#I’m too embarrassed to tag this correctly

[timaeusterrored]

My comfort characters in a room together:

Johnny Silverhand: …Why are there literal teenagers in here?

Kerry Eurodyne: idfk J-

Joseph Kavinsky: You do know we can hear you right?

Aaron Minyard: also I’m 20. Not a teenager.

Gale of Waterdeep: WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?

Blake Skovron: *convinced he’s really high*

[spiderbeam]

FC43: SPANISH LOVE AFFAIR

pairing: spanish!reader x franco colapinto

summary: you’re really proud of your boyfriend’s debut into formula one… but some new fans of his don’t seem to understand your shared sense of humor

a/n: the spanish in this may sound a little stilted to spanish-speakers because i tried to make it so it would translate correctly for any non-spanish speakers <3

liked by francolapinto, williamsracing, and 64,401 others

yourusername he’s a ten (and an f1 driver) but he’s a boca juniors fan

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user1 is this how you celebrate your boyfriend debuting as an f1 driver 😭😭 i thought we were over this

francolapinto ES UN VEINTE ENTONCES AMOR

yourusername LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER

user2 of course the biggest boca fan in the world of motorsport would have a girlfriend that is a fan of real madrid 🤠

user14 peak enemies to lovers 🙂‍↕️ mhm

user3 NOOO FRANCO SALÍ DE AHÍ

user4 okay but they’ve been dating for a while… what are the odds y/n turns franco into a real madrid fan 👀

user5 CERO

user6 vos te caiste de chico o qué

user7 are you out of your mind

user8 close enough welcome back romeo and juliet

user9 break up with him 😍 boys are temporary anyway real madrid is forever

fernandoalo_oficial great to meet another spaniard on the paddock 👏👏

yourusername @/francolapinto HE’S TALKING ABOUT ME OH MY GOD

yourusername hola fernando alonso 😃😁

yourusername @/francolapinto (he’s in my comment section oh my god???? madre mía que me caigo)

user10 why are we only focusing on the caption??? have you guys even seen the pictures she posted of him 🥹

user11 i think i love them your honor

user12 🫶🫶

user13 someone tag her in that one video of franco shouting “dale boca” from a stage in front of a crowd in monza

francolapinto she’s seen it

yourusername ✋ i don’t care for it

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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 723,101 others

francolapinto she’s a ten but she said she would break up with you if carlos sainz gave her a chance (and she’s a real madrid fan 😬)

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yourusername STOP HE FOLLOWS YOU DON’T SAY THAT

francolapinto i thought you said you would stand by it 😨

yourusername NOT WHEN HE COULD SEE THIS

yourusername BORRA ESTO FRANCO

yourusername FRANCO @/francolapinto

user14 this is just an excuse to make us all feel single

user15 franco really saw what twitter had going on and said not in my house

user16 SCREAMING

user17 honestly i get it because if carlos sainz gave me a chance i too would drop everything

user18 oh i love them i fear

user19 THAT LAST PIC??? FRANCO WHY ARE YOU BOTH SHIRTLESS

yourusername i think you know

francolapinto :)

user19 FRANCO

user20 they’re unhinged

user21 crazy that y/n is an f1 wag now….. they grow up so fast 🥹

user22 my favorites <3

user23 i mean isn’t carlos a real madrid fan as well?

user24 🫶🫶🫶

carlossainz55 oh?

francolapinto EHH NO PARÁ

francolapinto SHE’S HAPPILY TAKEN SORRY

yourusername @/carlossainz55 hola 😊

francolapinto NO

a/n: pls reblog/comment if you enjoyed!!!!! i actually really liked making this one :) shoutout to the anon that requested it, your mind is huge

translations:

i. ES UN VEINTE ENTONCES AMOR — THEN HE’S A TWENTY LOVE

ii. NOO FRANCO SALÍ DE AHÍ — NOO FRANCO GET OUT OF THERE

iii. vos te caiste de chico o qué — did you fall as a child or what

iv. madre mía que me caigo — oh my god i’m falling

v. “it’s embarrassing” cerrá el orto — “it’s embarrassing” shut the fuck up

vi. madre mía — oh my god

vii. BORRA ESTO FRANCO — FRANCO DELETE THIS

viii. EHH NO PARÁ — HEY NO STOP

[nezuscribe]

𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you have everything you could have asked for in life. a beautiful home in greenwhich, just far away from london so that you don't have to mingle with city life, but close enough to be surrounded by the ton. a library with all the books you could ask for and a friend you care for dearly. all except for the man of your dreams, who just so happens to be your best friends brother. worst of all, he only sees you as such. his sisters best friend. (bridgerton!au)

warnings: 18+ mdni, gojo doesn't know how to communicate his feelings, slight angst (with comfort), smut, eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, (happy ending)

word count: 17.3k+ (i have no idea how)

note: yes, this is inspired by penelope and colin. yes, i know that colin isn't a viscount. their story is coming out later than expected so i took matters into my own hands. tysm @jadeisthirsting for beta reading! (if you saw this the first time no you didn't, i hope tumblr doesn't glitch out again)

jjk masterlist

You had a great life, as far as it went. 

You were born into a wealthy family, far more wealthy than they deserved to be. You had maids at your beck and call and did not need to worry about the future as long as you acted correctly. You had book upon books, as many as you could dream of, so long as you didn’t bore your mother too much with them. You had any sort of food you could dream of and you had the most caring friend in the world who loved you very much. 

Honestly, what more could a woman ask for?

“I say we move the whole ordeal to Friday, seeing how Satoru is only arriving on Wednesday. But my mother insisted that we keep in on Thursday because the rest of London just couldn’t wait to see my dashing brother…” Lily continued her furious rant as she paced back and forth the vast expanse of your family’s drawing room, shaking her head in clear frustration. 

“And you want it to be a day later…because…?” You sipped quietly on your tea, trying to keep your smile at a minimum. It was hard not to get giggly when Lily’s face got red and her eyes bugged out of her sockets. For such a pretty girl it tended to shift her features whenever she got angry or annoyed. 

“Well, he’s going to be tired!” She stopped her pacing as she stared at you with her mouth a bit open as if it were the most obvious answer, “And whenever Satoru is tired he’s so difficult to deal with. He’s going to want to talk about his travels for at least three days before he’s ready to mingle with the rest of the works!” 

You nodded heavily, showing her that you were completely on her side. 

“Has he written to you?” She asked and then quickly shook her head, despite the fact you were going to answer with a quiet yes to her question. He had written you a few letters, all of them stashed in your vanity as you read over them, each going over his travels, sometimes sending you little knick-knacks he saw. 

“Not the point. What I’m trying to say is that my mother always goes over the limit with how much she welcomes her children. And Satoru for that matter! Christ, he’s twenty-five and unmarried!” 

You wanted to sink into your seat in embarrassment. You were only so much younger and had never had even an interaction with a suitor before. 

Life was great, for the most part. 

As much as you couldn’t complain, there was a small matter at hand that was growing increasingly more alarming the more the years went on. 

For as long as you could remember, you and Lily were set on never getting married. Ever since she read that one Jane Austen book she was hellbent on independence and no men. You tagged along, seeing how that was a better excuse than admitting no man had even asked you to join him to be his partner to dance before.

Lily didn’t seem to care much for this. While she was set on her celibacy pact, she had been approached before. It doesn’t change much, but it did at least show her that somebody wants her. You were either such as a spinster or married to some ancient man your mother had to dig out from some corner of the market. 

“And Satoru…” Lily rambled on, but all it did was remind you of an even worse fact. 

You were terribly in love with her brother. 

You have known the Gojo family for ten years, five months, twelve days, and two hours, and you have been in love with Gojo Satoru for ten years, five months, twelve days, and thirty minutes. 

Their family had immigrated from Japan months before the oldest child was born, but they had only moved to Greenwich ten years, five months, and ten days ago. You met them only two days later when you accidentally wandered into their gardens, unknowing that a family had just moved in. 

The first time you met that particular Gojo, you were thirteen and facing serious issues with yourself and your own family. You wanted to move to America in hopes that the boys over there would fancy you more and your mother forbade it. Satoru laughed when he saw your horrified face popping up from their blackberry bush, definitely not expecting to see anybody there. 

“Hello there,” the stranger called out. You thought he was a grandfather with the way his hair was artic white, but he only seemed to be a bit older than you the closer he got. 

“I’m not stealing from you I swear!” You cried out as you let the blackberries tumble out of your stained hands. You cannot be taken to prison, you simply wouldn’t survive. 

“I can see that.” He crossed his arms as he tried not to laugh at the way your dress was stained a dark blue color. 

He introduced himself, and Lily, and soon, you and the girl were attached at the hip. 

It didn’t help that as kind and as charming as he was, he only saw you as his sister's closest friend. It also didn’t help that every other woman in high society seemed to be in love with the man and it certainly made it so much more horrific that he seemed to have his eyes on everybody else but you. 

He, much like his sister, was averse to the idea of marriage, but for a completely different reason. 

He seemed to despise the idea of being committed, which is most likely why he had been traveling the entirety of Europe and Asia for the past year or so. Despite his mother’s frantic worrying about setting him up with a respectable lady, he pushed them all aside and fled (in some sense) and will be making his grand appearance a couple of days from now. Everybody is chattering with excitement. You’re trying not to fill with total impending dread. 

It had already taken everything you had to pretend that he didn’t exist and that he had simply disappeared, and you knew your wretched mind would fall for him just as quickly as it did the first time around when you were set to see him next week. 

“...and, are you even listening?” Lily asked, her voice garbling back to life as you snapped your eyes back to hers, covering your mouth with your teacup as you insistently nodded, trying to keep your smile from faltering as she squinted her eyes to look you over and see what was wrong.

“I’m totally in tune with you Lils,” you insisted, nibbling on a cookie to help you with nausea which only seemed to make it worse. 

“Hm,” she grunted, not seeming to believe you but not truly caring as she continued, “And thank the heavens you’ll be there beside me, for who knows what would become of me in such an unruly crowd of men and women just waiting for my brother to make his entrance. I’d lose my sanity.” 

Yes, you thought, how lucky. If only love worked that way, of ignoring it until it faded. If only.

“I’ll be there.” You promised. 

For better or for worse, you’d be there. 

---

The ball was just as you had imagined it. 

Extravagant, elegant, large, and incredibly crowded. 

One of the perks of being an outsider in these sorts of scenes is you didn’t have to dance anymore (no matter how much it stung the first time around getting used to this fact). 

Lily was off somewhere, being forced to socialize. Your other sisters were also lost in the crowd, either dancing or being swooned by a potential match. 

You were yet to see the man of the hour, but then again, so was everybody else. He was either hiding away or being swallowed whole by the hoards of people eager to get a glimpse of him. 

Not that you wanted to see him, of course. Just curious. 

The food was, as always, a bonus. Nobody was going to judge you for scarfing anything down when you had begrudgingly sworn off marriage, and perhaps one of the good things about Lily's pact was that you didn’t care much about the public eye anymore. 

“Please, at least act like we’re not starving you.” Your mother pleaded, unfortunately, stuck to your side for the night as she eyes you and your plate. 

“I’m trying my best,” you reasoned, making sure you didn’t drop anything on your dress. 

“The Viscount is coming tonight,” she tried to think and you snorted, earning some distasteful looks from the widows around you. 

“And he’s just dying to see me, I suppose?” You rolled your eyes at the idea, to help the sting from your own words. It was better to be rationable than to be delusional. 

“Well it doesn’t hurt to-”

“Try?” You cut her off with another laugh as you chew on an eclair, “Might as well. Right after the Princess introduces herself I’ll go up.” The two of you eye the girl in the diamond-encrusted gown with an equally bright tiara on her head. Your mother gave up the argument. 

For the last couple of days, you have been at a mental war with yourself. On the one hand, it surely must mean something if he wrote you letters. On the other one, he wrote it to his entire family and he probably views you as such. No matter how much you want to pretend that the Gojo cares for you, it won’t be in the same way that measures how much you care for him. 

“I’m going to get some more of these macaroons, I’ll be right back.” You excuse yourself as your mother pressed her lips into a thin line, wanting to push you to dance but knowing no amount of persuading was going to change your mind when it was already set on something. 

Wading through the dense crowd was certainly a feat, but you did it nonetheless. From the dessert table, you could barely make out the pop of chartreuse that was Lily's gown, and you wondered how much longer until she’d be free to giggle and gossip with you. 

Your eyes scanned over the little sweets carefully as you mentally weighed which one would taste good and which one would be a surprise in the kindest sense of the word. The colorful ones were often pretty but they tested either too bland or too bitter and the ones with caramel side sugar tended to be too sweet. All the good macaroons with the pistachio filling were gone, which was odd because you could only count on your fingers how many people aside from you tended to favor that one. 

“Looking for something?”

A green macaron was held in front of your face, slowly forcing you to turn your head in its direction as it began to pull away from you

Him. 

“Oh!” 

Oh? If only you could hit yourself in the head that would be great. 

“Oh?” Gojo chuckled, his brows pinching together in slight confusion at your reaction as his lips threatened to pull into a teasing smile, “I haven’t seen you in a year and that's what you’ve got to say?”

You try not to let your heart flutter at his cheeky manner as you roll your eyes, your smile growing as you take him in. 

He’s gotten taller if that was even possible. His hair is still as white as it was, and it seems that no amount of sun was going to change that. He’s gotten a little bit tanner, no longer that frigid pale hue to his skin that made you worry he’d drop dead at any moment. He’s unfortunately more muscular, which just means you have to cast away the scrawny image you’ve made in your mind in hopes that he’d come back anemic. 

His eyes are just as captivating as ever, blue and inviting. His jaw is sharper and yet he has no facial hair on his face. Which you prefer on most men but you’re glad he’s never given into that trend. 

Most importantly, he still looks like that boy you fell in love with so many years ago, and no time away would ever change you at your core. 

You try to not let your neck prickle with heat as he seems to assess you the same way you're doing to him, try not to feel self-conscious as his eyes roam over your features. Sure, a person can change in a year, but you wouldn’t bet you’ve changed that much that would warrant this amount of staring.

“So…?” 

“‘Toru, hi!” You snap out of your state, watching as his face picks up and breaks into a grin as you set your plate down somewhere, seemingly now realizing that Satoru is here and in front of you, “My, you’ve grown so much!”

“Really?” He looks at his torso and his arms as if he can’t believe it. 

“Well, a bit,” you curse at your awkwardness as he cocks a brow, “I’m sorry, I’m a bit out of my element tonight. I apologize for my earlier reaction.” You duck your head down for a second as he waves it off, hopefully not offended. 

You’re glad this little table is tucked away in an alcove away from most of the public eye, and the only people around the two of you are older people and the people standing outside in the gardens. Either they don’t see the man or they’re being somewhat human and granting the two of you some privacy. 

“Apology accepted, but not needed,” he teases, patting your shoulder affectionately as you try not to act as if that single touch made you reconsider the idea of marriage. 

“How are you?” He asks after a beat, not affected by your out-of-character attitude as he tilts his head to the side. 

“As good I could be,” you offer him a wink that came off as an elongated blink, “Whatever Lily filled you in on has most likely happened to me too.” He chuckles, his laughter the sound of melted honey. 

Fuck, you’re never going to get over him. 

“And you? How were your trips?” You egged him on, eyes tracing him, watching as some pink dusted over his cheeks. 

“Boring. Couldn’t wait to come back.” He says, but you can hear the sarcasm in his voice. Mixed with the way he couldn’t contain his bits of laughter, you laughed alongside him. 

“I’d believe it if not for your tan and newfound outlook on life, or so it seems from how Lily describes it.”

“She exaggerates everything,” he waves it off, and you wonder what that double-edged sword implies. 

“I-”

“He’s here!” You hear a loud voice cut you off as the two of you look over your shoulder to see his mother leading the awaiting princess and her train to where the two of you are standing, “He seems to be getting warmed up with this fine lady!” She says your name as heat rushes to your cheeks in embarrassment. 

It was only seconds before you were surrounded by men and women you had never seen before, all hanging off of Satoru’s words as he scrambled to answer all of their questions. 

And so it begins, you say to yourself as you push away from them, going to find Lily as you wonder why you even try. 

You miss the way he calls out for you, quiet enough so that nobody else hears it, but loud enough that his chest tightens in confusion at the sheer desperation of it. 

---

“I despise men!”

You’re at the Gojo estate for once, and Lily has started a new tirade that has lasted for the last hour. 

“What brought this on?” You press, exchanging worried glances with Satoru and her younger sister as she groans, jamming her palms into her eyes as she vehemently shakes her head. 

“Does this,” she shoves her hand, more importantly, her ring finger without a ring, in front of your face, “Look like I’m keen on getting married to you?”

“No….?” You mutter, scared of what she would say next. 

“Does it look like an invitation to barge into my home?”

“Not exactly,” You say, earning a sympathetic look for Satoru as she glares at him. 

“Does it look like I want to get frisky in the broom cupboards?”

“Christ! Lily, your sisters here!” You shout, jumping to cover the young girl's ears. Lily waves it off and Satoru just chuckles, a twinkle in his eyes as you usher the girl out of the tea room as you slam the door shut. 

“This certainly beats the beaches in Venice,” Satoru says as you near the table again, winking at you as you laugh quietly. 

“I’m so glad I’m not getting married. You should be too,” she points her finger at you as you look up at her, “Men are nothing but evil, money hungry, sex driven-”

“Charming, majestic-” Satoru talks over her as she talks even louder. 

“Dirty animals!” She finishes with a cry. 

You and Satoru share a glance as you try to laugh. She’s not wrong, far from it. The majority of men in this place needed to be sent back to their creator, but Lily had a vein in his forehead that was protruding at an odd angle. 

“You laugh now, but you’ll be thanking me fifty years from now.” She warns as you nod, acting totally compliant with her. 

“You’re still with her on her no-marriage pact?” Satoru asks as he stands up, walking past Lily as he looks out from the window, seemingly admiring the gardens outside. He glances over at you as you sink into the satin cushions beneath you. 

“Yes,” but your answer came out shaky and unsure. 

“Of course she is,” Lily answered for you with a definite nod, “And besides, she’s the luckier one. It’s not like any man has even asked her to marry anyway.” She says jokingly, shoving a biscuit in her mouth as she plops herself down beside you, nudging your shoulder with hers as if it were the funniest thing in the world. 

You wish the sofa could swallow you whole. 

“Hey,” Satoru turns around, brows furrowed as he looks at his sister, but the door opens before he can finish his sentence. 

“Miss Gojo,” their butler, Fred, who you’ve known since you’ve known Lily announces for her as he stands at the foot of the door, “Your mother has requested your presence in her quarters.”

Lily stands up with a groan, wiping the crumbs off of her dress as she makes sure there’s nothing around the corners of her mouth. 

“I’m needed elsewhere,” she pats your arm caring for it despite having her words wanting to make you plummet yourself off of a cliff, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You give her a weak goodbye, watching as she leaves with the door shutting behind her as you sit up a bit straighter, getting ready to leave yourself. 

You stand up, careful not to make any eye contact with Satoru out of sheer embarrassment as you smooth out the wrinkles in your dress, hoping the silence would suffocate you faster than it would him. 

“Lily talks too much sometimes,” he finally says, stepping away from the window as he takes a two closer to your direction, before passing, “I’d apologize on her behalf but I’m pretty sure she’s already forgotten what she’s said.” He tries to lighten the mood and bless his soul, but you can already feel your spirits for the day sour. 

“It’s alright,” you promise, though he seems to disagree but you continue anyway, “I know her, she doesn’t mean it.” Still doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt, a part of you chides. 

“Are you leaving?” He asked, taking another tentative step forward. 

“I was planning on it,” you say with a little chuckle, hoping that your eyes watering up wasn’t too noticeable, “Is that alright with you?”

He looked at you with his bright eyes and just blinked, taking a while to reach his senses. 

“Y-yes! Yes, quite alright. Let me just get my coat…” He muttered, brushing past you as you quickly tried to reject his incoming offer. 

“There’s no need!” You run a bit to catch up to him and his fast pace, “My house is barely two skips away,” you lamely joke, hoping he’d give it up. You wanted to wallow in your self-pity on your walk home, not have to converse with the one man who’d inadvertently give you more to pity over. 

“Not a chance,” he argued, draping the coat in question over his arm, “What sort of person would I be if I let you walk out alone?”

Any other person, you wanted to say but stopped yourself. 

“I don’t mean to bother you…” You wrong your hands in a nervous state, eyes darting everywhere but his. 

You were trying to work on your silly crush this past week, which had unfortunately ramped up ever since he came back. In response, you worked out that the best solution to getting over it was to act like he didn’t exist and ignore him whenever possible. Clearly, it was working out completely in your favor. 

“Not a bother at all.” He insisted, linking his other arms with yours as you jumped a bit in surprise. He was forward, if anything. 

“Fred,” he calls out, getting the butler's attention as you try to hide yourself away, “Tell my mother I’ll be back in a bit.” The man just nods, opening up the front doors as Satoru leads the two of you out. 

The sun was out and working away, which didn’t help with the heat already prickling away through your skin. The Gojo estate was large, but hidden away, and for that you were glad. You could only imagine the gossip that would arise if certain ladies in society were to see you (helplessly) draped over the bachelor's arm. 

“Are you enjoying being back here?” You asked, trying to exert your confidence when you were feeling anything but. 

It’s not like you were unsure of yourself at most times, it’s just that when you’re around the one man you’ve been in love with since childhood and he feels nothing of the sort, you can’t help but be more conscious over everything. 

Satoru looked at you, shrugging as he pursed his lips, thinking of an answer. 

“I missed it,” he says, “But I mainly came back for my family and my friends and well…” He trailed off, chewing on his lip as he waved off his thoughts as if it didn’t matter, “Nonetheless, now that I’ve been around them, I remember why I wanted to leave.” 

And sometimes, despite him not wanting to, made you feel as if you were the most important person he’s had the pleasure of talking to, when in reality that’s just in his nature. 

“Is Lily pestering you too much?” You tease, a little smile on your face that wrinkles the edges of your eyes. He simply stared at you again, his eyes bright. 

“That,” he playfully tugged on your arm, “And the fact that my mother has bombarded me with the idea of marriage. And Luke is having troubles with his fiancé  and Annie doesn’t want to learn to read…it’s all just very chaotic.” He finished with a tired laugh, as if that’s all he could muster up. 

“Seems like a normal day in your house, if I’m being honest.” You lament, kicking a pebble with the point of your shoe. 

“I guess so,” he heaves a sigh that comes out dramatically, “Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve put up with it all these years.”

You scoff, digging your elbow into his side a bit to show that you were offended by his statement. 

“Your family is perhaps the closest thing I have to a second family!”

“And who says family can’t get on your last nerve?” He argued, and that shut you up. He was, indubitably, correct. 

“Yes, well,” you stumble to find some reasoning and he laughs seeing you falter, knowing that he got you cornered, “‘Toru, you are simply a horrible influence to be around.” Is all you can come up with, and despite the severity of your words it only seems to spur him on even more. 

“And yet you can’t seem to get enough of me, can you?” 

You almost stopped in your tracks, your heart seizing in your chest as you try not to fumble up your well-made facade of indifference. 

All you could remember upon his statement were the words he spoke so long ago, not knowing you’d heard them. 

“Charles, you don’t get it, I don’t want a wife!” Satoru exclaimed as he snapped at his friend. It was a gala held at the queen's palace and you had strayed too far away from Lily and found yourself hiding behind a wall as you eavesdropped on the conversation. 

“Not even the Princess?” Another man pushed as you heard Satoru let out a heavy sigh. You peeled around to see him pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I don’t want to be tied down. You saw what happened to my parents.” He argued. A part of you sympathized with him. 

“Well,” you could make out this voice as his younger brother, two years older than you he went to thinking, “What about that friend of Lily’s? She seems nice enough.”

The hair on your arm pricked upwards. Surely they couldn’t be talking about you. 

“Who?” Satoru asks and his brother says your name in a hushed whisper, as if you held more weight in your title than the Princess did. 

“Her? No, absolutely not,” he said with such disgust that his friends thought he was joking, “You’re out of your mind if you’d think I’d want to court her.”

Your heart, full of love and hope and dreams cracked, crumbled in your chest. And you left, running away because that’s all you knew how to do and sobbed your eyes out to Lily, stating that you heard somebody talking bad about you, refusing to admit that it was her own brother that was causing you to break in front of her. 

A part of you felt pathetic for still caring for him after that night, but there’s not much fight in you when it comes to the people you loved. You pulled away, sure, and stopped your lame excuses of flirting, but you never stopped. He never found out that you heard, so he continued as your friend and you continued as the shameless woman. 

“Right,” you swallow thickly, glad that your estate is now growing closer and closer, knowing that you feel sick and can’t handle it anymore, “Thank you so much for your help, but I’m sure I can make the treacherous journey on my own now.” 

You wring your hand away from his arm, you smile wobbling as you tip your head in his direction, watching him try to make sense of your quick change in nature. 

“Let me take you up to your door,” he started but you raised your hand to silence him, shaking your head. 

“That would be too much to ask for. I will leave you here…um, Satoru,” you say politely, not noting the way his jaw clenched at your sudden formality when addressing him, “I’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully.”

And you left quickly before he could say anything else. You must stay focused on the reality of your situation;

Your best friend's brother just simply wasn’t in love with you. 

---

“Miss,” 

You perked up from your chair in your quaint little library, setting your book down as you watched one of the maids, Ella, politely calls from the door. 

“There’s a gentleman outside calling for you.”

Your brows furrowed as you found a marker so that you don’t lose your place and purse your lips together in questioning. 

“Do you know who…?” Your head cocked to the side as you stood up, walking near her as you wondered if it were that delivery boy who said he’d come with the new copies of the Brontë books you’d been eyeing for the past month. 

“It’s the Viscount Gojo, miss.” She said simply. 

Your face dropped, and you watched as confusion spread across hers. 

“Him? Here? Did he say what was wrong?” You began to rustle around, trying to find something to throw on top of your slip. 

Did something happen to Lily? Did she run away? Was their mother in trouble? You could recall her telling you that her head was aching, could something serious have happened because of that? Christ, you should have told somebody about it rather than comfort her and make her tea. Was he leaving again? Perhaps-

“He said he wanted to see you miss, that’s all he told me.” She seemed apprehensive, judging your face to see if you were maybe feeling ill due to your reaction. 

“Um, alright, just,” you hurried around, trying your fastest to get to your room, “Tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes! Don’t tell him I’m preparing myself, just say that I was discussing matters with somebody!” You call out as you sprint across the halls, not hearing any confirmation as you lock yourself in your room, ransacking your closet to find something not too flashy but not too boring. 

It took a good four minutes just to find a suitable dress and another five to make your face and hair look presentable enough as you scampered down the stairs only to find said Viscount waiting in the foyer. 

His face turned to yours as he heard your heels clicking on the marble, growing into a bright smile as he dipped his head down to greet you. 

“Hello,” he said your name with that smooth voice of his as he took his jacket off and kept it on his arm, “I’m sorry for turning up on such short notice.”

“It’s no problem,” you try to catch your breath for the first time in the last ten minutes as your chest heaves slightly up and down, “No problem at all. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He takes a second to respond, eyes scanning your features, your clothing, your chest as it tries to catch a solid breath, and you feel yourself look down to make sure there aren't any noticeable wrinkles in the fabric. 

“I, I just wanted to drop in. See how you were doing.”

You tried not to look even more startled, but your brows creased once again as you gnawed on the inside of your cheek. 

“I’m quite alright…thank you…?” You couldn’t look that out of the ordinary, right?

“Good, that’s good,” he watched as you finished your descent down the stairs, slowly coming towards him as you waited for him to finish, “I’m sorry if I interrupted your conversation with…?” Ella did give him a name you wanted to guess. 

“Lord Cornwallis.” You finished for him, not knowing why that was the first name that came to your mind. It was true that he had been here yesterday, but you didn’t talk much to him in his brief visit. 

“Lord Cornwallis?” Satoru repeated back in shock, his brows shooting upwards as he did nothing to hide his outburst. His face quickly turned into one of disgust, which accurately represented the emotions you felt yesterday when you eavesdropped on the conversation he had with your mother behind closed doors. 

“Yes, you just missed him. He went out through the back door,” why were you making this web of lies even bigger? You have no self-control, do you?

“What was Cornwallis doing here?” 

You but your tongue, having to come up with a lie or tell the truth as to why he had visited yesterday. Either way, both options turned out with horrible results. 

“He asked for my hand.” The truth it was, then. 

His brows seemed to disappear into his hairline as his jaw slacked, mouth wide open. Damn your mind, you should have just lied. 

Lily was wrong in one thing, perhaps. You have gotten a few marriage offers in the last three years, but by all men who were older than your grandfather. You hadn’t even told Lily about them and now you were telling her brother. 

“I…” Satoru couldn’t even find the right words to say. You wanted to bury yourself in a hole. 

“…Cornwallis? Isn’t he-”

“Pushing ninety-nine? Yes.” Nobody was sure of his age, and ninety-nine was perhaps even being too generous. Everybody knew that Cornwallis was simply ancient. 

“Did I save you from the conversation at least? I must say, if there was any man I would wish ill upon, it’s certainly him. He’s a lying old cheat.” He tried to joke again but you swallowed thickly. Perhaps if he came at the same time yesterday he might have. But he didn’t and you had to sit through an hour of him pleading with your mother as the two of you just stared in abject horror and surprise. 

“Yes well, thank you…for doing that.” You lied, cleaning your teeth together as you tried to smile, not wanting to hurt his feelings as you came up closer to him, desperately hoping to change the topic of the conversation. 

“Is everything alright with Lily?” You asked his eyes that were focused on the floor jumping to yours as your lips parted, worry still clear on your face. 

“Yes, of course, I just wanted to ask a favor of you. But, judging from your encounter with men today I would understand if this is pushing it,” he cut right to the crux of the matter. He seemed nervous, which was an odd emotion to see on a man otherwise very confident and sure in himself. It unsettled you. 

You tilted your head, waiting for him to find his words and continue. You could make out the slight blush on his face, the pink hue that spread across his cheeks, and the tip of his nose. He was, by all means, the cutest person you’ve ever seen. 

“My mother's holding another ball, two weeks from now, you see,” his lip caught between his teeth, “And she’s been bugging me about having a date for the night. She wants to appease the rest of the gentry, I suppose. Would you, by any chance, like to be that?” 

You stopped computing his words. 

“...It’s honestly just to get her off my back. And you wouldn’t have to stay with me the entire evening, you could do whatever you’d like after we get some of the necessities over with. Lily was the first who suggested the idea, she said you wouldn’t be doing much other than gossip with her. Of course, if you don’t want to I certainly won’t force the idea, but it’s merely a suggestion.” His blue eyes, ever so convincing and round and caring bore into yours, and despite your better judgment you find yourself nodding. 

“I wouldn’t mind it,” you say a bit breathlessly, completely forgetting about Cornwallis and the way you were debating it and the fact that this means nothing at all, and would most likely cause you more harm than good. 

His nervousness washed away into a big smile, and you cursed yourself at the little flicker of hope you felt deep in your soul as he scrambled to find the right words to say to thank you. The flood of gratitude and appreciation stabbed deeply into your heart as he kept repeating friend, but you were too hopeful for love. 

Your mother always said that loving would always be your greatest weakness. 

---

You should have said no. 

The amount of eyes that were focused on you was enough to make you nauseous, and you couldn’t get sick for you hadn’t had anything to eat today with how hurried everything was. 

Your arm was draped around Satoru’s, and he held tightly onto your hand. He was the image of luxury and charisma right now, and if you were in the crowd looking as he made his way through the crowd you almost would have wanted to bow. 

Time came by a lot faster when you were totally freaking out over it, and before you knew it, you were put in a dress you hadn’t even picked and corseted to the heavens. Your hair was done with extra detail, and they even went as far as putting some Swarovski’s into it so that when the candlelight hit it, you’d sparkle twice as much. 

Satoru, ever the gentleman, had picked you up from your estate as he walked you to their home amidst all the chaos of getting ready for another ball. In all honesty, you have no idea how their mother manages to keep her sanity through all of this.

You were still a bit giddy from your earlier interaction with Satoru, although it didn’t do much to calm your nerves now. 

“I’m sorry for taking so long!” You had said as you rushed down your stairs, careful not to trip over your train as you put your earrings in. Ella said that he was waiting for you downstairs, you just underestimated how early he’d be. 

“Don’t apologize…” He had turned around from admiring a painting, his eyes widening a bit when he saw you. He quickly shut his mouth, but you had already gauged his reaction. You tried not to let it get the best of you, but you could have sworn he blushed more often than usual when you interlinked your arm with his.

“You’re cutting off my blood circulation.” He whispers in your ear as you try to smile, your eyes nervous as they dart around the room. How could it be even bigger than that last ball? Did they suddenly meet thirty new people? 

“Maybe you could cut mine off.” You snap back through your teeth, your hand gripping his wrist as tightly as you could. 

“How are we supposed to dance if one of us is dead?” He grumbles back, putting on a little grin as he makes eye contact with his mother, and then goes back to whispering, “It’s just one song and you’re done. You’ve done this before.”

You wanted to shove him to the ground. 

“No, I haven’t!” You say loud enough that he hears but try to mask it so that nobody else does, “I told you yesterday this is my first time dancing with somebody!” As embarrassing as it was to admit, right now you couldn’t be bothered to care as he led you to the middle of the room, standing in first position as you two waited for the orchestra to begin. 

“Are you saying I’m your first?” He teased, his tongue poking out from between his lips as he watched you grow mortified, rubbing the back of your hand in a comforting way as his means to apologize. 

You wanted to go ahead and argue but the cello and violins started and you were whisked away by his calculated movements, and the only thing you could do was follow in his lead. 

The two of you practiced a bit in the days leading up to this, but it was a lot different when your only crowd was Lily and her constant whining about how boring it was. 

Now, with everybody staring at you and him, it was far more daunting. 

“Don’t look at the ground, look at me,” he whispered in your ear, smiling when your eyes traveled to him. He tried not to crack when he saw the pure loathing and hatred in them, but at least you were looking up and not at his shoes. 

“‘Toru I’m never doing a favor for you again, you owe me.” You groan, letting him twirl you around in a circle as some of the ladies give a polite clap. 

“Name your price.” He egged you on, bringing you back flush against his chest as his hand found purchase on your waist. 

“Not money,” you grumble, eyes twitching as your heart beats rapidly in your chest, you’ve always wanted to dance with him, sure, but not under these circumstances. 

“Books?” You consider it but shake your head. You deserve something bigger for what you’re putting yourself through. Shocking enough, after being a wallflower for so many years, you weren’t handling being in the spotlight too well. 

“I’ll think about it. But it has to be big.” You warn and he lifts up his pinky on your waist to show you his unbridled loyalty to keeping true to your words.

“Where are you going after this is done?” He spins the two of you around, and you watch as more couples rush around the two of you. It’s less stressful when others are dancing, but you still feel tense. 

“I’m probably going to stay with Lily outside.” He seems to deflate a little, though he still stands tall, his suit never crinkling through his movements. 

“No more dancing?” He teased but you vehemently disagree with the idea. 

“Never again.” It’s not as though you hate it, in fact, a younger you would have been jumping with glee to be able to dance with Satoru. But after years of growing accustomed to watching rather than participating, you can’t grow out of that habit. 

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to see the Princess herself as she looked at you with pleading eyes. 

“Would you mind if…?” She motioned to Satoru and then to you. You barely noticed the number coming to an end, and the rupture of applause was the last thing you heard before you scrambled away from him. 

You didn’t even notice how he had held onto your hand tighter, not wanting to let you go.

“O-of course, your majesty.” You winced at your select choice of words and how you said her title almost as if you questioned it. 

“Thank you.” She mumbled and for somebody of such high regard, you wouldn’t think of her to need to plead with somebody, especially you, to be able to have a dance with Satoru. 

Your job for the night was done, successfully might be too loose of a term, but finished nonetheless. You chose not to look back at Satoru, knowing that the wide grin he’d save for the girls he was interested in would only twist that knife deeper into your heart. 

You were a sadist in the most pathetic way possible.

You waved goodbye to Satoru as another number started again, and tried your best to get away from all the twirling bodies as you headed out to find Lily. 

It didn’t take long until you found her trying to weasel out some information from her brother, tapping him repeatedly on the shoulder as he tried to fight her off. 

“…what did you hear, what do you know?” She pressed as he groaned, obviously trying to have a private conversation with the lady next to him. 

“Nothing Lily!” He locked eyes with you as he almost begged silently for you to take her. 

“Lily, I’m here. We can go now.” You looped elbows with her as you dragged her away, giving her brother a quick smile that said you accepted his gratefulness. 

As you walked through the stone path in the garden, she muttered dejectedly about how she was just about to get some good information out of him. 

“How was dancing with Satoru?” She finally asked after a while. The two of you weren’t alone, but far less crowded than it would if you had been inside. 

“Stressful, but the song was short so I wasn’t needed for too long.” You tell her honestly. If there’s one thing you can’t do with Lily it’s lie, for she’ll sniff out of you the moment you come up with it. 

“You look flustered.” She noted, looking over your face and the sweat that dotted over your cheekbones. 

“You dance in a sweltering room like that with the entire ton looking at you and try not to get flustered.” You reasoned and she seemed to buy it. It wasn’t a total lie, but a stretch of the truth. 

“You know,” Lily had terrible balance and often collided with you as she walked, “I was talking to my mother and despite her insistent warnings, I think we should make it official.”

“Make what official?” The lights from the candles above you illuminated her face and she had that look of mischief that either excited or frightened you. 

“That we plan to be unwed.” She grinned cheek to cheek and all you could feel was that same wave of nausea that had been prickling at you since the start of the night. This was the last thing you needed to hear about right now. 

“They’re going to think we’re either lunatics or lovers.” You say with a sullen and heavy sigh, looking up at the sky in some sort of desperate manner as you wait for some sort of angel to save you from this conversation. 

“And what’s the issue with that? Let them think. You have always said you’ve wanted this, so let’s let the world know.” 

Something you wish Lily was was to be more aware. As loving, thoughtful and caring as she was, she never seemed to pick up on the little things. For one, you doubted she noticed just how quiet you got whenever she brought up this conversation. You’d give her the benefit of the doubt and say that you rarely talked much when it came to marriage, but that was just so that you could save yourself from the ongoing embarrassment of never having experienced love or some sort of feeling that somebody would feel towards you to genuinely want to be your husband. 

Not only that, but far from Lily's point of help, is the fact that ever since Satoru has been back, your childish feelings have come flooding right in with him. No matter how many tea sessions you have with Lily and have him sitting in the background, either reading the morning's paper or jotting things down in his journal, it always spins to him sitting right beside you as you talk about anything under the sun. 

And while you know your hopes of marrying him are just too far-fetched, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic. Something Lily just hasn’t ever been able to pick up on when around you. Which is shocking, seeing how the only novels you’ve read for the majority of your life was centered around such a topic. 

“Listen, Lily, I’ve been thinking,” you pause for a second in your place, staring at the pebbles arranged in the formation of a star as you swallow your bile, “That maybe…” 

You were nervously wringing your hands together, a sign that Lily knew all too well. She could read you like any of her books, and she let out a gasp, covering her mouth with a shaky hand as she pointed an accusatory finger at you. 

“No,” she dug the finger into your chest, “You’re thinking of breaking up the pact?” It comes out breathless. Her soft curls of white that had been done up beautifully were slowly falling down as she shook her head in pure shock, not giving you a chance to talk. 

“I mean this is just brilliant. Brilliant! What am I supposed to do now, go out into the world alone as a spinster?” 

You stuttered, your fingers interlaced with one another as you tried to calm her down from causing a scene. Trying to shush her came to no avail as you wring your hands away from her, acting as if your touch was burning. 

If the Gojo’s were anything, it’s overly dramatic in places where dramatics were certainly not needed. 

“Please be rational,” she urged you as she clutched onto your wrists, suddenly pleading to you with her wide eyes, “The season is almost over and you haven’t had any offers. Sooner than later we’re going to be thirty, then forty, then fifty, and husbandless. We should say it now so that it doesn’t come off as a pathetic cry to hold onto what little decency we have in the future!” 

Christ, you hated that she was being somewhat logical. But her rationality stung, the way melted wax does when it burns the skin. She didn’t know just how much she was hurting you, and you doubted she ever would. 

“Look, I know I’m probably not going to be offered a chance at marriage, but it wouldn’t hurt to at least try.” You try to reason with her as she sniffs, her eyes squinted as she looks at you in anger. 

“This was our pact and you’re going against it! What’s next?”

You were going to argue that this pact was only made on the basis of her having too much champagne to drink and you being sullen over her brother, but you were cut off from getting the chance to do so. 

“What’s your issue?” 

You turned around at the familiar voice as you saw Satoru nearing you, Lily continuing her rant as she seemed to completely miss that her brother was coming towards the two of you. 

“What?” You felt overwhelmed with having two Gojo’s corner you, both rather angry from the looks of it. 

“I know that this isn’t your scene but you said you’d be my date. You don’t have to dance with me, but at least be there.” He looks like he’s seething, and you’ve never seen this look on him before. It’s jarring, to say the least. 

You feel like your head is about to explode. 

“I just-”

“....and my mother was only more confident in the idea if you were doing it!” Lily exclaimed, causing you to look back at her as she urged you to think about it. 

“...my mother has given me at least twenty women to mull over in the last twenty minutes. It would have been none if you just acted as my date for the night!” Satoru’s voice rose, and you felt like your heart was going to actually stop. Your head was spinning, your vision was blurry, and you couldn’t hear anything besides a loud ringing in your ears. 

“I’m sorry but-” The two of them talked over you, so stuck in their own worlds that they didn’t notice the tears pricking at your eyes or the way you seemed to be short of breath. It would probably be one of their greatest flaws, never noticing something until it was far too late. 

“Stop!” You cried out, earning some looks from the people around you as you rubbed at your forehead, already feeling it ache under your touch, “Please! Listen, just for a bloody second!” 

You took a deep breath and began. 

“I’m a fucking romantic Lily, and nothing’s ever going to change that! I always have been! And I want to get married, I just agreed to your pact because I know I’m probably never going to get that chance! And god, how can your only takeaway from reading Persuasion be to abstain from marriage?” Your nose crinkles in anger as you turn around to point your finger at her brother's chest, watching as he takes your reaction in obvious surprise. 

“You!” You cry out and he almost backs away, “I was trying to give you some courtesy by leaving! God forbid you gave anybody the idea that you were courting me!” You quickly wipe at your eyes but it does fuck all of hiding how you truly felt as your lips wobbled.  

“Why would…?” He's breathless, no longer angry, just utterly confused and a wee bit frightened. 

“We both know you’re too good for that. How’d you phrase it, you’d be out of your mind if you did such a thing?” You throw his own words back at him, and you watch in some sort of mixture of triumph and heartbreak as realization washes over his features. 

He finally remembers. 

“I…” he swallowed thickly, running a hand through his hair as it fell out of his face, rubbing at his jaw as you looked at you from beneath his lashes, “I didn’t…” but he can’t finish his sentences and instead stops, sharing an unreadable look with his sister as they then look at you. 

“I’m going home.” You say after a beat of silence, breathing deeply through your nose as you look away from the two of them. 

“Let me-” Satoru started but you raised a hand to stop him. 

“I think I’d be better off alone.” You snap, nostrils flaring as you shake your head, pinching the bridge of your nose as you try to stop the already impending migraine that is about to come. 

For once in your life, you didn’t care about the eyes boring into your back or the way that whispers flew around you and twisted around your throat like a vine. You were glad that nobody else other than the servants was home as you ran up into your room, locking everybody else out as you sobbed into your pillows. 

---

The days following your (well-deserved) outburst were more than rough. 

To your knowledge, Lily has visited a total of ten times in the past five days, sometimes twice in the same one, while her brother has visited a grand total of zero. You didn’t expect much from him, but this really cemented your quickly growing disdain. 

Your mother informed you constantly that she was trying to put out the fires from that night but you couldn’t bring it to feel too bad, after all, you were glad that you didn’t say anything more drastic. 

“This is just so unlike you!” She cried, shaking in disappointment as you munched on some sweets you nicked from the kitchen. 

“I know,” you chuckled, “I’m so proud of myself.”

She just throws her hands in the air as a sign of utterly giving up and storms out of the room, most likely to meet with somebody else to “clean up the mess.”

She was right for some part, you can’t remember the last time you actually told somebody how you were feeling. It’s not healthy on your end, but growing up with three older sisters who always got it their way meant that you had some lack of backbone. 

Lily and Satoru, as much as you cared about them, didn’t live like that. Their mother loved them all equally and she made sure that all of their voices were heard. She was always making sure that their priorities were met and she never made them feel inferior. 

Which somehow, didn’t pass on to you. 

Loving the way you do got tiring when you got nothing back, and giving everybody your all when nobody seemed to notice it felt as though you were alone in a world full of people who cared for each other. You’ve read the books and heard the stories, but you eventually realized that it simply just wasn’t in your cards to be dealt the same thing. 

They cared, you know they did. But sometimes, it felt like they expected your care in order for them to show it to you. 

“Miss?” you heard a faint voice and a knock at your door. You sat up from your slump as Ella slowly came inside, shutting the door soundly behind her. 

“Did my mother ask you to make sure I haven’t flung myself off the balcony?” You dust away any crumbs from your pull over as you stare out the window. 

“I’m making sure you didn’t.” 

Your head snapped over at the familiar voice only to see Lily standing at the foot of your bed, looking out of place with her bright purple dress. She looked like she was teetering back and forth between staying out and sprinting away, and you admired her courage after how many times you’ve turned down her offer. 

You glared at Ella but she was no longer there, leaving you and Lily alone. 

“You’re just in time then.” You say blandly, standing up from your bed as you make the covers and are careful not to come too close to her. She seemed to notice. 

“We can’t go about this forever,” she stated, rounding the corner of your bed as she took three steps forward while you took one back, not wanting to be cornered again the way you were that night, “This silent treatment is killing me.”

“Then die,” you don’t mean it and she knows it, but her face wobbles for a second and you watch in horror as tears spring to Lily's eyes. 

The last time Lily cried the two of you were fifteen and her brothers had effectively ruined the singular dress she had actually been looking forward to wearing by staining it with ink. You spent at least an hour calling her down and trying to rationalize with her until you finally gave up and offered to cut holes in all of their suits. 

You’re not sure you could do that now. 

“I’m sorry!” She sprung herself forward at you with full throttle as she hugged you tightly, “You’re right! There’s nothing wrong with being a romantic!” You don’t know what to do as you stand there in shock so you awkwardly pat her back, her long white hair never loose so you’ve never really seen it to its full extent. 

“My brother and I have been at war with each other trying to put the blame on somebody else but I’m sorry! You of all people deserve to find love,” she looks up and her eyes just look like oceans and it’s unfair how pretty she looks when she cries because you just look like a mess, “Please, please forgive me.”

You look as she refuses to pull away from you, clutching desperately onto the thin fabric of your nightgown that your mother reprimanded you for not getting out of, and slowly feel your hands circle around her back as you pull her into a hug. 

“Honestly,” you shake your head as she looks up at you, cheeks rosy with streaks of tears and her lip wobbles violently, “I’m probably going to be on that pact ten years from now. But I just-”

“Want to try!” She finished your sentence for you, something the two of you always prided in being able to do, “and that’s respectable too!”

You try not to smile but the corners of your lips tug upwards as you nod, Lily waiting with bated breath as she scanned your reaction. 

“Don’t ever treat me like that again, you hear me?” 

She vehemently nods, pulling away as she wipes at her eyes, holding out her oinks finger as she waits for you to latch on. Sure, it was a childish way of making a promise, but Lily was never the serious sort of person. If anything, this is the most you’ve ever seen her apologize about something. 

“I promise with the depths of my soul. If I do, brand me with an iron.” Your eyes widen as you go to disagree but she won’t take it. 

“I swear.” She repeats gravely. 

You look at her pinky for another second before you bring yours up, not believing that this is still how the two of you go about making amends. 

“Alright then,” you heave a sigh, “I forgive you.”

Her face breaks into a wide and toothy smile as she pulls you in for a tighter hug, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs as she pulls back away. 

“You’ll never regret this, I swear,” she looked radiant, but quickly stopped as she looked down at the ground, trying to gather her thoughts on how to break the news to you, “Now, be prepared for another one.” 

You blink slowly, brows furrowed in confusion as you lean on your bedpost, arms crossing as your lips purse. 

“What?” 

She almost looks ashamed again, looking at the clock on your wall. 

“My mother’s invited you over for dinner. Get ready to see the other Gojo.”

---

Your mother, as difficult as she was to deal with at most times, somehow understood the concept of showing off through a good wardrobe. 

You wouldn’t put any bets on the fact that if your outfits were significantly better you might have had at least one man approach you in all these years, but it certainly could have been a possibility. 

The cut was lower than all your normal dress, and with the help of your corset, pushed the sisters up a considerable amount. 

The color was the most flattering you’ve ever seen, and through the utilization of crystals and diamonds encrusted in the fabric itself, it shined perfectly when the light hit it. 

For the first time, you were glad your mother picked out your outfit. 

Unfortunately, the outfit gave you only so much confidence. When you walked into the Gojo estate, thankfully with Lily on your side, all the memories from that night came flooding back and your stomach flipped upside down. 

You were glad that Lily was seated next to you at the dinner table as well, but it didn’t help that Satoru was seated in front of you, glaring daggers into your face as you tried to avoid looking at him. 

“Now, you didn’t tell me about your plans for the next year, with the season already coming to an end.” Their mother, bless her heart, asked as she loaded some peas into her fork, looking at you with her kind eyes as you struggled to think of a good enough answer. 

“I’m planning on taking a marriage offer up, actually,” you say, trying not to look at Lily for you knew she was already giggling.

In the past five hours, you filled her in on everything, and she decided the best way to get Satoru to say something was if you went with the idea. 

“Oh?” You watched as she perked up in interest, as did the rest of the Gojo family. An offer? 

“Yes,” you nodded, “Lord Cornwallis, actually, if you’ve heard of him?” 

Lily was gleaming as she saw her brother clench his jaw as he stared at the side of your face that was still looking at their mother. 

“L-lord Cornwallis?” You felt bad for lying to her, but you could just come back later and say you’ve changed your mind, “He must be at least-”

“Ninety-nine?” You answered for her as her cheek warmed, “Some say he’s just in his prime, yes.” 

She drank some of her wine. 

“Isn’t that desperate?” Satoru finally said and you heard a loud clatter from the end of the table as their mother angrily sat her cup down, glaring at her son. 

“Satoru!” She exclaimed, the rest of the girls and boys watching in tense silence as they waited for your reply. 

“It’s alright,” you shrugged, fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist, “And yes, it could come off as desperate. However, I would rather go to a man who finds no problem in courting me rather than somebody who’d tell the whole world just how much it would disgust him to be seen with me.”

You could swear you heard a tooth crack. 

“I’m sorry, am I missing something-” One of the brothers piped up but Satoru acted as if he hadn’t heard him. 

“Well if that man were drunk out of his wits-”

“Then he let his sober thoughts reign free.” You finish for him, nostrils flaring as Satoru twisted the ring on his forefinger back and forth. 

“Again, Miss Gojo, I’m simply thinking over his offer.” You finish, seeing how she could barely take her eyes off of her son as she blinked towards you, giving a shaky smile as she nodded. 

“Of course, there’s no…no problem in that.” She swallowed uncomfortably, as did everybody else. You peeked over at Lily to find her just as you suspected, beaming with silent joy. 

“If you wouldn’t mind, I think my dress has come a bit undone. I’m going to call for somebody to fix it.” You say, excusing yourself as you try to go ahead with the plan you had set in the first place. 

“Make him mad, really mad. Say something about Cornwallis, he despises him,” Lily muttered, sitting cross-legged on your bed as she urged you to listen to her directions, “Then excuse yourself. Say you’ve got to use the privy or something, doesn’t matter.”

You nodded, listening intently as she laid it on thick for what she had been picking up on for the past couple of days. 

“Go upstairs and find his room, you know where it is. Be quick with it too, but there’s this box on his desk that’s full of letters. I swear on my Austen collection that there is a letter with your name on it.”

You felt your heart tumble. 

“Are you sure?” You asked, glancing at the clock to make sure you wouldn’t be late to dinner. 

“Positive. And I’d get it if I could, but he’s so secretive with his room that this is probably the one time it’s going to be unlocked. He’d never suspect anybody going snooping at this hour.”

You grinned, knowing that if you finally got that little something to use against him, he’d have no choice but to grovel at your feet for the rest of his life. 

You quickly scampered up the stairs, telling one of their mates that you’d be able to fix your dress on your own and that you’d be stashed away in Lily's room for the time being, and mentally times yourself as you quickly paced through the halls, looking for the familiar dark oak that would be Satoru’s room. 

Just when you were about to get lost in their maze of a house, you stopped triumphantly behind the last door at the end of the hall, staring deeply at it as you weighed your options. 

You quickly caved, slowly reaching out to the doorknob to see if it was locked. 

It swung open, and you let out a sigh of relief and looked around a final time to make sure that nobody had followed you before you fully let yourself inside. 

It was dark, and you left the door slightly open so that the light from the halls could sleep in a bit, and you went to work on locating the box on his desk that Lily had described to you. 

You squint your eyes, wincing as you bumped into furniture as you made your way to the corner of the large room, blindly reaching and grabbing for anything on the mahogany desk that would resemble a box. 

You let out a sound of triumph as you found a square-shaped glass-feeling thing filled to the brim with papers, holding it upwards to the sliver of light as you quickly ran through the letters with your fingers and you tried to find one with your name on it. 

They seemed like they were all unsent, with many of them labeled to his mother or siblings, and a few to his friends, but you didn’t find any of them labeled to you, and you quickly felt your heart and hopes sink. This was taking far too long.

Just as you were about to give up, you passed a smaller shaped letter with cursive that looked familiar, in the sense that you had seen it addressed before, and pulled it out only to see your name staring back at you. 

A part of you almost wanted to sink into the chair behind the desk, your heart beating rapidly in the small vastness of your ribcage as you held it back up to the light, seeing a note tucked neatly away through the transparency of the envelope. 

Your nimble fingers went to rip the seal of wax off, but stopped as the door swung open. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Satoru stood at the doorway, blocking the rest of the light as his shadow cast over you. 

You dropped the letter, quickly hiding it behind your back as he stepped in, getting closer to you as you abruptly stood up, trying to come up with a feasible lie as you rounded away from his desk, trying to get away from him and his massive build. 

“Oh?” You looked around as if suddenly realizing this wasn’t the place you were supposed to be, “Is this not Lily’s room? Silly me, I couldn’t make it out in the dark. I’ll be leaving now if you’ll excuse me…” You turned around, brushing past him but stopping when you felt his long fingers circle your wrist, turning you around as his eyes squinted. 

“Bullshit,” you flinched, never having heard him curse before as his hands felt around yours, finding the letter you were doing a terrible job of hiding, “You know this house better than your own. Why the hell are you in my room?” 

You didn’t say anything as he brought your hand out from behind your back, opening up your closed fist with much ease to reveal the crumpled-up envelope. Your chest heaved up and down, waiting with bated breath as he stared silently at the letter. You balled your fists back up again, stepping away from him as he followed you quickly in your footsteps. 

“Give that to me y/n,” his voice was low and commanding, unlike anything you’ve ever heard before, and if you weren't in your rebellious mood (and somewhat in your independent, not totally in-love-with-him mood) you would have caved, but you shook your head, looking behind you as to make sure you didn’t back into his bed frame. 

“It’s got my name on it.” You argued, knowing it was a terrible excuse, and you watched him chuckle darkly, knowing that you had no good reason for being in his room and sifting through his letters. 

“And yet it was in my room, in my letterbox, on my desk.” He snapped, eyes a deep blue and different from the usual lightness they carried. He wasn’t joking and he wasn’t lying, he needed that letter back. 

Which just made you want it even more. 

You didn’t know what to do, so the only logical thing in your sporadic mind was to shove it down your dress, hiding it in your chest as Satoru watched your movements like a hawk, not saying anything as you defiantly showed him your now empty hands. 

“Get it now Satoru,” you challenged him, not realizing you had backed up into the wall until your head lightly bounced off from it, wincing at the sting as you looked back behind you. 

He didn’t say anything, and it seemed like his mind was running as quickly as it could as he tried to deal with whatever it was you were doing. Instead, he just three more languid steps forward, nearly face to face with you as he stared down at you, eyes darting from yours to your lips and chest. 

Under any other circumstances, you would have felt like shedding your clothes off from how heated you felt under his gaze. Here, your only resort was to keep them on, to see what was so important about that letter. 

“I came to find you to apologize,” his voice is low and calm, his cool breath hitting your cheek as you struggle to keep your composure, “To be civil. To tell you that I didn’t mean anything I said that night.” 

Despite your mixed emotions, you felt your brows furrow at his select choice of words. 

“Are you here to tell me now that you actually meant every word?” You couldn’t stop the words as they tumbled out of your mouth, knowing that the answer would probably send you into a state you could never get out of as the person you’ve loved for the majority of your life confirms your biggest fears.

But shockingly, he just shakes his head, his lips pink and plush and you’ve never found yourself focusing on them more than you are now. 

If only you knew that he felt the same as he looked at you. 

“No,” he stepped closer, if possible, but still had room to shove him away. But you didn’t, not now, you couldn’t, didn’t want to as his nose nudged yours a bit, your lashes fluttering against your cheek as your lips parted, waiting for him to do something, 

“I’ll show you that I didn’t mean them.”

You couldn’t breathe, your lungs contracting as his face fell towards yours, your lips meeting ever so slowly as they finally landed on yours, soft and somehow delicate as they pushed against yours, finalizing the kiss as he began to move them. 

You’ve never kissed anybody before, often dreaming about it as you lay in bed hopelessly in love, but never thought you’d be here from the man you’ve imagined on the other side doing it with him. 

He moved slowly as if he knew that this was your first time, and you didn’t know how to handle your emotions as he angled his chin to get closer to you, his lips capturing you in such a heated and feverish pace that you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep tonight as you thought back on it. 

His hands slowly came up to your waist, tugging you flush against his body as your hands somehow found their way behind his neck, finger curling into his long strands of arctic white as he groaned against you when you tugged a bit, the sound coming from deep within his chest. 

You were impatient, always have been, and it probably took him a little bit by surprise as you quickened the pace, hungry after so many years of starving for this as you pushed against him for more fervor, feeling him smile slightly against your lips as he met you in the middle, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as you whined slightly as the feeling. 

He nipped at your lips, his tongue poking out from in between yours, and you absentmindedly opened your mouth a little bit to make room for him, heart and mind working in tandem as he brought up a hand to cradle the back of your head, making sure it didn’t hit the wall as he pushed against you. 

It was messy and hurried, and for once, it felt as if he felt the same you were feeling. As if he too wanted this, needed this more than air itself, and that thought alone made your mind stop functioning. 

Your hands moved from his neck to his chest, fingers clutching onto the satin fabric of his suit, wrinkling the fabric as your noses bumped against each other, sheer desperation showing from the two of you. 

“Viscount Gojo?” 

The two of you almost jumped at the knock that sounded from the door. 

“Your mother is asking where you are. She’s worried about the lady as well,” Fred didn’t peek his head in, and for that you were grateful. You were sure you looked like a total mess at the moment, but Satoru spoke, glancing at the door as he took a deep breath, almost as if it was his first time breathing in a couple of minutes. 

“Tell her that we’re working things out. It’ll take a bit more time.” His voice sounded steady enough, but from where you were standing you could see how swollen his lips were, the fact that they were red and glistening with sweat. His hand on your waist tightened as if he didn’t want to let you go, and your hand lay flat against his chest.

“Of course,” Fred answered, “Take your time.” He shut the door completely, and the two of you waited until you heard his footsteps becoming softer and softer until you could no longer hear them. 

You waited, looking in the direction for another second before you looked up at him only to see his eyes gauging yours for a reaction, somehow a storm going on behind them as he battled twenty different emotions. 

“I’m still hurt Satoru,” you whisper, his eyes never changing but his shoulders tense a bit as you drop your hands away from him, as if you were suddenly coming to your senses and realizing what you had just done, “I can't forgive you this easily.”

You don’t know how to handle your feelings sometimes, and sometimes they catch up to you later than they should. You could still hear his words from that night ringing around your mind and nothing was stopping it no matter how hard you tried. 

“Come get the letter when you’re ready to apologize with more than just your lips.” 

You look back up at him one more time before you push away, feeling him lightly move away from you to give you space as you smooth out the front of your dress, touching your face to make sure that none of the makeup and powder that was swiped against your face wasn’t wrecked as you left. 

You don’t look back as you left him silently in his room, shutting the door behind you as you stopped, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves as you went back down to dinner. 

---

A week passed since your night with Satoru, and you’ve come to terms with the fact that he regrets it. 

It hurts, it hurts even more when you convince yourself that he probably was trying to take pity on you and test how true his old words were, but you couldn’t spiral, knowing that it would cause even more turmoil. 

Lily came by regardless, under the impression that you and her brother made up and are on better terms, and you're in no rush to tell her the truth of what happened. 

She asked about the note, but you insisted that you couldn’t find it. She grumbled that he probably threw it away after she pestered him constantly about it. 

“What about Lord Balfour?” She was sprawled out on your bed, her legs crossed resting it up against the wall with her head at the opposite end, looking on a piece of parchment in which she had gone around asking for men looking for marriage (and a true romantic connection, she stressed). 

“Hm, too bald,” you said, sitting in your vanity, washing off the rest of the powder on your face as you dipped the soft cotton cloth back into the pitcher of water as you looked at her through the mirror, “Isn’t he a year younger than us?”

She pouted as she thought, looking back to her list as she crossed off that name. 

“Count Alexei?” She seemed to like this one and you set your towel down, trying to place a face to the name. 

“Isn’t he from Russia? Wouldn’t it be difficult for him to come back and forth?”  You asked and she nodded, although she seemed more sad that you didn’t want him. 

“Have you just gone around the ton asking if anybody’s looking for marriage?” You teased and she turned around, sitting up as she wiped the hair out of her face. 

“I take your journey to find true love very serious,” she argued and you snorted, knowing that it was a kid if that and the fact that she liked judging the men of the higher class, “Are you complaining?”

“No, of course not.” You turn around from your chair as you face her, urging her to continue. 

“Duke Cambell?” She looked up from the list with a raised brow, only to find you looking the same, taking more time to consider the name. 

“He explicitly stated he’d consider marriage? With me?” You tilt your head to the side. Surely it would be too good to be true. He wasn’t too pretty, nobody was like Satoru, but he wasn’t that bad to look at either. 

“He seemed quite eager about it, actually.” She said, and you smiled a bit, feeling like a silly schoolgirl with the way you ducked your head. 

“He’s a bit shy, isn’t he?” You said with a little giggle and she snorted, nodding as she circled his name and put a question mark next to it. 

“Just means he’s more apt to moan louder,” she said blandly and your mouth dropped, burrowing your face in your hands at her very open nature. Even after ten years it sometimes caught you off guard. 

“Lily!” You shouted, trying to hold in your laugh, and she just looked at you as if you should have expected this as she rose from your bed, stretching her arms above her head as she let out a frantic yawn. 

The sun had already set and she knew her mother would be expecting her to arrive soon, and you went to stand but stopped you. 

“No need to stand, I’ll bid farewell from here.” 

You rolled your eyes at her dramatics, picking up the cloth again as you dabbed at your cheeks. 

“I assume you’ll be here tomorrow?” Crossing your legs as she shrugged as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. 

“Yes. In fact, I’ll leave this prized list with you so that you can mull it over,” she walked over a bit and set it down on the top of your vanity, looking at you as she put a solemn hand on your shoulder, “Do think over Count Alexis. He is rather dreamy.” 

You chuckled, waving goodbye to her as she left the door with a litter thud, blowing kisses as you snorted at her exaggerated act, turning back around to your mirror as you wiped away the remaining bits of your makeup. 

You were already in your dressing gown, the material soft and light on your skin as you set the cloth back down, drying your face off with another one as you got ready to sleep. 

With meticulous care you took your earrings off and began to work on your necklace but struggled with the finicky clasp, your thumb slipping just as you were about to get it. You let out a quick groan of frustration, shutting your eyes as you tried not to lose your temper over a necklace.

“Do you need help with that?” 

You were getting better at controlling your reactions, but your eyes snapped over to the top of your mirror as he stood there, shutting the door behind him. Your hands fell to your lap as you silently seethed. 

Ella was never going to hear the end of it. 

You said nothing and he quietly walked over to where you sat with your back to him, opting to look at him through your mirror as his slender fingers slowly came up to your neck. 

“I’m getting rid of my maid.” You mutter eyes dropped to your lap as you try to control your breath as his fingertips touch your delicate skin, gingerly getting to work of undoing the clasp. He didn’t say anything and the only sound that filled the room was your slow little puffs of air, trying to get your pulse to stop from doing the strange rhythmic beating it always did when you were around him, as if he somehow became the conductor of your heart. 

You heard a small click and the necklace became undone, and he gathered it in his palm as he set it down next to your little trinkets, dropping his hands from your shoulder as his cerulean eyes found yours once again, and you looked away, his deep stare burning through yours. 

“Don’t,” his voice came out rough as if he hadn’t made much use of it for a while, “She’s always turned me away when I came asking for you. I weasled my way through her right now, almost blew my cover when Lily was leaving.” 

Oh.

“I’m over it.” No, you weren’t, but you wouldn’t admit that out loud.

You opened up the drawer to the left of you, moving some little cases of jewelry around as you found the letter you had hidden away as you brought it out, setting it on the desk as you stood from your chair, pushing it back in as you faced him, “Take it. I didn’t read it.” Despite how much you wanted to, you just couldn’t bring yourself to stoop that low and read through something he didn’t want you to see. 

He glanced over at the letter and then at you, taking the letter with careful movements as he found the letter opener scattered on your desk, ripping through the wax as he opened it up, passing the envelope back to you. 

“Read it.” 

You certainly weren’t expecting that. 

“What?” You couldn’t blink, looking at his outstretched hand that held the very thing that had been bothering you as if it was nothing, “I don’t-” 

“Go on,” he urged quietly, his voice caught in the back of his throat, “Read it out loud. Please.” 

You looked at him once more to make sure he wasn’t going crazy before you gently took it from his hands, your fingers brushing past each other as you opened it up, taking out the letter as you unfolded it, taking a deep breath as you prepared yourself for the worst. 

“I’m terrible at writing letters, you should know,” you start, squinting as you move closer to your candle so that you can read it better, “And you should know that I’ve written this twenty other times. I have-

“Twenty balled-up pieces of paper next to me,” Satoru finished the sentence, not looking at the letter once as he read it from memory, “If only you could see the mess,” he paused, his hands shaking a bit as he continued, “I apologize for not sending as many letters to you as I should, but aside from my travels which have proven to do nothing other than make me regret leaving, I only have one other thing left to tell you. 

“I love you. I’m in love with you. I thought that it would do me some good to leave and get some time to think about how bad it would be if I said out loud that I was in love with the girl who’s my sister's best friend, but I’ve simply gone mad over needing to see you again. I’m in Paris, which is coincidentally the city of love but I’ve grown bitter and resentful over the fact that the woman I love is an ocean away from me. I can’t do it anymore. No, scratch that, no, I can’t do this other letter…” 

“...It’s too pathetic. You’re worth more than this.” You concluded, reading along because you couldn’t be yourself to look up at him, knowing that you simply would break apart and couldn’t take it as you heard the three words you’ve wanted to hear from the man that you never thought would say them. 

You looked at the paper, eyes scanning each word again as you let out a heavy sigh, feeling like you were living in a dream that was wrapping its arms slowly around you and whisking you away. 

“That night, I projected. I don’t know why I said what I said, I just know that thinking it over told me everything I needed to know and I acted like a coward and a fool and I hurt you when really, I love you. I love you, I’ve never stopped. I burn for you, and I always will.” He whispered, his eyes wet with unshed tears as he cleared his throat, wiping at his nose as he sniffled. 

You’ve never seen him like this, exposed and raw. But you knew that you mirrored his emotions, knew that you were in the same state that he was for he carefully brought his hand up to your cheek, wiping a tear away as he cupped your face in his hands. 

“I know that it would be too much to ask for your forgiveness, but please, I don’t know how much longer I can go without at least seeing your face, hearing your voice, your laugh, you’re kind, kind heart.” His hands trailed down your face, down your arms, and your waist, settling on your hips as he ducked his head downward, tears sliding down the curve of his nose as he did something unexpected. 

The Viscount Gojo Satoru began to kneel. 

You froze, looking down in shock as he bowed his head in shame and apology. 

“‘Toru, please, I,” your voice broke and you quickly wiped your tears away, taking his hands that were sprawled out across your waist as you held them, not knowing how to handle this display of vulnerability as you gently made him look up at you, “Just tell me one thing.” 

His thumb caressed the back of your hand, giving a soft nod as he whispered; “anything,” and his hand moved up your waist, holding your back as your hands unknowingly went to his hair, moving it away from his face as your fingers twirled and played with his white strands, basking in the sense of having him at his knees for you. 

“Why did you wait so long to come back?” Your voice is barely audible as it cracks, a year of missing him and ten years of longing for him coming out as he shakes his head, almost as if he was more remorseful about it than you could ever imagine, and he shifted so that he wasn’t resting on his ankles anymore, digging deep into his pocket as he brought out a little box. 

“I went back to Japan. I was trying to find this little ring my father gave my mother back when he started to pine after her,” he opened up the box, a delicately cut blue diamond rind resting on a thin gold band stared back at you, shining in the candlelight, “I wanted to give it to you as a promise…” and he trailed off, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he suddenly became a bit embarrassed, pocketing the box again as he looked back up at you. 

“What was the promise?” You can barely hear your words over the thumping of your heart. 

He swallows, slowly coming to standing back up, never losing his hold on you, clutching onto your thin nightgown as if it was the only thing grounding him to reality. 

“That I’d marry you one day.” He whispered back, his voice hushed as if he didn’t want them to escape the vicinity of your room, this shared space between the two of you in which you stripped each other bare to the soul, only the find that they longed to be in each other's place even when they were miles apart. 

Just as he did so many nights ago, he leaned closer to you, giving you time and space to push him away, to yell, to scream, but you didn’t, nudging his nose with yours as your lips found each other, this time quick and rough and not wanting to be patient because there was no room for such a thing. 

He let out a small groan as you tugged on the hairs at the back of his nape, pushing you further down until your back hit one of your windows, feeling the cool night air from the glass as it traveled through the thin cotton of your slip

It seemed like something in him was finally let go, and you as well, and everything came tumbling down in the best way possible. 

It was so messy and rushed and desperate that you felt like you were going to faint, the air from your lungs being stolen by his hungry and greedy lips as he pushed back roughly against you, needing to taste you, feel you, or else he simply wouldn’t make it. 

Satoru tapped the back of your thighs, urging you to wrap your legs around his torso as you pulled away slightly, questioning him as he scoffed at your doubt. 

“I spent a year getting bigger and stronger for you,” he murmurs against your lips, “and the first thing you said when you saw me was oh. Come on,” he nipped at your lips, his boyish and charming smile growing when you whimpered, “Test me out.” 

You gave in, standing on your toes as you did what he asked, and you let out a little laugh of surprise at how he wasted no time wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he smirked, going away from the ball as he led you to your bed, basking in the sound of your twinkling laughter as you admired him in all his glory. 

“I shouldn’t have doubted you,” you tease and he snorts, fixing your gown as he hovers above you. He was huge, so much bigger than you anticipated in your imagination, but it was so much better than you ever could have thought. 

“I’d never lie to you,” he promised, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips that left you breathless as he continued downwards, pressing kisses down your jaw, and your neck, spending time as he sucked at one of your vital points, enjoying the way you sounded like you had run a marathon. 

He looks stunning here; his lips look bruised and swollen, pink and wet with spit. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of your body, and if you weren’t crazy about how he looked at you, you would’ve shielded yourself away in embarrassment. 

But he didn’t give you any time to think it over, pushing past your loose nightgown as he pressed delicate pecks to your shoulders and upper chest region, looking up at you to make sure it was okay to continue. 

You quickly nodded, eager to see what he was going to do. 

“Mind if I take this off?” He asks, tugging at the ends of it as you look at him from beneath your lashes, trying to feel indifferent as you shrug, but the way you smile giddily gives away just how badly you want him to. 

“I wouldn’t mind.” You help him move it upwards, your arms coming out from the sleeves as the chilly air hits your naked skin, and you suddenly realize just how out in the open you are compared to him. 

Out of second nature, you go to cover your chest but he tsks, gently pushing your hands away as he eyes your breasts, looking like he had just come back from staring at the sistine chapel with the way he looks at you. 

Your nipples harden from how cold it was, and he slowly dips his head down to one of your tits, kissing the soft and supple skin as he inches closer to your bud, finally latching his mouth onto it as you throw your head back, arching your back into his lips as he sucks like his life depends on it. 

“S-shit, ‘Toru, so good,” you mewl, wrapping your hands around his neck as he flattens his tongue against your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive area as you whine even louder, not seeming to care if anybody outside your door could hear. 

His other hand lathes onto your other one, not wanting to leave her unattended as he pinches your nipple between his two fingers, twisting it just enough to make you shut your eyes at how good the attention feels. 

“Let me hear you,” he groans into your skin, looking up at you as you try to cover up your mouth with your hand, “I’ll stop if you cover up that pretty mouth of yours.” 

You simply nod, leaving your shaky hand to grip your bed sheets as he switches his mouth and hand with each other, giving you different sensations to wrap your hands around as you feel a deep part of your pulse, needing more of him. 

“‘Toru, please,” your voice comes out shaky as he releases your tit with a pop, his hands going down to hold onto your hips as you bring his chin up for another kiss of swapping spit with him, growing to appreciate the lewdness of it all as you lay feather light kisses on his jawline, feeling him shudder beneath you, “Wan’ more.” 

At any other time, he would have drawn this out, would have teased and prodded at you to use your words, to tell him where you needed him most, but he couldn’t wait with you, wanting to have a taste of you himself. 

So his wolfish grin comes back, his hand traveling down your stomach, stopping just above your mound as he cocks a brow at the way you seem to grow impatient, reaching the place you seemed to have in mind. 

“Here?” He asked quietly, his pointer finger moving to find your clit as you let out a quiet gasp, his expert fingers having nothing on your inexperienced ones. Sure you’ve touched yourself deep into the night when you made sure everybody was asleep, but it never felt like this. 

You couldn’t speak, so you nodded again, and that seemed to be good enough for Satoru as his finger moved down to your lips, a deep groan coming from within his chest as he felt how wet you were, and prodded his finger at your tight walls, slowly pushing past them as he seemed to be in a trance. 

You sucked him in so delightfully, pulsing against his as your slick stained his finger, making it easier for him to fuck you with a little bit more pace, careful not to hurt you, as he brought it back up to circle at your clit, trying to find what places you liked to be teased most. 

“O-oh my god,” your eyes rolled back in your head as his long find pushed back against your gummy walls, his other thumb finding your nub as you whined even louder, not used to feeling this good, spreading your legs out even further as you tried to make room for him. 

“There you go, s’perfect,” he said against your skin, dipping down as he moved a hand to keep your thighs further apart, “Mind if I have a taste?” And you were in another dimension, just cradling his neck as you pushed him to go further. 

He chuckled darkly, nearly going insane as he neared your glistening pussy, eyes growing dark as he moved his fingers away so that his tongue could have its turn, and you swore you almost came right there. 

He licked gingerly, savoring you first as he groaned, his thumb never giving up on circling and massaging your clit, but he began to eat you out as his life depended on it, licking and sucking like you were his last meal. 

“‘Toru, ‘Toru, fuck!” You screamed, biting your lip harshly as you kept your finger tight around his hair, “Don’t stop, please!” 

“F-fuck,” he murmured, coming up for a quick breath as he looked at you from his long white lashes, “Fucking kill me if I ever stop, okay?” 

He goes back in with the same amount of fervor, your chest moving up and down as you arch into his mouth, your jaw going slack as you quickly feel that rope in your stomach tightening, embarrassed at coming so early but knowing that there was no way you could stop yourself with the way he fingered you out at the same time he ate you out. 

“I’m yours,” he said against your skin, “I’ll always be yours.” It was out of place, but it seemed like he was branding it into your skin so that everybody else knew, knew that he belonged solely to you.

It was too much, and you felt like you were slowly losing your ability to think, talk, or do anything, and the only thing you could feel was him, and you felt it all coming to a crescendo as his mouth latched onto your clit, letting it all go as you came into his mouth. 

“‘M c-coming, mmmm fuck!” You couldn’t even believe the sounds you were making as you clenched around his finger, your essence coating his chin and hand as your legs were trembling, glad that he held a stable hand on your waist. 

You saw white for a couple of seconds, taking even longer to catch your breath, your tits rising and falling with each heave, and you suddenly felt like you came back down to earth, peeking out from an eye to see Satoru smiling down at you, his face soft and you whined in shock at what just happened, hiding your face into one of your pillows as he laughed lowly, the sound dripping down your ears like warm honey. 

“You just came around me, no need to be modest now.” He gently moved your face away from the sanctuary of your pillow so that you could look at him again, and he leaned down, pressing one final kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on him as you let out a muffled moan. 

“How do you feel?” He asked as he pulled away, sitting on his haunches, letting you drape the blanket around your sweaty chest as you tried to sit up, shaking a bit as you tried to recover from your mind-breaking orgasm. 

“Good,” you say groggily, wiping at your eyes as you give him a lazy, languid smile, “Really good.” 

“Yeah?” He asks, chuckling as you nod, finding his hands as you play with his long fingers, and he lets you watch as you let them entangle with each other, somehow feeling more connected through this than the previous activity as you slowly pull him back down towards you, wanting nothing more than to curl into his chest. 

“Give me a second love,” he wanted the same thing, but he pulled away, “Let me clean you up.” 

You didn’t fight it and let him go, watching as he found the pitcher of water on your desk as he found a clean rag and wet it, coming back to your bed until his eyes caught something under the sheets. 

He picked it up, reading it as he sat down next to you, running the cold towel across your thighs as you let out a little whimper at the temperature. He pressed an apologetic kiss to your forehead as he turned the paper around in silent questioning. 

Your eyes widened, trying to take it away but he held it above your head. If you had more fight in you, you might have wrestled for it, but you gave up, letting him clean you up as he tried not to laugh at how measly it was. 

“I doubt Cambell would know how to make you come.” He finally says, throwing the rag away somewhere as you groan, pushing his face slowly away as you try to fight the giddy laugh that was going to bubble its way from your chest. 

“Stop! Lily was just trying to help!” You argue and he waves his hands, loosening the buttons of his tunic as he crawls in next to you, pulling you flush against him as he kisses the tip of your nose. 

“It’s fine love,” he nestles his nose in your hairline, smiling when you hitch a leg over his, “You’re mine now.” 

You look up at him, tracing over his features with the light touch of your fingertips as he leans into your warmth. 

“Do you promise?” 

He gives a single nod, sliding the delicate ring over your finger, and closes his hand around yours. 

“Promise.” 

[jmscornerlibrary]

Snape's Search History - Part One

So this has been requested by quite a few people, now. For those who hadn't seen my previous headcanon post: here it is. I will try and tag all those who have expressed interest in the comments.

In short: After stealing Snape's phone and looking through his saddening search history, the trio come up with a plan to make Snape happy. This is how it unfolds, for the Potions Master has little idea what to make of it.

Enjoy and do reblog to inform the others!!

Part One.

All was still in the empty Transfiguration classroom. The dust lay undisturbed and thick upon the solid desks, which in turn were standing silent and endeavouring in their fortitude of unuse. The chalkboard looked dejected, the forgotten endeavours of clearing it of writing still visible in ashy smudges across the charcoal surface. And it would have probably stayed like that for another decade or two if the door wasn’t flung open and three small figures stumbled from behind it, making enough noise for the dust to twitch into the air again. A ‘quick, quick!’ was spat out by one of the disturbers accompanied by a few hisses of urge, then a scrabble as the doorknob was found and the door was pushed.

The dust jumped up from the desk as the door slammed shut and settled back upon it once more as Harry, Ron and Hermoine stood, panting, in front of it. 

After a short moment, Ron pushed himself from the door. His face broke out in a wide grin.

“Blimmin’ heck, that was a mess!” He laughed and dusted his hands. “He’ll be looking for it, now, I bet.”

“But we’ve got it!” Harry grasped the trophy tight, as though he was afraid that it would slip from him, back to its owner. “Let’s do it quick, before someone else comes to find us and sees us.”

Hermoine said nothing, but she was far from calm herself - in fact, she was inches from jumping down on the spot and breaking out into a mad giggle. The latter she repressed with difficulty as they all stormed to the nearest table, swept off the perplexed dust from it with their sleeves, then laid out the shiny, sleek device upon its surface.

The device was a phone. It wasn’t any old phone, either, for if it was perhaps only a few of the more eccentric would deem it a subject of interest. This was a working phone, one which withstood any feuds between its power and the magic sparking and fizzing, though quiet and invisible, in the air; even better yet - this phone belonged to a certain man whom the three giggling and bending over its shiny, black surface, hated with a vengeance. This phone belonged to the Potion’s Master: Severus Snape.

“Go on, Hermione.” Ron slid the phone over to the small witch with bushy brown hair. “You said you knew the password.”

Hermione nodded, growing solemn at the task at hand, shoved her brown mane out of her eyes and bent over the screen, which grew illuminated at the touch of a button.

“Merlin’s beard, what my dad would give to be in our place,” Ron breathed, as Hermoine tapped out some letters and numbers with her forefingers. “A fellytone, and a working one too-”

“It’s called a telephone, Ron,” Harry corrected, though he could barely breathe as he watched Hermione’s fingers working. “Ha, I cannot believe we’ve actually managed to do this. Fred and George are nothing compared to us, now.”

“I’d love to see their faces,” Ron whispered, almost wriggling with glee. “And I’m the one who fished it out of his pocket! Now, all we need to do is-”

“Got it.” Hermione smiled as the screen changed, displaying buttons with different icons upon a plain, dark backdrop. “Now, if I remember correctly, it's called explorer…”

“Why aren’t we doing this in the common room, again?” Ron continued. “I know Percy’s a prefect, but even he wouldn’t-”

“Because, Ron,” Hermoine began as she chose the right button, “we have no idea what Snape actually keeps or searches for on this phone. If it’s all weird, we’d be too embarrassed to even attempt showing it to them. Plus,” she added, when Ron opened his mouth to interject, “it’s not like we’re going to cast it out of the window as soon as we’re done. It’s not magic - at least I don’t think it is - and it won’t just disappear or fly out to find Snape. We can show the rest of our classmates later.”

Ron opened his mouth again, but then understood the sense of this and closed it. 

“There it is,” Harry said, as Hermione searched for the right option. “History. Oh, boy, this is gonna be good. If he’s not cleared it.”

Ron rubbed his hands and rocked on the balls of his feet as he leaned on the table. “Yeah, as ‘Mione said, I bet it's all weird. Let's see what’s first.”

Dangling hair and breathing mingled and hovered inches from the square surface as all three leaned in to see. However, there was hardly any giggling, after they all read the first position on the records of what, precisely, the Potion’s Master searched for whenever he had a spare moment. In fact, there was none at all, and the glee was slowly replaced with something that none of them had been expecting.

Hermoine’s eyes dulled and eyebrows furrowed as she read the first position aloud.

“... ‘How to be more approachable’.”

There was a rather awkward pause. Hermione made a rather sad ‘oh’ sound. Ron shifted slightly.

“That’s kind-of sad, to be honest,” he finally managed, frowning.

“Scroll down, Hermione,” Harry waved aside the tension and leaned forward again. “That’s only the first position. Perhaps he’s had a change of heart.”

“And the most recent,” Hermione murmured, but she scrolled down obediently. 

“Yeah, I bet it’s all weird further down,” Ron muttered, but they were all disproved again. Their childish glee was completely reduced to something rather prickly and uncomfortable as Hermione ploughed through the searches:

“...Where can happiness be obtained…” 

“...How to tolerate children…” 

“...Patience, tips...”

“...Wholesome fiction with happy ending… stories with happy ending… which sad books to avoid… books to make one’s soul happy…”

And then:

“...Fast, effective…”

Here, Hermione paused and bit her lip, her eyes sparkling strangely, her brow now heavy. Harry glanced at her, then finished for her.

“Fast, effective headache relief.” He straightened and shifted from foot to foot, then looked at Ron for some sort of inspiration to dilute the thickness of the air. “Did you know Snape gets headaches, Ron?”

“Nope,” Ron offered, looking rather ashamed of himself and his gloating, the tips of his ears pink. “I didn’t think so. I mean, it makes sense though, doesn’t it…?”

“I feel terrible,” Hermione whispered, balling her fists.

“Yeah, we should probably put it back,” Ron said, though he didn’t look as enthusiastic about slipping the phone back into the Potion Master’s pocket than he did about proudly obtaining it. “Should we just leave it on his desk when he’s not in the classroom?”

“And how are we going to do that?” Harry asked, frowning. “We can’t go running around the dungeons. The Slytherin common rooms are there.”

Hermione sniffed, then rolled her eyes, pushing the phone away from her. “You have an invisibility cloak, Harry. This shouldn’t be too much of an issue.”

“Oh, yeah.”

They stood there for another few seconds, before Harry reached out and hesitantly pocketed the phone. “Let’s get back to the common rooms. We don’t need to mention this to anybody.”

“No, we don’t.” Ron said sadly, recalling his former words of potential victory over Fred and George and how they just went down the drain. “Never mind. Let’s just go.”

The dust was rather glad to be free of them, and so was the classroom. Only the desks, however, were rather miserable that they once again stood alone in their fortitude of unuse, unnoticed, only there to be berated and slandered by the students. Just like, as the trio would soon deduce, Severus Snape, the Potion’s Master, was.

*

A week passed. The phone was returned back to Snape’s desk without much ado. After that, it was unmentioned, and whenever it was glimpsed, three pairs of eyes were averted to the candles or windows, and most certainly not to each other, no words about it leaving their mouths, though they most certainly bounced around in their brains, though some were more cluttered than the others’.

It was through Harry’s mouth that the uncomfortable topic surfaced and it did so on a Saturday evening, in the library, when the day was slowly coming to an end and the sun was sinking slowly outside the mullioned windows. Ron was scowling at his Transfiguration homework, when Harry shot out a sigh through his nose and put down his quill.

“Listen, guys,” he started, nudging Hermione, who didn’t look as though she had heard him and just kept right on scribbling, her nose nearly touching the parchment. “I’ve been thinking… Hey, Hermione, are you listening?”

“Shush.” Hermoine glared at him, then shot a pointed glance at Madam Pince. “We’ll get kicked out.”

Ron’s scowl didn’t shift and was merely re-directed at its favourite subject of complaint with large front teeth and a vehement urge to stuff her head with new fragments of knowledge. 

“Not if we keep our voices down,” he said, potting his quill too. “Talk, Harry.”

Harry opened his mouth mainly to play on Hermione’s nerves than to follow through on his plans, when his mind did a detour to the wisdom of him touching on such a sensitive topic in a public place.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” he said with a nod. “Not because this is the library. We need to speak about… you know what.”

This was of enough weight for Hermione’s quill to stop moving. She shot him a glance, then met eyes with Ron and sighed.

“Yes,” she whispered. “We can’t speak about this here. To be honest, I’ve been meaning to speak about this to you both too.”

They latched up their bags, grabbed their stationary, then swiftly exited the library, tripping over Harry and Ron’s untied shoelaces. Hermoine grabbed them by their bags when they turned the corridor towards the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“The common room’s full,” she hissed. “We should go outside. We won’t be overheard there.”

“Hermoine’s right,” Harry said, nudging Ron. “Let’s go.”

They turned around, then began slowly walking down towards the main gates. They all kept silent, their eyes trained mainly to the floor, sometimes only looking up to meander around the other students milling around the corridor. It was probably why they didn’t notice the ominous figure walking towards them until they had all but face-planted themselves into its black robes.

Hermione was the first to look up and stick out her arms to halt the other two, her eyes sharpening after she was prodded out of her thoughts by this slightly unwelcome reality. Harry and Ron had similarly dumb expressions as they blinked up at her, then at what was in front of them.

Professor Snape’s voice was as restricted to nothing but cold disdain as usual, and the black of both his clothes and expression matched this regularity. 

“Where are we going?”

Harry opened his mouth, but Hermione beat him to it.

“Outside for a moment, Professor Snape.”

Harry paused, then nodded along with Ron, trying to appear as though they weren’t hiding anything at all. The Potion’s Master observed them for a moment or two longer, before lowering eyebrows and, as it seemed, his guard.

“I suggest you look where you’re going,” was all he said, before drawing his cape about him and turning to pass them. But he didn’t manage to pass them, when Hermoine opened her mouth and after drawing a deep breath, emitted a string of words strung upon the same one:

“I hope you have a good night, Professor Snape.”

It was quite uncanny, really, how all three males looked at her with the same degree of incredulity and astonishment upon their faces, apparently forgetting things like enmity and dislike. It was enough to make poor Hermione flush a deep red and her words to run away from her before she could properly filter them through her teeth and tongue.

“Just being polite, is all,” she muttered, before she tugged on Harry and Ron’s sleeves sharply. “Come on, let’s go.”

She dragged them off with enough force for Snape’s surprise to cool off and his usual stone face return as he watched them stagger, though that was only visible to Harry and Ron for a few seconds before the vehement grip on their arms prevented them from turning back around, in case they both got whiplash. 

“Are you mental? What was that?” Ron hissed at her, when they rounded a corner, then he did a double take when he fixed his eyes on her features. “Blimey, Hermione, you’ve gone absolutely scarlet.”

“You’ve gone redder than his hair,” Harry commented, though with a hint of admiration in his tone as he stared.

“Oh, shut up,” Hermione muttered, then dragged them through the main door, into the cool of the evening. “Never mind that. Let’s talk about the subject at hand. And don’t tell me you’ve not been thinking about doing something similar to what I did.”

She glared at Ron and Harry, still flushed. They both pulled faces back, but they dropped their gaze after a few seconds as they trudged through the foliage.

“Alright, maybe,” Ron muttered under his breath, when they reached the black lake. “But it was nowhere near to what you just did.”

“What precisely did I just do?” Hermione snapped. “I was just being polite.”

“You were sucking up to him-”

“No I wasn’t.”

“Yes you were.” Ron put on a high-pitched voice. “I hope you have a wonderful night, Professor Snape-”

“Oh, shut up!” She stamped her foot. “You act as though you’re entirely ignorant. You were there when we looked at his history. You saw it. And if complaining and arguing about this is the best you can do, then I pity you, Ronald Weasley!”

“Alright,” Harry cut in, weakly. “That’s not what we came here to do. Let’s just get it over and done with before curfew.”

Hermione glared at Ron once more before settling down. Both folded their arms and stared at the lake. Harry pursed his lips, for it was much harder to project his thoughts than he thought it would be, now that they were actually all together for that purpose alone.

“I think Hermione’s right,” he began, when Hermione was no longer red. “It would be wrong to keep at… you know.”

Ron snorted. “Being mad at Snape for picking on us for no reason?”

“He picks on everyone.” Hermione said, her eyes narrowed. “We’re no exception. Well, perhaps Harry is, but then you did get off to the wrong start at the beginning of the year.”

“No he didn’t,” said Ron.

“He was talking back to him,” she argued. “And it was the first interaction they had. No wonder Snape hates Harry.”

“And you,” Ron said pointedly. “You’re pretty much every teacher’s pet but his, and do you know why? Because he’s an-”

“Can you two not?” Harry snapped. “Can you two calm down? Please? This is serious.”

The arguing pair scowled at one another and resumed evaporating the lake with their glares.

“So,” Harry said, once enough silence had passed, “I think we ought to… you know, help him a bit. Be, erm, nicer.”

Ron turned and creased his forehead, but Hermione nodded, solemnly.

“We ought to,” she said, softly. “I told you, I was thinking about it. It’s all about perspective, really.”

“Perspective?”

“Yes,” she said. “Think about it from Snape’s perspective. Do you reckon he has a lot of friends?”

Ron scoffed. “Don’t make me laugh. Who would want to be friends with him? ‘Course he hasn’t.”

“Precisely,” she said, though she looked at him reproachfully. “You’re teaching over five-hundred children Potions, all of whom, if I may add, are intent on either not listening, not doing homework, or just being downright rude. Yes, Ron, I know he’s like that too, and perhaps he does deserve it, and if we didn’t know better, we’d be justified in biting back. The point is, he’s clearly sad. He looks it. He looks downright miserable all the time.”

“You’re blowing this over.”

“Oh, am I?” Hermione said. “Tell me one time in which you saw him smile. And I don’t mean meanly. I mean happily. Have you ever heard him laugh? Because I haven’t.”

Ron sucked on his lips, looking torn. Harry listened, looking solemn.

“I haven’t either,” he said, quietly. “At first, I thought like Ron does, but… I’ve lived with the Dursleys my whole life. They’ve held grudges for no reason, for a long time, and it's tiring to be the person receiving them and keeping them up.”

Hermione looked at him with eyes lined with admiration. She nodded.

“Exactly, Harry. We could just be the reason for somebody’s… well, perhaps not happiness, but… tolerance.”

“And how are we going to do that?” Ron asked, still looking begrudging, but not unwilling. “By saying good morning and good night?”

“We could,” Harry said thoughtfully. “That wouldn’t be going over the top, or anything.”

Hermione must have thought about this more carefully than both of them put together, because she started counting out everything they could do upon her fingers as she spoke.

“Not just that,” she began. “We could do everything which is expected of us, for starters. Like doing homework on time, doing it correctly, not just so that it's done and boxed off without thought, the right parchment length, perhaps more… I know, we could get the older students to check it for us, so that we know we’ve done it right… then, we could actually listen in lessons and excel…”

Ron was frowning as she spoke. Even Harry was getting slightly doubtful they would ever manage such a feat. 

“...Do extra work. If you don’t want to, Ron, then we could do something outside of lessons. Not necessarily work.”

“Then what?” Harry asked. “Like what?”

“We could… you know.” Hermione’s face became slightly pink again. “We could find out when his birthday is.”

“That’s going too far,” said Ron, firmly, looking slightly agonised. “Imagine his face… oh, no, I couldn’t.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Hermione agreed. “But then, I don’t know what else to do.”

“That sounds like a pretty good start to me,” Harry said. “Let’s start with lessons, Hermione, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll think of something else.”

Hermione’s face lit up, and for a moment both boys were afraid that she’d hug them.

“Great!” She grinned, then began walking towards the castle. “We have Potions on Monday, and homework due. Let’s get this done now! There’s still time. Alicia Spinnet’s good at potions - she’ll be able to point us in the right direction.”

Harry and Ron turned from the lake and began to follow Hermione as she marched towards the castle with an enigmatical spring in her step.

“I don’t know about you,” said Ron, as she talked on, “but I’ve got a weird feeling this is going to end up in a mess.”

“We’ve been in loads already,” Harry said, though there was something uneasy in his chest too, “so it won’t really make a difference. But Hermione’s got a point,” he added, after they reached the steps to the castle gate, “it must be annoying, being Snape. And, as we all know, doing homework properly’s always a good start to everything.”

“That’s utter garbage.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, grinning. “I’m quoting Hermione. She does it like she can’t live without it. And, from a teacher’s point of view, less marking seems like a good thing, at least to me.”

So the endeavours began, though they didn’t hold out to be as constant a flourish and blaze as Hermione made it out to be. Especially not after she insisted that they do twice the usual length as some form of surprise. 

“I’m not doing that,” Ron complained, throwing himself back in his chair and folding his arms. “I’ve got enough work as it is. And I’ve already done it to the best possible standard. Even you’ve said it's not bad, Hermione.”

“It looks decent,” she said, unrolling her homework, which made both Harry and Ron’s pale in comparison. “But if we’re going to show that we’re not hostile any more, we ought to try harder.”

So the homework was done somewhat begrudgingly and everything seemed to be going to plan, before Sunday evening. More precisely, the free afternoon of Harry and Ron was disturbed by Hermione suddenly coming in through the portrait hole, clutching something behind her back, then moving swiftly towards them and sitting at the table at which they were currently playing wizard’s chess.

“I’ve got something,” she said, slightly flushed. “You’re not going to believe what I made in the girls’ bathroom.”

The game was paused and the boys looked suspicious as they turned to look at her.

“The girls’ bathroom?” Ron repeated bluntly. “What have you been making in the girls bathroom, Hermione, that could make you go so bloody pink?”

They both looked blank as she withdrew a hand from behind her back and placed its contents upon the surface of the table with a rather proud flourish. It was a glass bottle, the sort which looked rather like a cuboid, stoppered with a round cork. It was filled with a light blue liquid, which seemed to glow faintly as it rested within its cool, glass confines. 

“That doesn’t look innocent,” Harry commented, knocking over Ron’s bishop. “What is it, Hermione?”

“It’s a headache draught,” she said proudly. “I found the recipe in one of the books in the library.”

Ron pushed his lips out as he stared at it, then picked it up.

“How d’you know he’ll know this is a headache draught, Hermione?”

“I reckon he’d know, since he’s the Potion’s Master.”

“But doesn’t that mean he’s fully capable of making these himself?” Harry asked. “It’s not like it would be a problem for him.”

“Yes, Harry,” Hermione said slightly impatiently, taking back the bottle from Ron, “but the thing is that some people, men especially, simply don’t bother with taking care of themselves. That’s what my mum once said, and I’ve observed it since. I have a good reason to suspect that Snape isn’t the sort to ensure his health is top-notch.”

“I wouldn’t care if I was him,” Ron agreed. “What’s there to live for, for him? If I had to teach a bunch of snotty kids Potions everyday, I’d probably kill myself.”

There was a bit of an awkward pause - Harry had begun to nod, but lost the ability to move his head as he caught the disapproval in Hermione’s eyes.

“I mean,” Ron corrected himself, “you’re probably right, anyway. How long did it take you to make this?” “An hour,” she replied, “but that was because I messed up the first one. I added a bat-wing too many, so I had to pour that down the sink. Anyway.” She sat up straight again, folding her hands on the table neatly. “It said that half this bottle is to be drunk with fluid twice daily. So we need to make this once a day.”

“We’re going to run out of ingredients within a week,” Harry commented. 

“Not unless we take a little too many during Potions,” Hermione said coolly. “It’s a basic potion, using basic ingredients. Nothing Snape doesn’t have in his cupboard.”

“That would be stealing, though,” Ron said. 

“No it wouldn’t, though, since we are giving it back to him in the form of self-help,” Harry replied. “And you are going to be making it every day, Hermione?” 

In response, Hermoine thrust her hands into her pockets and produced another six vials, placing them with a clink, clink, clink upon the table, neatly. The boys looked at her with varying degrees of astonishment and admiration as she lined the bottles up.

“When these run out,” was the nonchalant reply, though the pink returned to Hermione’s cheeks as it was spoken, “I will do so. Unless you’d like to help me make them.”

“I think I’m good,” Ron said. “You can take all the credit if you want, Hermione - I’ll be happy with just doing extra work.”

“Great,” Hermione replied, ignoring the slight annoyance tinging the last two words spoken. “Then we will start from tomorrow.”

*

As all three of the enlightened Gryffindors lined up outside the dungeon’s classroom on a Monday morning, all three could feel their hearts beating somewhere in their stomach. Hermione, as usually was the case when feverish with excitement or trepidation, wouldn’t stop talking, even for the danger of any nerves exploding in her counterparts.

“Remember what I mentioned yesterday,” she whispered with obstinance, leaning in so that she wouldn’t be overheard. “If anything happens, try not to shout, don’t argue, just try to be as polite as you can. Yes, even if it isn’t your fault, Ron,” she added, cutting off Ron’s indignant reply. “Just try to be as good-willed as possible.”

A drawling voice cut off this heartfelt advice.

“What are you three whispering about?” Draco Malfoy called from the front of the line. “You must be conspiring, since you’re standing so close to each other. Or are you just trying to kiss Potter, Granger?”

Hermione straightened, Ron scowled, Harry opened his mouth to retort, but they never got to, since the former turned around and raised her eyebrows.

“I hope you’re not jealous,” she replied, coolly, “because that would be gross.”

Malfoy scoffed. “Jealous? Of kissing you? Bleh.” He made a show of shuddering, then nudged Crabbe and Goyle, standing beside him. “Imagine kissing someone with teeth like that. They're absolutely massive. It would be like trying to kiss a beaver.”

Hermione’s lips turned down; Ron flushed a fiery red and took a step forward, but Hermione grabbed his shoulders before his clenched fist could go into swing.

“Snape will invite us in any second,” she hissed. “Don’t be provoked, Ron.”

“Yeah, don’t listen to him,” Harry said, shooting a look of hatred towards the blonde, pinched-featured boy guffawing. “He’s just being an idiot. It’s his natural state, he can’t help it.”

At that moment, the doors to the classroom creaked open, and they all began to file into their places. Harry and Ron began to meander towards the back of the classroom to their usual spot, but Hermione knocked on their arms and pointed towards the front row instead.

“Oh no,” Ron moaned, looking fearful, “no, not the front desks, Hermione…”

“Shut up, Ron,” was all she said before she dragged them towards the ominous front desks, just (oh, horror!) in front of the black board. They ignored the strange looks they received from the others around them and instead focused on unpacking all of their things needed for the lesson.

It seemed that they were all off for a good start, when Harry opened his bag, rummaged around in it for a moment, then looked stricken.

“What is it?” Hermione hissed, noticing, as she laid out her stationary geometrically on the desk. “Did you forget your homework?”

“No, I’ve forgotten to bring my Potions book,” he replied, turning his bag upside down. “Oh, great…”

“Silence,” Snape called from behind his desk, watching them with a distasteful look on his pale face. “Sit down.”

They all sat and slid their bags off the desk. Harry hoped nothing amiss would be noticed and instead of wriggling around nervously, he tried to listen carefully as the lesson began. Of course, Hermione had made the effort of ensuring that she was sitting between him and Ron, so that they wouldn’t give into temptations and burst into conversation with one another during inappropriate times.

Snape’s eyes darted towards them in a rather suspicious nature as the lesson began, as though he was expecting something dishonest at the least from this sudden change of seating and eagerness. However, the three looked back with innocent eyes, which, in turn, made the Potions Master’s eyes narrower, before he turned to write upon the chalkboard.

“You will be working in pairs,” he said, once all the instructions had been written and the sleeping draught introduced, “I expect this to be done and detailed on parchment by the end of the lesson.”

The vehemence with which Hermione threw herself into the task was quite unsettling, at least for the other two. However, since there were three of them, either Harry or Ron was going to have to go and work with another, and since neither of them wanted to be parted from Hermione (who, as usual, looked as though she knew exactly what she was doing) there was a little bit of dithering done. 

“Ron, why don’t you go and work with Neville?” Hermione suggested, as Harry slid over to her and almost grasped her arm as though to claim her for the lesson.

Ron looked stricken. 

“Are you mad?” he hissed, as discreetly as he could. “We’ll blow up the classroom!”

Hermione sighed. “No, you won’t-”

“Yes we will! It’s already happened twice before!”

However, Snape intervened before anything could be decided. They flinched, feeling the cold of his shadow and turned to see him standing behind them with his arms folded and his eyes still narrowed.

“Well?” He looked at the dithering three, from bushy brown hair to green eyes to freckles on nose. “This doesn’t look like a pair, to me.”

Harry shot a look at Ron; Ron glowered and made no move to move away. Hermione looked desperate.

“I’ll work with Neville,” she said, making them both shoot her panicked looks instead. “You two work together.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Snape said coolly, his eyes darting back and forth between them. “Potter, move your things to Longbottom’s desk. Weasley, you will work with Granger.”

Harry was about to open his mouth to protest, when Hermione stood on his foot and he ended up shutting it and nodding instead.

“Yes, sir,” he said, though sounding  slightly dispirited, then obediently gathered up his things and went to sit with Neville, whose round eyes didn’t leave Snape for the entirety of the time. He laid out all of his things, trying not to look at Ron, who looked rather smug at the change of circumstances, then looked up to find Snape’s eyes narrowed more still as they swept over the things he laid out on the desk.

“Where is your textbook, Potter?” Snape asked softly, his arms folded about him, looking much displeased. “Did you perhaps think that the presence of the scar on your forehead makes you unobliged to bring it? Or perhaps you think you know what to do already, without the book’s aid?”

Malfoy, who was working with Goyle to their left, snorted and nudged his crony. Harry remembered Hermione’s words and swallowed down his words, which were far too red and sharp for the plan they were trying so hard to execute.

“I apologise, sir,” he said, managing to sound relatively polite and stop himself from glowering at the same time, then took a deep breath. “I must have left it in the library yesterday. It’s my fault entirely.”

Neville stared at him. So did Snape. Harry turned to the former.

“Can I share your potions book today, Neville?”

“Sure,” Neville stammered out, then slid it over to him. “Here… here you go.”

“Thank you.” He turned to look back at Snape, who was looking incredulous at the least, almost nervous at the fact that he wasn’t firing a projectile of arrogance back at him. “Sorry to be an inconvenience, sir.”

At this, Snape actually took a small step back, twitching his cape around himself as though putting up a shield of defence, his eyebrows unbending themselves and creeping slowly upwards. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione shoot him a huge grin and give him a very big thumbs-up. Ron looked torn between cringing and clapping, but ended up nodding in approval.

Snape must have been so thrown off-balance by this alarming bout of humility on Harry’s part, that didn’t even give him a reply. He just slid away from their desk with a last thorough look at him, probably deciding he was under the influence of some spell and not being worthy of both his time or his nerves.

“Nice job, Harry,” Hermione said to him over her bubbling cauldron. “See, you can keep your cool if you want to.”

“I nearly didn’t,” Harry replied with a grin, feeling some odd sense of pride from this accomplishment. “But tell me, Hermione, how are you going to put that vial on his desk?”

“Oh, I’ve got that all figured out,” she said rather breezily, dropping powdered porcupine spine into her mixture. “I’ll leave my book here, then come and get it during break, while he’s gone to the staffroom. Or perhaps I’ll just do it when his back is turned. I’ll manage somehow.”

With that Harry couldn’t argue, so he turned back to his potion and met with Neville’s intrigued face.

“What are you up to?” he asked quietly, as they cut and measured. Harry thought there wasn’t any point in elaborating, so he just said:

“We’re trying to be nice to Snape.”

“Nice to Snape?” Neville repeated, pausing with his cutting knife hovering above his cutting board. “Why’s that?”

Harry shrugged, stirring his potion the way it said on the chalkboard. “Nothing much. Thought we’d have some fun and do some good, you know, Neville?”

Neville didn’t look as though he understood, but then he shrugged and nodded.

“That’s… nice,” he murmured thoughtfully, then nothing more was said on the matter, though he didn’t look quite as uneasy as he did before. In fact, he looked slightly impressed.

Everything would have ended nicely and according to plan if Harry and Neville weren’t stationed at that particular desk. Their sleeping draught was slowly turning a bright-purple colour, as was Hermione and Ron’s (when Harry glanced over), when suddenly there was a sound of splashing and Harry was slapped in the face with several globs of his concoction; someone had thrown something into their cauldron.

Goyle was grinning. Malfoy sniggered, then moved a few steps back to his desk.

“Looked like it needed more bat-wing, Potter.” He shrugged. “You’re welcome.”

Harry stepped forward and was about to tell him exactly what he thought of him with his fists, when Neville poked him frantically and said, “Look!”

He turned back just as the huge, purple bubble swelling out of the rim of his cauldron popped; there was a sound like a giant slug being squelched and Neville and Harry were drenched from head to toe in sticky goo. 

There was a gasp, silence, then a few pounding footsteps, rustling of fabric and Snape stood before them with his eyes black and his mouth sneering.

“You idiots,” he began, whipping out his wand as their cauldron gave another sickening squelch and more gunk splattered out. “Did you not read the instructions? Can you two even read?”

“It wasn’t our fault, Professor,” Neville stammered, wiping gunk off his face, looking worriedly at his ruined robes. “Malfoy threw a bat wing into our cauldron. It was coming along so well, too…”

Snape’s eyes flickered to Malfoy, who pulled a face which was obviously meant to look innocent, then back to Harry, who had taken off his glasses and was frowning as he tried to remove the sludge from their surface so he could actually see.

“That’s right, Professor,” he managed, frowning. “We’d followed your instructions, this time.”

From the corner of his eye Harry saw the shape of Hermione draw something out from her pocket, nip backwards a few steps and discreetly place it on Snape’s desk.

Snape didn’t notice anything, still looking furious. He looked at the purple gunk disdainfully, waved his wand, vanishing it off them and the table.

“Five points from Slytherin,” he snapped at Malfoy, then turned to Neville and Harry. “And five from Gryffindor, for the disturbance.”

This was horribly unfair and normally, Harry would have exclaimed and let him know that it was just so, but Harry had a certain mindset now along with Hermione making frantic motions at him from behind Snape’s back, and so he didn’t say a word as he put his glasses back on and stared at him.

“I apologise for the inconvenience, sir.” He pursed his mouth and shot a look at Malfoy, who’s grin wasn’t as prominent, now that he had been put in his place. “Thank you for cleaning the mess up for us.”

This time, Snape certainly looked baffled. He even looked displeased, his lip curling downwards, though Harry had a feeling it was because he had no idea what was going on, rather than him being disgusted at the good upbringing he was no doubt convinced Harry didn’t have. Ron stifled a snigger with his hands. Hermione smiled.

“Yes,” Neville piped up, surprising all of them, as he examined his clean robes. “Thanks for the help, sir.”

Snape stared at him, then shot a glance at Harry, then made a sound similar to an incredulous scoff and waved his hand for the rest to get on with working. The babble of chatter slowly resumed, as did the clinking of vials and hushed muttering of the flames beneath the cauldrons.

Harry watched Snape walk back to his desk with his eyes still narrowed, sit down, apparently lost in thought, then actually look at his desk and pause.

Hermione’s eyes shot a discreet look at the Potions Master and the corner of her mouth couldn’t restrain itself from twitching upwards as Snape picked up the headache draught in two fingers (it was very clearly labelled in block writing, so that it was unable to tell who had written it) and read the label. The trio watched his eyes grow wide as his eyes scanned over it - he was astonished! - then flash upwards with suspicion.

Hermione had already averted her eyes with Ron, pretending to be reading a passage in the book together, and Harry managed to do the same very shortly after, so Snape simply scoured the room and found no potential gifters in any of the gathered. He looked back down to the little blue bottle. He uncorked it, brought it up to his nose hesitantly (probably expecting a lungful of poisonous fumes, Harry thought), then with the same expression lowered it, corked it and carefully placed it back down on his desk.

Like Hermione, Harry couldn’t keep himself from smiling as he watched the Potions Master’s reaction. Snape looked blankly at the vial for a second longer, then a strange expression of bewilderment came over him: he dragged a hand down his face, pinched the bridge of his nose and began to massage his eyes. He looked impressively beaten. More befuddled than Harry had ever seen him, which was strange, for this was nothing but an apparent act of thoughtfulness - it was as though he had no idea how to react to it!

As the class began to unroll their parchments to copy down the writing on the blackboard and add notes, Snape’s eyes kept shooting reluctant glances towards the strange present on his desk. Once or twice he even picked it up with a strange look of calm and intrigue on his face to study it.

Harry couldn’t sit still, and from the looks of it, neither could Hermione and Ron. Ron kept snickering to himself; Hermione was pink with pleasure and often joined him in his quiet outbursts of laughter. Before the lesson was out, all three were in such high spirits that Neville looked unsettled, because whenever he caught their eye they beamed at him richly, then went back to their work smiling.

“Homework,” Snape called at the end of their lesson, back to his dark mood and expression. “I want you to place it on the front table as you walk out. Now, go.”

Harry withdrew his homework from his bag - this, he hadn’t forgotten since Hermione had checked both their bags thrice - along with Hermione and Ron. They packed up, put on their bags, then approached the desk together. All three parchments were unmistakably longer than anybody else’s and almost rolled off the table as they placed them on the pile. 

When they turned to Snape, his face was made of marble.

“See you later, sir,” Ron began. “Good lesson.”

“Have a good rest of your day, Professor Snape,” Hermione added.

“Thanks again for your help, Professor,” Harry finished with a polite nod, then turned and walked out.

As soon as they were out in the corridor and the door was shut, they all burst out, clutched at one another in excitement, hissing out observations and whispering:

“Blimey, did you see his face?” Ron chortled, punching Harry in the arm. “He was absolutely gob-smacked.”

“I bet he feels bad about taking points off you, now,” Hermione added, her teeth gleaming as she grinned. “But listen. In a sense, this is completely worth it.”

“Yeah, we couldn’t get him so out of it any other way if we tried,” Ron added with vehemence. “We’re closer to getting him to quit his job by being decent to him than by being awful. Did you see his face when he picked up Hermione’s vial?”

He pulled a face of bewilderment, doing such a good impression that they all burst out laughing as they rounded the corner, running straight into Professor McGonagall who raised an eyebrow at this buzzing of laughter and jovial mood which they were exhibiting.

“Good morning,” she said to them, clearly looking for an explanation which, unfortunately for her, she wasn’t going to get, for her recipients were having far too much fun in their enigmatical benevolence to provide it to her.

“Good morning, Professor McGonagall,” Hermione sang as they walked past. “You look really nice today!”

“Yeah, enjoy the nice weather, Professor,” Harry added, “while it lasts!”

“Have a good morning,” Ron added as they got out of earshot, then waved and turned back around.

Minerva McGonagall stared after them with her lips pursed, wondering whether to follow them to check whether any charms had been cast on them to put them in such a cheerful spell or to pen this strange enthusiasm as the aftereffect of something ridiculous. The former seemed most likely to be the case, since they had just come out of Potions, and as far as everybody was aware - unless something catastrophic had happened which had temporarily rendered the Potions Master a fool in their eyes - it wasn’t exactly their favourite lesson for obvious reasons.

She made up her mind a moment later, and after twitching the quill she was holding in two fingers, she directed her footsteps towards the dungeons and the Potion’s classroom to find out more about the state of affairs.

[andvys]

sooo... I saw that your requests are open so maybe something with Henderson!reader who secretly has a crush on Eddie/Steve (you know I love them both so it's your choice here 🤭) and she has a fight with Dustin and this little shrimp (with all the love Dusty-bun) and his big mouth scream in nerves something about said crush and of course Eddie/Steve hears it, happy ending here pretty please 🥹

of course you don't have to write it if you don't like the idea! no pressure here, hope you have an amazing day Andy 🩷

My only angel E.M.

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of unrequited feelings, mutual pining, happy ending of course, mostly fluff

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Henderson!Reader

Word count: 2.5K

Note: thank you for this request bestie! I loved writing it!

stranger things masterlist

-

You love your brother, you really do but that little shrimp, how Eddie likes to call him, can truly get on your nerves sometimes. You do anything for him, which is probably why he is so insatiable. You always spoiled him, that was probably your first mistake but you love getting him things that he loves so much, whether it’s new comics, books, movies or anything DnD related. A lot of your savings are spent on him, you know it’s not your job to get him all this stuff all the time but he is your little brother and you love seeing that big smile on his face whenever he gets excited about the things you get him. 

You drive him around when Steve is too busy to do it, you cook him lunch and dinner when your mom has no time to do it, you bake things for him and his friends and you let him host movie nights even though you love having the living room to yourself on Friday nights. 

You always say yes to him. 

But not this time. 

“Come on, are you serious?” Dustin exclaims, rolling his eyes at you as he follows you to your locker. 

“Very serious, Dustin!” 

“You can literally do it any other night, y/n!” 

Mike, Will and Lucas are tagging along with him, giving you their best puppy eyes. 

You open your locker, staring into blank space as you take a deep breath before you turn back around to look at the teens. 

“You know what? I’ve been waiting for this night for weeks! Mom is out of town, you were supposed to be at Mike’s place if I remember correctly and I was supposed to have the house to myself!” 

Mike furrows his brows, “why can’t you have your girls night at our place? You can have the basement,” he shrugs. 

“Yeah, the basement is nice!” Will smiles, though he doesn’t look like he wants to be a part of this argument. 

“Yeah, I’m sure Nancy and Robin would be fine with that,” Lucas says, giving you an unsure grin. 

“Exactly!” Dustin rolls his eyes. 

You tilt your head, “why don’t you host your DnD thing in your basement? That’s where you always used to play!” 

Dustin puts his hand on his forehead, “or you can just hang out in your room and we’ll have the living room to ourselves, that way we can all have what we want!”

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief, “I want the living room, in fact, I want the whole house to myself, for once!” 

Dustin scrunches his face up in confusion, “oh come on, y/n, please!” 

Mike and Lucas nod along, “please, we don’t want any parents around, they aren’t exactly fans of Eddie.” 

Your features soften a little, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by your little brother. 

You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest, you shake your head. You, Nancy and Robin have planned your only girls night for weeks, there is no way that you will let any boys interrupt it. 

“Nope.” 

Dustin’s face grows red, he rolls his eyes and throws his hands up, “son of a bitch,” he mumbles to himself, “is it because of your crush on Eddie? Are you scared that you will embarrass yourself when he’s around the way you always do?”

Your jaw drops and your eyes widen as you look at your brother. 

Mike’s eyes widen as well, he opens his mouth to say something but quickly closes it again when he sees the metalhead behind you, his expression mirroring yours. 

Will looks down, feeling sorry for you. 

Lucas cups his mouth, looking like he’s about to burst into laughter. 

Dustin’s face grows pale, regret flickering in his eyes when he sees the shocked and embarrassed look on your face and the surprised one on Eddie’s. 

“What?!” 

That’s the question you ask yourself, internally. That voice did not belong to you though, this is Eddie’s voice. 

Your blood runs cold and your stomach churns. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. Oh, how you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Your cheeks heat up and embarrassment rushes through you. 

Eddie, whose face is more flustered than ever, steps around you, staring at you with wide eyes, “y/n, is that the truth?” 

You can only imagine what he thinks and what he feels, you spare yourself the embarrassment of being rejected. You don’t look at him, you don’t even bother to answer the question, you slam your locker shut, “host your goddamn campaign, Dustin,” you spit before you walk away without sparing any of them a single look. 

Eddie’s big eyes follow you, watching you walk away with your head hung low. His heart skips a beat, butterflies swirling in his stomach. You have a crush on him? The girl he has been pining for, feels the same? 

“Dustin,” Will mumbles, “how can you embarrass your own sister like that?” He shakes his head. 

“Yeah, dude,” Lucas mumbles.

Mike scratches his head and glances at Eddie who looks awestruck.

“Shit,” Dustin mumbles, closing his eyes. 

Eddie finally turns to look at him, putting his hand on the teen’s shoulder, he looks down at him, “Henderson, is that the truth?” Eddie asks, “your sister has a crush on me– on me?” He points to himself in confusion. 

Mike and Lucas share a look, smirking a little. 

Dustin finally opens his eyes, looking nervously up at his dungeon master, he is unsure of what to say, not wanting to embarrass you any further, he shrugs. 

Lucas sighs, rolling his eyes at his friend, “yes, Eddie. She has a crush on you.” 

Mike nods, “yeah, she was actually talking about you with my sister.” 

Eddie looks at them, “really?” 

Dustin squints his eyes, taking in the excited look on Eddie’s face, “wait,” he mumbles, “do you like my sister?” 

Eddie swallows, cheeks growing red.

“Holy shit!” Dustin exclaims as the three teens start smirking at him but before any of them can say anything else, Eddie turns around and runs off just the way you did, leaving them all giggling. 

-

You and Eddie aren’t the closest friends, that is probably because of your huge crush on him. Dustin isn’t wrong, you do tend to embarrass yourself in front of him. 

Whenever he is around, you turn into a blushing mess, you barely manage to form a sentence when he talks to you, all he ever gets are short responses, shy smiles and little waves. The poor guy probably thinks you hate him but he really just makes you incredibly nervous. 

You always had a crush on him, from the first moment you had laid your eyes on him, you had a special place in your heart for the handsome metalhead, not knowing that he feels just the same. 

You never talked much to him, only when you sat next to each other during class or saw him outside of school but you weren’t brave enough to make the move to become his friend or anything more than that. 

When your brother befriended him and he started coming around, stealing your job of driving him around, he always left you a blushing mess. Eddie was always a flirt, throwing random pickup lines at you, gifting you a flower that he picked from your mother’s garden or someone else’s property, holding doors open for you or carrying your books to classes but you never thought much of it, you thought that he’s like that with every girl. 

He is not. 

You fear that, that is over now, that he is weirded out by your crush on him. Thanks to your brother and his big mouth, your day and the rest of your week is ruined. 

All day, you have been avoiding Eddie, trying your best to avoid eye contact. The thought of being confronted and rejected makes you feel both mortified and heartbroken. 

You successfully manage to get through the day without running into him again. Now, you’re alone in your room, sulking, listening to Tears for Fears and glaring at your diary, the one that Dustin must’ve read, how else would he know of your crush and your hopeless feelings for Eddie? 

A knock on your window pulls you out of your thoughts, startling you a little. You throw the ripped out pages on your bed and turn around, eyes widening when you see Eddie who stands in front of your window with a smile on his face, waving at you shyly.

Your heart begins to race, your eyes widen. Nervously, you make your way towards it, he purses his lips, staring at you in excitement. Sliding the window open, you lick your lips and take a deep breath, “h-hi?” You mumble nervously. 

He is not here to reject you is he? 

Eddie smiles and you just now notice the flowers in his hands.

Surely, a guy who is about to reject you, won’t show up with flowers and a smile on his face, right?

“Hello princess,” he grins, looking giddy as he eyes you. 

You blush at the pet name, breaking eye contact, you look down. 

“Can I come in?” 

You nod and step aside to let him in, you dig your nails into your palms, a nervous habit that you have picked up on, years ago. You look down at yourself, growing incredibly flustered when you realize that you’re only wearing a big shirt and underwear. 

He climbs inside and shuts the window before he turns around to face you, he can’t even fight the smile off his face when he sees how nervous you are, “here, these are for you,” he whispers, holding out the flowers for you. 

Your eyes light up, looking up at him, you notice the excitement in his dark eyes, his plump lips are set in a bright smile. 

You reach for the flowers, your fingertips graze his knuckles as you take the flowers from him, “thank you,” you smile, glancing at the pink and yellow flowers, “those are not from mom’s garden,” you giggle. 

Eddie shakes his head, “no, they’re not,” he smiles, “I picked them out just for you, there’s a huge field of flowers close to Lover’s Lake,” he explains. He licks his lips, looking around the room that he has only passed by whenever he came over to pick up Dustin, “maybe I could take you there…. tomorrow? To Lover’s Lake, I mean.” 

Your heart flutters in your chest, excitement bubbling in your stomach. 

“To do what?” You ask, tilting your head, “isn’t that like a popular makeout spot?” 

His eyes widen and he chuckles, “no, according to all the jocks at school, skull rock is a popular makeout spot,” he says, stepping closer to you, he smiles as he watches you smelling the flowers, “but we could always make Lover’s Lake a new makeout spot, just for us, of course.” 

Your eyes widen even more, your cheeks grow incredibly hot. 

Your reaction makes him smirk, a sense of pride rushing through him for being so ‘smooth’. 

You giggle, forgetting all about the embarrassment and the fear you have felt before.

“Just for us?” 

He steps even closer to you, bringing his hand up, he brushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ear, “I wouldn’t want to take any other girl there, sweetheart,” he says, eyes softening, “but you gotta stop running away from me, I’ve been trying to catch you all day.” 

You draw your brows together and look up at him with big eyes, it makes him weak in the knees. 

“Tell me, is that little shrimp telling the truth?” He asks with big and hopeful eyes. 

You blink, your breathing quickens and you grow nervous all over again. 

“If he is, then I’d be the happiest and luckiest man in the world, princess.” 

Your heart leaps to your throat, you can’t believe it. 

“Really?” You breathe. 

He nods with a large smile on his face. 

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m like really obsessed with you,” he admits, cheeks redder than ever. 

“Wait what?” 

He chuckles, shaking his head as he cups your cheek, “I thought, I made it pretty obvious.” 

Not only does Eddie use every opportunity to talk to you, to spend time with you, he also creates DnD characters based on you, he drives around Hawkins, searching for the perfect flowers for you, he picks up Dustin just so he can see you, even if it’s only for one minute, he does anything to see you and to be with you and he explains all that to you, leaving you standing there with a shocked and awestruck look on your face. 

“I-I thought you do that for every girl,” you admit. 

“Never!” Eddie frowns, “I only want one girl,” he says as he reaches for your hand, bringing it up to his lips, he keeps looking into your eyes as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, “I only want you, sweetheart. So, will you take pity on my cynical heart and do me the honor and go on a date with me?” He asks, dramatically and with a teasing look in his eyes. 

Your giggle makes his soul happy.

Eddie is so crazy about you. He loves your beautiful voice, it always makes his heart flutter. He loves your sweet smile. He loves the way you get so flustered whenever he just looks at you. He loves your perfume. He loves the way you make him feel. The way you have always been so good and sweet to him, the way you always make him smile and happy, even on his worst days.

You're his angel.

“I would love to go on a date with you, Eddie Munson,” you smile. 

“Really?” He exclaims happily. 

“Yes!” 

He fist bumps the air before he scoops you up in his arms and twirls you around, giggling at the squeal that leaves your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck, still holding the flowers in your hands. 

“This is the best day of my life,” he whispers when he places you back on the ground, giving you a toothy grin, he can’t even help himself, leaning closer, he kisses your cheek, “can’t believe that your little brother made it the best day.” 

“You should’ve asked me out before,” you whisper. 

“Sweetheart, I didn’t think you were into me, I feel like I’ve been flirting with you for months!” 

“I didn’t think you were flirting!” 

“Wasn’t I obvious?” 

You shrug, “I thought that you were just a flirt!” 

He scoffs, putting his hands on the small of your back, he pulls you tightly against him, “only for you.” 

You smile at him. Raising your hand, you run your fingers through his hair and push it back, reaching for one of the smaller flowers in your little bouquet, you pick it out and tuck the stem behind his ear. 

Eddie chuckles at your action but his heart flutters when you lean in and kiss his cheek. 

“You’re pretty, Eddie.” 

“Yeah?” He asks, blushing. 

You nod. 

“I think you’re prettier,” he whispers, smiling at you, “you’re the prettiest.” 

“No, that’s you.” 

“No, you!” 

Neither of you notice the hushed whispers outside of your door, too busy and focused on each other.

“Oh, they’re so gross already,” Dustin mumbles with a disgusted look on his face. 

Lucas and Mike giggle. 

“I think, they’re super cute,” Will smiles with a happy look on his face. 

“I think Eddie will come over for something other than the campaign this weekend,” Lucas says, wiggling his brows. 

Dustin groans, shaking his head, “ew!” 

[overtake]

a black lace bralette 💜

CW: Infidelity through unintentional but also definitely intentional sexting

Max doesn’t send Daniel the photo deliberately.

Kelly watched too many videos about minimalism, got inspired, and is doing a massive closet clean out. Their bedroom is littered with fabric. Max doesn’t even know how half these items even fit on a human body. They’re a confusing mess of zippers and strings.

Kelly gave up on asking his opinion about three dresses in — somehow, “you look beautiful,” is the wrong answer when you say it more than once, and she banished him to the sim.

“I’m going to drop some of these off with friends and get dinner with them,” she says, holding up a bag of clothes and giving him a quick kiss. “Would you mind just taking the rest of the clothes and putting them in a box?”

Max rolls his neck and shoulders, then dutifully stands up from his chair. “Of course.”

She thanks him with another kiss then floats out the door. Max probably won’t see her for at least a few hours, but he’d rather get this out of the way quickly so he can get back to gaming.

He grabs an abandoned cardboard box and begins recklessly throwing things in, paying no mind to his work until his fingers catch on the neat edges of lace tucked inside a silky pink dress.

He carefully picks the item out and examines it, trying to determine if this was included deliberately or not. It’s a delicate black bralette with a pretty little flower detail over the place nipples would sit. He’s never seen Kelly wear this, and for good reason. The band is visibly too wide for her small frame, which means he should definitely toss it in the box. There are tags on it and everything.

He swallows, then tosses it back on the bed. It doesn’t hurt to double check, just in case.

When the bed is clear, he carefully spreads the fine lace over the stark white sheets and takes a photo. He keeps the tag in the frame so she can see the size.

Max Verstappen: This was tucked inside a dress. Looks big enough to fit me 😂 Keep or donate?

He attaches the photo and clicks send, then very intentionally does not check his phone again until after he’s closed up the box and heated up some dinner.

Daniel Ricciardo: Well. If you’re asking me, keep.

Daniel Ricciardo: I’d have to see it on first. It is your size after all …

Daniel Ricciardo: Might look good under this year’s polos

Max drops his fork with a clang and scrolls up to see that yeah, he’d clicked into his text thread with Daniel instead of Kelly. Amazing. Beautiful.

With Daniel, acting embarrassed about it would only make the situation worse. The best move with him, 100% of the time, is to lean into it.

He checks the time, then Kelly’s location. They haven’t even made it to a restaurant yet. Her dot is still firmly inside her friend’s building. She doesn’t always get his friendship with Daniel and the kind of humour they share, and this one would be especially tough to explain if she walked in on it.

He cuts one last look to the front door then slithers back to the bedroom. He yanks out one of the several navy polos hanging on his sparse side of the closet and tosses it onto the bed alongside the wrinkled shirt he was just wearing.

He reaches out three fingers and scoops up the bralette with them, letting it dangle in the air as he tries to figure out how to put it on. There’s no clasp, just some kind of elastic, so he figures he just has to pull it on over his head.

He adjusts it in his hands so the small triangles face the front, then goes for it. He gets a little tangled up in it first try, has to pull it back up to successfully place a complicated x-shape across his back, but he gets it settled. It’s a bit too tight on him, but it fits.

He adjusts the bra so everything is settled correctly and sitting right, then tugs the polo on without daring to look down at the lace on its own.

He pulls up the thread with Daniel, opens the camera, and takes a picture with the shirt tugged open just enough to see the black straps peeking out.

Max Verstappen: What do you think? Will I be best-dressed?

Daniel sends something back almost immediately, which is unusual for him. He’s normally a slow texter.

Daniel Ricciardo: Think I have to see it without the polo to really decide. Very fashion-forward, though.

Max’s body is warm all over, small beads of sweat starting to collect in the pits of his shirt. He can’t explain what comes over him. He moves on instinct, no thought, no consideration of what the existence of a picture like this could do to him if it got leaked.

He props up his phone on the bed, pulls off the polo, and sits in front of the camera. He’s learned a few things in his years as an Instagram boyfriend, and the self-timer is one. He clicks the three-second option and leans his torso forward a little so the bralette takes up more of the frame.

He can see it now, the full effect. The bra being too tight means it pushes the extra fat on his pecs closer together. His arms are pressed against his side, which furthers the effect of his barely-there-but-definitely-there tits. The black lace is a harsh contrast to his pale skin, but the flushed pink on his neck and chest soften it a little. The band digs into his flesh, but it doesn’t look bad on camera.

His athletic shorts look dumb in comparison, he thinks. He crops the photo just below the soft curve of hips, enough to cut out the mesh but keep his full upper body in the frame. The photo doesn’t capture his face — he’s not totally stupid, even if this photo is only going to Daniel — but you can see the barest hint of his unshaven stubble.

Max Verstappen: So? Think the team will go for it?

He watches Daniel type, then stop, then type again. It goes on for one minute, two, three, before he finally gets a voice memo. It’s only four seconds long, but he drops his phone on the bed and lets it play from there.

Daniel clearly has his retainer in, his words slightly lisped in that distinct way they do when his tongue hits plastic.

“I think you should bring that to Baku,” he says. He sounds like he’s aiming for a joke, and is halfway there, but his voice is straining at the end of the sentence.

Max lets out one long, shuddering breath. The lace feels too restrictive, indenting his skin like damning proof instead of an elaborate joke. He pulls it off, then crumbles the material and stuffs it inside the polo on his bed so he doesn’t have to look at it any longer.

He has to answer. He can’t leave Daniel on read, with this half-serious thing sitting between them, but he also can’t play it off entirely. It’s not — he’s happy. He’s in a good, healthy relationship with someone he loves. He stopped letting himself wonder about Daniel years ago, gave into the reality that Daniel’s jokes would never mean as much as Max used to think they might.

Max Verstappen: Maybe I will, maybe I won’t

Max Verstappen: You’ll have to get my polo off on Thursday to see 😜

He searches the emoji keyboard for wink, selects one with extreme caution. He thinks it strikes the correct balance of joking and flirty.

Daniel types, then stops, then types all over again.

Daniel Ricciardo: I love a challenge. See you Thursday.

The conversation ends there. Max finishes his now-cold dinner, tapes up the box for donation, and joins his friends for a few quick rounds of FIFA. He doesn’t tell Kelly about the bra and doesn’t delete the photo from his phone. Instead, he takes the polo with the black lace inside, opens the corner of his already-packed suitcase, and stuffs it inside.

[1-800-c3dr1c]

Sooo, let's try this ask thing haha. I was wondering if u cute write a super fluff where reader is friends with coryo and tigris and they let reader into the secret that they've almost got no food at home. Reader then brings them food or invites them over regularly and coriolanus is super thankful + embarrassed at the same time and reader assures him that its alright and happy to help and over time they both confess they like each other more than just friends?

YOUNG! CORIOLANUS SNOW FLUFF ONESHOT.

spoilers for the ballad of songbirds and snakes. spoilers for coriolanus’ backstory. gender-neutral reader. friends with mutuals feelings to lovers.

requests are: open! please look at the pinned post for characters i will write for. <3 let me know if you’d like to be in m tag list for whenever i post anything related to young! coriolanus snow under this post as well, or in my inbox.

i hope you liked this oneshot! i love love LOVE writing fluff, so thank you so much for requesting it!!

word count: 541

it had surprised you when one of your best friends, coriolanus snow, had asked you if he could tell you a secret. he nearly pleaded with you not to tell anyone else about it before he did, and when you promised over and over again that you wouldn’t, he finally took you to his house.

due to his family having been very popular and seemingly well-liked back during the war, this had been a stark contrast to what you had been expecting. he lived with tigris and his grandma’am, which you had known. however, what you hadn’t known was the fact that his fridge was nearly empty every single night, if not completely empty.

it was as if tigris had known you were coming, based upon the solemn expression she wore when you and coriolanus walked through the door. she could only smile sadly at you, and you could only walk over to her and place your hand on her shoulder, quietly reassuring her and coriolanus that you would help them.

and you did. you consistently invited them (including the grandma’am) to your house for dinner, making them delicious food and making sure that all three of them were well-fed. they would always profusely thank you, unable to do much else. sometimes, the grandma’am would slip a white rose behind your ear when you walked them to the door after dinner, and it always made you smile softly.

until that changed. one day, it hadn’t been the grandma’am to step forward again to slip a rose behind your ear as you had expected. it was coriolanus. you blinked at him, unspeaking as he carefully caught your chin with two fingers, angling your head slightly so that it was easier for him to slip the rose right behind your ear.

you didn’t move as he stepped back, looking behind him at tigris and the grandma’am. they both nodded to him before beginning to walk off, whereas he stayed right in front of you, just a few steps away. he swallowed thickly, and suddenly you could see how.. nervous he seemed to be?

“i have something to tell you,” he blurted out, his face flushing slightly in embarrassment.

“hm? what’s wrong, corio?” you asked softly. “are you guys running low on food again? i can start making more-” you started to say quickly, before he quickly cupped your cheek with a hand.

“that’s not what i wanted to talk about.” his voice was quiet, his nerves seeping through the words.

“..then what did you want to talk about?” now you were confused.

“i told you i had something to tell you. well.. i’m just going to outright say it. i like you.” he inhaled deeply, and it looked as if he was preparing himself for a rejection.

however, the opposite happened. you leaned forward, kissing his cheek softly. “i like you too, corio.”

coriolanus froze where he was. had he just heard you correctly? you liked him too. a sudden giddy feeling erupted in his stomach, a stupid smile on his face. “can i..”

he didn’t finish his question, as you kissed him softly, already knowing that had been what he wanted to ask. before you pulled away, you whispered a soft. “yes.”

[eyelessfaces]

uncalled for

summary: you get quite upset when poe "saves" your assigned mission by giving orders to your teams without consulting you; poe is determined to fix his mistake.

warnings: (public) arguing, talks of the future; family and having kids

tags: gn!reader, angst, being parents to bb8, fluff, this ends up being real sweet tbh

word count: 1.7k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

(uh yeah I'm back if you even noticed I was gone lol. I might just post this and disappear again for a little longer idk but anyways I'll explain the reason whenever I'm back for good; I'm okay don't worry, and I'm still gonna post fics don't worry it's nothing too serious fr)

It causes a disruption when you both barge into the hangar; despite the constant clattering and whirring of tools and material there, both your bitter shoutings have been overlapping the sounds ever since Poe started following you closely, right from the moment you hastily jumped out of your x wing to try to forget about the awful management of your mission that would probably cost you to never get to lead one again. 

“It was my call, not yours” you affirm bitterly, voice dripping with resentment, your steps heavy and hurried as you try to shake Poe off but he is anything if not persevering, so it only manages to piss you off even more and fuel your frustration. “I didn’t need you to save my mission or whatever,” you exclaim, causing heads to turn as you walk across the large room, barely minding what is going on around you. 

“I did because I knew it would work!” Poe tries to explain, still heeling you closely. “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure it would be successful” he declares louder than he needs to, thrown off when you suddenly stop in your steps, turning to him.

“So you think you can make decisions for me? You think I can’t do it, can’t command a mission correctly?” you rhetorically ask, revolted, sighing a profanity under your breath before you storm off again, your steps resonating with frustration. Poe sighs and winces before he follows you again, taking a hold of your arm.

“Babe come on you know that’s not–”

You stop again, your patience running short. “You had no right to encroach on my orders, I knew what I had to do, and you stepping in with your own instructions could have blown the whole mission up!” you call out, pressing a finger to his chest. 

It’s when you finally take a moment to take a look at his face that you realize it, what is going on; you are being the center of attention, the little show everyone stopped their current task to sit and watch, your every word carefully awaited by your unwanted audience. 

You sigh softly, taking a moment to step back from the situation. “Now leave me alone before we embarrass ourselves further or before I tell you things I don’t really mean just because I’m angry and don’t wanna talk to you” you hiss softly before leaving Poe in the middle of the busy room where he watches you walk away, helplessly standing there. 

When he looks around him, most people turn away and avert their gazes to pretend they haven’t witnessed anything, and Poe is well too aware of the tension still lingering in the air even as you exit the room.

When Jessika climbs down from her ladder after watching the scene from her cockpit, BB-8 rolls over to her and chirps sadly, having observed yours and Poe’s argument from afar just like most of the hangar after his master went running after you. She kneels down to the droid’s level, giving him a sympathetic smile.

“That’s gonna be fine Beebs, they always end up figuring it out somehow” she affirms as the droid’s upper part sinks in distress accompanied by saddened beeps. Jessika can’t help but smile fondly at him and his obvious concern, at the fact that he quite literally acts like you are his parents.

—

A few hours have passed when Poe joins you again; you don't notice him at first, having made sure to get focused enough on your paperwork to forget about the whole situation and try to ease the frustration within you. It's only when you put your datapad down that you see him leaning against the door frame.

“You're so pretty when you're focused” he smiles gently when your eyes meet his figure, causing you to roll your eyes and reluctantly smile at his words despite your lingering frustration. 

“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh softly as you try to hide your slight smirk, gaze darting back down to enter numbers into your datapad.

He acknowledges your feelings with a nod, his lips pressed together in a tight line. “I know.” he admits, stepping into the room. “That’s why I’m here” You look back up at him, taking a deep breath as you set your datapad aside; despite the fact that everything he did since you wrapped your mission up got on your nerves, deep down you only wish for this to situation to get figured out and eventually be behind the both of you. You join him in front of your desk, leaning against it.

“I knew what I was doing. I was handling it” you affirm before he even gets the chance to do so much as open his mouth.

He holds a hand up to slow you down. “I know,” he nods understandingly. “I shouldn’t have redirected the plan, I should have trusted you. I was just afraid things would go wrong considering how it was all starting to go down so quickly” he explains. “I know I could have fucked it all up, everything you put in place so the mission could go right” you slightly tilt your head to the side in agreement. 

“And I know my move was probably a lot more dangerous than the plan you had in mind to make everything right but you know I would never put you or our teams in danger, only myself” he declares with a concerned nod, causing your expression to soften. “You, never. I would never risk it, no matter what” there’s a soft frown over his face as his eyes flicker with sincerity, his confession making your heart ache as it hangs in the air before he talks again. “And I never doubted your ability to command a mission.” 

You nod with a heavy sigh, acknowledging his apology. “I should apologize too. I shouldn't have lashed out on you like that either.” you admit and nod sheepishly, reflecting on your impulsive behavior. “I really wanted this mission to go right”

“For what it’s worth,” he starts with a small smile, trying to dissimulate a bigger one. “I talked about it with Leia and she thinks you did pretty good” his declaration doesn’t fail to draw an appreciative smile from you, one that makes him mirror your action. “And she thinks we would work great together”

“And I agree,” you reply, finally feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as the tension between you begins to dissipate. “We do make a good team.”

Poe’s smile widens, relieved to see you loosen up a bit. “Yeah, we do” he agrees with a small huff, stepping closer to you. “I just hate seeing you so worked up.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “I hate getting worked up,” you scoff. 

“I’ll try to think about it twice next time,” Poe promises, reaching out to gently take your hand in his. “I don’t want to step on your toes or make you feel like I don’t trust you or your judgment.”

Your fingers intertwine with his, the warmth of his touch calming you further. “Well I’ll try not to snap at you,” you promise in return, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as you let your head rest against his chest with a small, barely audible sigh. “Especially not in front of everyone,” you mutter, earning an amused chuckle from him. You melt into his touch as he leans to press a gentle kiss over your forehead, his hand that is not holding yours coming to wrap around you.

It is only after you pull away from his embrace and leave a chaste kiss to his lips that the corner of your eye notices a sort of spy in the corner of the door frame.

“What’s he doing here” 

Poe frowns before he turns around, huffing out a laugh when he notices BB-8 peeking out the door. “How long have you been here?” he jokingly scolds his droid that fully reveals himself now that he has been caught. “You know he doesn’t like when we fight” he softly sighs turning back to you, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes before he looks at BB rolling over the both of you.

You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile at BB-8’s presence. “Very sweet of him to be looking out for us,” you start, reaching out to pat the droid’s dome affectionately. “But maybe he should learn not to eavesdrop.”

BB-8 chirps playfully, obviously pleased with the attention, seemingly eager to be a part of the reconciliation.

Poe chuckles, kneeling down to scratch behind BB-8’s sensor with a fond smile. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll work on that,” he says before glancing back at you with a soft smile. “He's our kid, he’s been worried sick about us, weren't you?” he turns to BB, who's beeping frantically in agreement.

You glance at him, then back at Poe, a softness settling in your chest at the sight of them together, your little family. “Our first kid, yeah” you smile softly, heart fluttering inside your chest.

“First? Meaning there's gonna be more?” Poe asks with a playful smile, getting back on his feet. He raises his eyebrows as he awaits your response, and you both laugh at the sudden change of atmosphere as Poe wraps a hand around you before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You huff out a laugh at his quick jump to conclusion, “I don't know, you're a pretty good dad to this one,” you shrug.

“A couple hours ago I was dead to you and now we're talking having kids” he laughs into your hair, a teasing tone in his voice. 

“You weren’t even close to being dead to me, you’re so dramatic Poe” you declare with a small scoff, poking his chest lightly. “That’s the reason Beebs loves you so much” you tease, making him huff out a laugh. “I’d say we should focus on surviving one parenting experience first,” you chuckle looking down at BB-8, nudging Poe playfully. “But who knows what the future holds?”

Poe grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement as his arm grasps tighter around his hold on you. “As long as I have you by my side, I'm up for anything babe.”

—

reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!

star wars masterlist: @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @unear7hly

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙜 ♡︎

anon asked: i have a request!! male!dom!reader and sub!scara with ton of overstim and dacryphillia with maybe a bit of begging too? the rest is up to you!!

characters: sub!scaramouche x male!dom!reader

warnings: dacryphillia, overstimulation, begging, praise, degrading, brat taming, cockwarming, bondage, hair tugging, oral fixation, dumbification

notes: i’m kinda surprised that ppl actually req male readers to me cue me remembering the fiasco with the anon who said i should stop tagging my works as male reader akdjjsn

also anon pls come forward and clarify which one you are so i can properly tag if ur already an emoji anon that is cuz i forgor

you love your darling wanderer, you swear! but you just can’t hell but get a little ticked off at his mean words, crude remarks and bratty attitude. huffing when you explain to him that you have work to do, forcibly showing himself on your lap with a “pay attention to me!” type of look and yet now he doesn’t want it when he finally gets what he was begging for?

just as you were finally starting to focus on your current task at hand, a low whine is heard from under your desk. looking down at the culprit, you gave him a small ruffle to his head.

there he was! your sweet boyfriend with his hand tied behind his back, eyes hazy with tears brimming in them, face flushed the deepest shade of red with his whiny mouth swallowing your cock down his throat. fuck he can’t think… he couldn’t even breathe correctly with your cock forcing his jaw wide open, mushroom tip hitting the back of his throat as he tried not to gag and choke.

“just a few more papers, darling. i’m almost done” giving a few gentle pats to his head, you pulled your hand away before focusing on the papers in your hand. scribbling down something on the projects, declining, accepting some preferences and signing your signature on the ends of the paper until someone broke your concentration.

looking back down under your desk, you saw wanderer lightly bobbing his head up and down on your cock. sliding his tongue under some noticeable veins, whimpering at the taste of your precum, he just couldn’t help but act so greedy like an animal in heat.

fisting at his short locks, you pulled him off of your member as he gasped. drool slipping from his mouth, a thin saliva connecting the angry red tip of your cock to his bruised lips. panting, breathing heavily, he opened and closed his mouth over and over to try and ease the sore muscles.

“are you trying to get me angry, kuni?” holding his chin in your hand, you gave his cheeks a light warning squeeze. at your question wanderer tried to answer, failing as a long drawn whine escapes the back his throat with a tear falling down his cheek at being denied the sweet, creamy taste of your cum.

he was a lost cause. tiny hips bucking in the air as his bare body shivered - from excitement? cold? you didn’t know - alongside his small cock flopping helplessly against his stomach.

“p-please? please [name]… i need more~!” a lecherous sounding noise between a whine and a mewl escapes his mouth as more tears fell down his plush cheeks.

“more? more what?” feigning innocence at his pleas, you couldn’t help the growing smirk on your face. brats needs to be punished for their misbehaviors after all and it seems like this is the best form of punishment for your brat.

the puppet couldn’t help but blush at your words. he wanted to ask for what he wanted but it was just so shameful. a former fatui harbinger, a puppet of a god - being reduced to a mewling mess who pleads for his lover’s cock? this was too embarrassing! he has pride to keep and name to uphold!

at his silence, your grin grew more wider as your hand holding his cheek gets a bit tighter as a warning. he keened at that, trying to paw at your hand to ask for your mercy but his hands were tied tightly behind him with a pretty navy blue satin cloth. only the best for your darling of course.

taking a deep, stuttered breath he looked up at you through his messed up bangs. dilated, heart shaped pupils staring up at you with greed and lust, he pushed his chin up to your crotch as much as he could with the restraint that is your hand.

“please…? give me more of your cock” whispering breathlessly in a hushed manner as if he was sharing the most darkest secrets with you, wanderer took a quick glance at your dripping slit.

wet with saliva from his previous cockwarming, twitching here and there with your translucent colored precum dripping from the slit as wanderer gulped. hot bubbling lava swirling around in his stomach as he imagined your delicious seeds shooting into his mouth and down his throat, he let out a soft whimper at his fantasy, rubbing his thighs together to try and give his small cocklet some friction.

“since you asked so nicely, say aah~” teasing him more, you tugged his mouth close to your member as he eagerly kissed the mushroom tip with his blush darkening. licking up the visible veins around your girth before the puppet opened up his small mouth, happily pushing your cock into his mouth until he gagged halfway in. but that didn’t stop him as the short male forced his jaw open wider, swallowing up each and every inch with choked sobs and gurgled moans until his nose snuggled up close to your crotch with your member sitting heavily, heavenly down his throat.

ahh, if wanderer were to die with your dick sitting snuggly down his mouth as he gagged and cried, he wouldn’t mind it at all.

taking in a deep breath through his nose, he braced himself before starting to bob his head. starting out slow, dragging his tongue under the girthy muscles your boyfriend choked as he felt your cock push all the way back into his uvula.

however that didn’t stop him as wanderer only sped up the movements of his head, forcing himself to swallow your member as his mind slips off. only your scent surrounding him, your groans and huffs blessing his ears, your dick filling him up - you you you you!

harshly tugging on his purple locks, you pushed his mouth all the way to swallow up your cum as you groaned out loudly into the air. wanderer didn’t mind it, in fact he loved it as he swallowed every single drop happily. blush darkening more, spreading into his shoulders as he finally got what he wanted.

pushing his mouth off, you manhandled your short boyfriend to lay on the bed. red eyeliner ruined as he cried - from bliss? happiness? pleasure? pain? you didn’t know and neither did he - drool slipping down his jawline without a trace of your cum, pretty purple eyes hazy with their pupils dilated to the brim you couldn’t even see the colors and cheeks a beautiful shade of red.

slipping a hand between his quivering thighs you pushed them open, revealing his doughy skin tainted with his own fluids covering them. did he seriously cum from just sucking you off? how cute♡︎.

pulling the small dildo pushed into his hole, you ignored his miserable whines of feeling empty before filling him up again with your own cock - oddly feeling jealous and possessive of him over the stupid toy - making him let out a happy squeal at the fullness.

without giving him any time to catch his breath or get his bearings back together, you held his plush waist in a bruising grip before ramming into his hole.

“aaANNH! [NAME]!! shogoOD — SHOGOODSHOGOOD❤︎︎❤︎︎!!” whining over and over about how good it feels, how your cock is rearranging his guts, how your molding his ass to be perfectly in your shape and whatsoever, wanderer let out a sobbing mewl as you came inside him. but you weren’t satisfied. you wanted to fill him up more.

the next morning your neighbors complained about the noises your darling lover made causing his face to heat up in embarrassment. maybe you should muzzle him next time♡︎.

[cpidsworld]

𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍? - ATSUMU MIYA

WORD COUNT - 2.9K

pairing: tattoo artist!atsumu miya x fem!reader

synopsis: your friend reccomended you a new tattoo artist. she said she adored his work ethic, and he was easy on the eyes. not that the latter part of her statement swayed you in any way, you made your way down to the foxy tattoo and piercing studio. you had gotten tattoo's before, that wasn't the problem, you didn't mind the pain aspect at all, or maybe you liked it a litte too much. the problem was, being stuck with your tattoo artist's hand on your waist as he tattooed on your ribcage.

warnings: semi-public sex, fingering in the tattoo chair, hair pulling, panties being used as a gag, rough sex, degradation, crying because of too much pleasure, breeding, overstim, praise, mentions of exhibitionism, orgasm control, atsumu fucks the reader while he's on the phone (lemme know if i missed any)

a/n: merry christmas ya filthy animals. was gonna post this earlier but family came over. i also rushed the end but i still think this is a good comeback for my blog. also i hope i tagged everyone correctly that commented and if you wanted to be tagged and just liked the post m'sorey and i hope the post makes it to you!! n e ways, happy reading <3

haikyuu masterlist | main masterlist

you've been going to the same tattoo studio for the past couple of years. you knew the owner so in your eyes, he was the safest bet to getting a good tattoo. that changed when your friend showed you the most recent work she had done. she sent you a picture of a gorgeous back tattoo she'd gotten done and a glowing review of the tattoo artist. 

"he was so polite and friendly, the service was amazing, and he's easy on the eyes." 

you didn’t really have a reason to try someone new, but here you were walking towards the foxy tattoo and piercing parlour. if you were being honest, you didn’t need to get a tattoo or change tattoo artists, but maybe a little change could be good.

as you walk through the glass tinted doors your eyes widen at the interior. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have much expectations for the inside, but you were proven wrong. there was a small desk in the front, while the rest of the loft-like area was filled with artwork. there were couches scattered around the work areas. It seemed as though the front area was where the piercings took place and in the back you could see the tattoo chair with all the equipment around it. 

while you were taking in your surroundings you hadn’t noticed a grey haired man walk behind the front desk. he clears his throat just a little to get your attention which instantly has you turning your head towards him.

“you okay? y’seem a little dumbstruck.”

he chuckles quietly to himself and you feel your cheeks start to burn in embarrassment. you’d probably looked like a kid who’s never set foot in a candy store, oogling at all the things their little eyes could see. he could see the pink on your cheeks before reassuring you that you’re fine.

“so, what brings ya here today?”

“i’ve got an appointment for a tattoo today, with an…atsumu miya?”

the grey haired man nods and checks on the computer to verify your appointment. he then gets up off the chair before yelling to who i assumed to be atsumu, to come out and do his job. not too long after a man who looked exactly like the one in front of you, except for the difference in hair colour. your mildly confused little brain put two and two together and figured out they were twins.

“twins, huh?”

“been stuck with him since the womb. i’m osamu by the way, and that over there as ya might already know is atsumu.”

your eyes trail up to the man infront of you as he introduces himself. he was wearing a black tank top that showed off his muscular arms, as well as the tattoos that adorned them. Your gaze tailed up to his face as he looked at you with his chocolate brown eyes. your friend wasn’t wrong when she said he was easy on the eyes.

“hi. i’m atsumu. nice ta meetcha.”

you greeted him back before he led you to the back area of the store where the he sat down, motioning you to sit on the tattoo chair.

“so, what are we doin’ for ya today?”

“i was thinking of getting a tattoo on my ribcage. barbed wire actually.”

he smiled a little, drawing something on the page in front of him. he was done, and he moved his chair closer to you and placed his clipboard on your lap. you looked at the drawing he had done, a slightly curved line of barbed wire that looked like it could fit perfectly on your body. he watched as you studied his drawing, his eyes searching for your approval. 

when you looked up at him, his eyes were already on you causing the heat from earlier to slowly creep onto your face again. you quickly averted your eyes and went back to looking at the drawing.

“it’s perfect.”

he smiled before asking you to sit up properly in the chair. your eyes were on him as he moved closer to you, as his hands ghosted over the side of your body. 

“right or left side.”

“right.”

he nodded as he moved to sit on the right side of you, hands on the chair next to you.

“may i?”

he asked as his hands were about to touch the side of your body, and you slowly nodded. his hands went to your ribcage,testing out possible placement of the tattoo. when his hands went a bit higher, just grazing the underside of your breast you let out a shaky breath. he glanced up at you and smirked a little.

after a few more changes you settled on a placement, and atsumu got straight into creating the stencil. not too long after that, osamu had announced he was going on a break and left to the back of the store, where atsumu had emerged earlier. 

once osamu was gone, you were acutely aware of how alone you two were in the store. you couldn't keep your eyes off atsumu as he worked. his muscles flexing slightly while he finished up the stencil. 

when he was done, he moved back towards you as he adjusted the chair you were sitting it to be horizontal for you to lay back in.

"if ya want you can lift yer shirt f'me, or if it's more comfortable, ya can take it off."

he said this nonchalantly as he was prepping the tools he needed for your tattoo, getting everything onto the silver table next to where he was going to work. you gulped slightly, not knowing whether to take your shirt off or not, so you ended up just taking the right arm out of your shirt, essentially having half of your shirt off, showing off the pretty lace bra you wore. 

when he turned back to you in order to place the stencil on, his eyes trailed over your exposed skin before mentally kicking himself for staring. he inched in closer as he asked you to raise your arm for him to get a better angle. he gently placed the stencil on the decided spot, massaging it with his right hand while his left hand rested on your waist, using it as leverage to help get the stencil on better. 

he didn’t realise his fingers were slightly caressing your side as he held you in place, but your body was suddenly hypersensitive and all you could feel were his fingers on your body. your thighs instinctively came together, unintentionally rubbing together. atsumu’s eyes trailed over your body down to your legs, where you were clenching your thighs, before looking up at you, without moving his hands an inch.

you avoided his gaze, unsure of how looking at him right now would affect your heart rate. you suddenly feel atsumu’s hand move higher up your waist, inching closer to your breast. your eyes snapped towards his, trying to gauge his reaction. you thought it was a bit cliche to have fantasies of fucking your tattoo artist, and if you were being honest, your previous tattoo artist wasn’t anything to write home about, moreover, he was your friend, but atsumu was a complete stranger. he was a sexy stranger who had his hand trailing up the side of your body, while maintaining eye contact with you.

you could feel the heat in your cheeks for the third time today, not sure how to deal with the situation. you weren’t opposed to it, but you were basically out in the open, where anyone could walk in.

“ya okay sweetheart? i can stop if yer not okay-”

“i’m okay. please don’t stop.”

and that’s all it took for atsumu to get up from his seat and push you back onto the tattoo chair, your back hitting the soft leather as atsumu’s arms were on either side of your head. his face was close to yours, his hot breath fanning over your face. your breath was hot and heavy, trying to wrap your head around the current situation. his eyes were scanning over your face, looking for any signs that you might not want this, but when he found none, he leaned down and kissed you, slow at first, getting to know and feel how your lips felt against his, before he picked up the pace, slowly licking your bottom lip and biting it a little to get access to your tongue. his hands found purchase on your hips as he grinds your body against his, eliciting a quiet moan from you, giving him just the access he needs to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. he kissed you so fervently, wanting to know every part of you, every crevice of your mouth, before pulling away slowly, your bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

one of atsumu’s hands trailed down from your hips to the waistband of the shorts you wore, before slipping past the threshold. his fingers lazily found their way to your puffy lips before he swiped them along your slit.

“already wet f’me? what a little slut.”

your body bucked into his hand, your hole clenching around nothing at the name. you were wet, soaking even, and he wasn’t helping. his middle finger prodded at your entrance before pushing inside you, his thumb drawing lazy circles on your clit. your hands made their way to his hair, gripping it slightly as his pace increased. you gasped as you felt him add a second finger, a shiver of pleasure running up your spine. you tried to hold back your moans, not wanting to risk getting caught, which definitely pissed atsumu off. he used his other hand to pull down your shorts and panties in one swift moment before adding a third finger to your tight hole.

“now i wanna hear ya. c’mon make some noise fer me.”

you couldn’t help but let out a loud moan, your eyes screwed shut as you writhed underneath him.

“that’s my good girl. doin’ so well f’me.”

his fingers felt like heaven inside you, your back arching off the chair as you whined for more. his free hand came to your hair and he slowly grabbed hold of it, leaning down to kiss you once again, yet this kiss was filled with lust and greed. his fingers moved like pistons inside you, you felt the heat in your abdomen growing steadily. you knew you wouldn't last long, and atsumu could feel you clenching around his fingers. he pulled away from the kiss, smirking down at you.

"look at my pretty baby, about to fall apart on a stranger's fingers. anyone could see ya, looking like a slut sprawled out on my tattoo chair."

you whined, squirming under his touch. he leaned down, head buried in your neck, whispering sweet nothings and praise in your ear. you couldn't help but come undone on his fingers, biting the skin on his neck, to hide your moans. your legs were weak, and tiredness was creeping into your bones slowly. he got up off the table and pulled your body to the edge, your ass hanging slightly off the end.

"nuh uh. we're not done yet sugar." 

he undid his pants and threw them where your shorts were and your eyes were transfixed on his cock, hard and red at the tip. you licked your lips, and looked up at him, knowing that he wasn't going to stop anytime soon. before he grabs your hips, he picks up your underwear and hands them to you.

"in yer mouth, sweetheart. need to keep that sweet voice down for me."

you take it and put it in your mouth, and his hands grip your hips. he rubs his cock up and down your folds, your juices and his pre-cum mixing, lubing him up. as he was about to push inside his phone rings. it shocks both of you as he bends down to pick it up. You shake your head violently, hoping he doesn’t answer it, but all he does is put a finger in front of his lips in a shushing motion as he answers the phone.

“oh hey ‘samu. whatcha need?”

you could feel atsumu rubbing against you again as you look at him, eyes wide, as his tip catches on your entrance every so now and again. he continues talking to his brother as he slowly began to sink inside you, biting his lip to hide his moans, and you throw your head back against the chair, biting back your moans, only a few small ones slipping past the panties between your lips. 

“nah i’m not busy. we haven’t started her tattoo yet. we had a small…setback”

he smirks as he starts to fuck into you, not allowing you to adjust to his size and still sensitive from your previous orgasm. your hand gripped his that was at your waist, nails digging into his wrist as you tried your best to be quiet, your body wanting to betray you and give in to the pleasure.

atsumu was in heaven. seeing your fucked out face in front of him, flushed and needy, holding back moans he desperately wanted to come out. in his eyes, you were perfection.

you could see on atsumu’s face he was feeling it too, his eyebrows were knitted together, sweat dripping from his brow, and his eyes never leaving yours. his eyes carried all the emotions he was feeling: lust, want, need. emotions you couldn’t help but feel as well. He leaned down over you, his face right over yours his jagged breaths and soft groans filling your senses. you were close again, and feeling him twitch inside you, you knew he was too.

“ya can get lunch for us, and the pretty girl too.”

he winked at you slyly.

“i’m coming..soon so just wait for us, yeah?”

you knew what he meant, the raspy tone of his voice and the slight stutter in his voice. he said his final goodbyes and finally put the phone down before bottoming out inside of you. you whine loudly, tears prickling at the sides of your eyes. you wanted to cum, no you needed to cum. You wiggled your hips as best you could against him, grinding on his cock. he groaned lowly into your neck before grabbing onto your hair.

“ya wanna cum? does my pretty girl wanna cum like a slut on my cock?”

Your body ached as he said that, your cunt fluttering around him.

“it seemed like ya enjoyed being fucked while i spoke to my brother. wanna have him come watch as you unravel in my tattoo studio?”

you audibly moaned at the idea, having his brother watch as you were fucked senseless. He slowly started moving his hips, his thrusts hard and deep, his pace quickening slowly.

“yeah ya like that idea, huh? well, sugar, you’ll cum when i cum, got it?”

you nodded quickly, your mind already numb. he started to pick up the pace, his cock just kissing your cervix so beautifully. the heat in your abdomen builds up quicker than before, and wants to be released, but not until atsumu was ready. you made sure to hold on, moans now cascading past the makeshift gag, not caring about who heard you. atsumu adored it. he revelled in the fact he could make you feel this way. he was getting close too, he couldn’t help it when you looked and sounded so exquisite beneath him. if he could keep you like this, he would.

he saw tears running down the side of your cheeks and kissed them away, as he whispered about how much of a good girl you are for him.

“...inside? can i cum inside?”

you heard him say, almost whimpering into your ear, and you nodded, hoping he got the message. he leaned his arm next to your head to keep him up, looking you in your eye.

“ya gonna cream on my cock before i cum, okay? need to feel you cum on me.”

you needed nothing more than to look into his eyes as you felt yourself let go, electricity flowing to all ends of your body as you came on his cock, clenching down on him so hard he couldn’t help but grip your hair tighter, fucking you through your orgasm. your poor overstimulated pussy was still being used to milk his cock, and you wanted nothing more than to have him cum inside you. you pulled him closer to you, your lips barely touching.

“please cum inside me ‘tsumu.”

he came right on the spot, his body spasming as he fucked his load into you, never breaking eye contact as he whimpered slightly, feeling you clench around his now sensitive cock. 

“fuck, you’re amazing.” 

he breathed out as he layed his head in your neck, trying to catch your breath. your hands trailed up his arms, slowly drawing shapes on them, trying to catch your breath as well. 

“you’re not to bad yourself ‘tsumu.”

you liked the way the nickname rolled off your tongue, and he enjoyed hearing you say it. He slowly leaned up, pulling out of you before quickly running to get something to clean you off with. he clean you off diligently, watching not to touch you too roughly and he cleaned himself off. you then both, got dressed and sat down for a second.

“so, do ya wanna schedule another appointment for the tattoo?”

you smirked as you leaned back on your arms.

“if it means seeing you again, i’ll make sure you’re fully booked.”

all works belong to @cpidsworld ! Do not claim as own or reupload without permission!!

tags: @tojiisadilfsposts @honeybuzzzzzz @lifeandtimesofpineapplehead @kuroosluthoe @aelrinv @justanothernpcartist @kvlfodusud @thisbicc @elavin @getwaves @loser1305 @sociopath0208 @alienvarmint @astennu @lomons @selfconcitedslut @malxoxo @mhasoftcore @azuremyst99 @str4wb3rrycaoke @heavnlyseraph @cloud-lyy @emotional-zebra @ranhlovebot @hornyafmovingon @vicksobus @hellvua-viper @celiniverse @thebrownemo @kenny5673 @kryzi @defextsblog @mobbbb1 @natriae @onlyitachiis @mpregandmore @t3ng3ns-s1ut @loumoon12 @honeyyy-vee @senpaisbadass @yung-usOpp @coffee-addict-32 @animerules-15 @honey-teaaaaaaaa

[shygirl4991]

CHAPTER 1 DATE AND SPLIT

All art is done by @b-r-i-n-g-x be sure to check out her other stuff! Please do not repost art! Summary:

After the event of Splits into Three everything felt like things were back to normal, that is until Three’s boyfriend kicks down his front door announcing he has fallen under the same spell he did. Together they will learn the secret of the cherry potion and with SMG4 splits put an end to the evil gang's plan. Sequel to Split into Three Next Chapter

Tags: Action/Adventure, Romance, fluff, angst with a happy ending!, blood, character death, injury, SMG34 is canon, split au

SMG4 wakes up in a great mood, getting up he decides to check his phone to see if his boyfriend messaged him. He smiles as he looks at his phone, he never knew that being on cloud nine could feel so amazing. He hums reading over the text he received, letting out a soft giggle seeing it's an invite to go out. Putting his phone down he heads to the bathroom to get ready, as he watches his face his mind starts to wonder. He never thought that the day would come that he would end up falling for his ex rival, not to mention start dating the man.  He brushes his teeth thinking back on everything they went through together, the more he thought on it the more he saw the signs he missed back then. He spits out the paste and smiles at his reflection “Well we got there at the end!” With a nod he runs to his room and dresses up, with his iconic overalls on he throws on his hat and makes his way to Three’s coffee and bombs. 

Spade sighs as he watches the others leave the cafe, he starts to feel nervous and begins to walk around the cafe. The front door opens causing Spade to jump up, he turns to see Melony there waving at him with a bright smile. Spade places his hand on his chest “Oh fuck Seedy you scared the shit out of me, im guessing you already know whats happening?” She nods, giving him a determined look.  Seeing this he relaxes and lets out a soft smile, he couldn't help it, after everything they went through together he ended up seeing her like a daughter. He wondered if that was just him or the others felt it too, at that moment his eyes looked behind the fruit deity. There he saw Four walking over to the cafe, he panics and without another thought grabs Melony by her arm and tosses her over the counter to hide her. She screams as she lands on the floor, getting up, she pouts as she rubs her head. SMG4 walks in waving at Spade “Hey, thanks for inviting me so what's the plans for the day?” Melony peeks over the counter watching their interaction with a soft smile. Spade sighs as he points to the door. “Well if i remember correctly when we were looking for memes,  there was a carnival we didn't really get to enjoy.” he was thankful that Heart remembered the carnival it was the perfect distraction.  Hearing this, Four's eyes light up as he grabs Spades hand, he blushes at the contact then awkwardly looks to the side. Four smiles brightly before walking towards the door “I haven't been to the carnival in years…since you know i attempted to be a ringmaster.  I’m thankful the plan worked in the end and we got money for the castle!” Spade lets out an embarrassed chuckle remembering the bunny ears, not to mention the threat their boyfriend did with their browsing history. Spade had to make sure his original remembers to hide that better. 

They leave the cafe holding hands, it took everything in Spade not to push off the other man. He could feel his heart race from the simple contact, this was going to be a long day. Melony waited till the pair were a good step ahead to follow them, she slid on some sunglasses hoping SMG4 wont notice it was her.  The moment they arrived at the carnival Four let go of Spade to excitedly look at all the meme themed prizes. He then noticed a pink Eggdog on the wall of prizes, he knew what he had to do. He walks up to the game and smirks, all he had to do was get the ball into the baskets and score higher than thirty  points.  He slams some bills on the counter as he picks up the first ball, Spade seeing this let out a chuckle as he leans against a pole. SMG4 smiles at Spade as he spins the ball on his finger “See Three, you may have beaten me thanks to Luigi in that basketball match months ago. But here we are in my playing field, welcome to the SMG4 show!” Spade smiles as he rolls his eyes seeing the character Four was putting on “Alright stop being a fucking showman and throw that ball!” With a nod Four throws the ball and gets a few points. Seeing this he turns, giving a wink to his date, Spade's face goes red “Stop being a fucking show off and just focus on the game…baka.” 

Melony smiles seeing the couple interact, she always loved seeing her friends happy even if seeing the pair together made her wonder. She frowns as her mind wanders too thoughts on Axol, letting out a sigh she shakes the thoughts out her head. That's when she notices someone walking towards them, he slips his hand into his pocket taking out a dart gun. She glares at the man and half transforms as she rushes over, in a flash she knocks the weapon out of the pianta’s hand then points her sword at his neck. She takes a deep breath to hold back her rage “Why are you after Three and the others? WHY WON'T YOU LEAVE MY FRIENDS ALONE?!” the pianta chuckles as he reaches out to grab the sword. Her eyes go wide seeing him grab her sword “Something big is coming girly, we need that personality!” He then kicks Meloney away from him. She gasps as she gains her balance, she notices the blood on her sword and looks at the man running off.  He cut his hand attempting to escape as he kept running, he let out a laugh thinking he was free. Melony growls as she throws her sword at him, the sword goes through his shirt and pins him to the wall of a nearby store. She slowly walks up to the man glaring at him with full rage “I won't let anyone hurt my friends again!”

Four throws another ball ready for another point, only for it to hit the rim of the basket and fly back at him. He squeaks dodging the ball, Spade laughs at the sight “Oh my fuck did you choke? Only twenty points!?” he keeps laughing as SMG4 glares at him. Spade picks up the ball and smiles at Four flashing his sharp teeth “How pathetic, let a real man show you how it's done~” Four’s face goes bright red as he takes a step back. He stares at his boyfriend surprised, he didn't know the man had that kind of charm.  Spade gets in position and takes the shot, like nothing Spade scored fourty points. Four’s smile drops seeing the points, he wanted to show off to the man, He wanted his boyfriend to be impressed by his skill, except he looked like an idiot. He looks down, his hand begins to shake as his mind whispers to him ‘Do you think you deserve to date him after what you did?’ Spade was ready to pick a prize when he noticed from the corner of his eye SMG4 acting strange, so he turned and studied him. With a nod he pulls Four into a hug, SMG4 blushes from the unexpected affection “Hey idiot stop whatever it is your thinking on. If it's about the game, remember no one is perfect, pretty sure we learn this lesson.” 

SMG4 wraps his arms around Spade holding him tight till he feels the voices fade from his mind, he slowly lets go of Spade. He gives a small smile “Thanks, heh you seem to always know what to say.” Spade lets out a chuckle as he takes fake glasses off a stand and puts it on “I am a therapist you know! Need an ear, mine is all yours!” They both chuckle, noticing how he was acting he blushes taking the glasses off “Ahem let's move on.” Spade takes Four’s hand as they walk to a different game in the carnival, Melony lets out a sigh as she walks away from the unconscious pianta.

Seeing the couple moving she followed, looking around closely to make sure no one was following the pair, the more time passed the more of these strange pianta would appear. Melony was finding herself getting drained from all the combat, SMG3 wasn't joking when he told her how Spade needed to be watched over. She looks at the pair as they giggle holding hands, the thought of something happening to Spade could mean the end of SMG3 made her nervous. She always lost someone she loved, she can't lose the person she sees as a father figure. As the pair chatted enjoying the carnival, they stopped at another game where they had to shoot duck targets. The game reminded him of how Meggy and Tari became friends, he chuckles as he watches Spade pick up the toy gun ready to shoot. He blushes watching Spade fire the gun, something about the man’s smirk at this moment made his heart race. Suddenly the pair heard a crash, turning Four’s eyes widened seeing Melony. 

“HEY I'M PRETTY DONE WITH THE CARNIVAL HOW ABOUT GO BACK TO THE CAFE!” Spade grabs Four’s hand before the man could ask any questions. Spade couldn't help the murderous thoughts that invaded his mind, he wanted to go back there and show them they messed with the one personality. He turns and sees SMG4 looking at him confused on the sudden shift in the date, he sighs knowing he couldn't risk Four. Anything happens to this man and he would have to face Heart and his original. They arrive at the cafe, letting go of Four’s hand he panics trying to come up with an excuse on what happen “Look i… well you see….fuck.” SMG4 gives him a soft smile then giggles, Spade blinks at him confused on what was going on. Four takes his hand and taking a deep breath gives his hand a kiss as if he was some prince in a fairy tale, Spades face goes red at the action. “Don't worry Three, It was a lot and seeing our friends can bring down the mood. Honestly I'm just happy we were able to see what a date felt like, it was amazing!” Spade felt himself  go shy “Whatever not like I had fun or anything but since you want to…i guess we can go on another.” 

SMG4 smirks at spade and affectionately hits his shoulder “Always the tsundere huh three?” Seeing them safe at the cafe Melony let out a sigh of relief, she was extremely drained from all the fighting. She jumps when she feels a pat on her head, turning she sees it's a sad looking SMG3 “You did good Mel.” She smiles, feeling herself fall asleep, Three acts quick and catches her. He turns to look at the cafe “One more to go.” 

Spade was currently trying not to panic as he sat next to Four, the man was gushing about the video he was currently working on. The way the man's face lights up as he explains every detail was too much,  Spade swears his heart is ready to escape from his chest. Four then snaps his fingers, saving Spade from dying over the man's charms. Four gets up from his seat “Do you have left over coffee i can have? I need to pull an all-nighter if I want to make it before saturday!”  Spade waves his hand trying to stop his raging emotions “I’m sure there is a cup in the fridge you can have.” Four nods walking over to the fridge and seeing the cup, he grabs it and takes a sniff “Cherry? Didn't know he serves this kind of coffee, I bet this will taste amazing warmed up!” He walks up to Spade showing the cup “Thanks Three, guess that means you win the best boyfriend award.” He couldn't help teasing the man as he took a sip of the coffee.  Spade blushes and stands up glaring at Four “Ugh just shut it baka!” At that moment SMG4 felt strange as his eyes flickered pink, seeing Four off again Spade gently touched SMG4 “Hey are you okay?” Four looks up at Spade and smirks “Yes, but you know i think i can be better~”  Confused Spade decides to poke at the topic “Heh, was the date not enough?”  Four chuckles as his eyes flicker pink again “Please how could a date like that satisfy me, we need some spice!” Spade stands there more confused than before, seeing this Four grabs Spade’s overalls and kisses him. They pulled apart, both red in the face, Four looked around confused as to what happened.  Spade lets out a shy giggle “Didn't know coffee got you like that…”  SMG4 starts to panic as he realizes he just kissed his boyfriend, seeing the panic made Spade smirk.

He leans close making Four’s heart race “Well then Blue thanks for the fun date, enjoy your coffee~” the flirtatious tone surprised SMG4 making him dash out of the cafe flustered.

SMG4 sprints through the front doors of his castle, he lets out  a shaky sigh as he starts to feel sick. He makes his way to the bathroom, he looks at his reflection and sees them flickering different colors. He rubs his eyes to see them go purple to his iconic blue, he keeps staring waiting for something to change. After a few moments of no changes he lets out a sigh of relief, he must be getting sleepy after the events of the day. He leaves the bathroom and wanders into the kitchen, he takes out the coffee and pours it into a cup. He had to make sure to thank his partner for the coffee once the video was finished, with that thought the microwave beeps. 

His eyes begin to feel irritated as he rubs them again, taking out his phone he checks his reflection to see his eyes being red before going back to normal. He lets out a nervous chuckle “You are just tired Four, your eyes are not changing colors.” He takes out his warm cup of coffee out of the microwave, he walks into his room to get ready for a long night of editing. He chugs the coffee and slams the cup on the desk “Man Three really should make more cherry coffee, this is great!” He starts to edit his next video when suddenly he feels sick again, he gets up to splash water on his face only for the room to start spinning. He attempted to hold on to the wall only to slide down and hit the floor. “OH GOD WE KILLED HIM, WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO WITHOUT AN ORIGINAL! OUR FRIENDS WILL HATE US!” one of the voices yelled in a panic. A gentle voice could be heard right after “Hey shhh, it's going to be okay he is just sleeping!” A small chuckle could be heard “That's right, we are the main character that has to mean we are all okay!” SMG4 didn't know how much time had passed since he heard the voices, he groaned, getting up and looking around the room. He couldn't remember when he decided to go to bed, letting out a sigh he wondered if he had a caffeine crash. Thinking over it he started to wonder if caffeine crashes could cause someone to hear voices, right when he was going to brush that thought aside he heard frantic typing next to him. 

He turns to the sound to see someone at his desk working on his video “It needs to be perfect, oh god if we mess this up we will lose subscribers.” SMG4 gets up and approaches the person at his desk, he spins the chair to see himself looking surprised. The other was dressed in grey, he had messy long hair along with bags under his eyes. The grey SMG4 smiles and hugs him “WE DIDN'T KILL YOU! THANK THE MEMES!” slowly he pulls away, SMG4 could only stare in shock as he watches the other him walking around the room. He stops and points to the bed “I put you in bed with the others, I mean we can't just leave you on the floor! AH MAN THIS IS ALL OUR FAULT!” he bites his nail trying to think over what to do. 

SMG4 takes the moment the other man looks away to dart out of the room, he needed help and there was no one else he trusted more than his partner. He slams open the cafe door scaring his boyfriend, he drops a cup behind the counter and glares at Four “The hell Blue can’t you…hey you okay?” Seeing the panic on SMG4's face, Three walks up and gently hugs him. After he felt Four stop shaking he let him go, Four nervously pointed to his castle “The lack of sleep is getting to me, I just saw someone that looked like me. He was just editing my videos!”  Hearing this, SMG3's face goes pale, he takes Four’s hand and walks over to the castle. The grey SMG4 was walking around in a panic, he didn't expect his original to run out and was worried something could happen to him.  Hearing the front door he turns, his eyes meeting red ones that make his heart race “Hello SMG3…i uh im sorry, i know…i shouldn't be here” his looks down messing with his sleeve. Seeing this SMG3 approaches gently “I…hm what are you to SMG4?” Three just said his goodbye to his own personalities,it hasn't even been more than twenty four hours and here he is face to face with another Four. His mind was racing on how this could be, the grey SMG4 looks away shyly “Im producer…im SMG4 well…his anxiety, his insecurity…” Hearing this Four looks at them confused “My what? Three, what is going on?! Ignoring his boyfriend's question, his focus was fully on the personality in front of him “I guess the others all ran off?” That line was the final push. Four grabs three pulling him away from producer “OTHERS?! What is happening Three!?” with a frown he looks at Producer. SMG3 lets out a sigh “ It’s a pretty long story, but you do need to hear it otherwise we are going to be stuck with a few more you.”  Producer sits on the floor ready for the story, seeing this, SMG4 joined listening to the story.

[ryndicate]

45 ⨳ Soul Evans

Warnings: fem body, creampie, feeeelings (@cwgyuutaro), mid 20s Soul, canonverse, weapon!reader

Event: 2023 Summer Anthology

Notes: @medusashima if i remember correctly it was you who requested Soul so here's a little courtesy tag and a thank you for participating and choosing such a juicy line for him <3

“This really isn’t subtle, you know,” you mewl, putting your teeth in his shoulder to try and muffle your own sounds, arms tight around his shoulders, clinging to him as he pants into your neck. His hands are hot as he moves you on his dick, your legs secured around his waist, 

"Maybe you shouldn't be so loud then." He chuckles at the little oof you give out as he lets your back fall to the sleeping bag, settling firmly over you.

“Then maybe you should hurry up!”

Soul ignores your pointed whine, giving you a small glare as you try to let your legs fall; he readjusts the grip of your legs around his waist so he can lean in closer, pressing your tacky foreheads together. “Nah, I don’t think I’m gonna.”

“Soul,” you whisper, the only voice to your plea as you submit to his tongue as he pries your lips open with his tongue. His fingers tighten on your ass and you feel yourself squeeze tight around him. Soul groans down your throat, the muscles in his thighs jumping as he fights to keep control of his current pace.

Neither of you are strangers to quick, casual hookups; back home that’s the norm. It’s this that’s rare—usually reserved for late night’s with too much beer, or a distraction from a frustrating day—this version of Soul. Right now he’s slow, torturous, intent. Undeterred by the embarrassing sounds of your pelvises slapping together. Sometimes he’s just seated in your hot cunt, accompanied by little grinds as he puts more focus into running his hands over your body, steady, firm, like he’s mapping new territory. Like he’s not had access to every inch of your body for the last several months. 

A pitched keen pulls from your throat, blocked by his tongue and dissolving into whimpers as he worships your body. He shushes you softly, pressing his lips to yours gently, across your swollen bottom lip, then the corners, continuing the comforting sound as his lips track down the column of your throat.

“If you’re really so worried about someone hearing, then tone it down,” Soul noses at your jaw, sucking a dark mark there, feeling his pulse kick at the little whine you let out even as you let him do it, “Make it soft. Make it just for me, ‘mkay?”

You tremble at his touch and nod, the warm pads of his fingers as he traces over the mark he just left behind, eyes burning with things the two of you have never spoken about. Things you think you’re beginning to understand, even if a little. Things that frighten you.

“Good.”

You clasp a hand over your mouth as he raises himself up a little and begins to move in the way that you’ve been begging him to since the moment you fell into his tent at the end of the night. Everyone else is a mere couple meters away, with nothing but a few layers of nylon between you. Your words a little more than breaths slipping between your fingers. “Mn- yes, please like that.”

“Haah,” Soul groans against your cheek, gritting his teeth at the starry bliss in your eyes, framed by tear laden lashes. The way you look right now, carefully taken a part—it’s exactly what he wanted but he’s still not had enough of you. He’s starting to think he never will. His cock is throbbing, wrapped snug in your wet heat, and the coiling ball in his gut is winded so tight that it wouldn’t take much to send him reeling to oblivion.

All his restraint vanishes when your nails dig into his back, chanting his name under your breath. “Soul please, please. Can’t take anymore. Need it, need you to—”

“Oh fuck, babe,” Soul groans, a shudder wracking through his body as you gasp. “Fuck, I’m s’close. You’re s’good, you feel s’good. Perfect for me, babe.”

Your heart flutters at little scrunch of his nose, how his words start to blur together as his own urgency rips down every wall that he uses to put himself together, and he’s left bared in front of you. It never fails to exhilirate you. 

“I need you to come,” he rasps, a exertion making his voice weak, pretty even. He pets over your clit so sweetly, insistently, steady and even and so, so perfect that you forget everything. There’s just you and him and this heaven shattering feeling rushing through your veins and tipping you into the realm of no return. “I need it, need you t’come for me. Please, please, babe ‘s okay now, let go.” His voice breaks as you start to gush over his cock, slick sounds getting obscene, but it’s lost to the sound of Soul’s voice as he comes apart for you. “For me, babe, need you to– that’s it– awhh fuck yes– Y-yes, yes, yes, yes—”

He shudders against your chest, still humping into you in broken, jerky motions as he unloads hot, sticky white into your twitching cunt. You’re too overcome with your own orgasm and his sweet little groans to truly register that he’s never done that before. You’re so full of him, of his cum, of his half hardness, still valiantly twitching inside you like he never wants to leave.

You trace sticky lines up and down the valley of his shoulder blades for a few moments, the both of you sheltering in this quiet bliss before you have to return to reality.

“I should really go,” you whisper to him softly after a few minutes of increasingly uneasy silence. “We’ve lost enough sleep. Our meisters will be depending on us tomorrow.

“Yeah, alright.” He sighs and lets himself slip out of you, intensely watching the way his seed spills out of you the moment he stops blocking it’s path. “Let me clean you up first.”

You let your head rest back with a small sound of content as he digs in his pack for something to wipe you down with, and roll over when he’s finished, fishing for your discarded clothing. 

Soul tugs his pants on, and sits watching you, his forearms resting over his bent knees. “You know I should be apart of the frontal assault team.”

“Lord Death wanted you and Maka to lead the rear reinforcements, he wants the finish to be decisive. There’s no one better for such a task.”

“Yeah, I heard it all in the briefing,” Soul scoffs, wiping his hands on his thighs and standing up and helping you out of his tent. 

His malcontent is like a quiet storm, brewing in the distance, never to truly breach the horizon. He doesn’t fight losing battles, and he knows that the chance to change this has long since passed.

“You’ll catch up with us soon,” you assure him with a fragile smile, lacing your fingers with his gently. 

“You bet your ass we will,” Soul responds quietly, carmine eyes studying your face like he’ll find something new. Only the tiniest squeeze of his fingers around yours betrays that unshakable facade of his, alerts you that he’s thinking the same thing as you. The words “take care” itch across your tongue, but neither of you dare tell the other. Both of you have known from the beginning, wrapped tight in the mutual understanding that if anything were to go wrong today, you would both do your duty as weapons. 

You sigh and let him go, adjusting your haori and then your hair, preparing to slink back to your tent.

“Oi.”

You turn back to him. His voice is back to that indolent drawl, the one that used to have you at each other’s throats back in the day. He’s got his thumb under his headband, adjusting silvery strands in silence until he turns his eyes on you.

“When we get back…I’m done hidin’. I’m don’t want to be that kind of guy anymore.”

“O-oh,” you breathe, startled, a fluttery feeling rising in your chest, battling your fear for the coming battle. “Okay.”

Soul gives you a sharp half-smile, echoing himself. “When, you hear me?”

After a moment you realize what he’s saying and after another second of though you nod, unsure but unable to deny him this little tangle of hope. 

“When.”

[birthdaycakeplate]

@fluffythecthulhu said they wanted a fic in a comment under my Mother’s Day Megop art. I’m not sure how serious you were, but I still made one! It’s short for once, but it got embarrassing fast.

Thank you for the sweet comment, btw 💕🦑

TFA Carrier Optimus Megop

Warning in the tags✨

-/——————-

Optimus hadn’t touched his rations all cycle- more concerning still, he hadn’t fueled properly in a deca-cycle. He complained more about feeling nauseous or on the constant brink of downright purging than he ever did use that snarky mouth of his to consume his Energon.

Megatron had grown used to him neglecting himself in ways he formerly thought him too sensible to make the mistake of. Choosing to ignore fueling in lieu of finishing a communication relay at least a thousand lightyears out of range to reconnect a straying ship- which could take hours, where every precious minute counted.

Strika had ordered him not to work so hard to salvage the fodder that either purposely veered off their course, or were too stupid to read a set of coordinates correctly. She would insist that it was what they deserved for acting so foolishly.

And every time, Optimus would argue that that was no reason to leave them there to suffer both the chilling isolation of lost space or such a flippant branding from their superior. There was always some reason, he insisted, for their severed connection. There was always some argument he would make that Strika and the other high command -or any average Decepticon in close range willing to insert their opinion upon hearing the conversation- were being too harsh.

She’d leave in a huff, Optimus would resume working himself to death, and his rations would go untouched for another hour straight.

Megatron regretted assigning a brat with such an unprejudiced, smart little mouth a position in communications.

Unfortunately, Optimus’ abhorrent lack of charisma was unexplainably magnetizing…somehow. And he was by the book and strict in regulations, making him a fantastic -brainwashed- soldier to trust to carry out an order. His dedication to everything he was tasked with, as well as that odd charm, assured Megatron near immediately that he was the best choice for the job.

Optimus would always do what he was told and do it to a fault, so long as no one else suffered unfairly for it. It was perfect for Megatron who was looking for a mech willing to communicate with both halves of the reunited factions. Especially since no one else could be convinced to take the job. Those that were willing were sorely lacking the skills to delegate, and so it went to Optimus not a mere three cycles after his reassignment to the Nemesis exploration crew.

That meant having to deal with the sassy bot more than Megatron would have liked to- at least once a cycle, in fact.

Things…. Only developed from there.

It wasn’t Megatron’s fault- contrary to what Starscream insisted otherwise regarding fragile little civil frames, and their easily overwhelmed, shy nature. Never daring to make the first move and take up so much space in the affairs of their large counterparts.

As Decepticons, thus far, hadn’t the single most qualm with inserting themselves into the matters of their new, tiny crew mates.

But truly, it wasn’t Megatron’s fault. He was not the instigator.

It was the fault of limited worthwhile conversation for so many millennia and the equally refreshing opportunity to have an unbiased presence in his life once more. One, unlike Strika, who wasn’t adverse to talking about subjects unrelated to warfare and maneuvers. One that was keen to show Megatron respect as his newly appointed commander, though not to defer to his every whim and judgement and roll over for him in niceties.

It made their time together less like the chore of keeping basic communication with his personnel, and more a thing of thrill and fancy.

Megatron was having fun again.

More fun than he’d ever had attempting to destroy the mud ball planet his new officer so loved. Who knew?

Of course, it…. Quickly turned into something else….

Which was more or less ignorable for a time, since both parties knew best that they would benefit from an aloofness and detachment while resuming their duties. Keeping to formalities anyplace outside the berth.

It helped that Megatron had deluded himself into thinking he actually meant it.

But their coupling had admittedly lead to this new current issue Megatron was having. The matter of his once dependable -brainwashed- soldier refusing to feed himself, and Megatron caring a lot about it…

None of that was to say how unsettling Optimus’ sudden bouts of stasis were.

Whether the mech was walking peacefully on his way to deliver his reports, or merely sitting in on a barely mandatory -but damned if Optimus wasn’t going to be there with bells on- conference Shockwave routinely made Civil bots sit through on cross-build interactivity regulations, the little mech was always seen falling into recharge. Cheekplate propped up in one palm or with pedes propped against the table.

It was horribly unsettling… Horribly. Had Megatron mentioned that?

Strika said he was paying too much attention to the colorful thing (and chalking it up to that). Somehow oblivious to the scents still faintly permeating Megatron’s armor where little servos had held on to him tight the night prior.

He knew it was true all the same, that something was wrong with his former Prime.

Megatron blamed it on his extended workload, combined with the appalling lack of Energon he was consuming. But that theory only lasted for so long.

When even Ratchet was petitioning him on Optimus’ behalf to allow the firetruck to take a temporary leave, Megatron was certain this strange new behavior was something far more sinister than an overworked Officer.

This was… stressful. Worrying.

The space between them had grown much smaller over the vorns. Their relationship had significantly changed- whether Optimus shared that opinion with him or not.

Staying over in Megatron’s berth had become a much more frequent occurrence. As of a few cycles ago, a proper nest -normally a construction reserved for two settled mechs- had appeared, and was drenched in their combined scents to the point they left Megatron’s quarters each morning practically wearing the other out.

That was comforting, smelling the irritating aft everywhere he went throughout the day. Megatron didn’t want to lose that.

Was Optimus’ condition dire?

Was their time soon to be limited?

Would their bond nest come to unravel with the eventual loss of its imperative second occupant? Their time, was it to be cut so short so soon, fated by Primus as punishment for all his wrong doings?

They’d only just started sitting together in the command center when Megatron ushered him forward to give his report- finding him a place by his throne. On the armrest…

Was there to be no more late night rendezvous where Megatron graced him rare glimpses of his poetry and Optimus laughed at the absurdity of the writings?

Was he doomed to spend his entire functioning a solemn, bondless mech, now that he’d had a surprising and unforeseen taste of a partner worth sharing one with?

Was he to give up his dignity and dilute all their ship’s resources into traversing the galaxy for some impossible cure to safe his sickly lover?

Was he going to have to replace his only willing Communications Officer?

Optimus approached him in the middle of another one of these fantastical spirals on the bridge one evening, while Blitzwing stood awkwardly at his side, waiting patiently to be given his dismissal post debriefing.

To Megatron’s surprise, he looked more alert and awake, frankly, than he had in nearly two Earth months.

When he looked down at wide, frightened optics peering up at him with so much uncertainty and fear, Megatron dropped to one knee in an instant. Uncaring who was seeing such a display, when insanity had muddled his processor so throughly into thinking the worst of his last moments with this precious mech.

“Optimus, what ails you?” He crooned, trying to pacify the quivering thing. Barely able to resist grabbing ahold of him.

Optimus said nothing- could say nothing, as his throat tubing began to tighten.

Megatron looked at him so earnestly, so despairingly…. When had this change occurred? When had they begun to care so deeply for one another? So openly.

Optimus assumed the answer to that was sometime around the creation of the tiny passenger he was carrying that they had both been oblivious to- or else the little one couldn’t have ever come to be…

Megatron blinked worried, narrowed optics at him, just as that thought seemed to fully integrate itself into Optimus’ logic unit.

He…began to smile up at the towering mech. Though it vanished in the next instant with the realization that Optimus would need to explain his… ‘ailment’.

“Megatron, sir. I need to discuss… This isn’t about my reports…. Actually, I… It’s….”

“What is it?” His new commander urged him on. No longer able to keep large palms from encompassing his shoulders in a caress for every pair of curious optics on the bridge to see.

“No need for formalities, even here, Optimus. Just tell me what’s wrong- you haven’t been fueling.”

Optimus lost his courage -or ability- to speak then. As his mouth clamped shut again and his optics grew wet, pointed finials began to droop down his helm. Clearly still frightened by something.

But whatever it was, he could always tell Megatron.

They were lovers now, destined to share a nest and a sparkbeat- Megatron would have it no other way. Regardless of what it was going to cost him to lead the excursion for Optimus’ sickness’s cure.

“You can tell me anything, beloved. Anything at all. Speak to your spark’s content, I shall listen-“

“Should I leave for zhis?” Blitzwing murmured cautiously from behind, still waiting to be released after the last time he’d been punished for breaking formation early.

“No matter what it is, speak it to me now, Optimus, and I shall tend to the matter however is necessary.” Megatron continued to soothe his little Sweetspark.

“I will not fail you- I will not leave you behind-“

“Even if it’s really bad…?” Optimus burst out.

“…And pretty permanent?”

Megatron blinked. Optimus swallowed, maintaining optic contact through sheer force of will and…. Hope?

There was a strange glimmer in his eye, and Megatron, no matter how keenly he tried to chase it as it bounced around the other mech’s shimmering optics, he couldn’t discern its meaning.

The smaller mech’s question, however, was easily answerable.

“Nothing at all could stand in the way of my devotion to you, Optimus.” Clawed digits carefully curled around strong, scarlet servos.

“Now that I have you, I shall not release you to any unkind fate or the malevolent will of gods.”

Besides an ever present amusement for his mate’s dramatics, Optimus looked much more settled and ready to spill everything then and there. His optics losing a great deal of the uncertain edge to them.

But still….

“Can’t stress enough how bad this is…”

“I should leave, right? I von’t be thrown in ze sparring room vith Sixshot again for failure to be properly discharged if I do, ja?”

“You encompass my entire being, little Autobot. You fill me with meaning and faith, dare I say it! Faith that there is a life far better than one fighting for a meager home on Cybertron once more… You promise me a home with spirit and life. You are my home, Optimus.”

Optimus, for his part, had lost much of the color to his derma that made it blue. Shades of searing red painted high above the arch of each cheek, filling out his round face nicely with a sweet dusting that faded seamlessly where it began to spread.

Megatron was enraptured. In love.

Optimus was enraptured, too, with the severity of his words. Megatron’s promises to him.

No mech had ever promised themselves to Optimus like this- he hadn’t even bothered to entertain the thought he’d see such a thing in his lifetime. And if that was how Megatron felt, it made much more sense how their extra passenger had came to be.

“Ratchet told me to triple my fuel rations… He put me on mineral additives and a stasis increase.”

Megatron blinked slowly. Thinking that didn’t sound anything like a debilitating disease he was about to have to fight god for. That sounded like he was treating Optimus for something else, actually… but….

“Why would he do that?” Megatron asked with his barely functional glossa.

“Ah- I really zhink I should leave for zhis!”

Optimus cheeks managed to burn brighter as, finally, he lost the battle to keep Megatron’s gaze. Blushing faceplate turning into the hollow between Megatron’s shoulder and collar.

The bigger mech didn’t fight him, finding himself in something of a daze as well.

“Um…. Well…. Ah….” Optimus attempted to explain. Poorly.

Megatron tried to focus back on the blushing bot when he lifted watchful…. glittering optics back up at him.

“Sorry, I’m still here!?”

“I’m carrying.” Optimus murmured. Cheeks pleasantly warming for reasons other than horrific embarrassment under Megatron’s powerful gaze.

“Carrying?” Megatron echoed back in something less like a whisper, and more like a string of broken syllables being carried off by the nonexistent wind.

“Wow…” said Blitzwing.

And also,

~Whirr~

“Straight shootin’, Tex!”

Optimus watched the emotions morph across his new Sire’s faceplate. Watched his utter confusion change into absolute delight, then pride. A pride himself to have been able to provide, a pride to have found himself such a perfect mate- with whom he had made such a perfect sparkling with.

And finally awe- no… Reverence. Like Optimus was a god amongst mortals, complete with a glow and this holy essence about him, as Megatron stared in blissful silence at the place in Optimus’ gestation tank where it would soon fill with a sizable bitlet, likely to take after his or her’s sire.

Now Megatron understood. That ‘hope’ he’d seen in his love before, it was an instinctual faith in his new carrier that Megatron would be proud. That he would be loyal and strong and provide.

Well, his hope was not misplaced- Megatron would surpass all others as sire!

Megatron reached down and settled a hand over the ridges of Optimus’ otherwise perfectly flattened grill. Soon, his body would change, quite drastically, in fact.

Hard edges would soften, the heavy duty armor making up most of his abdominal plating would part and reconstruct to allow for room for the protoform to grow. Strong, healthy pleats in his armor below his eventual ‘bump’ would aid in the support of his growing frame.

And inside, the sparkling would turn about happily at the thrum of their Sire’s sparkbeat close by- as there was no doubt in Optimus’ mind after Megatron’s words that they would never be parted again.

Which would only become an issue anytime his doctor attempted to check on the sparkling’s progress and Megatron’s (more than adequate) donations of raw materials.

The ex-warlord, and frankly feral gladiator, would not stand for another to touch his expectant mate.

Which made Blitzwing’s right as the new Sire’s witness -some strange, apparently credible Decepticon law- to survive a hand to the carrier’s belly to feel for the sparkling’s pulse every now and again all the more surprising.

Optimus couldn’t even be angry with the big brute when he condemned his lover with child to their nest for the foreseeable future- not even on Ratchet’s order.

It was the first time any bot had felt so passionately about him before… and primitive coding in Optimus’ core couldn’t help but encourage him to defer to the Sire. Orbit, kicking and bouncing away the cycle inside his gestation tank, didn’t seem to mind either.

——————

I could not proof read this the way you deserved me to- every day is like a rush to survive, now that summer’s here.

You’re always so kind when you comment, though, @fluffythecthulhu 💕✨thank you!!

[devildom-moss]

"Why don't you hate me...?"

(Mephistopheles x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (slight sub!Mephisto) (lots of plot) (slight angst) (NSFW tags: open relationship, caught/semi-public, oral on Mephisto, mentions of enemies to lovers, the tiniest hint of foot fetish Mephisto for one second?, one single "babygirl" for Mephisto)

Word count: +2,500

“Lord Diavolo,” Mephisto entered the council room where you and Diavolo were chatting – well it was less like a conversation and more like Diavolo chatting you up while his butler was briefly attending to something else outside of the room. Mephisto arrived just in time to catch Diavolo pulling you onto his lap. This wasn’t the first time he had accidentally walked in on Diavolo’s shameless flirting: once with you last week, another time with you a few months back, and well over a dozen times with Lucifer periodically in the last few centuries. He used to be envious of anyone who attracted special attention from Diavolo, but something else had been stirring in him recently.

Mephisto cleared his throat and set the initial copy of next week’s newspaper on the desk. You frantically scrambled up from Diavolo’s lap and stood next to him. Mephisto averted his gaze from you. “I’m sorry to intrude, but I thought you might wish to see the first print. Your full interview is published on page three, and your photo made the front page – of course it would. You look exquisite in that outfit, My Lord. I’m certain just having your radiant image will cause this issue to be in high demand.”

“You’re done already? That’s impressive, Mephi,” you smiled at him through your embarrassment.

“Thank you, Mephisto.” Diavolo grabbed the paper and smoothed the cover. “MC and Asmo picked that outfit for me – with Barbatos’s approval, that is. He doesn’t trust any of us after that one time you almost printed that picture of me in a miniskirt.”

“A what?” you asked.

“It was a very flattering outfit then, too, My Lord.”

“Someone is showing me that picture later,” you insisted. Correctly making the assumption that one or both of them maintained a copy of that photo. It was both.

“Certainly. I looked quite adorable in that picture,” Diavolo mused. “I’ll find it when I get back to the castle.”

“Oh. MC,” Mephisto piped up, “I reserved a copy for you as well. Would you like to come with me to the newspaper room to retrieve it? If you don’t mind, My Lord.”

“Of course not – if that’s what you want, MC.” Diavolo waved you both off – the embarrassment of being walked in on finally hitting him. “We can continue our discussion at a later date.”

Mephisto waited until you had exited the room to grab your hand and lead the way. He didn’t need to lead you. You had been there many times – often at Mephisto’s request. Still, you let him take your hand, even though he could scarcely look at you after what he had just seen.

“I’m sorry you saw that,” you apologized. Mephisto didn’t respond. Silence engulfed the air, and you both felt as if the tension of that silence had suffocated you – stifling your breath and anything worth saying.

When you were safely behind the doors of RAD’s newspaper room, Mephisto lost his composure. His lips found yours before you could register his desire to kiss you. He placed his hands on your face – a shy, insecure gesture that was filled with desperation and need. Even as you kissed him back, he wouldn’t dare explore your body with his hands. It was so easy for Diavolo to touch you, but Mephisto faltered in his confidence – especially after seeing how easy it was for another demon to put his hands on you. There was a tinge of frantic affection, his tongue briefly teasing you. He wanted more, and he didn’t know if he could take it. Mephisto pulled back, panting, and pressing his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry.” Mephisto turned his gaze to the floor. “I can’t stand to watch you with him.”

Ashamed by his own confession, Mephisto attempted to distract you from his brief admission of jealousy by pressing his lips against yours again. He was terrified to let you speak; more accurately, he was afraid that whatever you would say would solidify his insecurity – give it some foundation to stand on and build upon. If he could just kiss you until you were breathless or make you want him, he could at least delay what felt like the inevitable breaking of his heart. But you couldn’t read that clustered mess of anxiety. Tasting only the smallest hint of it on his lips, you pushed him away gently.

“I wish you hadn’t seen that. I know how you feel about me, and I know how you feel about Diavolo. I’m sorry,” you repeated the apology. You all seemed to have an understanding about how things worked – a semblance of freedom and ease that covered the intricate entanglement you had with your loved ones in the Devildom. That openness you had earned entailed these difficult-to-navigate moments. It was especially difficult to unravel and understand Mephisto’s entranced feelings towards Diavolo and his affections for you. When the two clashed, it was hard to know who he was jealous of, and all you wanted to do was comfort him.

He looked at you, his eyes wavering briefly before he resolved himself. “It’s fine. This isn’t the first time. Besides, I used to see Diavolo and Lucifer all the time.”

There was that name on his lips again. Mephisto’s grudge against Lucifer resurfaced: a fixation he had held onto for centuries. If you were honest, you and Lucifer weren’t that different when it came to the potential to vex Mephisto: you both had stolen Diavolo’s attention and affection. Yet, you had been spared his constant irritation and annoyance. Somehow, you had been elevated to a recipient of Mephisto’s affection. What made you so special?

“About that,” you started nervously. You had never had the courage to ask him, but his insecurity gave you an in. “I’ve been thinking about it. I get why you hold a grudge against Lucifer. But, I’m a lot like him, you know? I take so much of Diavolo’s time and attention. Maybe things were different after Lucifer, but I wouldn’t blame you if you resented me like you do him. And I think you did for a long time after we met. What changed? Why don’t you hate me like you hate Lucifer?”

Mephisto reverted back to his shame, refusing to look in your direction, and yet he replied as if it were the most natural and obvious answer in all three realms: “you were nice.”

The realization flooded over Mephisto. All he had ever craved was affection – for his own affection to be reciprocated. When he first met you, you were a lot like Lucifer in his eyes: some shiny, new creature for Diavolo to fawn over who consumed his thoughts with time. But then, there you were, being nice to him even when he didn’t really deserve it. At times, he knew his treatment of you was crude – to say the least. He wasn’t sure how you managed to show him consistent kindness in the face of his bitterness. Even your teasing was not malicious, and he knew that. Mephisto’s eyes began to water.

“I tried so hard to be a good companion to Lord Diavolo. I adore him, but I think I’ve always bored him. I felt bad about that for a long time,” he admitted, “I still do – if I’m honest. He’s a good ruler, and he’ll be a great king. I don’t know how to say this.”

“Just try,” you encouraged him with a gentle touch. Your hand settled on his shoulder, gently rubbing with your thumb.

“I get why he likes you. If you’ve given me just a fraction of the love you give him, I understand. I can’t turn away from you, even if it burns my eyes.” A few stray tears dripped down his cheeks and onto the floor. “You’re so nice to me. I still love Diavolo – I was practically made to love him, but I don’t want to share you with him. I know I can’t compare, but I still want you. Lucifer took him from me and left me tossed aside – like some crumpled up paper that no one would care to read. You extended your grace to me, and I don’t know what I would do if you took it away.”

With tearstains down his cheeks and uncertainty in his eyes, Mephisto looked so exposed and embarrassed. There was no way to fill the vacuum with words in a way that might uplift the hollowed-out demon in front of you. All you could hope for was to offer him some shallow physical comfort as proof of your stable affection. You weren’t just being nice. You wanted him, too.

“Let me be nicer to you.” You gently pushed him up against the nearest table and dropped to your knees for him. “Please?”

“H-here?” The smallest tinge of his haughty attitude slipped through the embarrassment unintentionally. A frantic shock settled on his face.

Softly, as if plucking a fragile flower which threatened to fall apart with any force, you grabbed his calf and raised his foot. You slid your hand down his leg to his stiletto heel and placed a quick kiss on the top of his boots. “Let me take care of you.”

Mephisto’s face burned, his need set aflame in the pit of his stomach, ignited with a sharp gasp. He nodded and placed his hands back on the table behind him. There was a subtle crinkling under his left hand. When he looked down, he realized that he had placed his hands on a copy of next week’s newspapers – the one intended for you. He repositioned his hand to cover Diavolo’s face before returning his gaze to you, expectant and lustful.

You unbuckled his pants and slid them down to his knees. Running your hands up his soft thighs, you came to the hem of his boxers before you had to stifle a smile. “Suck my dick” was written on the band of his boxers. You smirked at him. “Were you expecting this the whole time?”

“What? N-no, of course not!” He looked away indignantly. Even his ears had a faint blush to them.

“You’re so cute.” You pushed his shirt up just enough to place a kiss on his stomach – just over the hem of his boxers. The result was a shaky exhale from Mephisto’s lips.

You pulled his boxers down before moving your hands back up to his ass and dragging your nails down his skin gently. Mephisto couldn’t take his eyes off you as you stared at his dick like that: hungry for him. He was already hard for you. When you ran your fingers over his shaft, he gulped his desire down.

A soft lick and a gentle kiss on the tip of his cock were all the preparation you gave him before you had him half-way into your hot mouth. The muscles in Mephisto’s stomach tightened, and he let out a breathy moan. “F-fuck.”

Your tongue caressed the underside of his shaft and swirled around his head when you pulled back, occasionally earning a whimper from Mephisto. When you took him deeper, his right hand shot up over his mouth to muffle his moaning. His eyes were shut tight, and his head was tilted back. You could tell he was resisting the urge to buck his hips and thrust into your mouth. He would do anything to meet your touch somehow, but you told him you would take care of him, so he leaned back and only took what you gave.

His breathing was increasingly shallow and shaky. Through gentle panting, he said, “your mouth feels so good. I’m close. Please don’t stop.”

You wouldn’t dream of denying him right now. His sweet, stifled moaning filled the room – still louder than the wet noises you made as you sucked him off. He twitched in your mouth as you pushed him closer and closer to climax. Despite his efforts to quiet himself, if anyone walked by, they would know (vaguely) what was happening in that room and who it was happening to; Mephisto would be mortified, but he couldn’t stop himself. He moved his right hand from his mouth to your head. His tender caress was an attempt to signal that you were bringing him over the edge. That adorable gesture was minimized by his loss of restraint over his moaning. He sounded so desperate.

Mephisto came in your mouth, still caressing you with his right hand. When you pulled back, his cum still in your mouth, you stared up at him lovingly. He whimpered and trembled. His knees buckled slightly, so he placed his right hand back on the desk to steady himself. He was still panting when you stood up and kissed him. Mephisto could taste himself on your lips, and, in a daze, he opened his mouth so you could push your tongue and any residual cum into his mouth. A sweet moan left him.

You pulled away to see Mephisto’s blissed-out face. He smiled slightly when he opened his eyes to find you staring at him. That precious look was short-lived. The realization of what he had just done – what you both had just done – hit him.

He bent down, pulled his pants back up, and rose quickly. A wave of vertigo overcame him, and he caught himself on your sleeve. You held him against you.

“Woah. Are you okay, Mephi?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled sheepishly. “I’m just a little unsteady on my feet.”

Mephisto straightened himself, and you noticed his belt was still undone. You pulled him in slightly with both ends of the belt and buckled it for him. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.” Mephisto leaned forward and rested his forehead on your shoulder – in part because he was spent and in part because he was embarrassed. The embarrassment wasn’t so much about what had just happened; it was more about how you made him feel. For a few moments, he felt like the center of your attention. He wanted to savor that feeling a bit longer. “Could you walk me home? After all, it’s your fault my legs are still shaky.”

You laughed at his pompous act. “Of course, babygirl.”

“Shut up.” Mephisto rolled his eyes. “Ah, wait. I almost forgot. Your paper.”

Mehisto grabbed the slightly crumpled newspaper off the table behind him. He smoothed it out in his hands.

“Do you mind if it’s, you know?”

“Not at all.” You took the paper from his hands and offered him your arm. “Now let’s get you home.”

Mephisto leaned against you slightly, relishing your touch. A selfish part of him hoped that you would escort him home and stay the night so he could keep you to himself.

Half-way through the walk he let out a sudden laugh. “See, you’re nothing like Lucifer. He would never suck my dick and walk me back home.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes at him. “If you bring up his name one more time tonight, I’m going to just assume you want to fuck him.”

Mephisto put his free hand – the one that wasn’t holding onto you – up in resignation. A smile lingered on his face and his hope swelled. Something about the way you said “tonight” made him eager.

[slavicviking]

In the mood for some delicious miscommunicatio trope for steddie so here we are >:) part 1 of ??

wc: 1281

tags: friends with benefits, requitted unrequitted love, idiot4idiot

Love sucks.

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

“You’re supposed to have my back, Robin,” Steve sighs and slumps against the counter.

“I do have your back,” she replies with a light pat on the shoulder. “I am, though, going to ask you to stop moping over the counter, dingus. I just wiped it down a moment ago.”

“That’s so rude. Maybe crying over this counter is exactly what I need right now, you know?”

“Don’t. The stench of boy-desperation is going to seep in.”

Steve snorts. At least with Robin here the Monday morning shift is not so overwhelmingly, mind-numbingly boring. There’s only so many times Steve can reorganize the backroom, trying not to think about, well, The Situation.

Robin hands him a small packet of skittles from a bowl as peace-offering. If they’re lucky Keith will never notice. “Okay, but, really – I think you should consider it.”

“It’s not that easy, Rob,” he sighs, wincing when the customer bell sounds from the doors, even more when he sees who it is.

“Howdy,” Eddie greets them before diving straight into the horror section of the store. Steve sees Robin follow him with her eyes, her lips pulled down at the corners. He knows that look and though he appreciates her feeling protective over him, Steve is past his need or desire for any sort of escalating drama, especially within a group as tightly-knit as the Party. His hand lands in hers under the counter and squeezes.

Eddie comes back around ten minutes later, a video tape in hand. The plain T-shirt and the usual ripped jeans don’t look like much but Steve still finds it too magnetic to look away.

“The Shining?” Steve quirks an eyebrow. “A bit too mainstream for you, isn’t it?”

“It’s a classic, Stevie,” Eddie grins before leaning closer, twirling a lock of hair between his fingers, and if Steve didn’t know any better he’d say Eddie looked nervous. Which - ridiculous. Nothing to be nervous about, not in Eddie’s case anyway.  “Actually, I was wondering. I mean, it is a classic, right? Already mentioned that, um. But we could watch it together. If you’d like. No pressure, or anything.”

Before Steve can reply, the bell over the doors rings again and in a flurry of motions a chipper blonde runs up to the counter of Family Video, a dimpled smile plastered over her face. Jenna, if Steve recalls correctly – Robin’s year.

“Hi, Steve!” she greets loudly, hair pulled up in a high ponytail bouncing up and down. “I didn’t know you worked here. I mean, I did, I’ve been here before. Breakfast Club, remember? Anyway, after the earthquake I kind of thought you’d jump the ship. I mean, I would, but parents, you know?”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve blinks. “Guess I stayed.”

“Glad you did,” Jenna giggles, slim fingers just barely grazing over Steve’s arm. Enough to cause goosebumps. “Anyway, I’m here to return Fast Times for my brother. He was supposed to but he’s apparently too busy with basketball.”

Steve knows how this conversation should go, would have gone a few months ago, probably. He would ask about her brother and basketball, throw in a quip or two, maybe flex his arms, wink. It would work perfectly, too. And Jenna – she’s sweet, all dimples and cute skirts, colorful ribbons in her hair. She’s everything he should want right now – something easy and stable and realistic. But he can’t help but let his eyes drift to Eddie, how quiet he has gotten all of a sudden, maybe stressed about Jenna and the jock crowd she usually falls into; maybe because she feels eerily similar to how Chrissy used to be. Who knows.

In the end Steve just smiles politely and tells Jenna the fee to pay in a manner so robotic King Steve would cower in embarrassment at the mere sight. She looks miffed but it doesn’t deter her completely because she slips him a piece of paper with a poignant look shot Robin’s way. As if Robin was her greatest competition. Turn around, a little bit to the left, and there you’ll have it – the reason Steve Harrington is off the market.

Not that Eddie knows. Or will ever know.

The boundaries he set were pretty clear, Steve gets it.

“Did you see The Look?” Robin snickers next to him once Jenna’s gone and he can’t help but snort because, sure, Steve did have a crush on Robin very briefly what feels like ages ago, but by now the idea of them ever being considered a romantic couple is just laughable. Eddie, though, stays silent, eyebrows dropped low and eyes glued to the door.

Steve decides to bite the bullet.

“I’m game, you know.” Eddie shots him a perplexed look and he feels a hot wave of embarrassment wash over him swiftly. It’s clear Eddie hasn’t given the invitation much thought, maybe didn’t even really mean it in the first place but wanted to be polite. “You know, for, uh, The Shining.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, that,” Eddie shrugs, shoulders rising almost to his ears. “You can come. If you want.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

Eddie doesn’t linger after that, leaving Family Video with much less vigor than when he entered. Maybe that’s Steve’s effect on people, he muses as he dumps the slip with Jenna’s number into the bin in the backroom. The Steve Experience is an intense one, as he has been notified of before.

“So. What the hell was that?” Robin pokes him in the arm, nails surprisingly sharp and painful.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” Steve sighs. “He hates me. Fuck.”

“He doesn’t, dingus, I promise you,” Robin slings her arm across his chest and leans against his back. Steve loves her so much. “But he’s being super weird. I mean, my guess would be that he got jealous, honestly-“

“You know it isn’t like that. It’s just sex, he said so himself.”

And, okay, so. The Situation.

The weeks following Vecna’s attempt at world-domination royally sucked ass. The NDAs, the nightmares and all-encompassing fear – that Steve knows, that he can deal with on most days. Physical therapy was a nicely added new feature, it at least spiced things up a little. It’s also how Steve and Eddie ended up spending a lot of time together. Becoming friends with Eddie was surprisingly easy, falling for him – a slippery slope.

It's Eddie that suggested their little arrangement and it’s Eddie that has been vocal since the beginning that it’s nothing more than hooking up – blowing off steam, as he once called it. Happened only a handful times, too, and only after one or the other couldn’t sleep because of nightmares. So, really, it’s on Steve to get so attached to an idea that exists only in his own head.

Before they close up, Robin taps him on the shoulder. “You deserve better, Steve, okay? Someone who cares. Just – think about it.”

A slip of paper with a number finds its way into his pocket, second one today but first for a boy; some guy that Robin met via a mutual friend – Dorothy, or whatever. It weighs on his mind the whole drive to the trailer park but the moment Eddie opens the door, it really doesn’t matter anymore, does it?

For once, Steve wants to be in control. And with Eddie looking at his mouth the way he is, Steve feels wanted, desired, however illusory that really is. The kiss grows heated once they enter the trailer but the second he lays Eddie on the couch, a pair of hands pushes him away gently.

“We shouldn’t,” Eddie pants. “We- I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

Fuck.

part 2??

[kimbap-r0ll]

Hi again! I have another Idea and yes It’s feitan again I’m so sorry I love him and you do him wonderfully. Okay so my idea is either a a baking Date or picnic which ever is better for you. And as we are talking to him He says like I love you for the first time. Like during it he realized how much he liked y/n but when asked if he said it he Denys it even though y/n heard it clear as day. sorry if this doesn’t make sense .

Hi, thank you for the ask! It makes sense, no worries!

Feitan x reader - three simple words

He hated the idea of staying in one place for too long, it wasn't something he was used to anymore. However, after the troupe decided to split up and meet up again after a month, Feitan was forced to spend time alone. He asked Phinks and Shalnark if he could tag along, but they said to him "don't you have a date to take care of?"

Feitan was found with you during the month off of troupe duties. He spent most of the day reading your book collection and watching you do your daily activities. Finally, after you got fed up with him quietly peering over your shoulder without any mention of doing things together, you decided to do a stay-at-home date. Besides, it wasn't like he wanted to go out for dinner ever (he would ask if the two of you could just steal food instead).

"What's all of this?" he asked, pointing at the multiple boxes and containers sitting on your kitchen counter.

"Oh, it's what we're doing today! You and me, we'll be baking!" you smile at him, setting down the last few tools needed to make some delicious desserts. Feitan looked at you with confusion.

"Does it look like I bake?"

"You can always try something new? I saw you reading the baking book yesterday," you pointed out.

"...fine." Feitan glared at you, but you knew he wasn't upset, maybe a little embarrassed over something trivial. He did want to keep his deadly-torturer status alive and baking didn't always fit the image.

Both of you got started, deciding on making something simple because it was his first time. You asked him about sweets back in Meteor City, and he said they didn't have much but he did enjoy these cookies he would find from the collected food items or from the caretakers of the place. After some thorough details, you found out he was describing chocolate chip cookies, a staple for childhood memories.

"I didn't know you had a bit of a sweet tooth," you said while grabbing the flour.

"Not that I love them, I just remembered it from childhood," he replied. Of course, Feitan wasn't the type to enjoy sweets, that was Chrollo's job. However he did enjoy the occasional bit of sugary sweet goodness.

While he read you the ingredients you measured everything out. He would correct you from time to time when he didn't think you did it correctly (as if he knew how to bake though). For the eggs, he was surprisingly persistent on cracking them himself. Once it was all finished, you shaped the dough into little balls and placed them onto a tray and popped it into the pre-heated oven. It would take a few minutes before the whole flat that you lived in smelled like cookies.

"You haven't baked before, right? How is it so far?" you asked while sitting in front of the oven. It was a habit that you got into during your childhood, watching the cookies rise and expand was quite fun when you were younger. Feitan didn't answer right away, but he did give an approving nod.

"Meteor City didn't have a lot of opportunities like this, but we did try baking once," he said after a long pause. "Chrollo suggested it."

"How did it turn out?"

Feitan chuckled, shaking his head. "We almost burned the whole building down, sadly Chrollo was the only one that knew how to read the book and he read the time wrong."

You looked at him, he was smiling softly to himself, something extremely rare. While you wanted to tease him for looking so cute, you knew he would immediately go back to his deadpanned look so you kept it to yourself.

"We should do this more often," you suggested, leaning onto his shoulder as he was sitting next to you. He didn't push you off anymore, likely he was getting used to physical affection.

"...It would be nice," he replied, even quieter than he was talking before. "Because it makes it feel like I'm back home, I love you for the comf—" he stopped. Wait, was he getting sentimental? Emotional? No, he couldn't be talking like Chrollo, he hoped that his mumbling was bad enough that you didn't catch him, or maybe that his grammar was bad that you didn't understand him but with the way you suddenly straightened your back and whipped your head to look at him said otherwise.

"Wait, wait you just said...did you just say you 'love' me?!" you were grinning, you looked so happy that he felt his face redden.

"No, I wouldn't say some sappy shit like that," he quickly snapped back, he was getting pouty, a dead giveaway that he did in fact tell you those three words.

"Noo I heard you right I'm sure of it," you teased him. He gave you a quick glance but continued to glue his eyes onto the cookies that were baking in the oven.

"I did not, you didn't hear me say that."

"Then what did you say?"

"It's like home, that's it."

"No. you trailed off more than that!"

"I did not."

"Did so!"

Before the two of you could argue more the oven sounded off that the cookies were ready. Feitan stood up and opened the oven and because of how flustered he was he was about to grab the hot tray with his bare hands.

"Fei wait your hands!"

You ended up taking care of the cookies as he was sitting awkwardly at the counter. Thankfully he didn't burn himself because you pulled him back, however he was more thankful that your attention was on something other than the soft moment he got earlier.

The cookies looked amazing, however the sweetness was even better. It was a warm buttery taste that Fei had forgotten about, he was sure most of the troupe didn't remember how it was like to eat something fresh like this too. However, he was sure he was finding it sweeter than usual because you were with him, though he would never admit that nor make the mistake of letting you hear him say "I love you."