met. Maybe they have... and what would that mean, and what would that look like? It's up to you, really. But one thing fis or certain:

The Maker does not want it to happen, no matter what.

GONNE AND ZERO

Right so. Little bit of a preface ramble for some context. In my headcanon, there are three planes of 'tangible' existence. Reality, obviously, where things happen, the "occurrant". Entropy, which can be considered the Other Place and any extensions of that, and the infinite possibility. And then Something Else, akin to the Nowhere, including it and yet not, the infinite stretch of behind the veil, around the sphere. There's something even beyond that, further than anything anyone can truly see or know, and that's where Fate and Else reside, but that's beside the point.

What the point is: there are gaps between these. When you are severed from the weave, no longer within the manifold of the Machine's reach, the narrative that enfolds the world, you sort of end up between... reality and entropy, sometimes slipping into Something Else with no real rhyme or reason. For the sake of stability, or perhaps the universe rejecting you, or the Machine just really doesn't want your ass gallivanting around.

Pointing being ... again, Gonne is still "out there." Existing, just.. not in a way almost anyone can reach, see, or even know about. Ostensibly, they're gone (heh).

But Zero? She can. She has.

In the back of her mind, somewhere far off, something taps at the wall. Something sky-blue, a colour quite rare, glimmers in a minuscule crack on an invisible wall. Zero notices.

Zero managed to put a "name" to a "face" when she 'bumps into' the S3LF-eater story. Zero always seems to show up when "interesting" things happen, which is the case here, and it was spurred by Zero noticing Hank had died (a cosmic gut feeling, more or less). She arrives after San and Dei have already hauled its body back.

Instead, she encounters Jeb and Sheriff, and they do the whole running-around of sorting out the S3LF-eater stuff. That's where Zero properly learns about Gonne, putting together those scraps of documents, of leftover logs. Now she knows who that 'voice' is.

What they've spoken about is unclear, because the means of conversation aren't expected or translatable, hence the abstractions and binary their text has to take. A new script, one that can cross the boundary of reality and entropy, but it doesn't convey ideas that can be clearly read or understood. But there are some recognisable shapes. And Zero is one of them. This shouldn't be possible.

There's a place beyond heaven and I saw it. Something might happen soon.

It's just a matter of time.

CRACKPOT AND ZERO

You know I used to not really think anything about Crackpot haha! That sure has changed! i haven't even seen them in game yet pleasehelpme

Crackpot is corroded with madness enough to know more than he should in vague, broken pieces about Zero. He also does other things in general, but specifically we're talking about Zero here, so. To others, it sounds like delusional ramblings - but like Zero says, Madness is just knowing Something Else. There is truth in what he says, and because there is truth, the words themselves unravel into shapes, approximations of ideas. For their truth has made even the words themselves "mad." To try and retain stability, to make sure things that cannot be known remain unknown, they unfurl and blur, blotch and blacken, until there is nothing discernible left.

But Crackpot speaks in such strange riddles that the shapes of what they have said DO mean something. Primarily, the 0s going up allude to how Zero is "something above", perhaps higher than the Maker, than this world itself. Not in power, but mere existence, her role, the end. There's also a rough shape of Zero in there, plus some imagery of her wings, a figure 8 loop, something piercing the veil of reality, and the two bound shapes of Hank and Zero.

Crackpot knows fleeting shrapnels, glimpses of Zero in a way that Doc has been striving towards for decades, albeit a little more coherently. Shame he's dead now! Could've learned a lot.

PHOBOS AND ZERO

Okay I might not explain this one so much cus I wanna make it its own art/post one day but essentially, Phobos has a rubix cube. Its a figurative representation of what he has, what he failed to achieve, what he was searching for and how he failed to grasp the larger picture. The cube was never solved, but Zero thinks maybe one day, it might. Zero often visited Phobos in the Other Place, until she stopped. Phobos sort of misses it, especially because he's not got much longer now.

AUDITOR AND ZERO

Fairly self-explanatory I think. Or maybe I'm tired which is also true lol. Anyway, Zero is a real pain for the Auditor because of the way she interacts with reality, is difficult to plan around/for, and just the simple fact she's just as good a killer/an unstoppable (but killable) force as Hank. She's not as prone to spontaneous events of mass murder, but she fundamentally opposes Auditor's role - a custodian of the Machine, even if they don't understand it fully. Very annoying when you already have an active nightmare to deal with on top of not knowing how your boss well, operates. The fact they can't even put up wanted posters of her is absurdly frustrating, and every time they've tried to approximate its stupid things like "the Hat Man", which no Agent takes seriously and is just plain confused by.

Auditor just kind of has to begrudgingly deal with it. Maybe coercion or something would work. (It wouldn't.)

SHERIFF AND ZERO

With Sheriff, Zero is fascinated by the idea that there can be TRUE kindness despite the circumstances, despite the structure and code and tendencies of this world. What I wrote on Zero's summary image puts it well: Sheriff represents resilience, kindness and a human element that can prevail despite the way Nevada is. Zero respects him, and while not a lot of things affect her emotionally, this is one of the things that makes Zero "happy." Basically surprised to see something human overcome the odds in such an inhuman environment. I feel like there's more detail I could go into but I need it to cook a bit more and I might need specific examples or trains of thought to flesh it out. Not sure. One thing is that Zero saved Sheriff's life during a fight around the S3LF Eater debacle. Most of my Sheriff thoughts are contained within my+a friends OCxcanon with him, anyhoo. Zero is more just... pleasantly surprised he exists, that he can exist.

I'll explain Sanford and Zero more when I get a better grasp on them and will probably go into detail about SQ as a whole with her. Welcome to still ask about them though, the changed version is a lot better than the previous lines.

some up-to-date lore bits and relationship charts with Zero!

[motoroil-recs]

[❄️ — kinfession]

since my kin experience is heavily based on feels and vague sensations (I only have one really ‘proper’ memory thus far), is it bad I want to make headcanons about my canon??

like I have no confirmation if they happened but I think it would be so fun and silly if I did. for example I had this silly lil thought that maybe I went killer frost mode whenever I got really angry and such 😂

🏎️‼️

[solxamber]

haii can i req octotrio, malleus, and leona (all seperate!) with a reader like kokomi from genshin thats also a jellyfish? romantic or not it doesn’t matter to me ^_^ also feel free to add more characters the more the merrier :3

Leona, Octatrio, Malleus, Riddle, Vil, Rook, Rollo x Kokomi!Jellyfish!Reader

a/n; i felt pretty inspired so i added quite a few <3

Leona Kingscholar

Leona pretends he’s indifferent, but your serene and calculated demeanor throws him off.

The first time he sees your glowing form under the moonlight, he blinks twice, convinced he’s hallucinating. “Tch, what’s with the light show? Trying to blind me or something?” But secretly, he’s mesmerized.

Your habit of calmly handling disputes in the dorm (often between Ruggie and others) frustrates him. “You can’t just talk people into behaving,” he grumbles, only to watch you succeed every time.

Leona’s competitive side comes out when he learns about your strategic mind. Chess games with you become a weekly ritual, and losing to you annoys him more than he’ll admit.

Despite his gruffness, he’s deeply protective of you, especially when someone comments on your jellyfish-like features. “Say that again, and I’ll show you why you don’t mess with jellyfish.”

Sometimes, he watches you float gracefully in water, pretending he’s there for a nap. “Stop staring at me, Leona.” “Who’s staring? I’m just resting my eyes.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is immediately intrigued by your jellyfish traits and calm demeanor—after all, you’re a marine creature, and that’s his territory.

Your bioluminescence is something he secretly envies, though he’ll never admit it. “A marvelous ability,” he says while scribbling notes for future contracts.

Your strategic thinking makes you one of the few people who can keep up with him in negotiations. He offers you a job at the Lounge almost immediately, “to better utilize your talents.”

Whenever Floyd or Jade annoys him, Azul uses you as a buffer. “Perhaps you could… calm them down?” And, to his astonishment, it works. Even Floyd listens to you.

He’s absolutely fascinated by your glowing hair and jellyfish-like appendages. “Do they serve a specific function, or are they purely aesthetic?” he asks while trying not to sound overly eager.

Azul secretly finds your tranquil nature soothing. After a long day of scheming, he’ll seek your company under the guise of “strategic discussions,” but really, he just wants to hear your voice.

Jade Leech

Jade is utterly fascinated by you from the moment he meets you. Your resemblance to a jellyfish sparks his curiosity.

He constantly asks you questions about your biology, glowing abilities, and lifestyle. “Do you use your bioluminescence to lure prey, or is it purely decorative?”

Jade enjoys teasing you, especially when you’re peacefully floating in water. “You look so serene. It’s almost a shame to disturb you.” Then he splashes you.

He respects your calm and collected demeanor, but he’s determined to find out what flusters you. Watching your serene mask slip is his new favorite pastime.

If someone dares insult you, Jade’s smile grows even sharper. “I wouldn’t recommend making an enemy of a jellyfish, you know. They’re far more dangerous than they appear.”

He enjoys your company during his hikes, fascinated by how your glowing presence adds an ethereal beauty to the forest.

Floyd Leech

Floyd is absolutely obsessed with you. You’re a jellyfish, and jellyfish are cool—end of story.

He immediately nicknames you “Jelly,” much to your mild exasperation. “C’mon, Jelly! Let’s go do something fun!”

Floyd loves poking at your glowing features. “What happens if I touch this? Will it zap me?” (You have to swat his hand away repeatedly.)

Your calm nature intrigues him. “How do you stay so chill all the time? Don’t you ever wanna, like, flip out?” He sees it as a personal challenge to get you riled up.

He’s oddly protective of you. If anyone messes with you, Floyd’s mood sours instantly, and you have to calm him down before he does something drastic.

Floyd loves dragging you into the water to “swim like real jellyfish.” His playful nature contrasts hilariously with your serene floating.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus finds you absolutely enchanting. Your ethereal glow and calm presence remind him of a fairytale.

The first time he sees you glowing in the dark, he’s convinced you’re some sort of spirit. “Are you a creature of the night, summoned by the stars?” You laugh, which only confuses him more.

He adores your serene demeanor and often seeks your company when he’s feeling lonely. “You have a calming presence. It is… soothing.”

Your strategic mind impresses him. He occasionally consults you on matters of state, and your insight leaves him in awe.

Malleus is enchanted by your glowing features and bioluminescence. He often compares you to the stars and moon. “You shine as brightly as the night sky,” he says, his voice soft.

He’s protective of you, especially when others don’t understand your unique traits. “Anyone who dares mock your beauty will answer to me,” he declares, his aura dark and foreboding.

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is equal parts fascinated and exasperated by your serene and dreamy nature.

He struggles to reconcile your gentle demeanor with the strict order he upholds. “You can’t just let them get away with breaking rules.” But you always seem to handle things so effortlessly, he can’t help but feel a little envious.

The first time he sees your bioluminescence, he’s stunned. “W-What are you glowing for? Is that some sort of trick?” He secretly thinks it’s mesmerizing.

Your calmness has a soothing effect on him during his temperamental moments. When you gently suggest he take a deep breath, he can’t find it in himself to argue.

Your strategic mind earns his respect, especially when you help him resolve dorm conflicts with minimal drama. He finds himself seeking your counsel more often than he’d like to admit.

He tries to deny how much your presence comforts him, but when you glow softly under the moonlight, he’s reminded of the beauty of following one’s heart.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil finds you utterly captivating, both for your glowing beauty and your ability to remain so composed under pressure.

He immediately notices your bioluminescence and praises it as “natural elegance.” He may even use it as inspiration for his next photoshoot.

Vil admires your calm demeanor but insists on refining your presentation. “Grace comes naturally to you, but you must carry it with intention.”

Your ability to remain poised even under stress makes him jealous sometimes. He spends hours perfecting himself while you seem effortlessly radiant.

The two of you often engage in long conversations about leadership and balance. He’s impressed by your thoughtful insight, though he won’t always admit it.

He pretends not to care when others praise your ethereal glow, but he can’t help but feel proud, especially when you stand by his side at events.

Rook Hunt

Rook is absolutely enchanted by your jellyfish-inspired traits and ethereal aura.

The first time he sees your bioluminescence, he dramatically declares, “Magnifique! You are a creature of the heavens, a glowing gem beneath the sea!”

Rook constantly watches you, fascinated by the way you move and speak. He calls it research, but it’s really just admiration.

Your calmness intrigues him. He frequently tests your patience with his flamboyant antics, but you never falter, much to his delight.

He adores how your strategic mind contrasts with your soft demeanor. “You are as cunning as you are serene, ma chérie méduse.”

Rook writes poems inspired by your bioluminescent glow, claiming that no words could ever truly capture your beauty.

Rollo Flamme

Rollo is conflicted about you. Your calm, composed nature intrigues him, but your glowing features remind him of magic—something he loathes.

The first time he sees you glowing, he’s visibly unsettled. “Is this some kind of magic trick? I don’t trust it.” Yet, he can’t look away.

Your tranquil demeanor softens his usual disdain. He begrudgingly admits that you’re… tolerable, though his fascination with you grows daily.

Rollo’s jealousy flares whenever others praise your ethereal beauty. “They’re only bewitched by appearances,” he mutters, trying to convince himself he’s not affected.

Your intelligence earns his respect, though he won’t openly say it. He finds himself relying on your calm judgment more than he’d like.

Despite his feelings about magic, he catches himself enjoying the way your glow lights up dark spaces. It’s almost… comforting.

Masterlist

[whre4wanda]

Was It casual

Prompt: College Au.

Fuckboy Wanda x Reader

*Mature content ahead*

G!P Wanda x Reader

Fingering, oral, unprotected sex like once, jealousy, teasing, alcohol consumption, weed and vape consumptions, shotgunning, hot boxing, Wanda tends to be an ass, kind of angst, emotional Rollercoaster, arguing.

Your pov:

Was It Casual?

Tote bag slung across your shoulder, wind blowing through your freshly done hair with your earpods sat comfortably inside your ears, you walked to the next class that you had. Your last class of the day. You bobbed your head as you listened to your favorite song from one of your many playlists. And when another favorite song of yours came on, you couldn't help but increase the volume on your phone, the bass drumming in your ears shutting everything and everyone around you down especially when the ending to the song came, your fingers tapped against the phone in your hand as you hummed to yourself.

A few waves sent to other people and a smile here and there, you finally rounded the hall for your next lecture. Everything was smooth until a ball hit you on the head. You winced, the pain was dull but again, you'd just gotten your hair done so whoever decided to throw the ball your way would probably be receiving an earful from you any second from now.

You turned on your heels, a scowl already planted on your face as you looked at the white ball next to your converse shoes. You looked up, seeing a girl approach, a look of guilt and somewhat fascination on her face.

"Sorry, didn't expect the ball to go so far, think I'm getting kinda rusty."

"Maybe you shouldn't be on the team then Wanda."

"You forget I carry the volleyball team

detka." You hum, unimpressed before your body turns to the direction of your class.

"You look really beautiful by the way."

"Thanks." Wanda wants to say more to you, but she knows you'll shut her out. That's what you've been doing for the past few months of her trying to get your attention.

It all started the day you had your first class at NYU, a film class. The professor, a wild and carefree woman had instructed you all to introduce yourselves and so you did before you all sat down to ready to delve into the world of film. But then a brunette girl barged inside, her head help up high as she waved at the teacher.

"Maximoff. Late as usual."

"Sorry." The girl shrugged her shoulders before the woman pointed to a seat, the seat next to yours.

Wanda walked towards the row before she planted herself right next to you. She glanced at you, smiled then turned her head back to the teacher to pay attention. Boy, you thought she was really attractive. And without a doubt, she was. From her brunette hair, to her alluring green eyes, pink lips that held a cocky grin you'd soon come to hate and her posture slacked, but not in a bad way if that made any sense.

Wanda screamed player and you could smell it from a mile away. And your suspicions were confirmed once your friend and roommate told you more about the brunette.

"Maximoff? Which one. There's two of em."

"The girl. I don't know her name, she never mentioned it."

"Oh, that's Wanda Maximoff."

"So like, what's her deal? Is she single or?"

"Oh, you might wanna stay away from her. She's...how do I put this gently... A hoe."

"Oh."

"Yeah, she's not known for commitment. Sleeps with girls and ghosts them the next day. I mean, she's still hot though."

A nod of your head and Gwen nudges your shoulder.

"But hey, there's plenty of other girls on campus. You just need to look in the right places. Preferably the art classes. That's where you'll find a whole bunch of em." She jokes and you let out a soft chuckle.

_

_

Now, weeks had gone by and you had fully grasped the person that Wanda Maximoff truly was. Charming, persistent, smooth and really annoying.

The first time Wanda asks you out, it's not romantic. Not even close.

You're in the middle of grabbing your coffee on campus when a shadow falls over you. You already know who it is before you even look up.

"Hey, sweetheart," Wanda's voice is all silk and mischief, her signature smirk in place as she leans against the counter.

"I was thinking... you, me, dinner tonight. What do you say?" You don't even hesitate.

"No." Wanda blinks, tilting her head.

"No?"

"That's what I said," you reply smoothly, stirring your drink without sparing her a glance.

There's a beat of silence, and then she chuckles, low and amused.

"Wow. You didn't even think about it."

"I didn't need to."

"Ouch." She presses a hand to her chest like you've just wounded her.

"You break my heart, sweetheart." You finally look at her, raising a brow.

"You'd need to have one first."

Wanda whistles, seemingly impressed.

"Damn. You really don't like me, huh?"

"Oh, well, I wouldn't say I like you that much." You sip your coffee.

"I just don't like your reputation." Wanda smirks like that's the best compliment she's ever received.

"Can you blame me? The ladies love me." You roll your eyes.

"Exactly. That's why I'm not falling for your little act." Wanda leans in, her voice dropping lower.

"Who said it's an act?"

For a second, just a second, you hesitate. Her eyes are sharp, green like a forest at dusk, and there's something dangerous in the way she's watching you, like she wants to unravel you just to see what's underneath. But you know better. You know her kind. So, you meet her gaze head-on and smirk.

"You'll have to try harder than that, Maximoff because as we speak, a hairless cat is cuter than you. And that says a lot."

And then, just for fun, you brush past her and walk away. Wanda watches you go, lips curling into something between frustration and intrigue. Never had a girl turned her down. Ever. Sure she might sound cocky as hell but it was the truth. Wanda was a very charming woman. From high-school up till now. Everyone- man or woman would swoon to her just from a bat of her eyelashes.

Sure Wanda was somewhat evil and reckless but Wanda had a reputation to uphold. That and she hated commitment. So, she'd sleep with girls then ghost them the next day. It wasn't personal, just casual. But having a girl dismiss her flirtatious behavior genuinely made her ego falter for a moment, but she licked her lips before waking over to the coffee counter, where she then proceeded to flirt with the barista while waiting for her order.

As mentioned before, Wanda was extremely persistent. If Wanda Maximoff said she wanted a pony, hell Wanda Maximoff was going to get that pony. By fire, by force. The next time Wanda had asked you out was in your film class that she now actually attended. Obviously she hadn't been paying attention but that was besides the point.

You're packing up your notes in the lecture hall when Wanda slides into the seat beside you, draping herself over the desk like she has all the time in the world.

"Hey, gorgeous." Her voice is smooth, cocky. Predictable. You don't even look at her.

"No." Wanda blinks.

"I didn't even ask anything yet."

"You were going to," you say, slipping your laptop into your bag.

"So, no." She chuckles, leaning in.

"Alright, humor me-what was I going to ask?" You finally glance at her, unimpressed.

"Some variation of 'Go out with me, sweetheart.'" Wanda grins.

"Damn, you know me so well. That a yes then?"

You sigh once again.

"No." She feigns a wounded look, clutching her chest.

"Wow. Not even a second of consideration?"

"I don't need a second." You stand up, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"I know your type, Maximoff. You're not serious about anyone. You just like the chase." Wanda watches you with amused curiosity, like she's never been turned down this easily before. Well she hasn't but that's besides the point.

"And what if I said I was serious about you?" You narrow your eyes.

"Then I'd say you're full of shit." That makes her laugh, a real, genuine laugh. She runs a hand through her hair, shaking her head.

"Alright, alright. You got me."

You step around her, heading for the exit, but she calls after you, voice teasing.

"You'll say yes one day, sweetheart."

You don't stop walking, but you can't stop the small smirk that tugs at your lips.

"Try again, Maximoff."

_

_

The library is quiet, the low hum of whispers and shuffling pages filling the space around you. You're deep in your notes, highlighter in hand, when a familiar presence slides into the seat across from you.

"Hey, studious." You don't even need to look up. Wanda Maximoff. You sigh, highlighting another sentence.

"Go away, Wanda."

"Rude," she tuts, leaning forward on her elbows.

"Is that any way to talk to a friend?" A snort and then you glance up at her with furrowed brows. Then your attention is back on your books.

"We're not friends." She smirks.

"Yet."

You look up once again, giving her a flat stare.

"What do you want? Are you here to bother me or something?"

"What if I'm keeping you company, I know you enjoy it."

"That's very presumptuous of you." Wanda grins, tilting her head.

"There's a party at my place tonight. You should come." You snort once again.

"Not happening."

"Oh, come on," she purrs.

"All that studying is gonna fry your brain. You deserve a break."

You go back to your book.

"My grades say otherwise. Can't say the same about yours though."

"My bed says otherwise, too," she teases, and you flick your highlighter at her. She dodges, laughing and you grumble in annoyance.

"Wanda, I'm not going to be one of your randoms," you say, rolling your eyes.

She presses a hand to her chest, feigning offense.

"I would never." Then, smirking she leans forward.

"Not unless you wanted to." You give her a look, and she chuckles.

"Alright, alright. No ulterior motives. Just a party, just some fun. What's the worst that could happen?"

You exhale slowly, tapping your pen against your notebook. You shouldn't. You know you shouldn't. But Wanda is watching you, like she already knows she's got you teetering on the edge.

"I'll think about it," you mutter.

Wanda grins like she's already won.

"I'll take that as a yes, detka." You shake your head, regretting everything already.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't," she sings, standing up and tossing you a wink before walking away.

Annoyingly Charming.

"You're still coming to my party right." Wanda yelled as yet again you turned to head to your class.

"I don't know, feeling quite lightheaded. I mean I was just hit with a ball by a rude stranger." Wanda purses her lips before tossing the ball back to her crew.

"You promised."

"I didn't promise shit. Besides, I think you'll find enough entertainment even when I'm not there."

"But-"

"Goodbye Wanda." You finally walk to your class but there's a small smirk sitting on your lips.

_

_

The place where Wanda and her brother Pietro had decided to host their party was extremely and unnecessarily big. You were certain that the twins came from money. Music blared through the sound system that you knew must have costed thousands. There were variety of drinks sitting on the counter in the kitchen, and of course, it was none of that cheap liquor you'd find at any other party, except Starks. Your hand slid across the expensive bottle, examining the brand before placing the bottle down. You slid past the people in the kitchen, grabbing a cup for yourself before filling it halfway with a drink.

Your gaze shifted to the multiple people in the room, in search for the one who had initially invited you here. You looked good, as per usual. Dressed in a black top that showed minimal cleavage with your favorite pair of flared pants, layered with gold jewelry and topped off with a dash of your favorite perfume, you practically radiated confidence.

You could feel eyes on you, you were certain of it. The attention was good but still not what you were quite looking for, apparently. Minutes later, Gwen had stumbled into the party, clearly already tipsy. She clung to you as she giggled and you shook your head in annoyance and amusement as the two of you met up with your other group of friends. Your drink had long been discarded, now replaced with a cherry flavored vape. Sure smoking was bad, but it's not like you did it every day. It was either that or Molly and you still wanted to live. And other than that, you barely drank alcohol. But unfortunately for you, since you were sober half of the time, this meant that you'd most likely deal with drunk friends just as you were right now.

As your friends partied their asses off, you decided to step out into the cool air and luckily enough, you had found an empty room that had a balcony. One drag and you exhaled the smoke along with all the stresors of the week. It was peaceful until the balcony door shut and you could smell her as she stood next to you.

"And here I was thinking I wouldn't see your pretty face." Wanda mumrued with her signature smirk. Your eyes wandered down her body, taking her outfit in. A grey sweatshirt and black jeans with her brunette hair down, truly simply but she managed to pull it off, like she always did.

"Decided to see what the hype about all your parties was about."

"You impressed yet?"

"Nope." Wanda's hand clutched to her chest as she feigned offense and you rolled your eyes at her antics.

"Here to bother me Maximoff."

"Not at all, just gracing you with my glorious company." You snorted before taking a final drag from the pod in your hand and Wanda whistled lowly.

"Didn't take you for that kinda gal." Wanda grinned as the cherry flavor invaded her nose.

"And I thought you had game, guess we're both wrong."

"I could prove you wrong if you spent one night with me." Another snort and you were walking away from the brunette girl.

"Have fun with yourself Wanda because I'm not interested." She made a sad face before she followed you out of the bedroom. And then you two were walking down to the main party where both her friends and your friends and a few others were gathered in a circle, in a separate room.

"Oh you two, just in time. We're playing games!" Tony slurred while raising his cup into the air.

"What game?" You asked as you settled on an empty space on the couch.

"Truth or dare. The classic." He yelled while others whistled. You shrugged your shoulders.

"Why not." Wanda placed herself just opposite you, her gaze never leaving yours as the game began.

The game was going smoothly, harmless dares, embarrassing truths, until it was your turn. Someone grinned at you mischievously.

"Truth or dare?" They asked and you nursed your drink before answering.

"Truth."

"Nah, you're taking dare." They mumbled and you scoffed.

"I dare you to kiss someone in the circle," they said, and the group erupted in "ooohs" and laughter.

You hesitated, feeling Wanda's gaze on you, but she was playing it cool, leaning back with her signature smirk. Not wanting to make it awkward, you turned to the person beside you-a cute girl from your class, Darcy to be exact, and you gave her a quick kiss. It was nothing deep, just a peck before you moved back to your spot.

But when you looked at Wanda again, her smirk was gone. Her jaw was tight, and her green eyes had darkened. She reached for her drink, taking a slow sip. Wanda was pissed. You could tell by the way she lounged back in her seat, arms crossed, eyes fixed on her phone like she wasn't even paying attention to the game anymore.

But she was.

You had kissed someone else in front of her, and now she was sulking like a brat. Not that she'd ever admit it. After the game ended, she avoided you-at least, she tried to. You found her outside, leaning against the railing of the balcony, nursing her drink with a scowl on her face.

"You good?" you asked, stepping beside her.

"Peachy." You sighed.

"It was just a dare, Wanda." She scoffed in retaliation.

"Right. A dare." She finally turned to you, eyes glinting.

"You didn't have to pick her, though." You smirked.

"Who else was I supposed to pick?"

Her gaze flickered to your lips, then back up.

"I can think of someone."

You tilted your head.

"Oh? Who?"

She licked her lips, stepping closer. "You're not that dense, detka, but you know what, that was cute," she murmured, voice low, fingers tracing the hem of your top just above your cleavage. And you didn't move.

"Cute?"

"Didn't know you were into kissing just anyone. Thought you had standards."

You raised an eyebrow.

"Jealous, Maximoff?" She chuckled, leaning in so her lips brushed against your ear.

"Me? Jealous? Please. I just think it's unfair, really."

"Unfair?"

"Yeah," she murmured, tilting your chin up.

"That kiss was weak. If you're gonna kiss someone, might as well make it worth it."

Before you could respond, her lips were on yours-slow, deep, possessive. She tasted like vodka and something sweet, and when she finally pulled away, you were breathless.

"See?" she whispered, smug as ever. "Now that's how you kiss someone." Your heart was beating rapidly as Wanda's green eyes looked down on yours. The tension between the two of you was suffocating and without a second, you pulled her in. Your lips pressed onto hers roughly, hands pulling her by her shirt. Wanda's hands fell to your waist as the two of you battled for dominance. Her hands cupped your ass lightly and just when Wanda was hoping for more, you separated from her lips, your tongue licking her lips before giving her a final peck then moving away from her completely.

"Hmm not bad I guess." You mumbled while wiping the corner of your lips. Wanda was still fuzzy in the mind, her hooded eyes now glimmering with lust.

"See you around." You walked out of the bedroom, leaving the brunette girl aroused and confused, yet wanting more.

_

_

Monday morning hit like a truck. You barely had time to process the heated kiss you and Wanda had shared at the party before the week started. And honestly? You weren't about to dwell on it. Because why should you?

Wanda was a player. A tease. A walking and talking temptation wrapped in leather jackets and cocky smirks. You weren't about to let yourself get caught up in her game.

So, you did what any self-respecting person would do after kissing the campus "Heartbreaker". You simply moved on. Or at least, you tried to. As you rounded the corner to your usual Cafe, you opened the door before your gaze roamed around in search of your group of friends.

You spotted Wanda at your usual lunch spot, lounging at a table with some of her friends, and a new blonde girl. She was leaning in close, whispering something that made the girl giggle, fingers ghosting over her arm. It was the same routine, the same charm she always used. And you refused to care. Because there was nothing to care about.

You sat with your friends, pointedly ignoring the way Wanda's eyes found you the second you walked in. You were mid-conversation when a shadow loomed over your table and you could smell her.

"Hey, detka," Wanda's familiar voice purred. You didn't look up.

"What do you want, Maximoff?"

She tsked, plopping down beside you like she actually belonged there.

"Why so hostile? You weren't complaining about my presence on Saturday night." Her grin grew and you scoffed at her remark.

Your friends exchanged glances, sensing the tension. You exhaled, finally meeting her gaze.

"Must've been the alcohol then." Wanda's smirk didn't falter, but her eyes darkened. "That so?" She leaned in, voice dropping. "You think kissing me was just a drunken mistake?"

"Yes. Besides it was a dare, wasn't it?" You referred to the first kiss because the second one meant nothing. You then crossed your arms.

"Doesn't matter anyways. You've clearly moved on." Your gaze flickered to the girl she left at her table.

Wanda chuckled, tilting her head.

"Oh, detka... you really think that? Her fingers brushed your knee under the table, subtle but intentional. Your breath caught, but you forced yourself to stay composed.

"You're not as special as you think, Maximoff." She grinned.

"You keep saying that, but you're the one still thinking about me."

"In your dreams Maximoff." You mumbled before waving her away with your hand.

"Shoo shoo, your booty call awaits for you." Wanda's eyebrows rose up in shock, but with a somewhat amused huff she walks away, and this time with a newfound determination to get you.

_

_

Was It Casual?

Another party that you'd been invited to by the brunette girl. Part of you wondered why you always showed up to her parties if you "despised" her so much. You had bumped into one of Wanda's friends, Carol, who mentioned that the brunette girl was somewhere in the backyard apparently waiting for you. You rolled your eyes and Carol only smirked before she patted your shoulder.

At first you did nothing with the information Carol gave to you, instead you chose to hang around a few people before you eventually wanted air. Any excuse to see Wanda too. You should have left though.

It started as an accident.

You weren't even supposed to be here-sitting on some random couch outside at her "small" kickback, cherry-flavored vapor lingering on your lips while the brunette haired girl rolled a blunt like she had all the time in the world.

She looked too good like this. Loose hoodie, messy long hair, rings glinting under the dim lighting as her fingers worked effortlessly. You told yourself you'd only sit with her this once. Just out of curiosity. And maybe to entertain her for a while too.

Nothing more.

But then she looked up at you, that cocky glint in her green eyes, and suddenly, it felt like you were playing with fire. And perhaps you were. Wanda licked the edge of the rolling paper, sealing it shut, and that's when you noticed it.

The flash of silver.

You blinked. No way.

"Got a new piercing, Maximoff?" you asked, tilting your head. She grinned, flicking her tongue out just enough to show off the shiny silver barbell.

"Mmhmm," she hummed, dragging her teeth over her lower lip.

"You like it?"

You exhaled slowly, taking a pull from your vape. The sweet cherry flavor coated your tongue, but it did nothing to distract from the way Wanda was looking at you.

"Didn't take you for the type," you said, feigning nonchalance. She smirked, lighting the blunt with a flick of her lighter.

"Oh, detka... you'd be surprised what I'm into."

And then she took a slow, deep inhale, holding your gaze as she exhaled-smoke curling around her lips like something sinful. You crossed your legs, shifting in your seat.

"You're ridiculous."

"Am I?" Wanda took another drag, then, in one smooth motion, leaned in and blew the smoke towards you. It swirled around your face, mixing with the scent of cherry from your vape. The tension was thick, the air charged with something dangerous. Wanda licked her lips, again, the silver piercing catching the light. You clenched your jaw.

Wanda just grinned.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?" You scoffed, taking another pull of your vape just to distract yourself. "You're trying too hard, Maximoff."

"Am I?" She leaned back, legs spreading slightly, watching you with amusement. "You can come tatse if you like? Or do you wanna be the first to try it out?" Wanda asked while flicking her tongue and although you wanted to scoff, your mind was swirling with the utmost fantasies.

Fuck. You should've left the second Wanda flicked that damn tongue piercing at you. You should've rolled your eyes, finished your smoke, and walked away like none of this affected you. But you didn't.

Because when she leaned in-lips barely inches from yours, voice dripping with smug satisfaction-you felt it. The tension that had been simmering between you two for weeks, stretching tighter and tighter until it was on the verge of snapping. And that's not the only thing that you could feel.

"You know... this piercing isn't just for decoration, detka," she murmured, voice low, teasing. Your breath hitched. Wanda grinned, like she knew. Because in fact, she did know.

"Bet you're wondering what it feels like," she continued, dragging the tip of her tongue across her lower lip, letting the silver barbell glint under the dim light. You swallowed, pulse hammering against your throat.

"I-"

"Go ahead," she whispered, tilting her head.

"Say what you're thinking." You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to smirk.

"That you're desperate for attention?" She chuckled, fingers ghosting over your knee.

"Or maybe you're desperate for something else." The blunt was forgotten now, smoldering in the ashtray as the air between you grew thick-dangerous.

Wanda leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"Let me show you what it feels like."

"Cocky little shit." And that was it. That was the moment you snapped.

_

The second you pulled Wanda into the darkened bedroom, the air shifted. Gone was the teasing, the smug arrogance. Now, it was all need. It was the sharp inhale she took when you pushed her against the door, your body pressing flush against hers. It was the way her hands gripped your waist, nails digging in just enough to leave a mark. It was the way your lips crashed together, no hesitation, no teasing-just raw, messy, desperate hunger.

"You like running your mouth so much, huh?" you murmured against her lips, nipping at her lower one before pulling back. You could feel her hardened member on your leg, and it pushed you even further. She chuckled, even as she chased your lips, eyes dark with something dangerous.

"And you like pretending you're not obsessed with me." Your fingers curled around the collar of her hoodie, yanking her down so your lips ghosted over hers. "Shut up, Maximoff." You didn't wait for a response.

You kissed her-deep, demanding, all tongue and heat. And damn it, that piercing. It was all you could focus on as it rolled against your own tongue, sending a shiver down your spine.

Wanda groaned into the kiss, gripping your hips and flipping you both so you were against the door now. Her knee pushed between your legs, her body pressing you firmly against the wood.

"Told you," she breathed against your lips.

"You love it." You gasped as she kissed down your jaw, then lower, dragging her tongue along your throat, the cool metal of her piercing making your skin burn. Your fingers tangled in her red hair, tugging hard enough to pull a groan from her.

"Cocky," you muttered. Wanda laughed, hot against your neck.

"And yet, you're the one letting me do this." She rolled her hips against yours, slow, deliberate.

You clenched your jaw, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a sound and she noticed. Oh, she noticed.

"Oh?" Wanda smirked, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

"Trying to stay quiet?" Her fingers dragged down your sides, light, teasing, making your skin ache for more.

You narrowed your eyes. Two can play this game.

Before she could react, you grabbed her wrists, spinning her so she was the one pressed against the door now. Her breath hitched, but the smirk never left her lips.

"Finally fighting back detka?"

You leaned in, your breath warm against her lips.

"I'm done playing, Maximoff." And then it was your turn to take control.

You kissed her-hard, claiming, your hands exploring every inch of her. Wanda let out a shaky exhale, her nails scratching down your back, pulling you impossibly closer. She liked this. Liked when you pushed back, when you matched her intensity. The push and pull, the battle for dominance-it only made everything hotter. Wanda groaned against your lips as your teeth grazed her neck, your hands slipping under her hoodie, your fingers tracing her bare skin.

"You gonna let me win tonight?" you murmured against her collarbone. She laughed breathlessly, tugging you back up for another searing kiss.

"Not a chance, detka." Wanda surprised you by picking you up which made you yelp as she guided you to the bed. She placed you down, hands already pulling her hoodie up before she was left in a tank top.

With a breathless sigh, you watch her expectantly and Wanda chuckles at your impatient figure.

"Oh you're needy."

"You're as needy as I am Maximoff. I can feel it." You remark while your hand presses against her crotch. Wanda hums, her hips unconsciously moving in your hand. She mumbles a soft "fuck" before moving forward to kiss you. You moan into her mouth, your hand still palming the growing bulge.

"You gonna keep teasing me or are you actually gonna fuck me Maximoff?" You asked with a huff and Wanda's cocky grin grew.

"Want me that bad huh?"

"As if you haven't been chasing me. You finally have me in your bed and now you're waisting so much time. I could leave you know."

Wanda smirks her hands moving up to cup your breasts.

"And where else would you go where you'd get a good fuck?"

"My dorm. I'm capable of fucking myself."

"I'd love to watch you do that." With a huff, you pull Wanda in for another kiss. Your teeth clash with one another, the silver bud nudging your tongue in the best way possible while she practically dry humps you.

Wanda slips your shirt off, her eyes focused on your breasts that were practically spilling out of the lacy red fabric you had on. She lowers her head down, just to lick a stripe in between your tits. Her teasing doesn't just stop there. Her fingers ghost underneath your skirt, to press against your covered center. Your back arches off the bed from the mere contact and you fight back the sounds, you don't want to give her the satisfaction.

"Come on baby, I know you wanna sing for me. To make noise for me." She purrs, her hands finally moving to take your bra off.

The fabric is thrown carelessly onto the floor and that's when you feel Wanda wrap her tongue around your nipple and fuck it felt good. Your head was thrown back in pleasure, your hands finding their way into her hair as Wanda sucked and bit your nipple. She made a show, eyes watching you immensely as she flicked her tongue around your nipple, making sure that you felt the piercing. A moan escaped you and Wanda was satisfied.

She did the same to your other nipple, her fingers trailing underneath your skirt, ghosting over your pussy.

"You look so good beneath me." She purred and you scoffed.

"Just fuck me Maximoff."

"Planning on it." She dips her head to the crook of your neck, where she bites the skin harshly before soothing it with her tongue.

"No marks." You whine.

"Oops, too late." She smirked. Her head dipped lower, her mouth leaving trails on your stomach.

Your hips twitch in anticipation once she finally hooks her fingers onto your skirt to pull it down. Next is your panties, which are discarded quicker than the speed of light. Wanda stares at your wet cunt in amazement. Her finger rubs through your slit just to see how wet you are. You were wet.

"I get you this wet huh?"

"I get you that hard huh?" You retaliate, your hand still palming her cock which makes the grin on her face grow.

Wanda's tongue darts out slowly towards your cunt, but she doesn't actually taste you, no. She licks the apex of your thighs just to hear the sound of your whines and whimpers. But unfortunately you don't give her that satisfaction because your hands yank her head to where you need her.

"Eat me."

"Greedy little thing." But nevertheless, she listens to you.

The first contact of her tongue on your pussy has a wanton moan escaping your lips. Wanda moans in delight too. The taste of your pussy has her gripping your thighs just to pull you forward so she could get a better taste. Your moans bounced off of the walls as she ate you out greedily. The silver bud would flick onto your clit in the best way possible, practically making you see stars. But just as you reach the peak of your pleasure, Wanda pulls away and the whine that you let out was music to her ears.

"Relax baby, I want you to cum on my cock yeah? I promise it'll feel so much better."

"We'll see."

"Is that a challenge detka?"

"Maybe. Might as well prove that the rumors are true." The laugh that the brunette let's out is almost sadistic.

"Oh baby, you have no idea." Wanda takes off be pants, now left in Calvin Klein underwear and you stare at the very visible print, your legs involuntarily spreading and she likes to see that.

A wrapper is pulled out from the side drawer, and she takes her time to take the condom out before putting it on. You roll your eyes before you pull her back in for a heated kiss. She laughs, but spreads your legs further. She hums into your mouth as she slowly inserts herself inside of you. A sigh and then another as she fills you up. Your hands claw at the sheets beneath you, your stomach already tightening.

"god..."

"Already?" That same cocky grin as she slowly begins to thrust inside of you, the smell of vanilla wrapping around you as her hands wrap around your waist.

"Fuck, you're so warm." She groans, thrusting deeper inside of you. From breathless sighs to moans, Wanda's thrusts are slow and deep before they're rough and fast.

"You're tighter than fucking door hinges."

"F... Fuck-" A particular harsh thrust has you clenching around her, making her grunt.

"Fuck you." You pant and she hums.

"We're halfway there already." Your eyes roll back but for a different reason this time and she takes pleasure in knowing that she was the reason for this.

You'd spent weeks running away from her, then tiptoeing around her and now here you were, in her bed about to get fucked senseless. With a newfound determination, Wanda fucks into you so hard, the beds frame hits the wall repeatedly. Her lips are on your neck, sucking the flesh before nipping it with her teeth. You can't even fight back because your breathe was being taken away.

Her cock rammed into you, as it deliciously hit your G-spot. Wanda pecked your lips before she was back on your neck, biting the skin once again.

"Wanda-"

"Yeah detka? Do you feel good?"

"So good." She moaned in your ear as your velvety walls tightened around her.

"You gonna cum?"

"Yes yes yes!" Your legs wrapped around her waist, pushing her even deeper inside of you, which resulted in the both of you moaning in pure ecstasy.

“So fuckin’ tight f’me, yeah?” a small groan leaves Wanda's lips as she looks down, watching the outline of the tip of her cock appear in and out of your stomach.

“Fuck, you feel me angel?” You nod your head as Wanda's fingers graze on your clit. Your back arches off of the bed, your mouth falling agape as a silent moan escapes your lips and your orgasm comes crashing down on you like a tidal wave. As if that weren't enough the brunette girl easily manhandled you so you were on your stomach.

"Well this is such a sight." She refers to your ass that's now in the air, all for her to use and abuse.

Her hand delivers a firm smack to your ass that has you jolting forward. She hums and delivers another one and another and you're certain that you're in for a long night.

_

_

The sun was barely rising, casting soft golden light across Wanda’s dimly lit bedroom. The sheets were a mess, tangled around your bare legs, still warm from the night before. It had been good. So good. But you knew better. You knew what this was—what she was. So you slid out of bed carefully, trying not to wake her as you reached for your clothes.

You barely got your skirt on before a sleepy voice stopped you.

"Sneaking out already?" You turned, only to find Wanda watching you from the bed, her brunette hair a wild mess, lips kiss-swollen, eyes still hazy from sleep.

"Didn’t think you were the type to cuddle," You shot back, keeping your tone light. She smirked, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"You don’t know what type I am." You chuckled dryly.

"No? I think I’ve got a pretty good idea." Wanda stretched, the sheets slipping lower, revealing just enough to make your breath hitch. She noticed.

"You sure you don’t wanna stay a little longer? I could make it worthwhile." she teased, voice low, tempting.

You hesitated, for a second. But you weren’t gonna be one of them. The ones who stayed hoping for more.

So you forced a smirk, pulling your shirt over your head.

"Tempting, Maximoff. But we both know what this was."

Something flashed in her expression—something quick, uncertain. But then, it was gone. Replaced with her usual cocky grin.

"Right," she said smoothly, leaning back against the pillows.

"Just a good time." You nodded, ignoring the way your chest ached.

"Exactly." You left before she could say anything else.

And Wanda? She stared at the empty space beside her for way too long—wondering why, for the first time, she hated waking up alone.

_

_

You didn’t expect to see Wanda again so soon. But when you walked into the campus coffee shop later that day, she was already there, sitting with some girl, her signature smirk in place, fingers lazily twirling a strand of the girl’s hair. You shouldn’t care. But damn it, it still stung. So you ignored them, ordering your coffee and pulling out your phone like she wasn’t even there.

It worked, that was until Wanda’s voice cut through the noise.

"Left in such a rush this morning, I couldn't even say goodbye properly." You froze. Slowly, you turned to face her. She was watching you, her expression unreadable, but her eyes? They were daring you to react. The girl beside her looked between you two, clearly confused. You forced a shrug.

"Didn’t think you’d care." Something flickered in Wanda’s gaze. Something dangerous.

She tilted her head, hands tucked in the pocket of her jeans.

"You always run after a good fuck, or was that just special for me?" The words should’ve hurt. But instead,  it fucking pissed you off. You walked up to her, leaning down just enough so your faces were close.

"Don’t worry, Maximoff. It was fun, but I won’t make the mistake of coming back."

Then, without another glance, you walked out. And for the first time, Wanda felt something ugly clawing at her chest. She should’ve let you go. But she already knew—this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

_

_

It truly wasn't over. Somewhere, somehow, you found yourself tangled in Wanda's silk sheets, spaced out from yet another mind blowing orgasm. It wasn't the second time, the third or the fourth. Hell it wasn't even the fourteenth time. So much for keeping your guard up.

You watched the brunette girl get up, putting an oversized shirt on before grabbing a lighter from her drawer. She turned to you with raised brows and you tilted your own head in confusion.

"You gonna sit there or follow me?" She asked and you frowned in confuison.

Wanda let's out a sigh before she picks a shirt from her chair and throws it to you. You catch it and she gestures for you to put it on before she walks out to the balcony. You put it on and before you know it, your feet are padding on the hardwood floor, following the brunettes direction. You find Wanda sitting on one of the chairs outside, lazily rolling up a blunt. You take the seat next to her, watching her finish rolling it up before giving it a lick to seal it shut.

Then she grabs her lighter, flicks it and sets it on. Wanda inhales the smoke before exhaling it. You watch her in silence and she then turns to you before smirking.

"Take a picture, might last longer."

"No thanks Maximoff. I'm alright." She chuckles but pats her lap.

"Don't sit so far now." You roll your eyes but move closer to her before placing yourself on her lap.

She takes another drag then closes the distance between the two of you. Wanda's warm lips are on yours, and the two of you separate before you exhale the earthy smoke. She takes another drag then blows it towards your face. The two of you sit like this for another ten minutes and slowly your hips begin to rock on hers. You can still feel her, and it was as if the weed had heightened your senses and made you extremely horny. Well, hornier than before.

Wanda hums before your hand grabs the almost finished blunt out of her hand to set it aside onto the ashtray. You press your lips onto hers and before you know it the two of you are having a heated makeout session. Wanda's hands trail beneath your, her, shirt as she bunches it to your hips. You're still bare, wet and ready for her. She hums as you pull her shirt up, her dick still hard from before. Your hand palms her and Wanda sighs into your mouth.

Your body feels warm, lighter, as if you were floating on cloud nine and you probably were. You position yourself on top of her cock, shuddering as she fills you completely.

"Oh fuck." The whimper falls from your lips and Wanda sighs too. You felt even warmer, even tighter even though she'd fucked you many times before.

Your hips moved in circles, just the way Wanda liked it. Her hands were firmly placed on your hips before guiding you up and down. This was reckless, stupid. Anyone could see you two but you didn't care, not when it felt so fucking good. You began to ride Wanda with vigor, her cock manged to hit your G-spot multiple times in the best way possible.

"So fucking good." She mumbled into the crook of your neck before biting your earlobe softly. There was something about the way she held you as you rode her, it was softer and more passionate than usual.

Your moans were soft, breathless in her ear as you bounced up and down.

"Mhmmm, yes." You whined as Wanda's nipped at your neck.

"N-no.. no marks." You whispered but Wanda didn't listen, she never listened. Your orgasm was approaching as you rode her even faster.

"W-wanda." You croaked out as your high was approaching.

"Yeah baby?" She asked breathlessly.

"Close." Was all you managed to mumble as your hands tangled themselves up in her hair.

"Cum for me." She cooed and just then you felt yourself falling apart on her. She groaned, feeling your walls clench around her and soon she followed, having an orgasm of her own. She held you and kissed you like you mattered. And maybe you did, just for that moment. You separated from her before letting a breathless chuckle past your lips.

"Someone could've seen us." You mumbled and Wanda shrugged.

"Felt good didn't it?" Yes. Yes it did. And that's what worried you. The way she was looking at you, cheeks covered in a pink tint, lips swollen from your doing and eyes glinting with something you couldn't name. That worried you more than you'd like to admit. You're supposed to be Casual.

_

_

Feelings. A very funny and unpredictable thing. Feelings. Something that should have never gotten into the mix between you and Wanda. None of you had any reason to get jealous, and even if you did, there wasn't much you could do because you swore that this would just be a fun, and spontaneous thing. But the fights were there. Sometimes they were ridiculous. Just an exchange of words that would soon turn into breathless moans as your bodies were pressed against one another.

But this time Wanda really managed to tick your buttons. You decided to pitch up to one of her games. Watching her play definitely did something to you. How she'd run all over the court or when she took the lead whenever she had to because Wanda took her role seriously, or how she looked effortlessly good just after her game. You'd expect Wanda to pay you the least bit of attention, but clearly she had other things planned on her agenda.

As you moved towards Wanda after the successful game had ended, you watched her from a far as a few girls approached her. And then her flirtatious behavior started as if you weren't just a few feet away from her. Wanda laughed, bit her lip and smirked the way she always did whenever she flirted with you, and something inside you burned.

It angered you that Wanda was behaving this way, but what angered you the most was that you actually cared. Why the fuck did you care? Wanda's gaze eventually landed on yours and she smiled before excusing herself from those girls.

"Came to watch me play I see."

"You're not that special." "You mumbled, feigning nonchalance. Wanda tilted her head but shrugged her shoulders.

"You mind waiting for me? Just gotta chnage and I'll be out. "

Sure." Try not flirting with anyone on your way to the locker room. The words sat on your tongue but you pushed them aside.

You two then went to a bar that was just a few blocks away from your dorms. You sat at the bar, watching Wanda work her charm again and it angered you. Furiously. But it wasn't just that. It was the way Wanda paid attention to her phone in front of you, the way she'd laugh at something or the flicker of a notification from some random girl. Or maybe it was the fact that you saw a nude on her phone from another random girl.

It was uncalled for really because you two weren't official but she could of at least pretended to hide it.

"Not official." Was waht she kept repeating and it pissed you off, immensely. You and Wanda fought that night. You both exchanged words but this time you'd kicked her out of your dorm room, claiming that you'd never want to see her again. And she left without another say of words. Because what was she supposed to say?

That night, you ended up blocking her because maybe you needed space from her to really get over the fact that you were catching feelings for her. You were keen on ignoring the brunette girl until she finally maned up and apologized to you. But she didn't and neither did she seek out to you.

You tried avoiding the brunette girl and it worked for a short period of time before her annual costume party invite came.

"Wouldn't be the same without you."

You laughed at the caption. How ridiculous was she. You tried ignoring it but then you thought to yourself. "Why the hell not?"

So you dolled yourself up, in a gorgeous and Sinful Jassica Rabbit's costume. You had the body for it, why not show it off. Everything about you was intentional: the glossy lips, the thigh-high slit, the scent Wanda used to bury her face in after sex. But this wasn't for her, it was for you.

Your friend dragged you to the party, and you laughed at her costume.

"And what exactly are you supposed to be?"

"I'm a blunt." She grinned and you fought back a laugh while shaking your head. You two walked into the party and as soon as she stepped in, she was gone.

You rolled your eyes but walked in, catching many eyes. And obviously one of them being Wanda's. Wanda could tell you were there without even having to look at you. She could smell your familiar scent and once she turned around, her mouth fell slightly agape at the sight of you. You walked in with grace, your smile widening as you saw a few other friends. But not once did you glance her way and that pissed her off.

Wanda's grip tightened on the bottle she held. Her gaze was unwavering as she watched you talk to anyone and everyone but her. Sure she tried to flirt with other girls but it wasn't working it since she saw you at every corner. And when you started dancing with one of the other girls on her team, she completely lost it. Especially when you finally locked eyes with her. Your gaze was unwavering as you danced with her, she could see the twitch of your lips as the girls hands met your waist. The eye contact didn't falter until she watched her teammate whisper something in your ear that made you giggle.

"Hey, what's got your panties twisted?" Tony grinned and Wanda sent him a glare roughly pressing her bottle over to his chest. He grunted and with the blink of an eye, Wanda was gone. He shrugged his shoulders before bringing the bottle up to his lips.

Wanda walked over to you before pushing the girl that was in front of you away. The girl mumbled her disagreements but she couldn't hear much and neither could you when you felt Wanda drag you away from the girl. You complained, as she led you through the dark hallway of the house before stopping at a secluded corner.

"What the hell is your problem?" You asked and Wanda's jaw clenched.

“Didn’t think you’d show,” she said, voice low. You didn’t give her anything.

“Yet here I am.”

“You look good,” she added.

“Too good to be pretending like you didn’t come here to drive me insane.” You met her gaze, calm and unreadable.

“Didn’t come here for you.” Her smile twitched.

“So that little act downstairs? Just coincidence?” You tilted your head.

“Why are you so bothered, Wanda? You said we were just casual. You made it clear.” She stepped closer, voice dipping. “Yeah but that doesn't give you the right to come here dressed like this while grinding on another girl."

"But you can flirt with others in front of me?"

"Don't start."

"You brought me here, so if you're going to keep bullshitting me, maybe I'll go fuck her instead." Wanda let's out a scoff.

"You're ridiculous, besides I didn't mean what I said in a bad way."  You let out a soft, humorless laugh.

“You always say that after the damage is done.” She licked her lips, faltering.

“You blocked me. You cut me off.”

“And you earned it.”

You moved past her—slow, smooth, controlled—but she grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.

“I miss you,” she breathed, eyes wide now, raw.

“I thought I’d feel better once I had space, but I don’t. You’re still everywhere.” You leaned in, close enough that her breath caught.

“You miss having control, Wanda. Not me.” She tried to kiss you but you turned your face away.

“You don't get to have me whenever you're bored. Go fuck with someone else. "

You pulled back gently, leaving her there—eyes wide, hands empty, mouth open and trembling. But Wanda grabs your wrist again, she's not done.

“Listen, I know I fucked up,” she murmurs,

“But you can’t look at me like that. Like I’m nothing now.” You stay quiet. Let her unravel.

“I hated watching people touch you tonight,” she admits.

“I hated the way you smiled at them. The way you ignored me. Like I never had my mouth all over you, like you never moaned my name like a prayer.” Her words are messy. Desperate. And it’s working.

“I wanted to ruin their hands. Their smiles. I wanted to remind you whose name you used to cry out when it was 3AM and your legs were—" You shove her against the hallway wall before she can finish. Her breath catches. You grab her jaw, eyes locked.

“You don’t get to talk like that,” you whisper,

“Not after what you said to me.” Wanda’s voice shakes.

“Then let me make it up to you." She whispered. And there she was, that devious Wanda who always manged to miraculously make things better. Wanda turned you around so that you were pressed against the wall before she knelt down.

You gasped trying to move Wanda's head away from your center, but Wanda's hands were already trailing up to your pussy. Her nose was on your thigh, just inhaling the scent of you. She licked your thigh, eyes locked on the way your face scrunched up.

"You're a dick."

"I know baby."

"I hate you."

"I know baby." She whispered while her other hand pushed your dress to the side.

She lowers your panties until their hanging on your ankles before her face is in between your thighs. Her tongue flicks your clit and then you're gone. Slowly you're forgetting why you were even mad at her in the first place. You're too focused on the way she was making you feel. The way that silver bud flicked into you. The way her hands felt like home. Wanda moaned as her mouth wrapped onto your clit.

Your head felt back so hard it made a thump sound. But you couldn't care about the pain because you were so focused on the approaching orgasm. And wands fastened her pace once your hips rode her tongue in that way you'd always do it. And when you finally came, she was moving upwards for you to taste yourself on her tongue. Then she was unbuttoning the buttons on her jeans, and then she was inside of you. She moaned in delight. You felt so good.

She began fucking you in the hallway. Not a care in the world that someone could have walked in, could have seen you two at it like a bunch of rabbits. No, she was just focused in making you cum. You felt so warm and soft around her cock. Your leg wrapped around her waist as she dug into you, filling you up to the brim.

She grunted into your ear and you sighed into hers. The moment was filled with nothing but pure need and perhaps even built up anger. Your hands clawed at her shirt, your mouth on hers as she fucked you into the wall, your panties still hanging on your ankle but they'd soon be in her pocket. Wanda bit your shoulder, suppressing a long groan and your walls clenched onto hers for the umpteenth time.

And then you came with a silent moan that was muffled by her lips, and then she followed suite, filling you up.

"So pretty angel." She whispered, pushing your hair to the side.

"Missed you so fucking much."

That night, you somehow found yourself tangled in her sheets like previous times. Even though Wanda refused to apologize, she masked it off by continuously pressing kisses to your lips while her fingers curled inside of you. She made you see stars, muffled groans escaping her lips once she was inside of you, praising you like you were hers. But you weren't anyways.

And of course, you'd unblocked her number afterwards.

_

_

"Why did you drag me out of the library?" You ask half heartedly even though you were getting tired of reading the same paragraph over and over again.

"Spring break is soon."

"Yes, I'm very aware."

"Are you going home to your parents?" She asked and you frowned.

"I don't plan to. They're barely home so maybe not."

"Well, I was thinking maybe you wanna come on a trip with me and  a few friends."

"And where are you guys going?"

"We have a cabin in the woods."

"Wow, a cabin in the woods with a bunch of teenagers. That sounds like fun! We'll roast smoars, tell scary stories and then maybe we'll leave the doors open so Michael Meyers can come get us? Sounds like a slasher movie waiting to happen!" You exclaim sarcastically and Wanda rolls her eyes.

"Why do you want me to come anyways."

"Thought it would be fun."

"No. I think you just want me there so you can get laid more."

"Maybe that too, but what can I say, I'm a sucker for your pussy." She mumbles and you sigh.

"That you are." You admit and she shrugs again.

"I'll think about it." She hums before pulling out two rolled blunts

"You can't be serious."

"What, thought you'd need it after busting your ass in the library." Wanda hands you one and you begrudgingly take it. She hums before flicking her lighter then handing it to you.

"You're lucky we're in a secluded place."

"Why, don't wanna be caught with me?"

"I've got a reputation to uphold Maximoff." She laughs at that after bowing the smoke out.

You do the same, taking a drag before exhaling. It's quiet for a while before Wanda turns to you.

"You're so pretty."

"Don't start with me Maximoff."

"What, can't I compliment you?" She asks with her signature smirk and you huff but the blush on your cheeks says otherwise. Wanda takes another drag then tilts your chin so she can press a kiss onto your lips.

The kiss is deep and slow as one hand finds it way on your neck. She hums, separating from the kiss to take another drag. You sighed, already feeling your body relaxing and succumbing to the effects of the weed. Another drag, another trick and somehow you find yourself situated in Wanda's lap.

"I like you like this." She murmurs, eyes focused on your glorious tits right in her face.

"You like me in every position."

"Yeah but now I have a closer look on your tits." She remarks and you roll your eyes.

"We gonna fuck or are you going to keep stating at em?"

"Both maybe?" She giggles and you huff while trying to get your panties off.

"No don't take em off."

"Why?"

"Just don't." She mumbles, her fingers sliding them to the side so that she could slide her fingers inside of you.

A small whine leaves your lips as she stretches your pussy, her head down between your tits, pressing wet kisses on your collarbone.

"No leaving marks." You warn again and this time she listens, partially because while you're too focused on riding her fingers, her teeth tug at the skin creating a new bruise to admire.

Your hips move against her two fingers, the metallic bands across her fingers adding to the stimulation.

"Yeah baby, ride my fingers." She commands and you do just that, head falling back in pure ecstasy. Soon enough, you were falling apart on her fingers and Wanda cooed as you fell apart.

"So pretty when you cum." She'd mutter while pushing her seat back.

Minutes later, the car felt hotter, beads of sweating dripping down both of your foreheads as you rode her cock. Your moans synchronized together as her hands held your waist, your own pulling at her shirt. You pulled her in for a kiss, her hands now situated on your tits, palming and tweaking the erect buds.

"You're so deep." You'd whine and she'd hum.

"You're so wet." She'd retaliate and then your lips were on hers like they'd never left, your hips still chasing that awaiting orgasm.

"Cum for me baby, make a mess all over me."

_

_

Being friends with benefits with Wanda Maximoff was like trying to hold fire in your hands. Especially with Wanda. You knew who she was—flirty, hot-and-cold, untouchable. You told yourself you could handle it. That it was just sex. That you wouldn’t get attached.

But then there were the little things—how she called you late at night just to hear your voice. How she’d brush hair from your face after sex, whispering “stay” when you tried to leave.

You fell. Slowly. Quietly. Hopelessly. And she let you. But you see, that's when the problem slowly began. And you should've been smart enough to see it coming.

-

You and Wanda had just left a party with mutual friends. You were sitting on the edge of her bed, dress pulled up slightly, makeup smudged, heart aching from the way she’d flirted relentlessly with some tall, artsy girl the whole night.

You’d bit your tongue. Again. But now, back in her room, your silence felt louder than ever. Wanda was laughing at something on her phone, unbothered, until she noticed the look on your face.

"What?” she asked, brows raised. You didn’t answer right away. You were scared if you spoke, your voice would shake.

“Why do you do that Wanda? You embarrassed me.” you finally said. She blinked.

“Excuse me? Did what exactly?”

“Act like I mean something when we’re alone, but forget I exist the second we’re around other people.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, the first crack of dismissal in her tone before she glanced at you, unimpressed.

“Don’t be dramatic.” Your jaw tightened.

“You were all over that girl, Wanda. She was practically in your lap. You couldn’t go ten minutes without touching her. And I was right there.” Wanda scoffed, tossing her rings on the dresser before standing up.

“So? You knew what this was.” You flinched.

“No. I want to know, give me an answer! I watched you practically drool over that girl tonight while I stood right there. And then you expect me to come back here like nothing happened.”

"I didn’t ask you to come,” she said, not even looking at you now.

“You followed me.” That broke something in you.

You stood up slowly, heart pounding. “Wow. So now I’m just some girl who follows you home?” Wanda sighed like she was tired of the conversation, and that made it worse. So much worse.

“I told you from the beginning, this wasn’t serious,” she said, finally looking at you, but her eyes were cold.

“You caught feelings. That’s not my fault.” She remarks with a scoff.

You stared at her, your hands shaking. “You kissed me like I was the only one. You held me like I meant something. You don’t get to act innocent now. Wanda said nothing. She just stood there, arms crossed, mouth tight.

“You don’t get to keep hiding behind that excuse. You treat me like I’m disposable. You only want me when it’s convenient for you.” She turned, arms folded.

“That’s exactly what this is. Convenient. You were never anything more.” The words hit you like a punch to the chest.

You swallowed, voice shaking.

“You don’t mean that.” She stepped closer, face cold.

“Yes, I do. You’re just easy, Y/N. You’re here when I want you, and when I don’t, you sulk like a kicked puppy. It's exhausting.” Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

“You’re being cruel.”

“I’m being honest,” she bit out.

“You were fine with this until your feelings got in the way. That’s not my fault. You caught feelings in a setup that was never about love. That’s on you.”

You shook your head, stepping back from her.

“No. It’s on you for leading me on. You kissed me like I mattered. You held me like I was more than just sex.”

She laughed bitterly.

“God, you really thought that meant something? It’s just sex, Y/N. You were never the only one. You just happened to be around the most.” That was it. That was the moment something inside you cracked.

Your voice dropped, barely above a whisper.

“I fell for you." Wanda flinched, but only for a second.

“That’s your problem. I never asked you to.” Silence. Your heart shattered into pieces. But even through the pain, clarity settled in.

You stared at her, a tear sliding down your cheek.

“I hope you remember this moment the next time you’re alone in this empty-ass bed. Because the one person who actually gave a damn about you? You just pushed her away.”

You grabbed your bag, hands trembling, and walked to the door. Wanda didn’t say a word. She didn’t stop you.

When you got home, your phone lit up:

Wanda: You really walked out over that?

Wanda: “You mad at me or something?”

Wanda: “You gonna sulk forever or what?”

You stared at the screen. The ache in your chest turned to resolve.

Without a second thought, you hit:

Block Contact

Again.

And then you put your phone down.

For once, you chose yourself. Because Wanda Maximoff was an ass.

_

_

You were true to your words. You didn't seek her out. She hurt you and you should've been more vigilant, you should've been smarter. But you were a fool in love.

"I'm sorry babe, I'll kick her ass if I have to." Gwen commented while Valkyrie smiled apologetically.

"You gonna say it or what?" You asked Val and she shook her head.

"As much as I want to say it, she's an ass for treating you that way."

"Yeah, I mean, once a hoe always a hoe. It just never changes." Gwen chipped in while she attempted to take the ice cream bowl away from you.

"Can't you just let me wallow in my sorrow for a while longer."

"No ways, come on. Up, we're not gonna let you sit and sulk for her. She's not wroth it." Val added and you sighed but you knew she was right.

As for Wanda. Well she still kept the unbothered facade up. At first? Wanda was fine. At least that’s what she told herself. For the first few nights? She drank. A lot. Told her friends she was better off.

“I needed space anyway.”

“She got clingy.”

“She took it too seriously.” She hooked up with someone two nights later. A redhead who looked nothing like you but kissed like she was trying to impress someone. It felt like ash in her mouth.

Empty. Hollow. No spark. The girl tried kissing her neck, and Wanda flinched.

Because that was yours. Wanda didn’t even remember her name the next morning. She tries flirting. Hooking up. Going out.

But it’s all mechanical.

The moans don’t move her.

The hands aren’t yours.

Every kiss is just a reminder of the one she can’t taste anymore.

She kept partying. Kept going out. Kept pretending she hadn’t just torched the only thing that made her life feel like it had real weight.

But then… it started creeping in. She reached for her phone one night, instinctively going to text you about a movie you’d both joked about.

Blocked.

Still.

She checked your page from a burner.

You’d posted a picture. Smiling. Glowing. Wearing that dress she once pulled up with her teeth.

There was a caption: “Unbothered. Blessed. Blocked.”

It wrecked her.

The guilt came in waves. She started seeing you in other people.

In the way someone laughed at a party.

In the scent of strawberry or cherries on a girl’s neck.

In the softness of someone’s skin who just… wasn’t you.

But nothing worked. They didn’t laugh like you. Didn’t cuss her out when she got too cocky. Didn’t touch her like they meant it. They didn’t love her.

And worse? She realized she wanted that now. From you.

Too fucking late.

Wanda tires to make it up to you but fails miserably.

She sent flowers. They got returned in pieces.  She tried to call from a friend’s phone. You hung up when you heard her voice. She sees your old hoodie in her closet. Sits down on the floor and just stares at it. She replays the fight. Hears her own voice, cruel and reckless, and feels sick.

She remembers the way you used to laugh into her collarbone. The way you’d fall asleep on her chest, hands tangled in her shirt.

You never asked for everything. You just wanted something real. And she threw it in your face.

Then she tried again in class. She tried sitting next to you, but Val slipped in that seat before sending her a nasty glare. After the class was over she tried approaching you but got stopped by the girl.

"She doesn't want to talk to you."

"What she can't speak for herself now?" Wanda said and Valkyrie just scoffed.

"You've hurt the girl multiple times, you've done and said enough don't you think?" And Gwen came out of nowhere, purposefully bumping her shoulder with Wanda's.

"You're a piece of shit. Maybe go find a piece of ass to go along with you." Wanda's jaw clenched.

"What happened between us is none of your business."

"Don't get in my face girlie or I'll just mop that smirk off of ya. We'll see who wants your raggedy ass when I'm done with you." Gwen was ready to fight, in retrospect she didn't like the Maximoff twins at all, especially what happened with her and Pietro in the past.

But Valkyrie pulled her away before things got too messy.

"Let's just go. Fighting with her is too easy." And they left the brunette girl standing there feeling useless, the weight of what she'd done really sinking in.

It’s been weeks since the fight.

The one where Wanda let her mouth run wild. Where her voice sliced you open like she didn’t know you had a heart—like she didn’t spend months holding it.

“I don’t owe you shit,” she had snapped.

“You were just another distraction. You made this messy, not me.”

“You thought this meant something? Grow up.” She watched you crumble and walk out—without tears, without begging.

She thought that was the end.

It wasn't. Because Wanda expected you'd come back. She always expected that. But days turned to weeks. You never reached out. Never looked back.

She’s tried everything to forget.

Girls. Booze. Loud music and louder nights.

She keeps waking up next to strangers and whispering your name in her sleep.

She remembers the time where she'd woken up to find some random girl changing.

“You should call whoever she is. She’s haunting you.” Wanda laughed.

Then cried in the shower an hour later.

Every night, she lies in bed staring at her ceiling. Every touch from someone else feels wrong. Every laugh feels hollow. You’re everywhere and nowhere.

She hears your voice in songs.

Smells you in dreams. And the worst part? She thought she was the player.

But in the end, you played her—because you took your heart back and meant it.

Wanda is shocked to say the least when she gets a message from your number.

Come over.

Her stomach swirls, she has no clue what this is about but she knows that this could be the perfect time to apologize, to make things right. To say the stuff that she's been keeping in for almost two months now.

She throws on the simplest outfit. None of that swagger stuff she'd wear, she doesn't even have the confidence to live up to it, because what was the point of said confidence if it wasn't for you? She walked to your dorm, head down, pockets in her hands, ready to face you.

She knocked on the door and you opened it before letting her in. Your roommate must have been gone or else Wanda wouldn't have been alive at that moment. You said nothing to her so she started.

"I-"

"Don't." You handed her a box.

"What's this?"

"It's all of your stuff that you left at my place." Wanda frowns, it settles in. She's really losing you.

"Y/n, baby please-"

"Don't baby me Wanda."

"Just listen to me, please."

"You said enough that night and other nights too. You don't have to say anything because it won't change shit. We were just casual."

"I didn't mean it."

"Of course, you never fucking mean it!" You exclaim with a laugh.

"Let me ask you something Wanda. Was it casual that times you held me after sex? When you whispered that you'd never let me go, when you stayed over? Or that time I held you when you had a panic attack. Two in the fucking morning and I did just that for you because I cared. You knew I cared and you still let me fall for you, let me believe that we were really still casual. "

Wanda let's a tear slip from her face.

"Or the times I took care of you when you were sick, or God forbid I could ever talk to anyone else because you claimed I was yours. Mine, mine, mine. The fucking bullshit you had me believe. The random checkups, the calls, the glances, the late night fleeting whispers, the possessiveness, the jealousy, was it all fucking causal? Or were you such an ass that you let me fall for you?"

Wanda doesn't say anything, she just looks down at the box in her hand.

"I'm sorry."

"You're always fucking sorry!" You're now inches away from her face. You can feel her breath on you, you can see the tear that's threatening to fall. You push her against the wall.

"You're always sorry." It just happens. Somehow her lips are on yours.

Somehow, she's got your thighs wrapped around her waist and somehow she's got you in your bed, moaning her name as she fucked you. As she curled her fingers inside of you, sucked your clit, trusted her hips inside of you, had your head falling back. Tried kissing you but you didn't want to. You didn't want to feel those soft lips of hers because maybe you'd just go crawling back to her like one of her randoms. And maybe in the end you were. Not maybe, you were. As you said nine months ago, Wanda just liked the chase.

But five hours later, with your shirt back on and Wanda fully dressed, you barely looked at her.

"You need to go. Take your box too." That's when Wanda registered that maybe this was it. Maybe not everything in the world was meant to be fixed.

Because at the end of the day, that's what you two were meant to be. Casual.

Was it ever casual?

_________________________________________

First post on Tumblr. I hope you liked it!

[uluru-xavren]

GET IN THE WATER

Rafayel x Reader

Summary: The moment he saw you, he knew he was doomed. He needed you to be his, even if it was against your will.

CW: God!Rafayel, manipulation, cohesion, obsessive Rafayel, yandere? I think

Words: 1,8k

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼

The gods are greedy. They know they can have anything they want no matter what they have to do to get it. He was especially spoiled in that sense.

The first time he saw you, he thought the same thing as when you see a seashell. Insignificant but charming.

He had gone to the surface to entertain himself after getting bored of being on his throne. I had simply wanted to see what life was like for those who lived on the surface, but his eyes fell on you, who was collecting seashells. Insignificant as all humans, innocently picking up something that belonged to the sea, and he was simply unable to take his eyes off you until you were done and gone.

Unlike the rest of humans, you had something that made his gaze always end up straying towards you sooner or later. He was fascinated by it and hated it in equal measure. How was a mere human able to enchant a god without doing anything at all? You had to have some kind of magical influence.

As time passed, fascination turned into obsession. He was unable to go a day without knowing about you, where you were, who you were with, what you were doing, etc. Inevitably, he ended up sending some of his subjects —Lemurians or animals— to warn him of any sightings of you.

The day they told him that you had been seen with someone near the beach —that you and that person had laughed, played in the sand and were almost about to kiss if it weren't for the Lemurian who saw you and made enough noise to get your attention— he destroyed most of the throne room by pure rage.

No one said anything as he abandoned his throne and went to the surface again, determined that it was time to intervene.

He was aware that the Lemurians could not reveal themselves to humans. He had imposed that law. However, when he saw you on the beach in the middle of the night, strolling along the shore and enjoying the breeze, he ignored how selfish he was and called your attention to come closer to some rocks that could hide him from the rest of the humans.

That's when you saw him for the first time.

A being from the oldest stories of mythology related to the sea. The nightmare of many sailors, who told countless stories about beings like him. Beings that people knew were a danger and that as soon as you saw him you should have run away.

But you didn't. You couldn't do it when you saw the elegance in his posture and the intelligence in his gaze. Before you was not a wild creature that many stories told, but a creature that looked at you with curiosity and with a familiarity that made you feel lost.

And his eyes… Maybe that was what made you unable to move. As soon as you saw his eyes, all chance of escape was gone.

When he had you in front of him, he forgot all the world around you. For him there was only you at that moment, his muse finally within his reach. He used all his charms to attract you, to make you see that he wasn't dangerous —to you—, to be able to reach out and finally touch you.

None of you spoke, but you didn't stop looking at each other. He let your hands intertwine with his and explore the texture of his tail. But he wouldn't let you touch his face even though he was dying to let you, because he knew that would only leave you wanting more. He knew human nature. They were greedy and so easy to tempt.

After that encounter, you started looking for him more. You went more to the beach and your gaze did not leave the sea. Every movement you noticed out of the corner of your eye was enough to make you alert, thinking it was him.

He noticed. He could see the desperation with which you looked for him. And he loved it.

He moved the waves in a specific way to make you believe that it was him swimming. He would make dolphins, sharks and even whales swim near the surface to make you think their tails were his. And every time he saw your disappointed expression, a wave of satisfaction would fill his chest and that would make him finally show himself to you. Like an owner rewarding his pet.

Everytime you two were alone together he had to use all his willpower not to take you to the depths of the sea. You were so cute, so obedient and attentive to him, to his movements when he conjured tricks with the water for you, when he moved to get a better look at you, so still when he caressed the skin of your face, your arms and your legs.

It was normal that he didn't want to let you go.

When he came to the surface one particular day, he saw you weren’t alone. Someone was holding your hand as you spoke animatedly, pointing at the water. His blood boiled at the thought of you bringing a stranger to see him. Boiled with the way that person held you so freely as if it was someone special to you. That couldn't be.

Thanks to your attempt to show your "friend" the existence of the creature you had met a few days ago, he didn't appear for a while. No matter how much you looked and called for him, he ignored you for several days until, overwhelmed by the thought that it had been a dream, your tears fell and mixed with the sea and he appeared before you, moved by your desperation.

“Foolish and selfish human.” He said with a mystical tone that instantly enchanted you, causing you to fall into a trance that didn't allow you to take your eyes off him. “Who are you to decide who can see me?”

He liked being able to have you like that, with all your attention on him and without you being able to think of rejecting him.

Gods were greedy, and he was the worst.

“Next time you want your friends to meet me, let me know. I'd love to meet them.” He smiled at you tenderly, caressing your face with the same delicacy and reverence as a lover.

Humans were naive. A simple smile and you believed him. How adorable and silly you were.

You didn't suspect anything when you took your partner with him. You were excited by the idea that someone else could see the beauty of a mystical being like him. That someone else confirmed that their existence was not just a hallucination of yours.

Then you heard music.

It was soothing and inviting, and you felt like you were drifting off to sleep the more you listened, but when you saw your partner, you saw with horror that something was wrong.

Your partner was drowning. They clutched their head with both hands in despair and began to shake from side to side. They didn't make a sound, just a silent expression of horror. Then they fell to the ground, motionless. Dead.

And Rafayel appeared. He looked at you with an intelligible expression. A look that was enough to make you realize he was the responsible of that.

“Why…?!” You felt your throat close, a mixture of fear and disbelief.

He didn't answer you right away. He just watched you silently, admiring every expression you made. The tears that gathered in your eyes, the tension in your shoulders, the fear. You looked so insignificant it was adorable.

As you leaned towards your partner's limp body, he frowned.

“Don’t.” He warned you. “Don’t get close to it.”

‘It’. You stood still and looked at him in disbelief at the contemptuous and inhuman way in which he had referred to your partner. Was this really the same mystical being you had met and who brought you gifts every time you saw each other? The one who looked at you with such warmth as if he had the sun in his eyes?

“Get in the water,” He said after a moment of silence in a dry, clean tone. An order that left no room for a negative response.

“What…?”

There was a change in the waves that made you look around. The tide was tossing restlessly and had taken on a dark color. He didn't seem affected by it, as if he were the one responsible.

“Get in the water.”

His eyes began to shine. The pink color that made you think of the sky at sunset was replaced by a cold, bright blue. The sea shook threateningly and the sky began to cloud over, as if it were a premonition of a tragedy. Unconsciously, you stepped back, ready to flee and seek refuge, but then Rafayel's voice penetrated your head, like an ancient, magical voice that was part of your consciousness.

“Get in the water,” he said for the third and last time, any trace of gentleness and care gone. His expression was so cold that for a second it seemed like you were dealing with someone else. “Do it. Or I'll call a tsunami so you have nowhere to go.”

“Rafayel, why— why are you—?”

Thunder fiercely interrupted the conversation. You couldn't ask anything else, not when Rafayel seemed to want to drag you into the depths himself.

“Do I have to make you do it?” he asked, his voice echoing in your head.

You shook your head. Fear had you trembling, but you felt unable to disobey him. Little by little, your feet dragged themselves into the water, and with each step, Rafayel's expression softened more and more.

When the water reached your waist, he reached his hand to you.

“Come, my love,” he said softly, and you felt a shiver run down your spine at his words and the coldness of his hand.

He pulled you towards him, wrapping you in his arms and taking you with him to the bottom of the sea.

And as the air drained from your lungs, Rafayel's voice remained in your head.

“My dear, my love,” he said it so gently and lovingly as if he wasn't drowning you. “After so long, you're finally with me. Mine, all mine. Now we'll always be together.”

And after nights of dreaming about it, he finally kissed you.

That night you were reported missing, as was the death of your partner, who was found on the beach. People made many assumptions, the most popular being that you were the culprit and that you had fled. Therefore, the police opened an investigation in which they started looking for you as the main suspect.

But it didn't matter, because you would never come back.

Lemuria welcomed you with open arms, knowing that with you chained to the throne, their god would never be alone again. You just needed to love him and pay attention to him. After all, you had no other choice.

[fireinmoonshot]

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader (Twisters) Summary: You're a new addition to the Storm Par team and Tyler finds himself fascinated with you from the very beginning.

It’s been a long and stressful day, so you assume that the group of tornado wranglers hanging about the large red truck by the stairs are feeling the same way as you – exhausted – and will let you head upstairs to get some much needed rest.

You are, however, incredibly wrong. 

“Hey, you’re the one with the Storm Par team, aren’t you?”

You force yourself to a stop on the first landing and turn to the group, all of their eyes staring up at you, and nod. “And you are the ones that make videos on Youtube.”

Boone, one of the only ones who’s names you’d gotten earlier today, laughs. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, but I’m taking it as a win since you know who we are, as well as the other million people who subscribe to us.”

It’s hard not to smile at least a little at his cockiness. If you had a million subscribers on Youtube, you’d probably also have let it go to your head a little. 

You try and excuse yourself from the conversation then, assuming it’s over, and take a step towards the stairs, but yet again – you’re wrong. This time, it’s the tall, gorgeous blond man that speaks. Tyler Owens.

“I don’t think she’s subscribed to us, Boone.”

You can’t help it. You bite. “What makes you say that, Owens?”

He grins up at you from his spot on the back of the truck. “Am I wrong?” 

“That’s not an answer.”

The others in the group laugh and whoop, obviously enjoying the back and forward between the two of you. You assume that it’s rare for Tyler Owens to get that from anyone, let alone a fellow storm chaser that he’s never met before in his life. 

Tyler looks at you for a few moments without saying anything and you take that as your cue to leave, stifling a yawn as you turn away and head up the staircase. You can hear the others chattering back at the truck as you reach the top of the staircase and move to find your room, desperate for a warm shower and a comfortable bed. 

You’re so stuck in your own thoughts that you don’t hear someone bounding up the stairs behind you. 

“Hey, Storm Par,” Tyler Owens’ voice surprises you.

You look up from the key in your hand, having been checking your room number, and meet his eyes. “Were you that desperate for an answer on whether I’m subscribed to your Youtube channel that you had to follow me up here?”

Tyler chuckles to himself. “No, surprisingly not. Just figured I’d come and ask you how you’re doing and didn’t think you’d want an audience for that question.”

You’re a little surprised by his kind nature. Judging by what you’d seen of him so far, he was more of an act first, think later kind of person. And maybe he still was since he’d run after you so fast. 

“How I’m doing? I met you twelve hours ago.”

He flashes a grin. “I can’t ask someone I met twelve hours ago how they are?”

“Well…” You hesitate, a little lost for words. “I’m fine, just tired. I haven’t done this storm chasing thing in a couple of years and it’s going to take a bit of getting used to, especially working with a team like Storm Par.”

You don’t owe Tyler an explanation about everything, not about why you haven’t done it in years, nor why you’re a bit apprehensive about the Storm Par team. But you figure, since he’d been so kind to follow you up here to check in on you, a small explanation is the least you can offer him in return for his kindness.

Tyler nods. “Listen, I know my team can be a little much sometimes – in a good way, don’t get me wrong – but if you’re ever after a bit more fun than the suits and PhD’s of Storm Par, I’m sure we can squeeze you in.”

You snort. “They do not wear suits while storm chasing.”

“How do you know? You’ve only been here for twelve hours, Storm Par.”

Tyler smirks as you narrow your eyes at him. “Not my name, Owens.”

“Go and get some rest, you’ll need it for tomorrow.” He can see that you’re exhausted, and even though you’re happily playing along with him, he’s not the type to push it too far. Especially when it comes to you, apparently. “I’ll make sure no one disturbs you.”

“You gonna set up camp outside my room?”

“No, not for someone I’ve only known for twelve hours. But I will guard the stairs incase Javi or Scott come looking for you,” he smiles, amusement in his every word. “Go on.”

You listen to him, eyeing him carefully one last time before turning and heading towards your room, which you think is at the end of the corridor. Just as you’re putting your key in the lock, you hear him yell out behind you.

“If you can’t sleep, you can always look up Tornado Wranglers on Youtube!” 

[kqutie]

EPIC : THE FAIR MAIDEN (not so platonic ver.)

CHAPTER FOUR : THE WASHED-UP STRANGER

relations. : platonic various epic characters/reader -- platonic odysseus/reader ; polites/reader ; platonic eurylochus/reader ; platonic elpenor/reader ; platonic perimedes/reader ; platonic odysseus' crew/reader ; hermes/reader ; poseidon/reader

chpt. sum. : The crew get acquainted with your villagers while you discover a stranger washed up on your sandy beaches. You know exactly what to do... poke, poke, poke!

tags. : reader continues being a disney princess ; female, mute reader ; pure comfort ; animal crossing new horizons game mechanics ; the villagers are here! ; the crew are simps ; poseidon makes an appearance ; poseidon is kinda slimey... ; hermes to the rescue, kinda? ; hermes is still a flirty menace ; protective crew ; very protective odysseus ; poseidon tried to shoot his shot and failed ; isekai and transmigration ; fix it fic ; characters know their future ; happy ending for everyone!

length. : 6.8k

navi. | series m.list

← prev | three : the new island

Marshal hops over, along with Filbert and Poppy, all three squirrels snuggling up to your form in an effort to express how much they missed you. Their affectionate words swirl into a cacophony of voices you hear directly in your mind. Were they communicating with you telepathically? 

“How did you all get here?” you ask without a voice, simply keeping the question in your head and experimenting with the communication. 

“We’ve always been here, silly. It’s our island home, after all,” Shino adds, coming up to your sitting form and nuzzling her nose into your hair. She looked majestic with her white fur, pink nose and red horns, you can still see the reddish colour brushing the edges of her eyes, highlighting her amber gaze. 

“But it’s strange,” Mitzi comments, licking at her paws adorably, “something feels different, somehow, especially after that flying man urged us into the storage shed. Is this really our same island?”

Hermes... you think, supposing they’ve been sent here through him. It makes you wonder if he’s also the reason you arrived. No, that can’t be. He didn’t know of you when you first met, so how could he possibly be responsible for bringing you into this world? Perhaps the appearance of your villagers was a part of his blessing. 

“All that matters is that we’re finally together again,” Filbert cuts in, snuggling further into you as the others join with hums of agreement. It makes you smile to see such familiar, sweet faces. You miss their adorable character designs, but it was fascinating to see them as normal animals, though they didn’t quite look the part. Their atypical colouring remained, so they look more like fantasy creatures to you. Perhaps that was fitting; you’ve grown quite the reputation amongst the crew so your villagers’ unusual appearance may lend to them believing that they are your close friends. 

“Cha-chomp! We missed you,” Fang snaps his jaws in an almost intimidating display, but you know he’s a sweetheart. Rather than shrink back in fear of his very sharp teeth, you smile and reach up to lovingly scratch at his ear. In his true form, Fang was a menacing size, but his beautiful grey coat looked so fluffy — you couldn’t help cooing at him and the way his ears flicked in delight from your scratches.

“It’s a relief to find you again,” Gaston comments, hopping up to your legs, where he brings a small furry hand up to pat your knee. He’s sweet for saying that but the obvious mustache the yellow rabbit retained was hilarious to you. He’s accompanied by Chrissy, however, who no longer adorns her pink and white polka dot head garment and leggings, leaving her looking like an ordinary white bunny. It was quite unusual, but you suppose they all look unusual without their clothing. 

“Don’t laugh! We thought we lost you!” Chrissy, huffs crossing her arms. 

“I’m sorry Chrissy, I missed you too,” Chrissy, ever the kind-hearted bunny, immediately unfolds her arms and smiles happily at you. You’ve already been forgiven; she’s never one to hold a grudge. 

“If you’re all here, does that mean—” You’re cut off by a hoot, and you look up to smile widely at a familiar-looking pair of owls perched along a tree branch. The owl siblings are accompanied by a pigeon whose feathers make it look as though he has a moustache and is wearing a suit. “Blathers! Celeste! Brewster!” The bushes shake below and out pops Tom Nook, accompanied by Timmy, Tommy, the Able sisters, and Isabelle. Timmy and Tommy looked adorably miniature, standing next to Tom, who stood high and greeted you with a friendly wave. Isabelle also waved at you, her tail contentedly swishing from side to side. “I can’t believe you’re all here,” 

“We’d follow you anywhere,” Isabelle comments, and you smile at each other. 

“So good to see you, my dear,” Blathers greets with an accompanying hoo. 

“Yes yes,” Tom Nook agrees but scratches at his head almost nervously, “but what’s happened to the island?”

Giving him an apologetic look, you try your best to explain, “I’m sorry Tom, I know it looks quite different, but I assure you that everything’s okay. It’s well taken care of, we actually have an amazing amount of visitors settled here currently.”

“Oh?” Tom and Isabelle share a proud look. “That’s brilliant! Business is booming!” You giggle at his words and nod along, happy to have settled him down. 

“Have you seen the stars? They’re so beautiful tonight!” Celeste comments and you look up in anticipation for any shooting stars but there are none. There was an unusually still, opaque cloud hovering above you, however. Peculiar…

“I suppose they do look extra bright tonight.” Looking around, you smile at the sight of everyone and slowly stand with your squirrel friends still tucked up in your arms. “How about we have a sleepover at my place?” you suggest, earning a cheer from everyone. 

“Hoo-Hoo! That would be lovely!” Blathers comments, a dreading look overcoming him for a moment, “I do so hate the outdoors but can’t find my museum anywhere!” 

“Mi casa es tu casa,” you invite them all inside as Marshal shivers in excitement before pulling a smug look. 

“I see you’ve picked up some of my speech habits. Of course you would. I’m quite the influencer. And you’re too kind, Sulky, thank you.” Marshal instantly recognised the phrase you used and wiggled in happiness from his positive impact. 

⊹ ࣪﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

The next morning, you make your way to the crew with breakfast already prepared and stored from your home kitchen. All animals trail along behind you, eager to meet the new friends you told them of the night before and this morning: all 600 men of Odysseus’ fleet. It might be overwhelming for them at first, but you know that their sweet disposition will make them fast friends with the crew. Hopefully, the men wouldn’t be too put off by your villagers’ odd colours. The only normal-looking villagers you have are Fauna, Chrissy, Fang and the Nook family. 

“Fair Maiden!” came a shout, and you turn to gasp at the image of Odysseus aiming his bow and arrow at Fang (a large, grey wolf) while Eurylochus points his large sword at Boots (your gym-bro alligator). Rushing forward, you open your arms out in defence, shielding your harmless villagers from harm. If you could shout in protest, you would, but all you could manage is a frightful look that immediately makes the two lower their guard ever so slightly. 

“Wh-wha—?” Odysseus voices, unable to comprehend what’s happening, but Polites rushes to your side, opening his arms beside you. He knows exactly what you’re trying to convey.

“Captain! The Fair Maiden doesn’t want these animals harmed!” Polites’ voice is loud and firm, an immediate assurance to you that he was on your side, no questions asked, “Please lower your weapons!”

“But—!” Eurylochus tries to protest, knowing the potential danger that you could be in. Seeing the conflict in the sword-wielding man’s eyes, you shake your head insistently and gesture to your villagers and yourself before pointing between you and Polites. Everyone then watches as you end your non-verbal statement by tucking yourself into Polites’ chest, who wordlessly wraps his arms around you, his resolve solidified. It’s easy to understand what you want to express. 

“See? She’s trying to say that these animals are her friends. Please do not harm them.” Polites voices for you, bringing a smile to your face. You kiss his jaw and hug him tightly to show your gratitude. Polites’ cheeks bloom with a radiant blush but he doesn’t draw attention to it, not even when Odysseus and Eurylochus give him a teasing smirk. The two finally lower their weapons and apologise with a bow of their heads. 

“We apologise sincerely for over-reacting and causing you distress, Fair Maiden. We won’t bring harm to your animal friends, I assure you,” Odysseus looks at you, his eyes flooded with resolve to keep his word. 

“A-are you sure they’re friendly? They don’t seem it at all,” Poppy squeaks and hops over to your leg, hugging your ankle in her short height as her sweet face presses into the folds of your skirt. She’s joined by Filbert, who hugs your opposite ankle with a tearful whimper on his lips.

“S-so scary...”

“How unusual,” Odysseus observes, taking in Poppy and Filbert’s unusually coloured fur. He quickly moves on to observe the strange appearance of the other animals that have followed you as well. Some looked normal, some looked magical, and then there was a yellow bunny who looked like he had a very thick moustache, and Odysseus had to stifle his laughter.

“They are not like any other creatures I’ve seen before…” Eurylochus adds as the rest of the crew strain their necks to get a look, all of them humming in agreement as soon as they realise how different the animals appear. They coo over your squirrel villagers, Chrissy, Mitzi and Fauna, for their sweet appearance. They gasp in wonder at Shino’s divine being. They shudder at Fang and Boots’ intimidating presence. And many had to stifle their laughter when seeing Gaston’s prominent moustache as well. 

“No wonder you protect and care for them,” Polites comments, looking down at you with a kind smile. “Are they also as otherworldly as you?” his words make you look away bashfully, earning a laugh from the headband-wearing third commander. At least he managed to get you back for flustering him only moments earlier. That soft kiss isn’t escaping his mind any time soon. 

“We’ll make sure your animal friends don’t come to any harm,” Eurylochus assures, setting out to warn the back of the crew himself after you introduce him and the first few rows of the Odysseus’ men to your villagers and the other occupants of the island: Blathers and Celeste snoozing away in a nearby tree while Brewster keeps a close eye on them; the able sister nestled together adorably in the bushes; Tom Nook travelling together with Timmy and Tommy, who’ve climbed onto his back. To surmise, all animals that aren’t fish or bugs are under your protection.

After that frightful first impression, you’re happy to find the crew getting along with your villagers and vice versa. Your animal friends are truly so friendly; it’s in their nature to be kind, so it took no time at all for them to find new friends in the crew. It was a fun sight to see. The villagers still tended to gravitate towards you, however. And it took a while for the crew to get used to seeing such animals keeping you company, usually finding them trailing close behind you, the squirrels often hopping about your feet as you walked by. 

At times, it was heartwarming to see you interact with the cute animals. A beautiful lady, smiling, cooing and petting the sweet furry creatures was an image that had soul-healing properties. It made you feel all the more magical to them, floating about the island with a sweet deer following after you with adorable squirrels and bunnies close behind. However, it was more than unnerving to witness you being accompanied by a large grey wolf, a snapping alligator and an albino deer with pointed, red horns, an uncustomary appearance for such a graceful species. This was an initial fear you treated by showcasing how friendly and sweet Fang, Boots and Shino actually were. 

Waving Perimedes over, you smile brightly as he brings Elpenor with him. The two were truly inseparable.”Y-yes, Fair Maiden?” Perimedes asks nervously, eyeing Fang and Boots, who flanked your sides and quite politely so. Though that didn’t matter to Perimedes or Elpenor; all they saw were teeth, teeth and more teeth!   

“That one looks like he goes to the gym!” Boots praises Elpenor as he happily gazes at the man’s broad frame. Unfortunately, Elpenor wasn’t aware that the alligator’s interested gaze was one of admiration and not of hunger, and he tenses up in fear.

“You want us to make friends with them?” Fang asks, holding back his excitement as his tail begins to swish behind him in happiness. “Cha-chomp!” Fang snaps his jaws gleefully, unaware of his effect on the fearful, slightly shaking Perimedes, “Any friend of yours is a friend of ours!” 

Taking Perimedes’ hand with the utmost care, you slowly bring his sweaty palm and shaking fingers to Fang’s soft fur. Fang’s delighted response is instantaneous. The large wolf leans into Perimedes’ touch and urges him to continue petting and scratching his ear with a tilt of his head. 

“Oh...” Perimedes releases the breath he was holding and laughs in relief, eagerly scratching at Fang’s ear. The smile that grows on the blonde’s face is contagious.  

“That’s a good scratch. Mmm~ A little to the left please...” Fang snaps his jaws happily, leaning further into Perimedes’ hand, who quickly grows accustomed to Fang’s habit of chomping his jaws to express his happiness. 

“Good boy,” Perimedes whispers, his gaze softening with fondness. He’s made a new friend.

One down, one to go. You look at Elpenor, who seems to be having a staring contest with Boots. Behind him, Boots’ tail swishes from side to side, and you smile at his eagerness to make a new friend, too. Gently, you also take Elpenor’s hand and softly coax him into petting Boot’s head. The look you give Elpenor says everything he needs to know to follow your lead with confidence and trust in your actions. ’Everything will be okay,’ your eyes say to him. 

“I-If you think it’s safe, Fair Maiden...” Elpenor nods and allows himself to be guided into petting Boots, who eagerly leans into his touch. 

“His hands are calloused and strong!” Boots observes with a toothy smile, “That is evidence of his prowess in the gym! I think we’ll make good friends!”  

“It seems everyone has a favourite!” Odysseus laughs, walking up to you as he’s accompanied by both Fauna and Shino. He looks at them fondly, “Curious how an archer has become good friends with deers of all creatures.” Fauna nudges his hand with her nose, urging him to pet her as Shino playfully butts her horns against his forearm. Odysseus complies by rubbing at the base of her horns and succumbing to Fauna’s gently prompt for pets, “It seems I’ve found their weak spot.” You smile at the easy expression that takes over Odysseus’ countenance. In the days that pass, you find that the crew have grown an eagerness for petting your villagers, who make no complaints; they love the attention and the company of new friends. The crew smile more easily and laugh much lighter than ever before. You liken it to the effect therapy animals have on veterans. 

The hardened men can often be found taking care of and spending time with your villagers in various ways. It’s also clear that many have their personal favourites, as the captain had helpfully observed for you. 

Odysseus is often followed around by Fauna and Shino. Fauna, your sweet and graceful deer with her gentle disposition, reminds him of the elegance his wife, Penelope, often holds herself with. Shino, however, makes him think of his son; she’s more playful and adventurous compared to Fauna, much like his boy, Telemachus. Their presence is familiar, but also not. Nevertheless, they gave Odysseus some much-needed comfort and vice versa. Fauna and Shino adore being treated with such care and especially love the stories he tells them absentmindedly, his guard lowered by their presence. 

Eurylochus, you’re surprised to see, has become good friends with your trio of squirrel villagers. All three have expressed to you how much they enjoy resting on his shoulders and even his head as he walks around. His height makes them feel tall and powerful! Marshal likens it to being perched on a walking tree. Poppy simply loves curling up in his large hand. She tells you it makes for the perfect bed to rest comfortably in. It also helps that Eurylochus often feeds them a share of his fruit rations. Filbert loves it especially; he’s a great lover of food. The tall, intimidating second commander can be seen resting against a tree as the three squirrels play about his gently smiling form. He looks at peace, fondly watching as they play around and on him — he’s become their personal playground. 

“You feed them too much, friend,” Polites laughs while passing by with Mitzi in his arms. “I’m afraid that blue one will become too chubby.” It seems everyone’s picked up on Filbert’s food-loving tendencies. 

“But don’t you think they look especially cute with their chubby cheeks chewing away at the fruit? It feels even more satisfying when I feed them by hand,” Eurylochus points out, and the two admire the way the three small squirrels eagerly stuff their faces with slices of apples Eurylochus hands them, making their cheeks puff up adorably.

“I suppose you’re right.” Polites grins and sits beside Eurylochus with Mitzi in his lap. 

“I see you’re a cat person,” Eurylochus smirks at his friend.

“I’ve always been a cat person,” the two share a laugh. 

Mitzi and Polites have a very calming friendship. The two often fall asleep together wherever they may be. It all starts when Mitzi sits herself in Polites’ lap, and the kind third commander can’t help but coo and pet her adoringly. When enough time passes, Mitzi can be found gently purring in his lap as Polites lightly snores over her, the two of them finding the best rest in each other’s company. 

Elpenor has grown a bond with Boots, thanks to your introductions. Boots had even helped him prank other crew members by patiently lurking in the bath waters and jumping out with a snap of his powerful jaws when a group of crew members came in to take their baths. Elpenor was chased around by those few traumatised men, but he found the prank worth the trouble. He laughed the entire time he was chased about. Perimedes was commonly seen with Fang, the two having immediately bonded thanks to you. They enjoyed each other’s company no matter what they may be doing together, whether it’s fishing, sitting around, sleeping under the sun or eating, they’ve become the best of friends. Together, the four of them have become quite the fearsome quartet.    

⊹ ࣪﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

“Look! What’s that?!” a crew member shouts, and you look to see them pointing up at something in the sky. “It’s a bird!”

“No, it’s a floating red thing carrying a white box!” The helpful description provided by Lycaon makes you pull out your slingshot and take aim. You fire at the balloon three times, but it’s no use, and you watch as the balloon floats further away. With a huff, you shake your head miserably. Why were shooting balloons always so difficult for you? It’s even more difficult now that you’re having to shoot it down in real life. Before the balloon could get too far away, however, an arrow helpfully shoots it down for you. The shooter was Odysseus, who slings his bow over his head and wears it while bringing the gift box over to you. Smiling gratefully, you open the gift before handing him its contents.

“For me?” Odysseus asks, surprised, as he points to himself. You nod, and rather than urge the gift into his hands, you place the purple hyacinth crown onto his head instead. It matches his purple toga. Odysseus laughs and affectionately pats your head as Fauna and Shino prance about around you in celebration. “Thank you.” He silently vows take special care of your gift. He hopes it never wilts.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

You’ve already made the dresses and more for Penelope and Ctimene following Odysseus and Eurylochus’ request, and now you were collecting pretty shells for a little something extra. It would be nice for Odysseus and Eurylochus to craft something personally for their wives too, something pretty to gift them when they arrive home again. It’s not an official recipe you know from ACNH, but it’s a simple craft. An unfussy but heartfelt accessory showcasing the pretty seashell collected from your island’s shores, lovingly prepared for their beautiful wives to wear. How romantic would that be?~ You want to help Ody and Eury be good husbands,so today, you’re trying to find the prettiest seashells for them to craft into necklaces or bracelets. 

“My Fair Maiden,” Polites calls, approaching you on the beach with a kind smile, the ends of his headband swimming in the sea breeze. “What are you up to out here?” he looks at the small collection of sea shells you’ve managed to collect so far, your hands carefully cradling the precious beach decorations. “Those are very beautiful.” he admires your selection, leaning forward ever so slightly as he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. When he straightens again, Polites softens his voice as he looks at you with a fond stare. “May I join you? I’ll help as best as I can.” Unable to say no, you nod your head instantly. It would be nice to have company, anyway, and Polites was always good company. For a while, you two collect sea shells together with only the waves. There were a lot of shells available, but you were very selective about which ones you kept. Playing ACNH on your switch made the seashells look identical to one another, but now that you were looking at them personally and not in a game, each one was distinct and unique in its own way. Yes, there were similarly shaped ones, but looking closely, they were all very different. It was fascinating, and the adoration was visible on your face. 

That admiring visage of you as you stare down at the shells was something that Polites couldn’t help but admire. You’re too precious. How could he not feel for you? He loves it, especially when you find a particularly beautiful shell and run to share your discovery with him. You’re the good in the world that makes life worthwhile. Once again, the two of you split up to look for more shells separately. Polites looks into the distance when a glimmer catches his eye and moves to collect the shimmering glass bottle buried in the sand. There was a trinket inside that looked like something you would know what to do with better than him, so he kept the bottle closed and immediately returned to you. 

“I don’t have a shell but...” Polites offers the glass bottle sheepishly, not knowing what to expect from your reaction. With a silent gasp, you store away your collected, approved shells and clap in glee, happily receiving the bottle from Polites before hugging him as thanks. Polites laughs and hugs you back, his strong arms wrapping around you tightly as he buries his nose into your hair, where he affectionately presses a kiss into your crown. With you around, the harrowing memories and scars he acquired in the war are pushed far behind him. You bring a rare and precious peaceful quietness. And Polites can confidently say you have the same effect for Odysseus, Eurylochus and the crew too. You’re truly a blessing.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Poseidon has felt a strange disturbance in his ocean for quite some time now. It wasn’t threatening nor dangerous, so he didn’t initially feel the need to investigate. However, the disruption to his waters has remained such a prominent irritation to the point that he could no longer resist ignoring it. He sets off to investigate the peculiarity in the early morning, hoping to finish his search as soon as possible. 

When he approaches, Poseidon raises a brow. He doesn’t remember such a large island being located in this part of his ocean. It’s not even one he recognises; he’s never seen such greenery or landscapes. Suddenly, there’s movement behind the trees lining the perimeter of the island, beyond the shady beaches, and the sea god ducks into the ocean. Perhaps glimpsing a creature that occupies the island will give him some idea of its mysterious origins. 

Stepping out of the tree line, you move to the sands to continue your sea shell search for Odysseus and Eurylochus just before you meet the crew for breakfast, blissfully unaware of the fascinated stare pinning you down from the God of the sea. As Poseidon stays hidden amongst the waves, he smirks to himself, his eyes tracing your delicious curves, sweetly dressed in the loveliest dress he’s ever seen. He appreciates your silhouette thoroughly until his gaze finally lands on your beautiful face. What a beauty you are. Such a fine treasure he’s found within his ocean. He should have investigated the mysterious island sooner. You appear so sweet and kind too, delicately picking up different seashells, appearing very selective of which ones you should keep for your precious hoard. 

The new island no longer annoys him for disrupting his oceans; rather, Poseidon has found something else to be intrigued by. And he’s determined to make you his. 

You don’t know how much time you spend picking seashells, but when you look up, all thoughts of your mounting sea shell collection are forgotten. On the shore was a washed-up man in nothing but a simple cloth wrapped around his waist. His brown hair is long and wet from the salty ocean water, his skin a healthy sun-kissed colour, and his muscles prominently sculpted. From what little glimpses you see of his face hidden behind the strands of hair that fall over his features, you can tell that he’s handsome with a light shadow of stubble shaping his jaw. As you approach him, unaware of his intentions and very conscious state, Poseidon wills his features to stay undisturbed. A fair maiden such as yourself will surely wake him gently and with a sweet voice; when he pretends to finally rouse from sleep, he’ll work his charms to lure you into a passionate night together. He will enjoy you thoroughly and savour your sweet sounds, for an angel like you is capable of creating nothing but dulcet tones. 

Poseidon has gravely misjudged you, however. As soon as you were kneeling beside him, rather than gently seduce him out of his slumber and kindly ask about his wellbeing in the soft voice he imagined you to have, you begin to incessantly poking at his cheek instead. It was completely unexpected, and he couldn’t help the annoying twitch of his brow. The subtle action makes you temporarily stop your ceaseless prodding. But before Poseidon could breathe in respite, you start poking him again, this time, with much more force and speed. If he wasn’t a god, he’s sure you’d have made the skin of his cheek bruise already. Is this really how you go about waking an injured man?! It’s not at all what Poseidon expected, ignorant to your experience with washed-up seagull pirates. The only way you knew to wake Gulliver (the seagull pirate) or Gullivarrr (the seagull pirate captain) was to constantly pester them, which obviously meant poking their unconscious forms until they wake up. 

“I’m awake! I’m awake!” Poseidon sits up with an irritated grumble, swatting at your hand and squinting his eyes at you. He’s sorely misjudged you. Perhaps he should leave?

(Distantly, a giggle can be heard, and your ears perk up ever so slightly.)

However, Poseidon is struck once again by your beauty. Up close, you’re stunning, especially when you’re smiling so kindly at him and him alone. Because of your bewitching image, Poseidon was willing to forget about your rude, unending poking. 

“What a beauty you are...” the handsome stranger’s brown eyes examine your face, slowly tracing your features with his eyes as he slowly brings a hand up to cup your cheek. His touch was so unexpected that you startle ever so slightly. The stranger appears to take pleasure in your surprise however, chuckling to himself as his hand leaves your cheek to pick up your hand and bring your knuckles to his lips, “Tell me,” his lips don’t leave your skin as he looks up to meet your eyes with an impassioned stare, “what is your name, my lady?”

Smiling apologetically, you shake your head and point to your throat. “Oh? You cannot speak?”Poseidon frowns as you confirm his supposition with a nod. He was so looking forward to hearing your voice and relishing in the beautiful melody you would sing for him under his touch.

“No matter.” Poseidon eventually accepts the fact and leans forward, inching his face close to yours as you lean back slightly. “I remain grateful to you for saving my life.” the stranger’s eyes briefly glances down at your prettily shaped lips, “Allow me to convey my gratitude,” your eyes widen as the bold stranger closes the gap between you, managing to brush his lips against your own before you’re swept up by a pair of strong arms that fly you into the air. Gasping silently, you wrap your arms over your captor’s shoulders and push your face into his neck, fearful of the height he’s flown you to. 

“I should have known you were nothing but trouble~” A familiar voice teases as a pair of lips press a kiss against your temple. Hermes! Pulling away, you gape at the Messenger god who smugly grins at you. His arms carry you like a princess, ensuring that your dress doesn’t fall and reveal more of yourself to the men below. “Not only have you entrapped me, but you’ve captured the attention of my Uncle as well.” his words make your brows fly up in surprise before you hurriedly look down and gasp once more at the scene happening below. His uncle?! Did he mean...? 

Odysseus is pissed. You had taken longer than usual to meet everyone for breakfast, and they had grown anxious about your whereabouts. Initially, your safety wasn’t much of a concern as they knew your island to be incredibly safe; however, those foolish thoughts were immediately swept away as soon as they found you at the beach with a stranger, who was getting far too close for comfort. 

“Allow me to convey my gratitude.” At those exact words, Odysseus had fired his arrow, narrowly missing the strange man’s feet. It was a warning shot. Odysseus wasn’t one to miss his target, especially not one that is so unsuspecting and easy, but he would endanger you if he aimed straight at the man — you were far too close to him, and Odysseus didn’t want to risk you getting injured too. 

“Captain!” Polites points him towards your form up in the air and in the arms of another familiar god, “The Fair Maiden is safe,” his third commander hands him another arrow, “You’re free to take a second shot.” Polites’ voice grows chilly, deprived of his characteristically warm friendliness. He generally wasn’t the type to encourage such mercilessness, rather, he would have encouraged everyone to hear out the stranger. But Odysseus won’t complain; he knows the level of affection Polites and the rest of his crew had fostered for you — of course, this level of protectiveness was to be expected. 

“Aim for his throat,” Eurylochus strategised, his tone stern and calculating as he readies his sword, “While he chokes on his blood, I’ll move in to severe his head clean off his shoulders.” Odysseus didn’t appreciate being ordered around most of the time, but he didn’t mind it for right now. At least you were safe for the moment. He’ll deal with Hermes later. 

“Wait! Wait!” Odysseus freezes in place, along with everyone else who recognises the plea from the musical quite some time ago but still remember it so vividly. The same musical that had revealed their potential future had made it easy to recognise such a voice. It couldn’t be…

The stranger’s very human features slowly melt away to reveal the God of the sea. The man’s brown hair becomes an opaque black as the skin of his neck grows gills and his ears become fin-shaped. The cloth around his waist falls away to reveal the beginnings of a fishtail. Looking down, his tail can be seen seamlessly merging with the ocean waves lapping at the sandy beach, which pulls him into the ocean and stands him tall, held up by the sea below. 

“Poseidon...” Eurylochus acknowledges as everyone takes on a battle stance behind him, their faces weary but determined. 

“You made an oath not to interfere with my journey home!” Odysseus snaps at the sea god. His words making Poseidon grit his teeth in annoyance. 

“I know...”

“Why aren’t you keeping it?”

“I am keeping it! You have had easy oceans so far, and when you set out to sea again for the rest of your journey home, they will be safe also. The girl is different; she has no association with you—” The look Odysseus sends him makes the god stammer ever so slightly. You are associated with Odysseus. What a mistake this was.

“If you touch her, you will be interfering with our journey home. She is our Fair Maiden and has been a wondrous blessing on our voyage so far! Touch her, and you’ll be breaking your oath!”

Poseidon looks up to see you in the arms of his nephew, whose usually smiling countenance disappears as soon as they meet eyes. You are a precious being not only to the man who tormented him in a potential future but are also held dearly by his nephew. This doesn’t spell well. You appeared to be such an innocent lady; how did things turn out to be like this?  

“She’s off limits, uncle.” Hermes states firmly, his arms tightening their hold on you, “And she has my blessing. I’m sure you know what that means...” Even Hermes’ words make Odysseus and the crew’s eyes widen in shock. Just as surprised as Poseidon. When did Hermes bless you? Had you been associated with the Messenger god this whole time?

“Fine!” Poseidon concedes, his reluctant acceptance punctuated by the momentary violent action of the ocean waves below, “I will leave you be.” As he disappears into the sea, Poseidon gives you one last, longing glance. Yet again, he was at a loss. How disappointing…

As soon as Poseidon vanishes into the ocean’s depths, you look to Hermes with a smile, a small thank you for his help. “You’re very welcome, darling~” he coos but appears reluctant to let you go. It isn’t until Odysseus and the crew have fixed their eyes on you that he finally descends. “My my~ what a surprising turn of events.” Hermes brings a light-hearted air with him, doing his best to distract the crew so he can keep you in his arms for longer. He quite likes the feel of you tucked up against his chest and solely held up by his strength as your arms wrap around his neck. You look very adorable this close to him, your head easily tucked up under his chin. 

“Thank you, Hermes,” Odysseus smiles gratefully to the god. He was one of the only gods to be of help to him in the musical, and it appears he’s sustaining that reputation. It only irks the King of Ithaca that Hermes seems to have made contact with you already, without him or anyone else knowing, and given you his blessing.

“Don’t thank me, friend~” Hermes turns his full attention to you, gently setting you down, “I didn’t do it for you particularly...”

‘Thank you for your help, Hermes,’ you voice in your head, knowing the god can hear your words clearly. 

“Of course, my fair lady~” Levitating several inches above the ground, Hermes bows graciously at the waist for you, smiling an easy smile. “But don’t you suppose that I should be rewarded for my efforts?” he teases, offering his cheek for you to kiss. That was his reward. His actions make Odysseus splutter in disbelief as several crew members, Polites and Eurylochus especially, do their best to keep their protests behind clenched teeth, silently begging you not to yield to the god. 

As you give him a skeptical look, Hermes laughs. He planned to shrug it off, knowing that he wouldn’t have received anything from you. He even made the effort not to ask you for a kiss outright, knowing the disadvantage mortals have against a god’s will. Hermes only meant to get a rise out of the crowding audience, his devious nature wouldn’t permit him to leave otherwise. However, he was surprised when, rather than wave his silly request away, you place your hands on his shoulders, stabilising yourself first before closing your eyes and gently puckering your lips, aiming for his offered cheek — a cheek kiss was innocent enough. 

What a pleasant surprise~ Hermes grins deviously.

Taking the opportunity, Hermes wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you impossibly close—to the point where you can feel his toned muscles far too sensitively. Once securely in his arms, he tilts his head to meet your lips with his own, shooting the two of you up into the air as he does so. He likes an audience, but he’s sure you wouldn’t be the biggest fan. Nor will you be happy if he lingers above the crew such that they could look up your dress skirt so he pulls you with him to perch atop one of your lush trees, far from the crew. Your surprised gasp gives him the perfect opportunity to steal more of your breath away. His tongue swoops in and pulls yours into a heated dance as his hand trails up to press against the back of your head and deepen your embrace. Unable to resist, you fall deeply into the kiss, reciprocating with your heart racing in your chest as heat crawls up your neck to settle over your cheeks. How is he such a good kisser? His lips, his arms and hands confine you to him, making the rest of the world disappear — you’ve barely registered that you’re no longer on the beach but rather cradled in the branches of a tree with him. 

Odysseus and the crew were too shocked to react as they were left behind. The last image of you that they saw were your lips connecting with Hermes’s own. Their nerves had been frozen up from being in the presence of two gods and at such close proximity, but those same nerves were quickly thawed by the heat of their rage. Immediately, they go searching for you, not needing to look for long as they see you lying against Hermes in the branches of a tree not too far into the island. 

“My my~” Hermes pants after pulling away, smirking at your breathlessness and unwilling to let you go. The mischievous nature in him spots the infuriated crew in his periphery and immediately decides to play with them. Levitating the two of you once more, he dangles you before the crew tauntingly before slowly descending, your feet finally touching solid ground again, but his arms remain secure around you. The crew doesn’t dare jump forth and bring you to safety, no matter how much they want to, especially when Hermes dares to giggle at them. Spurred on by the fury on their faces, Hermes dips you down and nuzzles his nose into the base of your neck, his eyes pinning the crew down sharply while his lips tenderly kiss the soft skin of your upper chest area, “you taste divine, darling~ So sweet. Just like the first time...”

Odysseus choked on air as his eyes bulged out. “THE FIRST TIME?!”

Hermes laughs and lifts into the air slightly, bringing you with him and making you twirl with your arm raised and your feet lifted several inches off the ground. He pulls you back in again, just as tightly as before, emphasising his affection for you. “This certainly won’t be the last time, either.” he looks into your rounded, glittering eyes, cooing in adoration at your precious image. Everything was happening so fast that you could barely comprehend it all, your mind still stuck on processing the kiss you shared with the mischievous god. “You’re truly far too tempting for your own good. I’m but a hungry, helpless beast at your service, my lady.” Hermes finally (finally!) sets you down and bows, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles before finally biding his farewells for the time being. 

When you finally turn around, Odysseus had come dangerously close, his eyes wild with barely restrained rage and stern protectiveness. “You have some explaining to do, young lady.”

But…But I can’t talk! You wail internally, pulling a helpless expression, but Odysseus is undeterred. Hermes… you jerk! 

navi. | series m.list

next | five. the journey home →

a/n : once again, I couldn't stop writing until I finished, even if it means sleeping at 3am -- but I'm just as addicted as anyone else to this series so... here you darlings go... i'm going to bed now!

For those of you who need/want the reminder, these are my villagers: Fauna ; Shino ; Poppy ; Filbert ; Marshal ; Chrissy ; Fang ; Boots ; Gaston ; Mitzi

taglist : @bluepanda08 @doodle-with-rhy @sunshinedaisy21 @jolixtreesunn @ellaprime7 @marcelemry @nishayuro @hijinkxy @kerosene-demon @windrosesrasta @keikeiluvyou @darling-eos @iamapotatoe @yuzxi18 @woncloudie

[justasecretflower]

Babysitting Ft. The homicipher men

Synopsis- you were tasked with babysitting a baby around 5 months old. How do the homicipher men act around human babies?.. / all set in the real world / happy love ending

incl- Mr. Crawling, Mr. Scarletta, Mr. Chopped, Mr. Silver, Mr. Hood.

Cw/ baby fever,

Mr. Crawling

🖤your sibling just dropped off your niece, a slobbery, chunky, baby 2 minutes ago with a bag of necessities in tow, now, you’re watching Bluey with her on the couch..and so is mr. Crawling

🖤your niece was a little intimidated by Mr. Crawling at first, you picked her up from your sibling, shut the door and as soon as your nice and Mr. Crawling made eye contact, the baby was wailing and Mr. Crawling was stressing

🖤soon, though, you three rested on the couch. Well, you and your niece and mr. Crawling awkwardly sitting on the floor in front of you

🖤he felt a small tug, only to turn his head to see chubby little fingers pulling on his hair. The small creature babbled and cooed, the fingers grabbing and twirling at his hair.

🖤he smiled and giggled, seeing the adorable tiny thing enjoy his hair.

🖤he figured out how to play with the tiny thing. Poke her belly, peak a boo, tickle her a little and throw her then catch her. He loved his little buddy!!

🖤while the baby was asleep, all sprawled out he looked over at you, a happy smile on his face “how” “make?”

🖤”how make..a baby?” You pointed at your nice confusingly he nodded eagerly. You paused and simplified ‘how to make’

🖤he only smiled, looking at the baby, then you again “we make?”

Mr. Scarletta

❤️when the baby gets dropped off he kinda just stays.. away. He's not used to small humans being around.

❤️you encourage him to at least come and hangout. To which he complies, obviously, since he's at your service.

❤️he stands next to you while you spoon feed the baby, and pass over the spoon when your phone rings. At first, he didn't know what to do, he just awkwardly stood by with the baby spoon till he mimics the airplane thing that you did and feeds the baby.

❤️he finds a strange joy when the baby starts babbling, clapping her hands and giggling, as if it made him happy that she was happy.

❤️he has found a new friend! after feeding her he let's you clean her up because he doesn't know how but then afterwards grabs the little thing right out of your hands to go hold her and play with her on the couch

❤️he found it so cute that humans are sometimes this small and weak. He likes it when she wraps her fingers around his finger. He finds it so cute.

❤️cradles the baby, watches tv with her, just gently swaying with the baby, he loves it! sign him up. I know some people will probably think he doesn't like babies, but he does! he likes how small and weak they are. Just little lumps of slobbery chunk that babbles. So cute.

Mr. Silver

🩶fascination. Naturally. What is this small human?

🩶he kinda just..observes. Watches how to take care of such an incapable, small little lump.

🩶he finds them cute though. Likes to see what makes them happy, stresses out when he accidentally makes them cry.

🩶he watches the kids shows and tries to decipher a meaning and see the affect the colors and sounds have on the baby and what it benefits to them.

🩶tries to teach the baby monster language, but is only met with a small, confused head tilt. Gives up on it after you tell him the baby only knows some words in human language. It was hard teaching you monster language, a fully capable adult, it'd be nearly impossible teaching a little, babbling creature.

🩶watches out for dangers while she sleeps, stands over her and watches for any possible threat. Once a fly flew in her general direction. and it immediately got a scalpel thrown directly at it, pinning it to the wall.

🩶definitely protective over her.

Mr. Chopped

🧡not a fan

🧡why do humans have these attention sucking things?!

🧡gets mad at the baby stealing away your attention and especially hates it when you choose to pickup and sway the baby instead of him

🧡No! Not baby! pick up me! carry!

🧡the baby would be interested in him, grabbing at his face and hair, yes, he bit the child, no, he didn't apologize.

🧡just sulks until the baby leaves. You won't get him to watch the baby, try to make funny faces at the baby to play, you will get nothing out of him.

🧡I saw a video with a dude saying he had abortion fever, that's literally mr. chopped. He hates it when it cries, grabs at his face, he all around does not like the baby.

🧡do NOT babysit with him.

Mr. Hood

🤎He get's so soft when he first sees the baby, how cute, how delicate.

🤎he wants to help the baby, get out of his way. Teach him how to do it once and he's on a roll, sit back, don't do anything he's got this.

🤎is it because he wants you to relax? partially, more so because he wanted to hangout with the strange, small little human. He adores the baby sooo much.

🤎he hates it when the baby cries, but is very, very patient and handles the baby extremely well.

🤎probably the most patient, nurturing, and caring of all of the homicipher men, Mr. Scarletta knows how to take care of a baby, just doesn't like to, he just likes playing with them, Mr. Silver kind of sees the baby as a learning experience, Mr. Crawling leaves as soon as the baby cries, and Mr. Chopped is well.. Mr. Chopped.

🤎is like Mr. Crawling, now he wants one. But gets weary when he learns about birth and pregnancy, it seems like a lot on you.

🤎could you two just like...steal one?

ART CREDS!! - bubble_oog on X, Akiyori09 on Reddit :).

tags

[bnpd]

Golden Boy ! ᡣ𐭩

"so this is gojo satoru."

you first heard of gojo when you were a freshman in high school, you first saw gojo when you were a junior, you first talked to him when you were a senior, and then you disliked him. but he first loved you when he first met you.

basketball player!gojo x photography/journalist!reader DRABBLE WORD COUNT: 3K

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NOTE: basketball gojo is rotting my brain btw! so here’s another AU of them, enjoy. not a fic, more of a really really long drabble. posting this while you guys wait for long shot part 3! okay sorry too much yap! not proof read sorry chat

high school: 2007

you grew up with a fascination for cameras–photography as a whole–, and the idea of perfectly capturing the moment.

when you first started high school you would bring your camera and a journal everywhere. it was a small camera your parents bought to allow you to explore your life-long interest. 

you were very much kept to yourself. if you didn’t have to talk to anyone, you didn’t choose to. you liked being alone, and there’s nothing depressing about that. you only had one friend, and her name was utahime. 

you were a geek! not in a bad way, but in a way where you had a passion for books, writing, games, photography, you name it.

if anyone asked about you, no one would know how to answer. no one really knew much about you. with that in mind, you were still approachable, and kind.

if anyone engaged in conversation with you, you didn’t shy away—you politely engaged back. 

now, things stayed like that for the entirety of freshman to spring semester of sophomore year because one day your graphics and design teacher, mr. mendez, caught you taking pictures of inanimate objects, offering you a position on the yearbook team.

your high school was huge, and names weren’t frequently known, especially not yours. but those rules didn’t apply to athletes. especially the golden boy—gojo satoru. 

gojo satoru was a well-known name—gojo, itself, was a well-known name—his family came from money and they funded the entire school. you never actually met, or saw him, considering your schedules were completely different. but, in your junior year that changed. when your teacher asks you to go to a basketball game to cover the athlete section since the boy who was initially covering it got sick. 

you’re frowning to yourself the entire day just thinking about having to stay after school to watch the game.

the time comes and you’re sitting at the back of the stands, holding onto your camera, waiting for the game to start. it’s a packed game. that doesn’t surprise you. what does surprise you, is how crazy everyone is going over a mere game of basketball before it even starts. 

you almost jolt out of your seat when you feel someone tap your shoulder, and turn to see someone sweetly smiling at you. a boy. “I think mr. mendez is trying to get your attention,” he extends his finger, pointing, and you follow the direction of it. and, indeed, your teacher was trying to get your attention. 

you sweetly mutter a quick ‘thank you’, to the boy before collecting your things, and walking towards mr. mendez. 

“so, i figured you’re new to this, but when you take pictures during sports events, you’re usually pretty close to the court, standing,” he motions to the court with his hands, and you give him a confused look even though you understood exactly what he was saying, in hopes of a different alternative. unfortunately he does not give you one.

so, now you’re standing next to the court. camera, in hand, when the lights dim down just a tiny bit and cheerleaders emerge from the sides to begin their routine.

you take this as your opportunity to snap a few pictures. you capture a picture of the captain smiling, a few others of flyers mid-air, and some of the perfect routine moments.

after they finish, you find an empty seat at the very front. you think of all the things that you could’ve been doing at the moment. like reading on your porch swing, watching the sun set. 

then the coach blows the whistle and finally the game is about to begin. the faster this goes, the faster you’ll be home, snuggled up in bed with your dog keeping your feet warm. 

you stand to take pictures, and watch as the players emerge from the locker room, one after the other, jogging down to their designated seating area. but you don’t have a particular reaction, until you see another figure emerge, and you’re a bit struck at how handsome he is. gorgeous, even. 

‘so, this is gojo satoru.’

he’s smiling, and you just know he thinks he’s hot shit with the way he jogs over to the rest of his teammates. ‘we’ll see about that’ you thought to yourself. 

and see you did. 

he was incredible on the court—professional level good—.

you took a great number of pictures, ones where he’s doing some kind of handshake with another star player, geto suguru, another set of pictures of other players, some of gojo by himself, but your favorite one, by far, had to be the one after he shoots the final shot, and almost as if he sensed the camera, looked your way, and smiled. a cute boyish smile. you looked at your camera in shock and disbelief.

you felt your face heat up by a billion degrees.

it was the most perfect picture you ever captured. and you don’t even think he noticed because he runs back to his teammates, as if nothing had happened. 

you went home that night in a bit of a daze. a new crush had developed. a very tiny, atom sized crush, but a crush nonetheless. 

the next day mr. mendez asked for the pictures you took at the basketball game, yet you found yourself not uploading the picture of gojo smiling directly at the camera to the USB drive. it felt wrong. 

so you kept it to yourself. 

you still didn’t see him much after that. he was like an enigma to you. everyone knew so much of him.

senior year rolls around and you’re now the head of the yearbook team. you’re applying to colleges/unis, and you’re really shooting high for this specific ivy league university because of the amazing combined photography–journalism program they offered, praying that they give you the full-ride you applied for. 

you’re sitting in the graphic and design room one day, editing some final touches of the yearbook, when mr. mendez calls your name, “we have a yearbook interview for the time capsule and photoshoot for the basketball team today, and i need you to be there to direct both, is that okay?” 

you nod and reply with a simple, “sure”. 

in reality your heart is pounding because you know you’ll have to see gojo again, and actually talk to him. 

it’s finally after school, and you’re setting up the equipment for, not only, the photos, but the interviews as well. 

you hear the ruffling of the setup behind you while you try to position the camera for the interviews at the right angle, you let out a small frustrated groan “mahito stop fucking around and help me–”

“mahito?” the voice asks you and you feel yourself still because that voice is not mahitos’s. you get up from your position, and you almost die in your spot when you see gojo standing there with an unreadable look on his face. 

an unreadable look that studies you.

“oh, im sorry i thought-”, he cuts you off before you can finish.

“hm,” he lets out in a rude manner and you almost reel back at how condescending he looked. (canon high school gojo i fear).

 ‘this can’t be the same guy that I had a crush on last year’

but it was. 

the worst part is, the entire time you took the team’s photos, he wasn’t outwardly mean. but he had an energy to him that put you off. one that told you he thought he was better than you. his mannerisms screamed arrogance, and carelessness.

you kept to yourself for the majority of the photoshoot, muttering occasional instructions. 

the rest of the team were really nice. they’d strike up a conversation, here and there. you, of course, responded politely and engaged in conversation, returning their enthusiasm. but the entire time you felt piercing blue eyes. 

you’d catch him whispering to geto, and even though you knew they weren’t talking about you, it left you paranoid. 

for the interviews, you kept it polite. until you got to gojo. you hit the record button on the camera, asked him the question, and listened to him as he talked about how great and amazing he was. you found yourself drifting off. 

‘there’s no way this guy is that full of himself.’

he was. 

you wrap up the interviews and go home. a bit caught off guard by his behavior. it wasn't that he was mean, but why would you willingly be in the presence of someone like this? and from that point on, you disliked gojo satoru.

college: 2013

in the end, you got accepted into the ivy league you had hoped for, got a full ride, and were accepted into the photography and journalist program. you looked completely different than how you did in college (you were grateful for this). things couldn’t get any better, but they could get worse. 

you found out you actually went to the same university as gojo. you didn’t realize it until you saw his huge basketball banner in the gymnasium one day. you’re not paranoid of bumping into him here. if you didn’t bump into him in high school, you definitely won’t here. 

but perhaps a party. 

let’s say, one of your friends invited you, and gojo definitely notices you because he finds you somehow familiar and attractive. still, he hasn’t recognized you because you’re not angled in a manner that he can see you.

so he goes to talk to you, and let’s say you don’t take it lightly. you're not rude or anything, but you reject him, and he’s shocked. 

you stare at him before walking away, leaving him standing there in bewilderment. 

he watches you leave, and it takes him a while as he’s standing there but it clicks. he can’t be upset that you just rejected him in front of people, nor can he be upset that you walked away from him. he’s just honestly elated to find you here. 

the only thought in his head is that you’re here and he finally has a chance again after realizing his attempt in high school was not it. he didn’t know you in high school, nor did he know you now, but he thought you were the most interesting person back then. and it looks to him that you still are. 

now’s his chance, and he’d be damned if he passed it up. 

so he kind of finds out where you work part-time, and goes to the campus diner around the corner (where you work). it’s a late evening, and the only customers around were the old couple who visited every friday, the frequent patrons (who were college students), were all at a party that’d been advertised all week. 

it was only you, the couple, and now gojo. 

you don’t look up when you hear the door bells jingle, only gently shouting a “welcome!”, while you’re too busy wiping down the milkshake bottle. 

gojo is a bit nervous, but he pushed forward. 

he sits on the barstool by the counter you're now wiping down, sensing a presence you look up are surprised to find gojo, “hi,” gojo starts, you narrow your eyes at him a little. 

“hello,” you reply back, “what can i get for you?” you ask him before reaching under the counter to grab a menu, placing it in front of him. he doesn’t touch the menu, nor look at it, he stares into you as he says, “i’d like to start off with the sweetest milkshake you have.” 

since that night at the diner he would often show up on fridays, sit on the same stool, and order the same thing. if he didn’t order the same thing, he’d ask you for any recommendations. whatever you told him to get, he’d get it and completely finish it. 

gradually you began to warm up to him. it blossomed into a sweet genuine friendship. after that checkpoint, he would wait for you to finish your shift, and walk you out. 

when your friendship developed into something deeper—something more—he knew he had it good. he was so smitten, anyone who saw you two could tell. 

your first date happened after he came to the diner one night. 

“what can i get for you?” you asked him with a cheeky smile, leaning over the counter with your elbows on the table. he takes it as his sign to also lean his elbows over the counter, mirroring your stance.

satoru’s head slightly tilts playfully, eyes briefly landing on your lips before landing on your eyes again. 

a pause. 

“a date.”

it took him only a single date to ask you out because he knew before the first one that you were the one. 

now

“daddy was mean to mommy?” your son asked, an extremely worried and shocked look on his face. 

you gently laugh before settling into a smile but satoru has a big frown on his face.

satoru puts his hand on top of your son's head, “well, daddy was an idiot, i was just trying to impress your mommy,” he explains.

“daddy is a jerk!” your daughter then speaks, and satoru’s jaw drops. you’re trying to contain your laughter as satoru stands up and grabs both of your kids off the couch, throwing them over his shoulders as they squeal. your daughter lets go of the scrapbook you made, but you catch it just before it hits the ground. 

you gently place it over the coffee table as you follow your husband up the stairs to the kids rooms. 

they’re both squealing when satoru puts them both in their respective beds. 

you watch silently from the door as he kneels between both beds to whisper something to the kids and your heart leaps as you watch their eyes light up. just like their father. he kisses them each on the forehead as he tucks them into their beds. 

“mommy! we want your kiss too,” your son says. you walk over and give them both loud forehead pecks. 

you’re so incredibly happy with your little family. 

satoru stands up from his kneeling position to stand behind you, wrapping an arm around you. 

“goodnight my little angels. sleep well, you’ll need energy tomorrow for the aquarium,” he tells them sweetly. 

you turn on their night light before turning off the room light, “and don’t forget, mommy and daddy are here if you need anything,” you remind them. 

“okay mommy,” you hear your babies say. 

you shut the door and head to your room. 

satoru is on you in seconds. 

his hands move from your waist to your rear as he peppers kisses all over your face, and neck. you sigh happily into him as you wrap your arms around him. 

he gives you a squeeze, and he swallows the moan that releases out of you in a passionate, and longing kiss. 

“missed you so much,” he admits in between kisses. satoru had been away for two weeks for some out-of-state games, but he would call, text, and facetime you every chance he got. he’d call first thing in the morning as soon as he would wake up, while he was getting ready, during breaks at practice, before a game (always before a game), after a game (you watched every single game), on his way back to his hotel, right before bed, and even in his sleep he’d ask to stay on the phone. 

you’re a bit embarrassed to admit to how many times you two had phone sex during the away games that you couldn’t go to. 

before you had kids, he would take you everywhere with him, and while that is still somewhat the case. the children have school so it's a bit harder to manage to travel with him. 

“me too ‘toru,” you moaned, your tone earning a tiny whine from him.

“don’t do that," he starts "you know what calling me that does to me.”

he leans in to capture your lips again, but you’re leaning away. satoru pulls you closer in an attempt to kiss you again, but you refuse again.

you settle with a quick peck on the lips.

“we need to go to bed too because we have to be up earlier.” you remind him, and he’s smiling at you, “i know what’ll put you to sleep.”

you playfully push him off, “that's what you said right before i got pregnant with our second child,” you joke. 

he’s trailing after you like a puppy into the restroom as you ready yourself for bed, “maybe i want a third child,” he challenges and you look at him through the reflection in the mirror. 

you take in the serious look on his face, and you stand straighter at his admission. 

“'toru–” you start before he cuts in, “i’m retiring,” he starts, “i want to focus on our family. basketball is great, but it’s not my life. you are. after we win finals, im retiring.” 

you turn to him completely, and pull him into a strong hug. “I love you,” you gently admit. “I love you so much more, you have no idea,” he tells you, wrapping you in his arms. he engulfed you in his safety.

you share a moment of silence, before satoru ruins the moment. 

“I’m telling the kids you stalked me and secretly took pictures of me,” you pinch him. 

“Ow!”

BONUS ୭ ˚

your parents had convinced you to try out for the cheerleading team in high school. and you did. 

it was on a sunny afternoon, every school sports team imaginable was outside in the field. even the basketball team. they were doing their laps around the track field, which circled the current patch of grass that was hosting the cheerleader tryouts. 

“alright everyone, let's get ready for toe touches,” the captain announced enthusiastically. you’re a little distracted when you briefly make eye contact with a certain white-haired boy from across the field then you remember where you are and what was just said. you felt a little out of place, “i’m sorry,” you started, “what are toe tou–”

“ready? okay!” she shouted. 

you stand dumbfounded in the middle. however, you soon find out what a toe touch is as the girl beside you launches her foot into your face, knocking your head back from the force and collision. the impact is unexpected and the girls gasp. 

you’re too busy on the ground to realize a certain boy also created his own commotion on the track field when he collided with his best friend, sending them both to the ground because of his momentary distraction. 

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gojo and reader loser agenda

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[totally-not-niyah]

A Princess and a Pirate

A/N: This lil thing makes sense but also kinda doesn't? Uh- I was working on this many months apart so I probably forgot some stuff and had to come up with a lil sumn to replace but I think overall, the plot is pretty easy to follow...? IDK, ANYWAYS ENJOY-

Pairing: Harry Hook x Reader Word Count: 5k Warnings: refers to intentional harm? idk if that counts; OH! I usually write Harry with his accent, so that's why his dialogue may look weird, and then highkey a warning for this plot!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Ever since the barrier on the Isle had come down, inviting all the VKs to the wonderful kingdom of Auradon, things were changing around here. 

You had to admit, it was interesting and fun to see new people getting to experience what Auradon had to offer for the very first time, and meeting all of the Isle kids was pretty enjoyable.

Especially a certain group of pirates. 

You had heard about Uma and her crew through your sister, Audrey, who essentially heard about them through all of Mal’s prior ramblings about her, but you never got the chance to see her in person during the Cotillion, since you went off with Chad right before it started to pick your sister up from the Fairy Cottage. 

However, now that her and her crewmates were here and settling down in the land, you found yourself running into them around the school grounds, and frankly, you had quite a fascination. 

Specifically, a fascination with Harry Hook, Uma’s first mate. 

There was something about the son of Captain Hook that was just so…enticing. His eyes, his hair, his voice. The crazy thing is, you’d never exchanged words with him. Like, ever. Yet somehow, what started off as an innocent fascination turned into a full-blown crush.

Unfortunately, though, not everyone was as…open and welcoming to the new VKs as you were. 

There were still some royals and nobles (including your grandmother, Queen Leah) who felt that people like them didn’t belong in Auradon. To top it off, you were friends with one of them. 

For instance, Jania, who was the daughter of one of the men on Ben’s council, made constant little jabs and comments at the new arrivals, showing you a whole different side of her. 

“I give it a couple more weeks before they go and screw something up around here,” she mumbled as the two of you were walking from a class. 

“Well, they’re bound to make a mistake, Nia. They just got here,” you replied, confused to where the conversation was coming from all of a sudden. “They’re still learning the ropes.”

Jania rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right. You really think they’ll stay out of trouble?”

“You had trouble when you first started too, remember?” 

“At least I actually belonged here.”

You frowned a bit at the insinuation. “That’s not fair.”

“Whatever,” she scoffs. “ I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.” 

You do just that, seeing as you were right beside your locker, anyways. When she’s out of eyesight, you turn your body, letting out a gasp as you accidentally bump into someone and stumble. If it weren’t for them grasping your arms to steady you, you probably would’ve been on the floor. 

“Oh!” you stammer with wide eyes, immediately forming an apology on the tip of your tongue. “I’m so sorry!”

When you actually register who it was you bumped into, your eyes widen some more. 

It was Harry. 

“Aye, no worries, lass,” he says, amusement dancing in his bright blue eyes. “Yeh got some quick reflexes.” 

You laugh a bit, a mixture of both nerves and awkwardness, because how could you possibly fumble that bad? Eyes darting around a bit, you look for something to say, before realizing that there was a hook wrapped around one of your arms instead of his other hand that was holding you up. 

“I, uh… I like your hook. It’s very…shiny.” 

Harry tilts his head, a grin playing on his lips. “Thank yeh? No one’s ever said that ta me before.”

“Yeah,” you force another weird laugh as he straightens your body back up, giving him little finger guns. “And thank you for catching me.”

Not even a full five seconds later and you cringe. Why am I so lame about this? 

Instead of making an even bigger fool outta yourself, you purse your lips and quickly crouch down to pick up the books you dropped. The boy above you keeps his eyes trained on you, gaze flitting to the front of the notebook you now held. 

“Yer name is (y/n)?” he asks, examining the personalized decoration of the notebook that included your name. 

“Yep,” you nod, rocking back and forth. “You’re Harry, right? Uma’s friend?”

“Tha’s right,” he smiles, giving you a dramatic bow that just fits him for some reason, your brain concludes. “A pleasure ta meet yah.”

Matching his energy, you offer a polite curtsy. “And you as well.”

The two of you are staring at each other with little smiles before the sound of footsteps break the moment. You turn around, finding that Jania had returned, and she was currently eyeing Harry with a hateful gaze. 

“Hey, pirate boy,” she sneers, yanking one of your hands into hers. “Go and terrorize someone else, my friend doesn’t wanna talk to you.”

“Wha- hey, no, Nia, don’t-!” your confused protests fall on deaf ears as she continues to drag you away with her, and all you can do is look back and mouth an “I’m sorry” to Harry before you turn a corner. 

“I can’t believe you were talking to that guy, (y/n)!” She hisses. “Didn’t we just have a conversation about this?”

“What are you so worked up for?” you murmur, trying to regain your footing because it feels like she’s dragging you away even faster. “You saw him, he’s nice, he has a sweet smile, he wasn’t terrorizing anyone-!” 

“Are you even listening to yourself?!” Jania stops abruptly just so she can give you a stare full of disbelief and disapproval. “Those villain kids aren’t out for anything but themselves. I mean, just look at Mal. She’s going to be Queen now. And look what that did to your sister!” 

“Don’t bring Audrey into this,” you frowned, getting defensive over the fact that she was speaking your sister’s name in a conversation she didn’t even need to be a part of. “And please stop talking like that. You sound like my grandma.” 

“Well, maybe you should start listening to her for once,” she mutters under her breath. “Just stay away from them, alright?” 

That didn’t happen. 

Ever since that day, it was like the two of you kept on running into each other. Not that you were complaining. In fact, it was further fueling your attraction towards Harry. Whenever the two of you saw each other, you’d stop to say hi, maybe even have a brief conversation. And of course, you’d always hear Jania’s mouth about it, but it’s not like she could control your actions. 

One day, sometime during lunch, Harry spotted you sitting alone at a table, and decided to make his way over to you. 

“All by yerself?” He asks, grabbing your attention. 

“No,” you told him with a smile, sitting down your phone and sitting upright. “I’m waiting on someone. But you can sit till she gets here. If you wanna.”

He gladly accepts the offer, taking a seat next to you. 

“Let me guess, th’ one tha’ hates my guts?” 

Even though the look on his face shows that he’s only joking, you can’t help but feel sheepish. 

“Right,” you sigh. “I’m really sorry about that. She’s just a little…hard to soften up.”

“Are yeh bein’ nice about it?” he smirks. 

“…‘Lil bit.” The two of you share a laugh for a few seconds. “But to answer your question, no. I’m waiting for my sister.” 

His eyebrows lift slightly. “Yeh have a sister?” 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Audrey.” The realization clicks in Harry’s mind. 

“Aw, yer a Beauty kid~” he coos, resting his chin in the palm of one of his hands. “I ‘ave sisters too, actually.” 

“Really?” 

And so from there, he begins to delve into random tales with him and his sisters, even describing them for you so that you’ll know who they are if they ever pass by you around school. The stories have you so interested that you forget that your sister was supposed to be there until she actually showed up with both your lunches.��

She takes the spot next to you after Harry leaves you alone with her, waiting for a little while before speaking. 

“You like him, don’t you?”

The topic almost makes you choke on your food. 

“Hm?” 

“You. Like. Him,” she emphasizes, flicking you in the shoulder. 

“Where’d you get that idea?” You scoff. 

“Are you serious? As soon as I walked over here, you were just staring at him like-” she copies your attentive gaze, batting her lashes for dramatic effect. 

Rolling your eyes, you deny her claim, “ I didn’t even do all that.”

“But you do like him, right? You never said no.”

“I never said yes, either,” you retort. 

“You totally do, though,” she giggles. “I'm your sister. You can’t lie to me. I know these things.”

With a groan, you shake your head. “Fine. A little bit, yes.”

“A little?” 

“That’s all you’re getting,” you tell her, pushing her back with a laugh when she leans closer to you. “Get outta my face, Audrey!” 

=

Getting closer to Harry was fun. 

You found yourself constantly seeking him out, whether in school or in certain social settings, holding longer conversations with and getting to hang around both groups of friends with him, both yours and his. 

A favorite memory of yours in particular was when he sought you out after the sunset upon Auradon, so that you could join him in stargazing. 

“Yeh know, I’ve never actually really seen the stars before,” he comments as he sits beside you on the soft grass. 

“Really?” You said with surprise, to which he nodded. 

“It was a big dark cloud above the sky. Not much ta see like tha’.” 

“…Huh. And now that you can see them? What do you think of them?” 

He takes a moment to think before responding. “They’re…a lot brighter from ‘ere. Ye can even see the light reflecting off the lake.” 

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, noting how the sparkling dots of light twinkle in the water of the lake. You lean over a bit, getting a closer look when, all of a sudden, you feel water splash your side, making eye contact with a grinning Harry. 

“Hey!” Splashing him back, you watch him practically run away from the water, giggling along with you as a back and forth water war was waged. 

Once the two of you settled down, you started a game of creating your own constellations in the night sky, occasionally arguing about what they did and didn’t look like. As much as you would’ve liked to stay like that all night, the time of student curfew was approaching. 

“Thanks for this,” you said, smiling at him. “I had a lot of fun.” 

“Yeh don’ have ta thank me,” he replies, draping your sweater over your shoulders since it was getting cooler out. “I…like yer company.” 

“…I like your company, too.”

You’re gazing into his eyes, and he into yours. You can feel the way you both lean in, ever so closer to each other, until your faces are remotely close. Just when you feel the urge to make a move and go for it, you hear the clock chime, signaling that it was time to go. 

Pulling away slowly, you let out a soft exhale before smiling again, clutching the front of your sweater. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you murmurs. “Night, Harry.” 

“…G’night, darlin’,” he bids before you go your separate ways. 

The entire way back to your dorm, you’re grinning so hard your cheeks start to hurt. Even your sister and friend notice as they peep your giddy demeanor when you walk in. 

“Aahhhh, someone’s date went well~” Audrey squealed, clapping her hands. Jania was sitting beside her, dead silent but attentive. 

“It wasn’t a date, Audrey,” you chuckled, putting away your things. 

“That’s your opinion, anyways! Was it nice? Did you have fun? Did you two kiss?”

”Slow your roll! Yes, it was nice. Yes, I had fun. And we…almost kissed?” 

You can see the way her eyes light up, clearly invested in your first romantic experience. Jania, on the other hand, finally decides to say something. 

“Wait, wait, so this little thing of yours is getting serious?” 

“Uh…yes?” You say, unsure if that was even the right answer. Probably not. “No? Ugh, I dunno…he’s so sweet, you guys, and I really, really like him, but maybe I’m reading into this too much-?” 

“Better enjoy it while it lasts,” she mutters, getting up to go and lay in her own bed. 

Her words catch you off guard. “Huh? What does that mean?” 

“Nothing at all. Good night.” 

Both you and Audrey look at each other, not understanding what just happened, but shrug it off as she pats the spot across from her so that you can tell her everything that’s occurred during your time with Harry. 

The following morning, when you wake up, the first thing you notice is that it was only your sister in there with you, who was curling her hair in the vanity mirror. 

“…Where’s Nia?” You inquire, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. 

She looks your way, then towards Jania’s bed. 

“I have no idea,” she says thoughtfully. “She just said that she was getting an early start on the day.” 

You scrunch your face up. “That doesn’t sound like her at all, but hey, what do I know?” Yawning, you plop back down, trying to see if you could squeeze in another 15 minutes of sleep. 

=

During your first passing period, you’d taken Harry along with you to go see Ben in his office. Neither of you had addressed nor even slightly mentioned what happened last night, just going on as if it never happened. Which was good, because you didn’t think you could handle the awkwardness of a “hey, did we almost kiss?” conversation. 

You knock on the door, waiting for the green light before walking inside. 

“Hey, Ben,” you greet, placing a pamphlet down on his desk. “Someone dropped this off for you today.” 

“Oh, thank you,” he says, glancing up at you and doing a double take when he sees who’s accompanying you. “Did, uh, did you need something too, Harry?”

He shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m jus’ here f’her.” 

Your eyes drift over to a tray sitting on one of the spare tables. 

“Ooo, candied apples?”

“Yeah, someone dropped them off earlier,” he responds. “I didn’t get a chance to see who it was.” 

“Mm.” You were too distracted with the one you’d already picked up. 

“Hey! How do you always get into my stuff before I can?” 

“You weren’t even gonna eat these.”

”Maybe I was,” he retorted, and although you didn’t believe that because he almost never ate the treats that people would drop off for him (not because he didn’t like them, there would literally just be so many), you decided to play along anyways. 

“Fine, fine,” you sighed, looking down at the tray to examine all of them before picking one up from the middle, passing it to them. “Here, this one’s more red than the others. I think it’s more candy coating on it or something.” 

Ben laughs before tapping his apple against yours and taking a large bite out of it. 

“Harry, d’you want one?” You pick up another apple and offer it to him, but he declines your offer. 

“I don’t like those things,” he tells you. 

“Who doesn’t like candied apples?” Ben asks, happily chowing down on his. “They’re so good.” 

“No, the best kind are the ones they dip in caramel and peanuts,” you add, taking a small bite out of your own. “You have to try one of those.” 

“Oh, yeah, those-” Out of the blue, Ben just stops talking. You focus your eyes back on him, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“…What? What happened?” He shakes his head, trying to readjust himself. 

“Uh, nothing- sorry,” he says, but his words and movements are getting slower and slower. “I…don’t know what happened, I just…”

”Ben…?” You say, eyes soon widening in horror when his roll back and flutter shut, causing him to fall out of his chair. 

“Ben!!” Rushing over, you catch him just before his head hits the ground, patting his cheek to get him to regain consciousness. “Ben!!” 

Harry knelt down at your side, mouth agape because he’s just as confused as you as to what happened to the young king just that fast, but neither of you know what to do. 

“Somebody help!!” 

=

“And you’re sure that’s all that happened?”

“Yeah!” you told Belle, hands clasped together as you saw your friend lying unconscious. “H-he just ate the apple and then passed out.” 

When help finally came, Fairy Godmother was called, along with Ben’s parents, and close friends who were alerted like Audrey and Jania. Mal and her friends were in the middle of something when she was called, so she was rushing to get here now. 

Harry had stuck by your side the entire time, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly as you were now starting to panic. 

“May I see the apple?” Fairy Godmother asks. “Did you bring it?” 

“Yeah.” You reach into your bag, pulling out the apple by the stick it was secured upon, unraveling it from the napkin and passing it to her. 

She examines it thoroughly, turning it in all directions to search for anything out of the ordinary. “All the apples looked like this?” 

“...For the most part,” you murmur. “That one was a little darker than the others. It’s why I picked it out. I figured maybe it had more candy coating on it than the others.” 

Pursing her lips, she gives you a solemn look. 

“This apple was enchanted. It’s laced with a sleeping curse.”

Your eyes widen, the feeling of your stomach dropping almost making you stagger. 

“Oh, god,” you whispered, covering your mouth with your hands. “I fed Ben a poison apple, oh my god…”

“Easy, lass,” Harry said softly, gripping your shoulders. “It wasn’t yer fault.” 

“Yeah, (y/n), he’s right,” your sister agrees. “You couldn’t have known. Your intentions were good when you gave it to him.” 

“Were they?” Jania’s words have you looking over at her. “You deliberately picked out that apple, (y/n). Are you sure you didn’t have a trick up your sleeve?” 

“Wha… Jania, what are you talking about? I would never do something like that to Ben! He’s like a brother to me!” 

“Maybe then,” she argues. “But things can change after you start spending all your time with Auradon’s newest group of troublemakers.” 

You  furrow your brows just a bit, because you begin to see exactly where this is going. 

“Nia, they had nothing to do with this,” you state firmly, pointing to Harry, who seemed a little uncomfortable with the accusation. “He had nothing to do with this! Will you get that out of your head?”

“How do you expect me to?! He’s the only one out of the three of you that didn’t eat an apple!”

“Because he doesn’t like them! If I gave you something you didn’t like and you told me you didn’t wanna eat it, would that make you suspicious?” 

“This is different!” Jania insists, standing up from her chair. “You know villain kids have a track record with poison apples. He’s the perfect suspect!”

“When ‘ave yeh ever seen me touch an apple?” Harry asks, perplexed by the words coming out of her mouth. 

“It doesn’t matter! You know it’s true!”

“Okay,” you say frustratedly. “Let’s say maybe that is true. Why would Harry try poisoning Ben?”

“I don’t know! A power trick? God, Ben wasn’t even supposed to get to the stupid apple!”

“Oh, really? Why not?”

“Because you were supposed to eat it!!”

The outburst puts everyone’s actions on pause, struggling to grip onto what had just been said. 

When sense reforms in your mind, all you can work out is a small, “…Excuse me?”

Even now, Jania looks shocked by what’s come out of her mouth, covering it promptly as her eyes dart between each one in the room. 

“What did you just say?”

“I- nothing- I didn’t mean-” she stammers, shaking her head as she takes a small step back. ”I didn’t mean for that to come out.”

“No,” your sister stands as well, her suspicions beginning to rise as yours did. “But you sure meant for this to happen. And to my sister?”

“Aud, listen- I was only trying to help-” 

It’s obvious that the young girl is becoming anxious, fumbling to try and find a proper response. 

“It all makes sense,” you mumbled, mulling over her strange behavior in the past few days. She’d let go of your association with Harry for the most part, but you hadn’t thought anything of it, assuming she’d finally had enough of berating you over it. 

But now things have become clearer. 

The oddly vagueness of her words last night, when she said “enjoy it while it lasts,” the unusual morning disappearance, and the fact that she was more concerned with pinning the blame on Harry than she was about Ben’s unexpected state. 

Because it wasn’t unexpected. She had planned this all along. 

“You knew that I would try to get to them first,” you continued on as you looked at the one you thought was your friend. “And that I would’ve probably picked that exact apple. You wanted me to eat it so that you could find a way to make it seem like Harry was the one who did it. Didn’t you?” 

Her eyes widened, astounded that you had figured out every inch of her plan.  

You feel Harry’s grip tighten slightly on your shoulders, and when you glanced up, he seemed pretty agitated at the revelation. 

“...Yeh tried ta poison her? Just ta set me up?” 

“Yeah, okay!” Jania finally confesses. “It may seem bad to you, but-”

Audrey’s about had enough of it already. “Don’t start trying to make excuses! You tried to put my sister’s life in danger, and all for what? Because you have some unspoken grudge against someone she’s in love with?”

Woah. Pause. 

“I- Audrey,” you whisper, trying to get her to retract that statement in an instant. However, she’s too concerned with getting on Jania’s case, so you can only pray and hope everyone else was also too distracted to hear what was just said. 

Especially Harry.

“I made a cure!” Jania tries to defend herself. “She wouldn’t have been asleep forever, she would have woken up eventually-” 

“Eventually?!” 

“Oh, god,” you hold a hand to your mouth for a second, unable to find anything that could help stop the argument before it escalates any further. 

Even though, truthfully, you didn’t want to. Jania got herself into this mess. She deserves more than being yelled at, another person’s life was at stake here. 

“Don’t you know that cures to sleeping curses have never actually worked?” Your sister continues. “Ever! Your silly little ‘cure’ would’ve failed, and then what? Then my sister would have been cursed for who knows how long!” 

“No! No, it wouldn’t- why are you so mad? I- I was only trying to help!” 

At that point, you step forward, too. “Help? I never needed help, Jania. You keep saying how- how the villain kids shouldn’t be trusted, but you were willing to risk my life and ruin someone else’s to prove a point. And rather than worrying about if Ben was actually gonna be okay, you keep overlooking it like it doesn’t even matter!”

You look at the adults in the room, knowing they would have much to say as well. Ben’s father notices your eyes, clearing his throat. 

“There will be consequences,” he says. “This was both an act of injustice and carelessness. It will be handled accordingly.”

Jania keeps her head hung low, knowing there was nothing she could do or say to shy away from the consequences of her actions. 

“As for you, Harry, we’re terribly sorry about this incident. If there’s anything we can do to make up for it, please let us know.”

The boy nods, and right as the statement is made, Mal comes rushing through the doors, followed by all her friends. 

=

Two weeks have passed since then, and everything has been cleared up. 

Jania had been suspended for 4 weeks, a week for Ben’s endangerment, a week for your intended endangerment, a week for attempting to frame someone, and a week for the unpermitted use of dangerous magic. 

You and Audrey got to remove her as a dorm mate, and although the offer was made to request a new one, you both found it pretty nice to have the extra space all to yourselves one Jania’s bed was out of there. 

Ben was doing fine as well, Mal had woken him up and broken the sleeping curse like everyone expected, and he even said that the whole thing felt like a really great nap, so he wasn’t too upset. 

As an apology for all that had happened, you had invited Harry out for ice cream. You hadn’t really gotten a chance to say sorry for him almost being kicked out of Auradon just for hanging around you, and even though it technically wasn’t your fault, you felt the need to say it anyway. 

So while the two of you sat out on a bench in the castle courtyard, you laid the spoon down in your half eaten cup of ice cream, shifting awkwardly. 

“So, I, um…” you begin, pursing your lips as you try to form a complete sentence. “I don’t think I ever got the chance to apologize for…everything that happened. I knew Jania was making it out to be a big deal, but…I didn’t think she would take it that far.” 

He turns to you with a soft smile, shaking his head. 

“Yeh know there’s no need for an apology, right?”

Blinking, you let out a small huff of breath, staring back down at the delicacy. “Well, obviously not if I’m doing it.” 

Harry giggles, nudging your arm with his. “It wasn’t yer fault, I’m not mad. I like a bit o’ drama every now an’ then.”

“Only you,” you retort, unable to hold back the smile that pulls at your lips. 

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Right as you begin to settle down from your internal conflict, something hits you like a brick.

Your sister may or may have not revealed that you were starting to fall in love. With him. 

What should you do? Should you say something? Maybe bury it in a box and hope it never sees the light of day?

“Yeh know, it’s cute how yeh go from super talkative ta super quiet,” he remarks, interrupting your train of thought. 

“Sorry,” you say. “...We’re still friends, right?”

The look of confusion on his face shows that that was not the response he was expecting. 

“...Aye? Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Good.” Your head bobs along with your words. “Great. Yeah, no, I just… y’know, just clarifying.” 

Oh no, you were being super awkward again, like how you were when the two of you first met. 

Although this time, you might actually go dig a hole for yourself if you hit him with finger guns again. 

“This isn’t clarity enough?”

Groaning inwardly, you shove the spoon in your mouth. “No, that’s not how I meant it, just…give me a second to think.”

You can tell he wants to laugh again, but he tries not to for you, so you can spit all of this out. 

Finally, it spills, “I was just…hoping what my sister said the other day didn’t make things…weird?”

Honey, you’re making it weird!

He takes a moment to think back on what it was exactly that Audrey had said, and every second of silence makes you want to be dragged in front of a road. 

“…Ohhh,” he says, forcing down a grin. “Yeh mean when she said ye were in love with someone? An’ tha’ someone might possibly be me?”

It’s an obvious tease. He knew exactly what your sister said, he’s been quoting it word for word in his head for the past two weeks. 

You want to run away from this situation and never look this guy in the eyes again, no muscle in your body wants to actually move. 

“…Well, since we’re tellin’ secrets…” he sits down his ice cream, reaching a hand over to focus your eyes back on him before holding your face in his cool palms. “Guess wha’?”

Clearing your throat to settle the leaping in your chest, you bite, “…What?”

Harry’s eyes sparkle, which should’ve been your first indication that he was up to something. Still, you will yourself not to move, even as he leans ever so closer to your face, though not completely as he’s trying to gauge your reaction.

With no sign of rejection, he finally closes the gap between you, leaving you stunned for a moment as your lips are captured in a soft kiss. You soon melt into the feeling, hands abandoning the cup of ice cream on your lap in favor of grasping the front of his jacket. 

It feels just as magical as you’d imagined it when you thought it would happen all those nights ago. Although, you’re glad it’s longer to become reality. It makes the moment feel even more special, more meaningful. 

When the two of you pull away, his forehead rests against yours, a blissful silence wrapping around the atmosphere like a warm blanket, the warmth spreading through your chest. 

You can’t help but smile, looking up with eyes that shine just as bright as his do, unable to stop the giggling that bubbles in your throat, but soon, he’s laughing along with you. 

The two of you were an usual pair, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Just a princess and her pirate.  

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Glimmering Shadows Pt. 2 | Azriel x Reader

Summary: After the mating bond between the two of you formed, Azriel takes you to meet his family for a dinner.

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: Mentions of family problems, but other than that just some cute fluff

A/N: Sorry this was so long coming I went through some writer’s block, but it’s here now and I hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist

Your family hadn’t been the most supportive, which was expected when you suddenly told them that you were mates with not just a Night Court resident, but the Spymaster of Night Court, a male shrouded in mystery and vicious rumors of the things he’d done, how he was a violent, secretive and dangerous person.

Even your attempts to convince them otherwise hadn’t yielded much.

“He’s dangerous, especially for our kind. You’re delicate, he’s..anything but.” Your father had spoken, your mother just seeming concerned. They hadn’t told the rest of your family the truth behind your absence, other than the fact that you wouldn’t be coming back for quite a while.

Being cut off completely from your family hurt, they’d been there for your entire life, your first steps, first words, birthdays, graduations, heartbreaks, everything. But you didn’t have time to think about that now, not as you were standing outside the family townhouse of Azriel’s adoptive family, most of them being people he’d known for centuries.

It was more than a bit nerve-wracking.

“You don’t have to do this if it’s too much.”

Azriel’s voice, quiet and low, but soothing said. You swallowed, shaking your head. You would do this. His family had already been told that you would join them tonight, and you’d even dragged him out to help pick a dress, even though he said they all looked good on you.

You’d ended up choosing a light pink romper, a color that complimented your hair, and your light shimmery wings and the pixies that surrounded them. You hadn’t ever intentionally kept your wings out around strangers, but you felt like it was wrong to try and hide anything from your mate’s family. Especially since you suspected that he was waiting for his family’s approval to accept the bond.

“I want to.”

You replied quietly to him, his hands sliding into yours, a movement that was second nature by now. He gave you one last glance that said, “You can back out, I won’t be upset” but you only shook your head. He nodded almost imperceptibly, before gently leading you into the house, and opening the door.

The home itself was customized to everyone inside, and it was obvious. From the Illyrian-sized couch and armchairs to the large fireplace, or the garden in the backyard you could see through the windows or the paintings of the family. You recognized some, like the High Lord and his mate, or the General, then Azriel as well as a few other women.

As soon as you and Azriel were even three steps into the home, you were greeted with a little toddler squealing and hugging Az’s leg, before gaping up at you and reaching up to try and tug at your wings, seemingly fascinated with how they looked. Luckily, the High Lady scooped him up and away just in time, giving you an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, he’s wild these days. I’m Feyre, this is my son, Nyx.”

You smiled, looking down at the little boy and then at the female.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m-“

“Is Az’s girlfriend here?”

An excited and teasing voice asked, peeking around the corner before the General himself came into view. He was tall, muscular, and very brusque looking, a stern-looking female followed behind him, shooting him a look.

“Don’t cut her off,”

She snapped at him, and Cassian winced, hand going to rub the back of his neck as he sheepishly grinned.

“I’m Nesta, and this big idiot is my mate, Cassian.”

She said, eyes looking you up and down before whatever standards she held in her head were appeased and she relaxed a bit.

“I’m Y/N.”

You said, feeling oddly nervous now even though the hard part was mostly over. Rhysand strode into the room, smiling at you before murmuring something to Feyre and picking Nyx up and holding the little boy. It was a bit funny seeing the mighty High Lord having his ears and hair yanked on by a little toddler.

“Rhys, but I’m sure you already know that.”

He said in an amused tone, and Cassian snorted.

“Hard not to know your name when you’re such a massive prick.”

He said in a joking but casual tone with a crooked grin as he poked Rhys in the elbow, the High Lord squirming a bit. You glanced back at Azriel, amused, and his hazel eyes seemed to almost glitter as he smiled at you, looking gleeful that you were getting along with his family, or at least finding them entertaining.

Rhys rolled his eyes at Cassian’s remark, slipping his arm around his mate’s, and began walking into the kitchen.

“Oh, shut it. Let’s just eat dinner already.”

He said, and Azriel gave you a reassuring glance, arm gently placed around your waist as he led you into the kitchen that smelled of delicious food, and the two of you sat down, greeted with generous plates at the center of the table of meats, sides, all sorts of foods. Some of which you hadn’t ever seen in Spring Court.

The cooks, it seemed, were two shadowy females who you couldn’t tell apart, and another female, this one seemed like she could’ve been from Spring herself, happily finishing up the rest of the food with a warm smile. When she caught sight of you while putting the rest of the food at the center of the table, she offered a smile.

“I’m Elain.”

She said simply with a little nod before everyone else sat at the table. Nesta was to your left, Azriel to your right. Everyone got themselves some generous helpings of the large plate fills of food at the center, Azriel helping you cut up some of the meat that you couldn’t.

“Thanks,”

You said to him in a quiet tone, he smiled in a wry manner, raising a brow at you.

“It wasn’t that hard.”

He murmured back, and you gave him a look.

“If I knew you were so good at handling meat, I might’ve asked you sooner.”

You said back, and Cassian must’ve heard what you said because he snorted and choked on his food while Nesta smirked. Azriel only shook his head and smiled, giving you an amused and affectionate look that made your stomach fill with little butterflies. Rhys glanced between the two of you, a feline smile gracing his lips.

“You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, don’t you?”

He asked in an amused tone, at which Azriel only sighed, giving Rhys a little half-assed glare as his shadows slithered onto your skin and dress.

“It’s not hard,”

You said in an amused tone, at which Cassian let out a bark of laughter, Rhys shook his head and the females exchanged glances. Even Azriel let out a laugh at that, the sound deep and rich. The entire room went silent at that, them staring at Azriel, though he was too busy watching you to notice or care.

“Damn, you really do, huh?”

Cassian asked in an almost disbelieving tone, and Rhys, finally overcoming his surprise, smiled.

“I haven’t heard him laugh like that in nearly two centuries,”

He said, at which Azriel finally snapped back into reality, hand tightening around your waist as his cheeks lightly dusted with pink.

“Or that time when he watched you fall out of that big ass tree, that was pretty funny.”

Cassian said with a grin, and Nesta and Feyre both laughed.

“At least I didn’t get called ‘Cass with the Ass’ for my first few years at camp.”

Rhys retorted, and Cassian sputtered, looking to Nesta for some support, and getting none as she too snickered at the nickname. You giggled quietly and Azriel smirked. Cassian huffed, grumbling something under his breath.

“Someone’s jealous of my ass.”

He grumbled, and Rhys rolled his eyes.

“We all know that your ass is just overcompensating for something else.”

He said dryly, and everyone laughed at that, even Cassian had to admit that it was good.

Beneath everyone’s laughter, Azriel pulled you a bit closer to him from his chair, smiling at you as if it were just the two of you in the room. You smiled back, leaning into him as the two of your chairs scooted closer.

‘I love you’, he mouthed to you, the truth of it clear in his eyes.

‘I love you too’, you mouthed back.

Tags:

@yearninglustfully

@deepestmentalitypersona

@hqmsby

[nudijsmos]

˚ ༘ ‎ ‎﹫STALKER'S TANGO ೀ c. bangchan

summary: what would you do if you had a man spying on your most "intimate" moment? surely everything except letting him corrupt your body like a rag doll. or not, no one judges you.

or, where stalker!bangchan comes through your window while your playing with yourself and claims you.

warnings: explicit content, mentions of cnc and mask kink, knife kink, female masturbation, blowjob (male recieving), riding a knife like it’s the end of the world, sadistic bangchan, mention of blood while orgasm, reader it’s a whore for everything he does, petnames, degradation kink.

a/n: i swear i'm not so normal about him. 🙏🏼

your saturdays were certainly the most boring days of your week: no parties, no hanging out with friends, no alcohol and especially no one to spend the rest of the night with.

it was certainly a very niche wish of yours but there were times when you locked yourself into books to feel something new, even if it was fictional. the pleasure that these erotic books generated for you was too ecstatic for anyone else who will not be able to understand the reason for the great fascination with them.

especially if you use it as a method of self pleasure, mostly to reward you after a rough week.

your fingers lay between the folds of your cunt, opening their way with parsimony in a tortuous swing that left plain sight how weak you manage to put yourself to all kinds of touch, your chest uncovered just so that one of your nipples will remain on the paradise of lust that was building in your body. the wet feeling of your throbbing lips against each touch was music to your ears, coming to rub you more and more on them as if it were a sex toy; you wanted to remove all frustration in them for the most pathetic of what was seen.

the viscous sensation of your fluids invading, staining every end of your digits could get you drunk if it was scientifically possible, gently squeezing the apex of your clitoris only for the purpose of turning yourself into a bunch of moans. it's too inappropriate for an explicit scene to have put yourself like that.

your lips parting to let out another sultry moan that echoes the room, it’s actually a relieve that you have the house completely alone ‘cause if you were with your parents in the other room those slutty groans and gaps would get you grounded as fuck. even though what you are doing it’s risky, you still want to keep that tortuous pace on your vulva.

it’s difficult when you suddenly gasp louder, your fingers picking up speed. your pumping is getting sloppy and you constantly shift on the mattress like a greedy puppy, hungry for more.

your knees buckled at the near feeling of your orgasm reaching, pleading to be released when suddenly a noise distracts you.

on the side of your window, the shadow of what appears to be a person begins to become visible, a robust figure that slowly becomes more present: those eyes observed the apex of your thighs with desire, a heavy breath that fogged the glass. the only problem was that you couldn't see his entire face.

fear invaded you, a strange combination along with your denied orgasm made you beg with your eyes for two things. your liberation or that he wouldn't kill you.

tears falling from your eyes, thinking that this must be just a bad nightmare and that's it.

while on the side of the dark stranger, saying that he was enchanted from the moment he slipped through the balcony window was an understatement... almost nothing.

under curses around his plump lips he holds back the urge to pull out his erect member from his denim pants. It wasn't the first time he followed your steps, but it was the first time he saw you in such a deplorable and exciting state.

his hands gently forced the lock of the window, slowly opening it and as he went up your groaning heard sharper, making his sanity gradually disappear. the sound that comes out of your mouth was like an invitation for him to take advantage of it, as if you were doing a show just for him to see. or at least he wanted to believe that.

with the agility of a cat, broke into your room without any warning and searched his way through your body like a desperate man. the hands of that mysterious elder were placed in your mouth to make it impossible for any complaint to come out of you, bringing you even closer until those dark eyes connected again with yours almost in a plea not to stop.

"mhm.. what we have here?" she says in a flirtatious tone. his voice was deep and rough, as if his throat dried up when he saw you please her. "a dirty whore who thinks no one can see her being so fucking provocative."

your hum was vibrating against the palm of his hand, and tears were running down your rosy cheeks. you were scared - even terrified, this was too real to be just a dream of yours. his hand was so big. he hugged your face in such a way that it covered your nostrils as well, making it harder to breathe. his face was covered with shadows and a black mask hid his mouth, only one of his darkened eyes visible in the night.

your eyes roamed your room, trying to find something to use as a defense mechanism for escape. the man noticed your attempts immediately, "what are you doing, my dear? nah.. you won’t walk away from this."

his free hand was going down to the top of your underwear without too much haste since he wanted very internally to drain all your energy in what remained of the night. the thin fingers of the masked man seemed to know your body from beginning to end, outlining the folds of your intimacy as if he had memorized them, pressing his thumb against your clitoris causing a gorgeous and sharp moan to come out of your lips.

"how noisy you get to be sometimes, you’re going to blow my head if you keep this way," again the boy’s voice overwhelmed you and promptly you only deigned to nod while his nimble hand was getting rid of your underwear, the lace rubbing your thighs as it slid down your skin almost like a cut. sharp and painful.

the gloved hand of the chestnut bathed in your fluids, going up and down between your folds and listening to that characteristic sound of it. your eyes were still on that handsome man, half-closed for pleasure and your mouth just babbling overflowed prayers to the contrary.

"just look at you. you look so insultingly pathetic." he muttered between his teeth as he moved to the side of the bed, standing on the ground at the perfect height for your watery face to be millimeters - if you could say so of his crotch.

from his trousers he pulled out a red-handle leather knife, the edge of the weapon shone with the light of your room lamp. "what would you do if i used this on you? would it be right to put the edge inside you and watch you kill yourself while riding it alone or should i use the handle as a dildo?"

the edge of the knife would go in? what, that would be too much and no matter how hot you are you wouldn’t let your parents see you dead from an orgasm. "please." you sounded so pitiful, even the elder was pleased to see you in spite of not knowing what to choose. "choose m'lady, the edge or just the handle of the knife."

another breath of pain was heard through the room, without the man realizing you were already a mess; dripping your thighs and nipples slightly erect with only the sight of him waiting for some answer from you. your eyes were turned to his crotch and back to his right hand, which with agility held the knife, you did not know where to put all your attention.

"the handle, use the handle." god, he could die from just hearing you say that. his left-hand was unbuttoning his pants without lowering them at all, the same with his boxer that marked on his elastic calvin klein on his waist.

the handle of the knife was rubbing against your vulva as if it were a sex toy of those you kept somewhere in your room while suddenly the boy’s dick went inside your mouth, not giving you any choice but to pump your head and try not to choke by how it stretched your mouth cavity looked to him, seeing you as a fleshlight for his cock.

"that is bunny, take my cock just as well. almost seems like you were made for this, being such a cocksleeve for a stranger.. what a desperate thing." the voice of that man was bouncing through the walls of your ears like a forbidden melody, the handle of the knife was penetrating you causing several cries of pain to drown in the chestnut’s phallus. " there you go, take it like a good girl, you’ve grown up so much so i bet you have some kind of experience gettin' sluted out.”

the leather of the knife was moistened inside you, the rubber walls were adjusted to its size as if really your whole body was made so that he can abuse it, hurt it too - of course and hurts as hell compared to the different dildos that you had used on you.. but holy mother who could kick you out of just hearing him curse your own existence by smearing his weaponry with your slick and blood.

you have no idea how men can be saddled with a palate full of sophomoric slapstick. but a dick is a dick, and something tells you that he won’t let you go empty-handed on this one. "you're not tapping out already, are ya’? cause you looked so pretty with your mouth full of my dick.. use your tongue just a bit more and keep the fucking pace or i'll stab your stomach.” he demanded, fuck he sounded so hot saying that.

the masked man’s hand was gradually bathed in blood surrounding the material of his glove, each cut that made the girl’s movements only left him more stunned at the sight of the young woman being raped in pleasure. who would say that the facade of a sweet and well-dressed girl could be destroyed in one night by him. the assaults became much faster and deeper, the splashing of material against the intimacy of the female became more noticeable along with the obscene expressions that were ripping from her rosy face.

under the mask the man could say that he was worse than his companion; drops of sweat falling down his forehead and his meaty lips were wounded from the number of times that their canines killed them with careless bites, tearing the skin of these on purpose to feel the metallic taste of his blood rub his palate. “how does it feel having a complete stranger arranging your guts with a knife? huh?.. what i even ask you if you can even look me in the eye while you're blowing me out.”

“i fuckin' hate you.” you spat, getting his cock out of your weeping mouth. his hand began to move from the base to the tip of his member, masturbating it over your face without stopping the previous movements that were creating a burning feeling in your lower abdomen, your free hand was held from the ends of your sheets being almost impossible this time to shut up, “ you motherfu-.. oh god!!”

your legs weakened and the heat of your lower stomach was increasing more and more, reaching to raise your body from the mattress by the over stimulation that you were subjected to, something that the elder loved, dying inside to see you like this for a while.

“that's it sweet girl, keep struggling, ‘m gonna cum on your pretty face and you're gonna make a mess in my hand.. understood? show me how weak you manage to put yourself into”.

you hated to say he was in fact right but you were close to your limit, you hated with all your soul that the touch of that stranger makes you tremble with pleasure. you hated that especially warmed you to the idea that this would not be the last time he broke into your house. “s-sir.. ‘m close.. bun wants to.. please”, you couldn’t speak - not even say a single word.

that’s how the masked man let out all his seed on your face, smearing your cheeks and corners with his semen just as you burst on the handle of the knife that had made his hand a table full of cuts and drops of blood that combined with your fluids.

this couldn’’t be better, clearly not.. right?.

(...)

"bun.. bun, baby" you heard a familiar voice echoed onto your ears. "baby dol,l you fell asleep again". it was your boyfriend who spoke to you with a worried tone but with some happiness of seeing you again.

"what are you doing here? i..didn’t know you were coming." you mumbled shyly as you climbed into the sheets to check that you were still in your clothes. and so it was, but there was something else lying at the end of your bed: a knife with its blood-stained leather and in the distance the shadow of that man walking away from your window.

it certainly wouldn’t be the first or last time you would see him spying on every move you made in the distance, and that made you more than eager to be used by him again.

and only for him.

[piastrisun]

almost home.

pairings: oscar piastri + female character.

summary: for oscar, it’s racing; for grace, it’s home. but maybe, for once, they’re ready to take the same road.

genre: fluff.⠀word count: 3.2k.⠀ warning: none.

notes: i loved writing time jumps, one of my favourites to date. named female character. first oscar win this season!!!! had to post this one that’s been on my drafts for a couple of weeks. couldn’t be happier tbh.

─────⠀ melbourne, 2007.

grace remembers everything about the first time she met oscar. she had just turned six, in her first year of primary school, bouncing with that endless childhood energy as she introduced yourself, with full name and everything, although she knew that no one would ever call her that, especially him, who quickly started to call her ‘gracie’, without even noticing. she hardly noticed his reserved nature as she launched into one of her usual monologues about her latest fascination—words and images tumbling out in a way that felt like nonsense to him. but he stayed, listening, his quiet smile an anchor that she’d come to rely on without realising it. when you're so young, it's easier to be lucky enough to make a friend in the simplest way possible, but it's rare to find your soulmate before you're ten, and having them in the form of your best friend is a very different and precious thing.

grace climbed into the car, her backpack slipping off one shoulder as she turned to wave one last time. “mum!” she exclaimed, her voice full of excitement. “i made a new best friend today!”

her mum glanced at her through the rear-view mirror, smiling. “oh? what’s their name?”

“oscar! he’s really quiet, but he doesn’t mind when i talk a lot. and guess what? he called me gracie! no one calls me that.”

from where he stood at the school gate, oscar gave a small wave. grace grinned, leaning out the car window. “bye, oscar! see you tomorrow!” she called.

oscar hesitated, then raised his voice just enough for her to hear. “bye, gracie.”

her mum chuckled as they drove off. “you seem pretty sure about this friendship.”

“i am,” grace said confidently, clutching her backpack. “he’s gonna be my best friend forever. i can tell.”

─────⠀ melbourne, 2013.

at twelve, their friendship had solidified into something unshakable. grace and oscar were a fixture in each other’s lives—a quiet certainty in the chaos of growing up. they still spent most weekends together, whether at grace’s house, oscar’s, or somewhere in between. even at school, they gravitated towards each other, though they’d never admit to their classmates just how much time they really spent together.

that saturday, they’d wandered to the park, the familiar playground now a little too small for them, but they stayed anyway.

grace sat cross-legged on top of the monkey bars, her face tilted towards the cloudy sky. “you think we’ll still hang out when we’re old?”

oscar stood on the ground below, leaning against one of the bars, his hands in his hoodie pockets. “define ‘old.’”

“like… twenty,” she said dramatically. “ancient.”

he smirked, glancing up at her. “that’s not old.”

“it is! and you didn’t answer my question,” she said, squinting down at him.

he looked away, his shoulders lifting in a small shrug. “yeah. i reckon we will.”

“you reckon?” she leaned forward, nearly slipping. “what kind of answer is that? you’re supposed to say, ‘of course, gracie, you’re the best mate i’ll ever have!’”

oscar’s ears turned red, but his voice stayed quiet. “you are my best friend. i just didn’t think i had to say it out loud.”

she grinned, her playful tone softening. “good. ‘cause you’re stuck with me, oscar. forever.”

─────⠀ melbourne, 2015.

at fourteen, they were inseparable. years had passed, and oscar became her constant presence. they saw each other everyday sometimes only briefly as they passed each other between classes, but on weekends, they’d find an excuse to meet up, if neither of them had plans with family or friends they didn't had in common. that was until oscar left, his ambition pulling him to england in pursuit of a racing career. a day before he left, they sat on her porch, the silence stretched between them as heavy as the goodbye itself.

he glanced down, shuffling his feet as if the gravel could somehow ground the mess of emotions swirling inside him. “i'll text you every day,” he said, his voice wavering almost enough to betray him.

grace's smile didn’t reach her eyes, but she tried to keep it steady, the kind of smile that begged him to believe it was easy for her to say goodbye. "you better. or else i’ll think you’ve become too famous to remember someone like me.”

he let out a laugh, but it came out shaky, filled with a bittersweet edge. "never," he said, looking up at her with a softness that hurt to hold back. "gracie... you know that could never happen, right?"

she nodded slowly, her own voice almost a whisper. "i know." but she wondered if he'd ever truly understand how much she wanted him to stay.

─────⠀ east england & melbourne, 2017.

oscar had been in england for two years. grace was proud of him, of course, but when he returned for a brief holiday at sixteen, something felt different. she tried to fill him in on her life, the normalcy of it all—a sense of routine that felt both grounding and dull, especially compared to his new adventures. and as he listened, she felt a strange ache; their lives were diverging. both of them were experiencing the first sparks of teenage romance (or at least that was what they both believed, mistakenly) in different places. grace updated him on her latest crush, laughing as she told him about the awkward date that had ended in spilled soda and nervous laughter.

as she nudged him with her shoulder, her smile softened, and she felt a warmth that was almost unfamiliar. “you’re not missing much by not being here,” she teased, hoping her tone sounded as carefree as she wanted it to.

he raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “i don’t know… sounds like my kind of excitement,” he replied, letting his gaze linger on her.

she laughed, but as she did, she caught herself staring at him a moment too long, noticing the way his world now seemed broader, more vibrant than it had been. there was a sudden tug in her chest, something bittersweet, as if he’d become part of something she couldn’t quite reach, his life seemed to be unfolding in a world that felt lightyears away from hers. and it stung a little, more than she wanted to admit.

“do you ever feel like…” she hesitated, gathering the courage to ask, “we’re different now?” her not quite meeting his eyes.

oscar’s smile softened, fading just enough to reveal something unspoken beneath. “maybe. but not when i’m here. not with you,” he murmured, his voice steady. his eyes held a quiet promise, as if to assure her that no matter how different their worlds became, she would always be part of his.

─────⠀ melbourne, 2019.

at eighteen, their lives were becoming increasingly different now. oscar was back for the summer, but by now, grace was in college, her days crowded with plans and responsibilities, busy with lectures and internships. they managed to see each other only three times in four weeks, each meeting feeling like both a gift and a reminder of slipping back into the comfort of their friendship, but with an underlying tension.

“three times in four weeks, oscar. that’s a record,” she joked, though her tone held a touch of sadness, her eyes dropping to the floor before lifting to meet his.

oscar chuckled, but there was a hint of softness in his eyes. “maybe next time i’ll come back for good.”

she swallowed, masking her racing heart with a casual shrug. “yeah, right. you’d go mad staying in one place,” she teased, but her voice was barely steady.

he took a step closer, his gaze unwavering. “maybe... but i’d stay if you asked.”

grace felt a lump form in her throat, and she forced out a laugh. “don’t say things you don’t mean, oscar.” she said, looking away.

he didn’t argue, but something lingered in his gaze that she tried not to think about. but she couldn’t ignore the weight of his words, making her wonder if, just maybe, he was serious.

─────⠀ east england & tokyo, 2021.

by twenty, their calls and texts grew fewer, though they always checked in during big moments, but that was all they had. at summer, they were in different places entirely, in separate parts of the world, the distance was beginning to weigh on them both.

one night, as they facetimed, oscar sat at his desk, the soft glow of his laptop illuminating his face in the dim room. he leaned back in his chair, fingers idly tracing the edge of his glass. outside, the skyline was dark, flecked with scattered city lights against the night. he glanced back at the screen, where grace’s familiar face was framed by her bedroom's warm, golden light.

“so you think it’s weird that we still talk like this?” she asked, her voice soft, vulnerable.

oscar’s lips curved into a gentle smile. “it’s not weird. it’s… the best part of my day.” he felt the words settle between them, heavier than he’d anticipated, a weight that made his heart beat a little faster.

she felt a warmth spread across her cheeks, her thumb unconsciously brushing against her chin as she held the phone. a flicker of doubt crossed her mind—maybe he was just being nice, or maybe she was reading too much into it. “you’re not just saying that?”

oscar’s expression softened, his eyes never leaving hers. “i wouldn’t lie to you, gracie.” he paused, his gaze intent, almost as if he was waiting for her to understand what he meant, to see the feelings he kept tucked just behind the easy smiles and late-night calls.

she wanted to say something, to acknowledge the quiet hope that seemed to bloom between them, but her mind drew a blank. instead, she nodded, her lips curving in a small, knowing smile. her mind was a whirl of memories—the shared laughs, the countless facetime calls, the way he had become a part of her life so effortlessly. but the weight of her own feelings felt overwhelming, like something she hadn’t quite been ready to admit, even to herself.

clearing her throat, she forced a playful tone. “so… how’s england this summer?” she gestured at the screen, her fingers brushing a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. “as rainy as ever?”

he glanced out his window at the drizzle tapping against the glass, then back to her, his eyes softer now. "yeah, a little. but it reminds me of when you came, complaining about the rain every other day."

she laughed, rolling her eyes. “it’s because it’s miserable, and you know i’m right. london could use a bit more sun.”

his laughter melted into a quiet smile as he shook his head. “you were, but… you made it bearable.” he tilted his head, a playful gleam in his eye. “or maybe it’s just missing you.”

grace’s heart skipped, her grip on the phone tightening slightly as she felt the truth of what he’d said sink in. she wanted to brush it off, to make a joke, but her voice came out softer, more hesitant. "maybe... i miss london too. or parts of it, at least."

oscar swallowed, his gaze steady, but a hint of something vulnerable flickered in his eyes.

“gracie, if you ever wanted to come back, you know you’d have a place here.” his voice was low, carrying a sincerity that made her feel as though he was offering more than just a couch to crash on.

she bit her lip, fingers absently tracing circles on her sweater, letting his words settle in. "i’d like that," she murmured, almost to herself, her eyes meeting his through the screen. she saw him shift, his face lighting up just slightly, as if he’d been hoping she’d say those words all along.

─────⠀ florence, 2023.

now, at twenty-two, he’d invited her to holiday in italy with his family, to celebrate that he was living his dream, finally able to share real time together instead of words on a screen. the days flew by, filled with inside jokes, long conversations, and what both of them seemed to not be ready to acknowledge. there were nights where they stayed up until dawn, laughter echoing through the streets, and moments where silence spoke volumes.

grace felt the familiar bittersweet weight of another goodbye pressing down on her chest. he’s heading back to england; she’s returning to australia. the reality of it lingers in the spaces between, the weight of another goodbye.

but now, standing together at the airport, oscar felt the familiar ache of leaving her again settle in his chest. she was standing there in her jeans and that oversized sweater she always traveled in, her hair slightly messy from the rush to get to the airport. for a moment, all he could think was how beautiful she looked—not in the way you think someone looks in passing, but in a way that made something in his chest tighten painfully, like it had for years.

he shifted his backpack on his shoulder, trying to focus on anything other than the look in her eyes. “so, this is goodbye again, i guess,” he said, his voice quieter than he intended.

her voice was soft, hesitant in a way that was unlike her. “i don’t want it to be. we see each other less and less as time passes.”

he swallowed, glancing down at the scuffed tile beneath their feet. that ache in his chest grew sharper, cutting into him in a way he couldn’t quite explain. it was something he felt every time he left her, something he didn’t have the courage to name.

“i know,” he murmured, lifting his gaze back to hers. “having a friend on the other side of the world… it’s hard.”

but as he said the words, the weight of them settled in his chest. “friend.” that wasn’t what she was to him—not for years now. he couldn’t remember the exact moment it changed, but somewhere along the way, grace had stopped being just his best friend and had become… everything.

his gaze holds hers, a quiet intensity in his eyes. she nods, heart pounding a little faster. “you’ve always been more than a friend to me,” she admits, with the feel of grabbing her heart in her hands.

oscar froze, the words hitting him like a gust of wind. for a second, he couldn’t speak, his mind racing to process what she’d just said. she was standing there, looking at him with those wide, honest eyes, and he felt as though the ground beneath him had shifted.

“i didn’t know you felt that way,” he managed to say, his voice barely audible. his calm demeanour faltered, and he rubbed the back of his neck—a nervous habit he thought he’d outgrown. his brows knit together in a way she hadn’t seen before—an openness, a vulnerability slipping through the cracks of his normally composed face. for once, it was as if she was seeing past the careful restraint he’d always kept around his heart.

she tried to smile, though her throat tightened. “i didn’t know either. not until you kept leaving, and it felt… wrong, like you were taking a part of me with you every time.”

her words made something inside him crack, the careful walls he’d built to keep his feelings in check. he’d spent years convincing himself that what he felt for her wasn’t something he could act on. she deserved someone who didn’t live halfway across the world, someone who didn’t spend half his life chasing dreams on a racetrack. but now, hearing her say those words, all of those excuses felt flimsy and hollow.

he reached for her hand, his fingers brushing hers in a tentative, almost shy motion. when their hands finally met, he felt the steady thrum of her pulse against his own, grounding him in a way nothing else ever had.

there’s a pause, and something shifts in his expression—surprise, maybe even a hint of regret. “why are you telling me this now?” he asks, voice low, almost aching. “just when i’m leaving?”

she takes a steadying breath, feeling the words pour out despite the hesitation in her chest. “maybe because if i told you, you’d have a reason to come back home.”

there she was, the girl he’d grown up with, the one who’d been his anchor through everything. and she was looking at him with a kind of openness he wasn’t sure he deserved, but he couldn’t deny how much he wanted it—how much he wanted her.

he stepped closer, his grip on her hand tightening as he made a decision in that moment, a decision he’d spent years avoiding. “and if i come back for you?” he asked, his voice steady now, resolve bleeding into every word.

“then don’t let this be goodbye,” she whispered.

the air between them shifted, heavy with everything they hadn’t said before. for the first time, oscar let himself feel the full weight of what she meant to him—the years of laughter, arguments, shared secrets, and quiet moments that had shaped him. she wasn’t just his best friend; she was the person who made him feel like he could be more than the sum of his ambitions.

he nodded, his jaw set with the weight of a promise. “i won’t. not this time.”

the grip on her hand was firm now, as if he were afraid to let go, afraid that she’d slip through his fingers again. for his whole life, he had been the calm one, the one who kept his feet on the ground while she dreamed with abandon. but here he was, saying the words she’d longed to hear, and his usually controlled voice held an edge, a tremor that hinted at just how much he meant it.

“the moment you graduate,” he said, voice low and steady, yet laced with a quiet urgency, “i’m taking you to england with me.”

she stared at him, breath caught in her throat as the weight of his words settled. he wasn’t just making a promise—he was laying out a future, one he wanted her to be a part of. the thought of leaving behind everything she’d known, crossing oceans to build something new with him, sent a rush of excitement through her. but there was also a hint of fear, the uncertainty of stepping into a life so different from her own.

his hand moved to her cheek, his thumb brushing her skin in a tender, grounding motion. he felt the hesitation in her breath, saw the uncertainty flicker in her eyes, and he leaned closer, his voice soft but certain. “you’ve been a part of my life since we were kids. i don’t want to keep leaving you behind.”

she let out a shaky breath, her fingers curling around his. “oscar, that sounds… it sounds like everything. but are you sure? your life, your career—everything’s already there. i don’t want to be just some… addition.”

he shook his head, a rare intensity sparking in his eyes. “you’re not ‘just’ anything to me. you never have been.” his words hung heavy, filling the small space between them with a certainty that felt grounding, like a promise he’d spent years building silently within himself. “you’re everything.”

for a long moment, grace stood there, surrounded by the noise and rush of travellers coming and going. but it felt as if the rest of the world had faded away, leaving only the two of them and the quiet realisation of what they’d been holding back for so many years.

she leaned into his touch, smiling softly. “then the moment i’m done,” she whispered, “i’m yours.”

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 25’.

[scribbledghost]

Do you think… inhuman Vess would ever fuck the reader in front of the other vessels…?

I think Vessel absolutely would fuck you in front of the others, and in fact I can see it becoming a bit of a precursor to PolyVessels territory, if I'm honest.

See, the mental connection isn't just between you and Vessel - it's between everyone in the manor. So it's not like the others aren't aware of what's been going on. (Especially with the copious amount of glass that Vessel keeps breaking during his orgasms at first lmao). Vessel tries his damnedest to keep it just between the two of you, but he often gets so drunk on you he can't help but let down those mental barriers. It's something Vessel discussed with you before you had ever slept together, and he told you that them sort of... "overhearing" would be a possibility.

So, they know already. And none of them can deny they want you both, too. It's a rather open secret, really.

When the two of you decide to invite one (or more) of the others in, it's under one stipulation at first: they can't touch. Just watch. How they react in that scenario will affect how Vessel and you proceed further later.

It's sort of a process, really. You want each of them to see individually before all of them being present.

II is first, and he patiently sits by as Vessel takes you. He doesn't even ask to touch you, he only asks to touch himself. Though, despite the physical distance, he allows himself to take advantage of your connection. He tells you how good you both look, how pretty the sounds you make are. As you're coming down from one of your orgasms, you even hear II's thought of "Ves, you lucky bastard".

III is next, and he's much more animated. He refrains from begging to touch you, kiss you, feel you, but you can tell in his head he desperately wants to. His thoughts betray him here, telling you how badly he wants you. But he doesn't speak. Instead, he simply whines and groans along with you, stroking himself to multiple orgasms as Vessel bends you over the side of the bed.

IV is last, and is the only one to verbalize what he's thinking. He doesn't ask to touch, but he tells you he wishes he could. He knows he can't, he knows you told him he could only watch. But goddamn what he wouldn't give to have his hands on you. He tells you that you look perfect seated on Vessel's face, and when he notices you about to come for the third time, he gives a soft "gonna give us another one, sweet girl?"

All of them together are sort of a grab bag, really. They play off of each other, feed off of each other's desires. II may be more vocal, while III may be more subdued. It's sort of fascinating to see how they all sort of even out when they're all present. However, that doesn't stop them from openly fantasizing about (and mentally projecting to you) which positions they'd have you in so everyone gets a proper turn. They're very creative.

[mochiimadness]

Hey! could you do 2012 tmnt how they would react if s/o is a dancer? Sorry for bothering have a good day/night!

Fearless Leader

He is so quiet when watching you dance

You’re not sure what he’s thinking exactly,

Kinda unnerves you at first

So, in the middle of a particularly tricky move, you look over to see him watching you and just ask

“Do you not like dancing or something?”

You’ve never seen him panic so fast

He’s immediately animated, frantically waving his hands in front of him

“No, no, no-! It’s not that, I was just- you’re just- your dancing is so impressive!”

Leo didn’t even realize he had been staring so hard

After years of training and fighting, he sort of just- analyzes movements, studying them.

(Which actually made him decent at dancing but he doesn’t do it often)

He’s absolutely impressed by your dance moves, he got too busy caught up in analyzing, and appreciating how you make each flow, to realize he might’ve been coming off as judgmental

After explaining, you offer to teach him a thing or two

Are there stars in his eyes??? He’s already standing next to you ready to go

Loves to learn moves from you!

Makes the cutest concentrating face- especially on harder moves

(He sticks his tongue out a little, don’t tell him though because he’ll stop!)

You two could spend hours in the dojo just practicing dance moves.

He’ll bring refreshments and snacks!

Offers to teach you ninjitsu or meditate in return <3

Mean Green Fighting Machine

Raph can definitely bust a move

He can also vogue- I don’t make the rules, he just can.

Enjoys watching you dance!

He’ll even challenge you to a dance battle

Doesn’t matter what style of dance you choose,

He’ll do his own thing while throwing in a few moves he’d seen you do.

You find out how well he actually pays attention to your practicing during these dance offs.

Raph is actually decent at mimicking moves he sees others do

Surprisingly good at ballet

And of course,

✨Hip hop✨

Loves having these friendly competitions with you.

…even if he sometimes gets butthurt at losing

Just pull him into a silly little dance and all will be well

No fancy moves, just enjoying the music

“Aw c’mon Raph, you did great!”

“Hmph, still lost >:/“

“C’mere and dance with me already!”

“Alright alright I’m coming!”

Never actually gets angry about losing

Will pout a little though

Loves to see you grin about it <3

Is so incredibly supportive and proud of his s/o!

Donnie-pedia

Donnie dances like a dork /pos

He can either do the robot or some really awkward dance movements

It doesn’t bother him much-

Or at least it didn’t until he met you

Donnie loves watching you dance

You make it look so easy!

Gets a nervous if you ask him to dance-

Literally spends hours watching tutorials trying to learn how to dance better

He wants to be able to dance with you properly!!

Absolutely swoons if you offer to teach him

He picks up a few moves but still is pretty awkward overall

Once you tell him that you don’t mind,

He adores to dance with you

He genuinely enjoys just watching you dance too!

Finds it ✨fascinating✨

Gets you a good bag to store your dance stuff in- like your shoes and clothes

Decorates it with little dance charms and pins

And a purple turtle ofc

He also builds you a small music box with your favorite music!

That way you can listen and dance to it whenever!

"I uh made you this portable music box with your favorite tunes! You can listen to it wherever, whenever- if you want too of course. If not it's totally fine and-"

"Woah! This is great, D, thanks!!"

"Really?? :D"

You can practically see his tail wagging (it is actually)

Dr. Prankenstein

One word-

✨Hyped✨

Is your number one hype turtle

Always excited to see you dance!

Especially if you do any hip-hop/break dancing

If you do, he 100% joins in

Mikey is an awesome break dancer!

You'll always have a good time dancing with him.

If you don't do any hip-hop/break dancing-

He still loves to watch and join in when he can

Very good at following the flow of the beat

Can dabble in pretty much any dance style,

He's the fastest at being able to pick up on new styles/moves

After a few moments of watching you,

He's able to replicate the move you're doing!

Ofc it's not perfect (most of the time anyway)

But it's still pretty impressive.

Loves to just dance with you.

If you preform you better believe he finds a way to watch

Doesn't matter if the place is crowded and it's in the middle of the day,

Mikey always finds a way to come out and support you

(you may or may not have nearly screamed after seeing him pop out of the ceiling rafters but shhh)

If you ever need someone to give you feedback too,

Mikey's your turtle!

"S/o!! I saw your dance today, it was awesome!"

"How did you even-?"

"Oh, I found a crawl space under the floor and propped it open a bit, no biggie :D"

":O"

This, and many others, have been sitting in my ask box for over a year now.

I hope you enjoyed it, I apologize for the wait. Have a good day/night!

[kirkwhore]

School Sucks: Billy Hargrove x Reader

(not sure if this will be a oneshot or just the first chapter in a series yet)

Summer school is a pain in the ass, but you really need those credits to graduate... and you'd do anything to pass.

18+ ONLY

NO MINORS ALLOWED, GET OUTTA HERE

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Word count: 2.5k

CW: teacher/student, teacher!billy, brat!reader, power imbalance, facefucking, billy is MEAN and doesn't give a fuck about your pleasure, very slight use of y/n

You’re not sure why you’re stuck in this stupid place – all you did was fail English. 

What's the big deal? I speak it just fine, you think with a roll of your eyes as you set down your things. You slide into the desk furthest from the blackboard and look at the clock. Class should’ve started by now. Your fellow delinquents and flunkees notice, too. 

“Hey, is it true that we get to leave if the teacher is fifteen minutes late?” Tommy asks. “Like, I think we’re legally allowed to.”  

Right as the words leave his mouth, the door swings open. “Try it and I’ll kick your ass, kid,” he says. He’s tall, tan, and gorgeous. You sit up straighter in your chair. 

Wait… is that Billy Hargrove? You haven’t seen him in two years, and it doesn’t seem like anything has changed; he’s still that cocky asshole you pined for when you were sixteen. “I guess they let just anyone teach here now, huh?” you quip before you can stop yourself. Billy’s head snaps in your direction. 

“You got something smart to say?” His eyes are blazing, and his hand clenches into a fist. 

God, and he’s just as volatile as ever, too. You know it would be prudent to shut the fuck up, but it’s like your mouth is bypassing your brain. 

“Yeah, but you probably wouldn’t understand it.” You smirk when you see his jaw tick. Everyone turns to look at you like you’re a fascinating and very stupid zoo animal. Your friend, Christy, hisses at you to cool it. 

“One more smartass remark from you and you’re writing lines,” Billy growls. Your mouth stays closed just long enough for him to let his guard down. He strides over to his desk and sits, kicking his feet up like he owns the place. 

“Yes sir,” you purr. You get a few snickers for that. You all went to school with him; he’s not nearly old enough for that honorific. There could only be one purpose for saying it...especially like that.

“That’s it, (y/n). Up. Get up.” 

“Oh, come on, I’m just being respectful, sir.” You pout at him and he narrows his eyes. You know exactly what you’re doing to him. The look he gives you says this isn’t up for debate, though. Pushing his buttons is fun, but you need these credits to graduate; you stand up and reveal a skirt so short it’s borderline illegal. When you see him shift in his seat, you smile and flounce to the front of the room. “Um, what am I supposed to write?” You almost let that honorific slip again but you think better of it. It’s his turn to smirk.

“Write ‘I will not be a mouthy little slut’ fifty times.” Suddenly, the atmosphere is tense in a way that makes your classmates squirm. No one wants to look at you now. Or him. 

“What? There’s no way that’s allowed–” you try to protest, but he cuts you off.

“You think anyone gives a fuck what I make you do? If they cared about actually teaching you something, they wouldn’t put me in charge.” His smile is infuriating. He laces his hands behind his head because he knows he’s right; there’s nothing you can do but start writing. The rest of the class is quiet now because they’re waiting for him to tell them what to do. 

“Read a chapter or something,” he drawls. “I don’t give a shit; just don’t bother me.” 

By the time you get home your wrist really hurts. You feel humiliated and angry… but your thighs are sticky with arousal. In truth, every line you wrote made you wetter. When Billy looked at you like that and so casually punished you in front of everyone, it felt like you’d been struck by lightning. It was white hot and set your limbs to tingling. 

You lay in bed that night brainstorming ways to piss him off just enough to recreate that feeling. 

The air conditioning at Hawkins High has always been abysmal, but today it has completely broken down. The classroom is sweltering, even with the windows open. Billy is in a terrible mood from the start. It doesn’t help that he looks hungover. 

“Read your fuckin’ books and leave me alone,” he grumbles. He stalks toward the desk again and falters when he sees you’ve taken the seat right next to it, facing away from him. He doesn’t comment, but you can tell that pisses him off, too. He knows you’ve got something up your sleeve; he just doesn’t know what. 

You open your book slowly, holding it up directly in front of your face. No one else sees what he can. You’ve taped a Playboy centerfold to the pages just to provoke him – a busty redhead with nothing on but a pair of sunglasses, laying on a towel at the beach. You feel the anger and frustration radiating off of him before he says a damn word. 

You hear the squeak of the wheels of his office chair as he leans toward you. His voice in your ear is rough, deep. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” It’s a rhetorical question; you know you’re supposed to simply turn the page or put the book down. Anything other than what you actually do. 

“You don't like it, sir?” you stage whisper. Heads turn toward you again; they can’t believe you’re this brave – or this dumb. “I didn’t take you for that kind of guy. I’ll cut something out of Playgirl next time instead, Mr. Hargrove.” He knows what you’re implying and he doesn’t like it. 

“Get out of my goddamn classroom.” It’s not a request. You roll your eyes and stand up again, bending low to pick up your backpack. Billy can’t help but stare at your ass. After one tense, electrifying moment, he licks his lips and looks away. He must really need this job; it's the most restraint you've ever witnessed from him. 

You get your car keys from your purse and he stops you right as you’re crossing the threshold into the hallway. 

“I didn’t say you could go home, did I?” You spin on your heel. 

“Well then where the hell am I supposed to go?” You’re standing there in that tiny denim skirt and cropped shirt, giving him a pouty innocent look that’s designed to drive him crazy. His eyes darken and your breath catches in your throat. 

“Classroom 302, down the hall. You’re gonna write lines again; same thing as last time, but you’ll do a hundred. Then you’ll read your chapter out loud to yourself, since you like to hear your own damn voice so much.” You turn again and he stops you once more. “I’ll be in there to check your work, so don’t fuck around.” Your thighs clench before you can take another step. 

“Yes, sir.” You just can’t help it, can’t leave well enough alone. 

“Go before I think of something worse,” he warns.

You’re on your sixtieth “I will not be a mouthy little slut” when you hear the classroom door click shut behind you. You shiver, but you don’t stop – not even when you hear the lock slide into place. 

He just watches you for a while. The only sounds are the low buzz of the lights overhead and the scratching of chalk against the blackboard. On line eighty, he finally speaks. 

“You think you’re real cute, huh?” When you don’t answer, he scoffs. “What – nothing to say now? I’m almost disappointed.” You continue on with your silent defiance until you hear him shift, his boots striding heavy across the floor. Before you have time to turn around fully, his hand is in your hair, yanking your head back. You whimper and he grins down at you. 

“I ought to fail you for being such a tease,” he says. “I could. No one would give a fuck except for you and your parents when you have to repeat senior year. I could make your life a living hell. You want that?” 

You start to shake your head, but he holds it in place with another tug of your hair. 

“Nah, baby, go ahead and use that title you love so much for me.” You clench your jaw so hard you hear it crack, but you release before he decides to make it really hurt. 

“No, sir.” 

“That’s what I fucking thought.” Billy releases your hair fast enough to make you stumble; he laughs. “No, you don’t want to fail. I think you want to be a good girl, don’t you?” He uses a mockingly sympathetic tone that makes you blush. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Yeah… but your smart mouth just flies open before you can stop it, am I right?” He towers over you, stepping closer now. 

You nod, casting your eyes down. “Yes, sir.” 

“Seems to me,” he says, tipping your chin up with two thick fingers, “that you need some help shutting up before you get yourself into real trouble, sweetheart.” Your breath catches in your throat. “I know one way I can help. Wanna hear it?” You glance down again and your eyes land on the outline of his dick straining against his jeans. It makes your stomach flip. “Well?” he says impatiently. “Speak up.” 

“Y-yes, sir,” you reply in a small voice. 

“Good.” He leans in and speaks low in your ear again, making you shiver. “I think… your mouth can’t get you in trouble if it’s stuffed full of cock.” You gasp and your legs tremble. For once, you really don’t have anything to say. 

“Genius, isn’t it?” he murmurs. “Simple and effective. And it counts as extra credit, which if I recall correctly… you desperately need.” You try to look down again and he grabs your jaw between his fingers. “I can’t fucking hear you.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“That’s what I thought.” You hear the unmistakable clink of his belt buckle opening, followed by the zip of his fly. “Get on your knees and open that pretty mouth for me.” You slowly lower yourself to the ground in front of him, your heart frantically beating against your ribcage. 

Is this really fucking happening? 

Billy frees himself from his boxers and your eyes go wide. You’d heard stories, but nothing could’ve prepared you for how huge it is. You’re even more nervous than you were a minute ago; you’re not new to oral, but you’ve never taken anything this big. As if reading your mind, he smirks down at you, smug and proud.

“Ten inches, five around. Hope your gag reflex is under control, gorgeous; you’re taking it all, or you’re getting an Incomplete for the day.” You don’t dare close your mouth while he taunts you, and you’re drooling, saliva trailing from your lip to your breasts. 

“Fuck, that’s a good start,” he groans. “Open wider.” 

You obey and he pushes his hips forward. Just when the tip touches your lips, he turns and smacks your cheek with it. You blink, startled; no one’s ever done something so degrading to you before. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he taunts, tapping it against your face again. 

“You… hit me with it,” you murmur, your cheeks flushing pink. 

“Yeah? How did it make you feel?” He tilts his head like he genuinely wants your answer.

“Um… how do you think I fe–” He waits until your mouth is open again and shoves it in. You choke and cry out. 

“Don’t fucking care.” 

You should’ve known better; nothing with Billy was ever what it seemed. His unpredictability and wild streak were what attracted you in the first place when you were just a sophomore and he was the cool senior. You scramble to get yourself under control, bracing your hands against his thighs while you try to breathe through your nose.

“Fuck, that’s so much better,” he grunts. “Finally, some goddamn peace and quiet.” He thrusts in deeper. You gag and he moans again. “Oh, fuuuck yeah. Take it all, I know you can.” To your relief, he pulls back, but he barely gives you a second to breathe before tangling his hand in your hair and pushing you forward onto it again. You gag harder, and you’re grateful you didn’t eat today. 

Billy moves you faster along his length now, fucking your throat. You can feel it twitch inside with every thrust. Embarrassing little noises burst out of you against your will, and tears form at the corners of your eyes. All the while, he never shuts up. 

“My turn to – mm, fuck – talk now, baby,” he pants. “Gotta warn you: if you cry, it only makes me harder.” You can’t help it, and he knows that. When the tears do spill over, he grunts in satisfaction and holds your head still while he pistons his hips against your mouth. Your fingernails sink into the denim and you gag and choke and whimper. “Too much?” He looks down at your face. “Yeah?” He fake pouts and laughs. “Fuck yeah, it is, and you’re taking it like a champ.” Despite yourself, his praise makes you moan. 

“Oh, she fuckin’ likes that,” he says through gritted teeth. He’s practically humping your face and you struggle to breathe. “Such a good, quiet, filthy little whore for me. So ambitious.” You whine and your fingers slide down to touch yourself. He stops moving, his cock still as deep as it can go. You gag and swallow around it. 

“Did I – fuck, sweetheart, try not to do that when I’m saying something important, yeah? – did I say you could play with your pussy?” 

“Nn-nn,” is the only sound you can get out. 

“Damn right. Put your hands behind your back or everything you’ve done is gonna be for nothing.” You don’t need to be told twice. You clasp your arms behind you and he resumes with no warning, no warm-up. 

You’re sobbing with strings of saliva dripping down your chin and mascara running in rivulets down your face. You don’t know how long it’s been, but no matter how much you hollow your cheeks or moan or swallow, he doesn’t say he’s getting any closer. No, he’s just grunting and growling and hissing through his teeth. 

“Goddamn, baby,” he grits out. “Gonna keep you in here all summer.” The thought of him using you like this everyday has your cunt clenching around nothing. You feel your core tighten and you shake. You gasp around him when your orgasm hits and his rhythm falters. “Did you just — did you just cum from being used like a fucking fleshlight?" he asks, incredulous.

That’s what finally tips him over the edge. 

When he lets go, he doesn’t give you the option to spit or swallow – he just spills into you, hot and salty and so much. 

Billy pulls out and leans back against a desk, catching his breath right alongside you. 

“Definitely getting an A. Keep up the good work, baby.”