#and neither seemed satisfying as answers

[monster-noises]

8, 12, 13

8. What's an old project idea that you've lost interest in I have been trying to write a webcomic since I was in the 5th grade.. the veritable Graveyard I could walk you through... Gracious gracious.. But the last project I abandoned before I started working on Haggarty (and my numerous other current projects, don't Look at me ;;><;>) was called End of the Atlas! It was a sci-fantasy apocalypse adventure thriller? type thing? with a strong focus on interpersonal relationships and internal struggles against a backdrop of much larger circumstances (as many of my stories do) A planet that had only in the last few decades settled into relative peace after ages of war is beset upon by a cosmic force who wants to consume everything; With the luck of being in the wrong spot at the wrong time four (mostly) strangers have become the key to stopping the destruction and must face terrors both external and internal on their journey to the End of the Atlas (comical eyebrow waggle)

12. Easiest part of body to draw

This is going to sound Silly because they are just Cylinders, basically, but there are some subtle shapes to forearms I like to think I've gotten a pretty good grip on.. (genuinely I struggle with most parts of the body, even those I'm super familiar with T<T art is hard and yet I continue to do it...)

13. A creator who you admire but whose work isn't your thing

this is one of those questions that really confuses my ability to interpret what's being asked skdjgfhsg cause the answer could be 'No one comes to mind, because I tend to only keeps tabs on and engage with artists whose work resonates with me' if the classification we are going with here is like "art you recognize is Good and Skilled but you don't really like" Or the answer is ' basically the entire cast of drawfee' because watching them draw never stops being inspiring but, save maybe julia, none of them really do stuff that's like My Thing? but I still really like a lot of the art they make so? does that moot the point? so the answer is one of those two things sadfskdf

[chosocutegf]

Choso x fem!reader

cw: cunningulus

“Cho,” you murmur, glancing at your boyfriend who was sitting behind you. You were watching the latest film, on the couch with your lovely boyfriend, Choso.

However, he was distracting you with his hands under your t-shirt. “Mmh,” he hums, not looking away from the tv, but still playing with your soft tits as if they were an anti-stress. You sighed and brought your gaze back on the tv, trying to not think at his big hand playing with your nipples. You bit your lower lip and squirmed slightly in his lap, trying to adjust yourself when you felt heat pool between your legs.

His other hand was tracing little circles on your abdomen, and with the passing of time, it went lower until he reached the hem of your pants. You took a long breath, attempting to calm your racing heart, as the film faded into the background, adding to your annoyance at how your partner was stimulating you without satisfying you.

“You okay?,” Choso whispered against your ear, and you had to close your eyes to not think about his husky and sensual voice brushing against your skin. You nodded, humming softly when you felt his little grin against your ear. Asshole. He perfectly knew what he was doing. “Mhh, then stop squirming… you are distracting me,” he teased, before bringing his attention back on the tv.

You attempted to focus your attention back on the tv, but the events of the film were completely different from before, and you couldn’t stop thinking about his touch which was making you more aroused with the passing of time. Your breath hitched when you feel his fingers slip under the waistband of your pants but, before he could go lower, you slapped his hand away. “Hey,” he called you while chuckling, his deep voice rumbling against your back.

You glared at him and moved away to sit next to him, putting distance between the two of you. He looked at you properly in that moment, but you ignored him. “Baby,” he whined softly, leaning closer to you, already reaching out again with his hands towards you. However, before he could touch you, you swatted his hands away. “I want to watch the film, Cho,” you lied, keeping your gaze on the tv.

In your peripheral vision you could see Choso pouting slightly at you, not liking the way you were escaping his touch. After a few seconds you turned to him with a raised brow. “What?,” you asked innocently, which caused your boyfriend to huff before scooting closer to you on the couch. At that, you slid further away, closer to the couch’s arm.

“Stop moving away and let me touch you,” he said, a hint of whine in his voice. You chuckled at his attitude and shook your head, looking back at the tv, playfully ignoring him. “And don’t ignore me,” he went on, sliding closer to you.

You chuckled as you slid away again, until you reached the end of the couch. The film was still playing but neither of you was giving it attention anymore. When Choso saw that you were cornered, a grin appeared on his face, ready to pounce on you. “Now… will you let me take care of you properly?,” he murmured huskily, slowly sliding between your bent legs.

You bit your lower lip as you looked at him through half lidded eyes, while he leaned closer and captured your lips in a tender kiss. His body pressed closer to yours, purposely letting you feel his weight on top of you, cornering you against the couch. “I want to watch the film..,” you murmured against his mouth when he pulled back, and at your words, he raised his brows and smirked. “You sure? It doesn’t really seem that way though,” he whispered, leaning down to leave wet kisses against your neck.

Your eyes closed at the feeling and you let out a sigh, leaning your head back to give him more space. “It’s your fault,” you answered him, your voice low and already breathless. You felt his grin against your skin at your words, before he reached under your shirt again, slowly inching it up, uncovering your skin. You shivered at his big warm hands on your body.

“And why is that?,” he asked you, looking up at you with faux innocence. His hands reached your breasts, and he slowly circled your nipples with his thumb, waiting for your answer. Your breath hitched at the feeling, and you slightly arched your back. “Because…,” you started, but your voice died when he leaned down to kiss your left nipple first, then went to the right one. He was looking straight in your eyes while he did that and the sight made you even wetter than you already were. He grinned at your loss of words.

“Because?,” he prompted, smirking devilishly at you before he helped you remove your t-shirt. You took a deep breath while observing him go down your body, leaving soft kisses on your stomach and under your navel, still holding your gaze in his lustful one.

“Because… you are distracting me...,” you said, biting your lower lip when he reached the waistband of your pants. He hooked his fingers under it and slowly pulled them down, looking at you intently and nodding to signal you to go on.

But it was hard for you when he was looking at you so with his big dark eyes and he was touching you like you were his treasure. “… and that’s not fair because I was really interested in the film,” you murmured, not wanting to give up yet to the pleasure he was making you feel. He grinned at your words and clicked his tongue, removing your pants before he brought his gaze on your panties. There was a wet patch just above where your hole is, and at the sight, Choso’s cock throbbed in his pants.

“Don’t mind me then, keep watching the film… I just want to taste your sweet cunt,” he murmured, and at that you remembered of the film still playing in the background. However, when you moved your gaze towards the tv, he took that as an opportunity to slide your panties to the side and lick a long stripe along your pussy lips.

You gasped at the feeling and brought your gaze back on your boyfriend between your spread legs. “Fuck, baby… you are so wet, and all f’me?,” He murmured while brushing his nose against your clit and inhaling your scent. You let out a soft whine at him and brought your hands to his unbound hair. “Mmh…,” you moaned, grinding your hips against his face.

He brought his hands to your panties and lowered them down quickly. Without losing a moment, he latched his mouth to your pussy. He sucked on your hole before flicking his tongue against your clit. You moaned and gently tugged his hair, arching your back. “Slow down, Cho,” you whined, feeling yourself getting impossibly wetter at the eagerness of your boyfriend.

He shook his head, rubbing his nose against your clit before bringing his finger to your hole. “Sorry, you just taste so good, baby,” he muttered against your folds. He easily inserted two fingers inside of you, and you moaned at how big they were. You felt yourself already close from the way Choso was stimulating you, licking fat stripes against your clit while his fingers pumped inside of you fast.

You cried out in pleasure after he angled his hand better and started hitting your g-spot, while giving kitten licks to your clit. His eyes were closed, and in the haze you noticed how he was slightly rutting his hips against the couch. “Your cunt is so sweet, fuck,” he moaned against your skin.

You tugged his hair and arched your back when he started to suck on your clit, feeling your orgasm approaching. “Oh, god, baby…,” you moaned, throwing your head back against the cushions and grinding your hips against his face.

“Come for me, love,” he murmured against your cunt and soon after, you felt your body shivering from the intensity of your orgasm washing over you. Choso was looking up at you, grinning at the sight of you so lost in pleasure. He kept stimulating you with his fingers, prolonging your pleasure until he felt your body go limp against the couch. “Fuck...,” you said breathless, chuckling softly as you brought an arm to cover your eyes.

You felt the couch dipping on your sides followed by Choso’s lips against your jaw, kissing you softly. “You still want to watch the film?,” he asked in a murmur, and you moved away your arm, wrapping them around his neck. You brought him down and kissed his lips, moaning at the taste of yourself on him. When you pulled back, you smiled, rolling your eyes. “Shut up,” you said, and Choso chuckled softly before attacking your face with kisses.

(m.list)

[bluejutdae]

• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Felix x you

Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Jisung | Seungmin | Jeongin

genre: romance, best friend to lovers

warnings: none, except that i am not satisfied at all with this but I’ve read it so many times I’m starting to hate it. I might edit heavily later

The moment you park outside the restaurant Lixie is in, you press the call button. Faking an emergency is not too hard, you talk about a friend getting injured and at the hospital, exaggerating your tone and almost making Felix laugh.

He’s out in less than five minutes. Under his bright smile there’s something you can’t decipher. He gets in your car and just his presence makes you happy. Everyone loves Felix, and you’re not immune to his charm either. He’s always kind, generous, sweet and funny. You’re really lucky to have him in your life.

“Ice cream?”

“Yes, please.” It’s so funny to hear his deep voice in such a childish tone.

You don’t press for answers about his date during the drive to your favorite ice cream place, you put on some music and sing loudly with him. Save for that indecipherable look in his eyes, he seems pretty normal.

You take your ice creams and decide to take a walk on the riverside. The wind is pretty chill, but neither of you mind too much. It’s him who brings up the date he was on.

“The date… it was like a blind date. But I didn’t know it was a date until it was too late.”

“Uh- what?” It doesn’t make sense: how did he manage to go on a date without knowing?

“Hannie.” Yeah, maybe it makes sense. Jisung means well, but most of the time the execution is, at best, messy.

“How did he get you?”

“He begged me to go on a double date on the premise it was just because this girl he wanted to go out with was wary of going out alone with him so she’d bring a friend with, but we were supposed to be just wingmen. Or so he told me.”

He licks his ice cream and shakes his head.

“About 10 minutes before we were supposed to meet he called and told me it was a lie and it was a blind date…”

You’re not sure as to what to say. It is very on brand for Jisung, but you can also understand how frustrating it can be for Felix. He’s a sweetheart, he must have felt guilty for having unwillingly misled the girl.

“I couldn’t just leave and stand her up. She knew nothing about the lie, so it wasn't her fault.”

“Was she nice, at least?”

He nods, but he seems almost distracted. “She was nice. Pretty and funny, to be honest.”

“Why didn’t you stay, then?”

He slows down to a stop, and the moment you notice you turn around to look at him, a question on your face. He cleans his mouth with the small napkin and exhales with a small grimace.

“Lix?”

“Because I like you. And I’m not interested in other girls.”

He likes you. Felix likes you. And not in a friendly way. In a like like way. You weren’t expecting that.

“I-“ you start, but you don’t know how to continue that sentence. What do you say to your best friend who just said he likes you? Do you even like him? You’ve always been pretty good at keeping your feelings in check, so after knowing him, when it was clear you were headed towards just being friends, that’s what you set your mind -and your heart- to. He’s your friend, and you didn’t even ever consider more.

“I’m sorry. I’ve kept it from you for a while but I couldn’t anymore. That’s why Jisung insisted on this date. He was trying to distract me.” He turns slightly to watch at the river flowing fast but quietly. “Things don't have to change. If you don’t feel the same it’s okay, but I’d like to stay friends if you’re okay with that. I don’t wanna lose you.”

The idea of Felix losing you is ridiculous to you, nothing is ever gonna make you distance yourself from him. You try to tell him so by hugging him. “Lixie, we’ll always be friends, no matter what.”

You speak into his jacket, and maybe it’s easier this way.

“I thought we were only meant to be friends, so I didn’t even consider looking at you in a different way.” You can feel him tense under your hug. “Wait, wait, listen to me please.” Still hugging him you try to look at him, a smile on your lips. He’s your best friend, he’s the best person you’ve ever met. Being liked by him is an honor, and if you think about it, trying to be something more it’s not something that you hate.

“You’re my best friend, Lix. You know I love you, and I think you’re perfect. I never let myself think about you like that, but I know that if I give it a chance, it’d be so easy to fall in love with you romantically.”

“You don’t have to make yourself like me.”

“Don’t be silly. I’d be lucky to love you. Give me a chance?”

He’s smiling now, and he’s so so pretty like this. He’s always pretty, you tell him constantly, but when he smiles it’s his best look.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure Lixie. Let me take you out on a date? I promise to spoil you…”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you out?”

“It’s okay. You can ask next time.” You kiss him on his cheek and hold his hand, making him resume your stroll.

He really is easy to love, and not even a month later you ask yourself how you ever managed not to be head over heels in love with your best friend boyfriend.

[suashii]

— 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝓊𝓈𝓉 ౨ৎ

okkotsu yuta x f!reader. 2.1k wc. ﾉ nsfw (mdni) ﾉ characters aged 21+ ﾉ step-brother!yuta ﾉ stepcest ﾉ dubcon (via alcohol) ﾉ hand job ﾉ mentions of blow jobs

when your mother remarries and yuta comes into your life to fill the role of step-brother, you aren’t exactly sure what to expect.

you’ve never had a brother before, no one to threaten boys in an attempt to discourage them from breaking your heart or annoy you when you have friends over for the night. and you anticipate that he’ll fit the mold, fall into the standard that’s been set by your friends. as unfamiliar as you are with siblings of the male variety—you don’t consider yuta’s behavior as brotherly.

he’s kind, and you suppose that’s a trait that can be attached to brothers—but not in the way yuta is nice. there’s something… different about the way he smiles at you, like he’s thinking about things other than what you’re talking about, like there's something else on his mind that you aren’t privy to. it’s a pretty smile, you acknowledge every time you see, but it makes you a bit uneasy.

the things he does for you feel more like acts boyfriends take on—opening doors for you, zipping up your coat, offering to take your makeup off after a long day. it’s hard to turn him away or tell him no, especially when he insists on helping you out. how can you deny him when he wears a pout that’s practically begging for your permission to lend a hand? and, as he says, he’s your brother, after all.

you’re close, but not in the way siblings should be. he tells you a lot, things that he shouldn’t feel comfortable telling his sister, things about his relationships that you have no business knowing, that make your cheeks warm up and your teeth bite down on your lip. he asks about yours, too, curious to know whether or not the boys you bring around are satisfying you, “the way they should be,” he likes to say. you’re never quite sure how to answer him or just why he’s so interested in parts of your life that are meant to be private.

things have gotten even stranger since the two of you moved out of your parent’s home, relocating to live on your own and start lives outside of your family unit. yuta still makes an effort to visit you often, going out of his way to make sure the apartment you end up renting isn't too far from his. you’re sure that if it were up to him, he’d have you living in his spare room.

he’s over your place now with the intention of “catching up” despite seeing you only a week ago. his presence in your home has become a normal one, so much so that you’ve gone out of your way to get him his own pair of slippers and even make sure that your fridge is always stocked with enough food for two.

neither of you has paid the dinner you made much mind, you focusing on your wine and yuta focusing on you. you’ve almost gotten used to being the subject of his dark stare, but you’ll admit that meeting it is a little easier with alcohol in your system. another sip of the beverage is enough for you to find your voice. “so, how’s that girl you’ve been seeing?”

whether it’s because your living room is dimly lit or because you’re starting to feel the effects of the wine, you swear you see yuta deflate with your question. the lighting isn’t tricking you—his shoulders do slump a bit upon hearing your query. he knows he’s forthcoming with information regarding his relationships but he thought he made the fact clear; that all of these girls are simply placeholders for the one he truly wants. you don’t seem to have caught on. “i’m not seeing her anymore.”

you snort, swirling your wine in its glass. “what was it about this one?”

yuta’s turnover rate with girlfriends is something to gawk at—you don’t think you could count the number of women he’s wooed over the years even if you tried… not that you’ve ever found yourself keeping track. it should be a glaring red flag, how quickly he moves on from one to the next without batting an eye, but you merely chalk it up to him being a bit of a player. and that much should mean nothing to you. guys who sleep around aren’t your type and even if you didn’t mind the lifestyle, yuta is off-limits.

not that you’ve ever thought of him in that way.

yuta shrugs. “she just wasn’t right for me.”

“is anyone?” a giggle bubbles up from your chest and it makes yuta’s heart jump, bang against his ribcage like it’s trying to escape and make its way into your hands. he’s met with a sick thought, a little voice in the back of his head whispering that your hands are where his heart belongs. “you know, you’re super picky.”

he grins at your claim. it wouldn’t be untrue to say that he has acquired a specific taste, a fixed hunger, over the past few years. “picky” isn’t quite the right word—he prefers “particular”. “i’m not, i just know what i want.”

you nod, bringing your glass to your lips. “and what’s that?”

“you.”

the little bit of wine that made it into your mouth is sputtered back into the glass as yuta’s confession wafts through the air. you’re too busy trying to compose yourself to see the way the corners of yuta’s mouth twitch at your reaction—how his gaze falls to your lips to watch how you lick them to clean up the mess of wine.

 you’ve always thought that he’s treated you like someone other than a sister but you never imagined he’d come right out and say it, and so shamelessly, at that. your cheeks heat up as the single word hangs in the air, the warmth spreading up to the tips of your ears and some other place that you try not to acknowledge.

what’s worse, the admission doesn’t make your stomach churn in disgust. it doesn’t urge you to stand up and kick him out—tell him not to come back and leave you alone for good. because as much as you like to deny it, to push those sickening feelings down into the deepest, darkest depths of you, there’s a piece of you that feels the same.

“you’ve thought about it, too, haven’t you?” yuta’s voice cuts through the thick, suffocating air surrounding you. there’s an edge to his tone that you haven’t heard before that has you dragging your bashful gaze up to his.

“it’s okay.  there’s nothing wrong with it,” he reassures you as if he can hear the doubts swimming in your head like angry piranhas. his hand finds yours and you jump at the contact but you don’t pull away. the pad of his thumb runs over your knuckles, calloused skin comforting you in a way it shouldn’t as he continues. “we’re not actually related—only by title.”

“yeah but… what would people think?” it’s taboo, you know that much—it’s why you’ve been so hellbent on suppressing those nagging feelings of attraction throughout the years. though, with his confession now out in the open, those very feelings are trying to crawl their way up from the depths of your chest—they’re surfacing.

“no one has to know.” yuta lightly shakes his head to emphasize his point. the eyes staring you down are glistening with desire, like your question has given the man hope for a long sought-after fantasy. “we can keep it between us… our little secret.”

you chew the inside of your cheek as you ponder over his suggestion. the rational part of you is screaming to snatch your hand away and point him to the door but the part of you led by longing and lust urges you to stay put, to see this through. the two thoughts are like a floating angel and devil on each of your shoulders, both of them whispering in your ear, playing tug-of-war to see which side will win your favor. 

the push you need to make a decision comes in the form of yuta himself, the man lifting your hand from your lap to his lips. a light kiss brushes your knuckles before he guides your palm to the tent between his legs. you suck in a surprised gasp at the contact your hand makes with the hard bulge.

 “see what you do to me?” yuta breathes out, light and airy, “only you can do this to me.” 

a twisted sense of pride sprouts in your chest upon hearing his declaration. yuta has never hidden the fact that you’re special to him but you never imagined just how special that was. the statement gives you the confidence to touch him of your own will, hand tentatively rubbing over his clothed erection.

yuta lets out a shattered breath and the sound has your hand stilling and your gaze darting up to his—like a bunny spooked by unexpected commotion. his free hand makes its way up to cradle the side of your face, thumb running up and down your cheek. “keep going, baby.”

you swallow and nod your head, hand picking up where it left off in its exploration over his jeans. as pretty as the quiet moans yuta releases into the air are, you can’t help but think it would feel better—for the both of you—if there wasn’t a denim barrier between the two of you.

your fingers reluctantly reach for his belt before pausing in their path. you look up at him through your eyelashes. “c-can i?”

yuta didn’t think it was possible for him to get even more turned on—not after your initial acceptance, not after he finally felt your touch, but your questions has his pants growing uncomfortably tighter. you’ve always been cute in his eyes but your asking for permission gives him all the more reason to find you absolutely adorable. “please.”

dark eyes follow your fingers as they fumble to unbuckle the man’s belt. you’re not sure whether your shaky hands are due to nerves or excitement but the trembling doesn’t go unnoticed by yuta and when you get his pants and boxers down his hips, he places a steady hand on your quivering one.

it’s warm and big around yours and you don’t question his action, only let him take your hand, guide it to the cock you’ve just pulled out. you’re no longer afraid to admit that you’ve thought about it before—what yuta’s cock looked like. it’s different seeing the real thing and you find your mouth drying with the sight, lips parted as yuta continues to steer your hand.

both of you gasp when your palm meets his skin, dragging beads of precum down yuta’s shaft with his guidance. beyond your mingled breaths, the lewd squelching that accompanies each assisted stroke of yuta’s cock sounds in the otherwise quiet air.

yuta grunts as he helps you jerk his cock, a pleasure he’s never felt before washing over him. “f-fuck—” he chokes out, “i knew you’d feel this good.”

your hand alone is better than any mouth or pussy he’s been in—it fits like a glove, fingers grazing every vein just right, brushing over his slit, squeezing his shaft. god—if your hand feels this good, yuta can only imagine what it’ll be like to have your lips wrapped around him, to be buried in the warmth of your cunt. he wonders if you know just what effect you have on him, if you’re aware of how much of a mess the mere thought of you turns him into. 

the moment you look up at him with those doe-ish eyes of yours, he can’t hold out any longer.

and with a series of strangled moans, yuta comes, ropes of warm cum shooting over your joined hands. you can feel him soften in your hand as you stroke his cock through his high, his musical whimpers meeting your ears.

when he finds his voice, yuta speaks up. “made me come so good.”

his hand finally lifts from yours and you’d complain about the cold, empty feeling if it wasn’t relocated beneath your chin. yuta tips your head up, leaning down to steal a kiss. his lips are pillowy and soft as they dance with yours and you moan into his mouth when his tongue seeks yours. it’s a messy, wet kiss, but one that has you yearning for more—more of his lips, more of his cock, more of him.

you let out a muffled squeal when you feel yourself reclining, yuta’s weight and imposing presence hovering above you as you come to lie back on the couch. you suck in a breath after yuta pulls away. he presses his forehead against yours, meeting your widened gaze.

“let me take care of you, baby.”

heyooo ! this is my first time writing a solo piece for yuta — it was fun! hope you enjoyed and if you did, consider reblogging and offering some feedback :3

[thecharacterchronicler]

Like An Evening Sky || Ominis Gaunt X Reader || Smut

Outline: You ask Ominis to be your date for the ball and he feels sorry that he can’t see how beautiful you are... So you help him get a much more detailed and intimate idea of what you look like.

Word Count: 2’624

Warnings: friends to lovers, explicit smut.

For the past few months, all you heard about was that the Yule Ball was coming up. Students were excitedly - and constantly - chatting about it, planning their outfits or gossiping about who will be accompanying who, it pretty much was the event of the year for those who were old enough to attend.

You had been thinking about it too, of course, but more cautiously than the others. You usually dodged the persistent questions of your friends, asking who you were hoping would ask you or why you had refused to go with Leander, which might have been your only chance of having a date.

Now a few days before the event, you still weren’t sure if you’d bother attending, even though you had promised Natsai that you’d at least dress up and go to enjoy the buffet with her.

The library was quiet, with the faint sounds of whispers and pages being turned around you, you thought that you would have felt at peace, sheltered from the buzzing energy of other students preparing for the dance, but you found yourself mulling over it way more than you wanted. The main cause of your growing frustration happened to be sitting right across from you, focused on reading an ancient book with the help of his wand.

Ominis probably was the only last year student who didn’t mention the Yule Ball coming up once. Or if he did, he never talked about it with you. Which made it even more annoying than his apparent lack of interest in it. Ominis was supposed to be your friend, your best friend even, and yet you had no idea if he was planning to go and who he had asked on a date. And to make the matter worse, he didn’t seem to care about who you were planning to go with either.

“Ominis ?” You whispered, finally gathering the courage to satisfy your curiosity, even if it meant potentially feeling very upset because of his answers.

“Yes ?” His wand stopped following the sentences in his book and his pale eyes lifted to look in your direction, showing you that you had his full attention.

“Are you going to the ball ?” You asked, nervously doodling with your quill at the top of the parchment you were writing on.

“I… No, I don’t think so. Are you ?” He replied, his voice hesitant, making you wonder if he was hiding soemething from you or if he really hadn’t given the ball a single thought until today.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, faking a detached tone. “But if you want to go, maybe we could go together ?”

You saw his eyes widen in surprise, a faint pink blush bringing color to his usually pale face.

“Uh, I guess we can… If you want.” He agreed and you let out a relieved sigh that you were sure he unmistakably noticed.

“Very well.” You said, loudly gathering your things and standing up from your seat. “Ill see you later.”

And with that, you rushed out of the library, hiding your silly smile behind your books and leaving him to study by himself, still a bit confused by your attitude.

●○●○●○●○●○●

You spent the evening before the ball in your dorm with Natsai, nervously getting ready, trying on the dress she had convinced you to buy during your last shopping trip to Hogsmead and getting your hair up in a sophisticated updo.

Natsai didn’t pester you about your date as much as you had expected her to. When you had told her and Garreth that you had asked Ominis, neither of them seemed surprised by your choice, only by the fact that neither of you had asked each other before. Was it so obvious to everyone that you had a crush on your best friend ? And did they think he liked you back ? Because frankly, even though he had agreed to accompany you tonight, you still weren’t sure if he was doing it for the sake of your friendship or because he was hoping for something more.

You walked to the temporary ballroom with your classmates, already hearing the music seeping through the closed doors and the laughters of students resonating against the walls. Up in the stairs, you spotted a group of first years, peeking from behind the railing with curious eyes. You smiled to yourself, remembering when you were their age, dreaming about attending this event too.

“I guess we’ll see you inside.” Natsai said, bringing your attention back to your trio. You followed her gaze to the opposite hallway, immediately noticing the handsome man standing there, in a immaculate white suit. You heart leaped in your chest. Ominis really was here and he was waiting for you.

Garreth and Natsai left you, arm in arm, as they entered the party. You took a deep breath and joined Ominis, as happy to see him as it was making you nervous.

“Good evening.” You greeted, once standing in front of him. “That suit looks very nice on you.”

He gave you a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, a twinge of sadness passing on his face.

“And I’m sure you look beautiful too tonight… Not that you don’t look nice on other days, I’m sure you do… What I’m saying is that you must have put in some big efforts to look even better and err… Forget it.”

You laughed, finding it cute how flustered he got with his attempt to compliment you. It was pretty unusual to see him lack self confidence and not express himself in perfect, almost diplomatic sentences. You thanked him anyway and looped your arm with his, guiding him to the ballroom.

You stood in awe at the entrance for a moment, amazed by how beautiful it looked inside. The room had been decorated in a winter theme, the snow falling from the enchanted sky above and the flickering of all the candles around making it look like you had stepped into a fairytale. You turned to Ominis, wondering if he was impressed too but the lack of reaction on his face reminded you that he couldn’t see how breathtaking it all was.

Students were dancing, others were excitedly chatting in groups and a few others were hanging by the buffet of sweets and various options of beverages. You found some of your classmates, talked and laughed together and shared a few dances with Ominis, who seemed to enjoy himself. Mostly.

But after two hours at the ball, alternating between dancing and filling your mouth with candies you never tried before, your date’s behavior changed, becoming a bit more distant and less talktative.

“Are you feeling unwell ?” You asked him, worried by how distraught he suddenly seemed.

“No… Yes.” He admitted, reluctantly. “All those people around, the music, the chatter… It’s a bit much for me too keep up with.”

“Oh, of course.” You nodded, only now understanding that he must feel overwhelmed by it all, his senses so much more sensitive than yours to compensate for his lost vision. He probably knew he’d end up feeling this way if he attended the ball, which explained why he had been trying to avoid it but he had agreed to go with you because he was a good friend and you felt awfully guilty about it now. “Let’s go outside.”

With your arm looped with his again, you guided him out of the ballroom and into the quiet gardens of the castle. The stars were brightly shining in the night sky and although the air was a bit chilly, it felt nice to escape the warmth and humidity of the party for a while.

You walked to an alcove, where you both sat on a stone bench, sheltered by the cold winter breeze and far away enough from the doors to only hear faint music reaching your ears.

“That’s much better, thank you.” Ominis said, looking indeed relived but sadness remained in his expression. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to ruin your night. It’s alright if you’d rather go back inside and dance with someone else while I take a break here.”

“Don’t be silly, you’re not ruining anything and I’d much rather stay with you, I don’t care that much about dancing or partying anyway.”

“You don’t ?” He asked, confused again. “Why did you ask me to attend with you then ?”

“Because it sounded nice to spend some more time with you.” You replied, honestly. It had been a while you hadn’t been just the two of you together , maybe because he had been avoiding talks about the Yule Ball and therefor avoiding you and your friends as well.

“With me ?” He repeated, as if he couldn’t quite believe you. “Why would you want to have me as a date ? I’m not exactly a social butterfly and I can’t appreciate how lovely you must look tonight. I heard Leander and Garreth whispering about you earlier, they said you were the most beautiful girl in there but me ? I have no idea what you look like, not tonight, not at all.”

“I’m sorry Ominis, I didn’t know it mattered to you.”

“It doesn’t, not really. I think you’re amazing because of who you are, not what you look like… I just think it’s a shame you look so beautiful and I don’t get to enjoy it like the others do. Especially tonight, you probably have a nice hairdo and you must be wearing a gorgeous dress but it’s all the same to me.”

“Very well then.” You stood up and placed yourself in front of him, reaching for his hand and bringing it to your waist.

“What… What are you up to ?” He asked, barely daring to touch you, even with your permission.

“I want to show you what I look like, in a way that works for you.” You explained, gently moving his hand to the front of your dress so that he could feel the pearls sewn on the fabric underneath his fingers.

He seemed to understand what you were expecting of him and soon, his curiosity took over his cautionary nature. He followed the pearls from your hips up to your stomach, really feeling the different textures he touched.

“Your dress is soft.” He stated, moving upwards until he reached the opening of the low neckline. He tentatively stroked your bare skin there with two fingers, a satisfied smile appearing on his lips as he did. “But it isn’t as soft as your skin.”

“It’s… A dark blue dress.” You told him, wondering if he even knew what this color looked like. Maybe it didn’t matter, but you felt compelled to say something, anything, just to encourage him to keep going.

“Like an evening sky.”

You took a step closer, standing between his legs and his other hand joined his exploration of your body. He traced the outline of your silhouette, going from your hips all the way up your sides and softly grazing your cleveage. Your breath caught in your throat at the more intimate touches which caused him to stop them.

“No, keep going. Please.” You whispered, your voice guiding his eyes to yours. With his face lifted up to you, as you stood over him, you could easily reach for his blond hair and push back the stray piece falling on his forehead.

He listened, his hands resuming their wandering up your body, caressing your chest before heading downwards, back to your hips, and then to your thighs, noticing and taking in all the curves and lines of your body.

In the darkness of this starry winter night, with nothing but the light of the moon to illuminate his white form, you dared do the one thing he never found the courage to do himself and leaned over to plant a kiss on his lips.

The kiss was just as soft and gentle as his touch once his surprise faded and he pulled you even closer. You heard him whisper your name as you both came up for air, so you kissed him once more to show him that you were still there with him.

That second kiss seemed to ingnite a forgotten passion inside him, his lips pressing harder on yours as he pulled you once more, but with much more strength than before. You landed on his lap and you felt his arms around your waist securing you on top of him.

It was your turn to whisper his name, as his hand grew a lot more confident in the way it roamed over your body. After a few more feverish kisses, he pulled the fabric of your dress up your legs. You shivered at the feeling of the cold night air on your previously covered skin but the way his fingers now danced over your bare skin instantly warmed you up.

“Are we all alone ?” Ominis asked, between two breathless kisses.

You looked around, checking your surroundings as well as you could from your seat on his lap, under the alcove you had find refuge in.

“I think so… Why ?” The question had escaped your lips before you even realized it, causing an amused smile to appear on Ominis’s face.

“Because if I manage to get some satisfied sounds out of you, I want to be the only one to hear them.” He said, his good manners and cautious vocabulary long gone. His answer sent a wave of intense heat through your body, burning your cheeks.

He moved his hand under your dress, reaching for your underwear and interrupting his caress just shy of the hem. “May I ?”

“Please.” You begged, spreading your legs slightly further apart to grant him better access to your center.

He kissed you at the same time that his fingers moved inside your panties, exploring the most intimate part of your body with eagerness. He slipped between your folds, easily finding your clit and gently rubbing it between his fingers, making you exhale in shocked pleasure. You closed your arms around his shoulders, burying your face against him as he kept playing with you, your need for relief slowly but surely increasing with each of his movements.

You were pretty sure that it couldn’t get any better than that, with his palm adding pressure to your entrance while his fingers were expertly torturing your clit but he proved you wrong as soon as he pushed one of his elegant fingers inside of you.

You closed your eyes, surprised by the intensity you felt in the pit of your stomach as he reverently moved it back and forth inside you. You were getting used to the sensation, and your body was too judging by how it was becoming increasingly easier for his finger to glide in and out of your body.

Then, he added a finger to the one already there and your body shook with pleasure. You moaned quietly against him, which seemed to encourage him to thrust his fingers into you even deeper, with rapid movements you could barely keep track of.

“Ominis.” You whimpered, against his neck, feeling his grip on you tighten to hold you in place on top of him. A few more seconds and the dam inside you broke, flooding your whole body in numb pleasure. You put a hand on top of where his still was, to stop the motions that you couldn’t take anymore and he understood, putting your panties as they were and gently kissing your forehead as you still tried to catch your breath.

[literaila]

hey

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you're both drunk and (not) in love

warnings: alcohol mentions, angst if you're me, fluff, nonsensical conversation

a/n: i will be messing with this later but if i have to think about it for any longer i'll cry (also listen to be (acoustic) because i said so)

last part | next part

*

year four.

the house is almost silent, tonight. 

usually, at close to midnight, it's quiet. the house will buzz as the furnace works, the house settling itself into the earth, but there's none of the laughter that echoes throughout the hallways like it does during the day. no names being yelled across a threshold, much too loud for the size of the house itself. 

the kids are always in bed this late, and usually you and satoru are too--besides the nights where you stay up talking or arguing, speaking with soft voices for so long that your throat is sore by morning.

those are the nights when you fall asleep on the couch together, or you migrate to one of your rooms, speaking nothing of the broken rules in your relationship. 

satoru's bed is a lot more comfy than yours, anyway. his blankets are heavier and his pillows are fluffier. 

or that's what you usually think to yourself in the morning when you wake up there once again. it's an excuse, sure, but at least it's more reasonable than reality. 

but tonight is quiet because the kids aren't home. and it's almost midnight, and the two of you are just walking in through the door. 

and, admittedly, you're a little bit drunk. 

"don't--" you say, laughing languidly, tripping over satoru's legs as he pushes the door open. it took him five tries to unlock it, but you don't say anything, because everything looks a bit uneven. "don't forget to shut it all the way."

satoru ignores you. "why are all of the lights off?" 

you step over the tiny shoes left by your front door, almost tripping on air, and flick on the lights. you squint at the brightness, groaning.

but the lights do nothing to ease the eerieness of the hallway. 

you can't remember the last time you came home this late. the last time you had a night without the kids. 

it's probably why the two of you went a little overboard at the bar. but it's hard to keep up with shoko anyway, so it's not really your fault. 

satoru hiccups. "why don't we have night vision?" 

"humans suck," you answer, trying to kneel to take off your shoes, which are pinching at your feet. 

"true," he says, kicking his own sneakers against the wall. his jacket is already off, and on a normal night you would chastise him for not hanging it up, but at the moment you've kind of forgotten about the coat rack. 

and how to think properly. 

"did you--" you shake your head, looking at satoru, who seems to be upside down. "did you lock the door?" 

"of course i did, i'm not a heathen." 

but you see him rattle the doorknob, clumsily, and that must satisfy you because you walk out of the hallway, into the living room, which is just as dark as the rest of the house. 

it's strange that no one else is home. strange that there's no one to tuck in, no room to peek your head in before you pass out. 

"how late is it?" you ask satoru, who's following so closely behind you that you almost fall back into him when you stop. 

"dunno." 

"is there someone here? i feel like i'm in a horror movie," you turn to satoru, who's squinting around like he'll be able to see something in the dark room. "where are your glasses?" 

"dunno," he says, with a grin. and then hiccups again. 

you roll your eyes, but grab his hand as you pull him along the house, trailing to one of your rooms--you can't remember which--and forcing yourself to take off your socks before you climb into bed. 

it's a good thing that both of the kids are gone because neither of you are exactly quiet as you walk through the house. satoru is tripping every step, and you're holding onto all of the walls trying not to do the same. 

seriously, neither of you ever get out. 

and, in the blink of an eye, you're in someone's bed--hopefully yours--nuzzling yourself under the blankets. your head is swirling, and you can't see anything, but satoru is there, you think, because you can feel him. 

like a buzz on your skin as his hand trails up your arm, and he pulls you into him, probably. it's all fuzzy. and you don't care what he's doing anyway--you trust him, even drunk. 

"i'm never drinking again," you mumble as you turn, wiping something off of your face.

satoru laughs. his breath on the side of your cheek makes you blink. "you said that last time, i think." 

"i was right." 

"lightweight," he teases like he isn't slurring the word. 

he's so very close, and yet, you curl your leg around his, trying to get yourself even closer. 

satoru doesn't complain as you move, as fast a dream, and then you're lying on top of him. 

maybe it's not his bed. maybe he's the comfortable one. 

you blink hazily at his smile and press a chaste kiss on his jaw like it's an appropriate thing to do. 

you can't think of anything to say, so you just hum into his skin as you settle in. you kinda want to lick him.

"why're you so cold?" he asks you, rubbing your arms. 

you don't respond. 

being with him is like walking on top of everything else. walking on nothing at all, actually. 

his hands wrap around your waist, secure and sure, like he's never hesitated a day in his life. and you think, just for a moment, that you've never been warm like this.

that maybe you've been living in a tundra. maybe that feeling in your core has been frozen for so long, and satoru is the only thing warm enough to defrost it. 

but it takes a long time. that hurt, that fear eased in the edges of your soul cannot be cleared out with a single burst of flame. 

though satoru is not one single thing. 

but, nonetheless, his hands on you, holding you to him, are enough for now. 

his eyes--with nothing to stop them from reaching you, like a blindfold or lens--have always been far more than you wanted. 

but he's looking at you, so you can't think about any of it.

you want to tell him something, but you’re not sure what. there’s something in your mouth, ready to come out. but it stays hidden, a secret you’re keeping from even yourself.

his eyes are on yours, focused and sure, pupils blown.

you kind of want to laugh at him, because inhibitions make you giddy. and satoru has always been something that excites you. 

his face echoes with the memories of two children, two foolish kids who never understood just how good they had it. 

have it. 

"do you think i'm strong?" satoru asks you, still slurring, and he's joking. he's been quiet for a while, so you don't know where this is coming from. on a normal night, you'd probably be concerned about the question. 

but tonight you just giggle against him, tracing the slope of his eyebrow, which makes his face twitch. 

with your other hand, you pretend to feel around his arm like you'll find anything but muscle. "hmm," you pinch his bicep, giddy when he flinches from your touch. "i guess. might wanna hit the gym, though." 

you think you might die from just the way he's looking at you. 

"you're a bad liar," satoru grins at you. he's breathing heavily through his mouth like you've exhausted him. 

"so are you," you tell him. 

"says who?" he asks, and he's lying to you right now. 

"me. remember when you tried to convince me that you painted that portrait in the hallway?"  

"i did," satoru swears, but he shakes his head as he says it, looking away. 

a bit of reprieve for you, but you still tilt his chin back. you want his eyes.

"see? bad liar." 

"i get it from you." 

you grin at him, not sure what it means. 

"if you died, would you come back to haunt me?" satoru asks you, suddenly. like the question is significant, in some way. 

"if i die you'll already be a ghost," you say to him, "because you're dying first." 

"no, i'm not." 

"do you want me to die?" 

he pretends to think about it. "well, no, i guess. but if you did, would you haunt me?" 

"definitely. i'd throw things around the house for you to clean up. and mess with your conditioners." 

"so you're an evil ghost." 

"just a bit of karma for letting me die." 

"i'd avenge you," satoru argues. 

"i don't want to be avenged," you roll your eyes. "just keep me alive."

"oh, yeah. guess i could do that." 

"you guess?" 

"i mean... it's a lot of work. i'll have to look at my schedule." 

"next time i go on a mission i'm going to come back hurt just to see you freak out. maybe i'll lose a limb. or some brain damage? which is worse?" 

satoru, who squirms around a paper cut, gives you a plagued look. "i'm going to tell yaga about the threats you're making." 

"like he'd believe you." 

"i'll lock you in the basement. you'll never go on another mission again. there, i solved our problem. you never leave the house and i don't have to worry about keeping you alive." 

"we don't have a basement." 

"oh. right," he frowns. then he blinks, and the smile is back. 

"also, i keep you alive every day. you can't return the favor?” you sigh. “i'm being exploited." 

he raises a brow. 

"who do you think hides all of the sweets?" you ask him. "the kids aren't eating all of those." 

"where'd you put my pocky?" 

"you'll never know." 

"i'll torture you for information. i know where you're ticklish." 

you squirm away from his seeking hands, but don't move. you grasp one, stopping him from touching any further than your side. "i'm not scared of the man who won't even remove his hair from the drain after he showers." 

satoru makes a face. "but it's all slimy and weird." 

"it's your hair! stop making megumi do it." 

"i feed him. he can help out." 

you have to keep yourself from giggling again, like a foolish girl who’s in love with her best friend.

you roll your eyes and fall flat against him, letting go of his hand, even though it's very soft, and you relax on his chest. there's a moment where satoru settles into this--into you--and then his hands begin to roam the expanse of your back.

"if i was a ghost," satoru whispers, "i would lay on top of you in the morning so you couldn't get out of bed." 

"like a sleep paralysis demon?" 

"yup." 

"dont you already do that?" 

he licks his lips. "it'd be scarier if i was invisible." 

"can ghosts touch people? i don't think they're tactile." 

"i'm not like a normal ghost." 

"not like normal anything." 

satoru nudges his nose against your forehead in retaliation, but he doesn't argue. it's not like he can, anyway. 

"hey," you whisper, after a moment. you're looking up at him, admiring the slopes and concaves of his face at this angle. his eyes almost make his face glow, his own personal light. 

"hey." 

"do you think the kids are awake right now?" 

"no," satoru sighs. "nanami probably put them to bed at six. after feeding them straight broccoli." 

"i told him their routine..." you mumble. "i think." 

"d'ya think megumi'll haunt us?" 

"he'll never die," you tell him, "just out of spite." 

"true." 

"you can't haunt him, okay?" you say, very seriously, giving him a flat look, which he laughs at. "when you die he deserves some peace." 

"no promises." 

you poke his chest but have no answer. actually... you're not even really sure what you're talking about. or that it matters. 

there’s something in your mouth, ready to come out.

but satoru is still warm. he smells like bitter alcohol and bubblegum. 

"hey," you whisper, again, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. you’re not sure what you’re doing.

he is blurry this close, but you can still see all of him. you'd know his face if you went blind, behind a mask. you could black out--you probably will--and he'd still be there. 

"hey," he murmurs back. his voice is like a punch to the throat. but his smile is effortless.

"you're pretty," you whisper, as you think it. "and sweaty." 

satoru's looking down at you, and his smile stays the same. his breath is on your face, sugary sweet. "so are you." 

"i know." 

satoru laughs, his knuckles running across your cheekbone. it almost makes you shiver. "pretty," he whispers like it's a joke. 

"why're your eyes so blue?" 

"wavelengths, or something. didn't you pay attention in school?" 

you laugh, shaking your head at him. it's funnier than it should be. 

"don't you like my eyes?" he asks, suddenly pouting. 

"yeah. they're like a nightlight. 's never dark." 

his eyes are probably your favorite thing in the world, you don't say, 'cause you can't think. his eyes are unimaginable, and so close to you.

satoru swallows, shaking his head. "that's all i am to you?" 

"and a teddy bear. you're comfy." 

satoru hiccups, but holds you closer, smiling against your forehead. "good." 

there's a couple of minutes where the two of you bask in the silence. the quiet is a nice break from it all. and you're both so drunk that the usual fears can't seem to make their way in. 

not the way they usually doing, plaguing your body. fear is just something that is, right now. nothing to be afraid of.

but, even so, you've never felt so safe. or so sleepy.

and this time, it's satoru who whispers, "hey." 

"hey," you say, back. you smile at him. his fingers trace circles on your back. or maybe he's writing something. you can't tell. 

it feels nice, though. 

"i like you," he says. and you're not sure if he means in general, or here, in his bed with him. maybe it's a question. 

it doesn't matter. 

"i like you too. hey?" 

satoru just hums this time. you can tell that he's about to fall asleep, because his eyelashes flutter shut, and his breathing has begun to even out. 

"satoru," you say, again, because you want to see his eyes just one more time before you fall asleep on top of him. 

you have to say something. it could be the alcohol, but it might be just you.

"yeah?" 

"i think i'm in love with you," you say, and you mean it but it's not what you meant to say. but you're half-asleep, about to drool on his chest, so you can't even contemplate the words. 

is it drunk and in love? or drunk on love? 

you can't remember. 

you could probably kiss him right now. he’s close enough, and you’ve always wanted to. but, even this version of you knows that it would be a bad idea. so you don’t. and you don’t think about what you’ve just admitted.

satoru's smile is vicious, as it begins to blur. you can feel his heart beating against your fingertips. "yeah?" he whispers, and you're not sure why he sounds breathless.

you nod against him. 

"me too," he murmurs, and you can't think about what it means. he whispers something else that you don't hear.

because the two of you fall asleep just then, and the words don't really mean anything. 

just, you know, everything. 

*

in the morning, your head pounds. 

one of you left the blinds open last night, so the sun wakes you up, shining through the trees outside. your mouth is dry, and your throat burns, like you swallowed knives. 

and you're still on top of satoru, and you remember exactly how you got there. 

he's groaning when you begin to move, holding you closer. and this isn't all that unusual. 

but when he opens his eyes, there's a daze in them. some secret he's thinking about as he looks at you. 

and you both forget to mention that you remember the night before. and everything that was said. 

you probably shouldn't talk about it with a hangover, anyway. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[im-ovulating]

(A/n: I have no excuse or reason for this, but here ya go! lmao)

Word Count: 991

Summary: Even in death, Tate can't seem to shake his mother's insults. He DOES know how to make your legs shake, though.

Warnings: Praise Kink, Mommy Issues, Use of 'good boy" and 'pretty boy', Both Tate and Reader are a switch, Tate's a pretty crier

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

(yes he gets 2 gifs, what about it?)

Tate Langdon x Fem! Reader: Shake

----------------

"-fuck!"

You spread your legs a bit more to take him deeper, both of you gasping out at the new sensation.

"I'm good, right? I'm good for you?" Tate is in shambles beneath you. A run-in with the ever-deprecating Constance left him in desperate need of some positive female praise and you couldn't just say 'no' to the tear-stained, brown eyes that begged for your comfort.

"Ah~" A smile breaks across your face as you lean down to pepper kisses along Tate's jaw. "You wanna be good for me? Wanna be my good boy, Tate, hmm?"

His cock twitches in you as you make it to his lips, lightly biting down on his bottom lip before lifting up just enough to make eye contact.

His hips jerk up to meet yours at a particularly hard thrust of your hips. "God- Yes! Wanna be so good for you! Wan' you t' use me. Use me any way you want; I'm yours! Mmh, hah."

You slide your hands up his chest to tug at his shaggy, blonde hair. "Just lay there and look pretty for me, then, hm? Can you do that for me, my sweet, pretty boy?"

He takes a second to answer, focused on how ethereal you look straddling him; using his body as you please, knowing how to bring both of you over the edge.

That's one of his favorite things about you: When he needs you to take the lead, he knows that you'll only take what you both need. That you'll command without controlling. That you understand his vulnerability and will only push him as far as he needs you to.

A groan is punched out of Tate as you clench around him, effectively snapping him out of it. "I can- ohh..."

Satisfied with his answer, you press a searing kiss to his waiting mouth. It's all tongue and teeth but neither of you care, too wrapped up in each other to mind. You slide your hands from his hair to caress his cheek.

"Such a good boy~" You singsong as you sit back, moving your arms behind you to support your weight on his thighs as you slam your hips against his with more vigor. His moans sending shock waves down your spine, settling in your already soaked core.

His hands move to grip your hips hard enough to bruise, but all it does is spur you on.

"Fuck, fuck- Please~" He shifts underneath you, causing his pelvis to rub deliciously against your clit.

"Oh god~ Tate!" Your head drops forward at the spike of pleasure.

You grab one of his hands to bring to your clit, desperate for the stimulation again.

Determined to be the best he can be for you, his finger works in tandem with every gyrate of your hips to tighten the coil forming in your core.

Ever the expert of your body, Tate helps you spiral towards your climax faster than you anticipated. You're gasping for breath as your walls start to clamp down on his cock impossibly tighter.

Tate lets out a groan at the feeling, his head pushes back against the pillow, thumb still rubbing firm circles on your clit. His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he tries not to cum.

"Don't stop baby... oh fuck, please," His plea is hoarse and gravelly as he starts to properly slam him hips up to meet yours.

"Wasn't- AH- planning on it." You let out a breathy moan as you fight the forming burn in your thighs, trying to focus on the heat curling inside you like an inferno instead.

"Oh- Fu- I'm so close baby. Please tell me you're close too." You can hear the strain in his voice. "Wanna cum with you~"

You're tensed like a rubber band being stretched to its limits as you try to keep pace. Your legs are shaking with the exertion, and you can barely lift yourself up.

"Tate- Tate, oh god, Tate!" His name is spilling from your lips like a Hail Mary in a mixture of content and desperation.

"What do you need, beautiful?" Tate pants. "Just tell me- tell me what you need from me and it's yours."

It's now that your legs decide to give out with one last quiver, dropping you against his torso. Without missing a beat, Tate flips you on your back, resting on his forearms as he takes over.

The sound of your heavy breathing fills the room along with the obscene squelching of Tate's cock as it pistons in and out of you and it's all you can do to not scream his name for the whole neighborhood to hear.

Almost instantly, Tate's boxing you in - arms flexing beside your head as he pounds into you. Your hands pull at his hair, dragging him closer to press his searing lips to yours once more.

"Good boy," you mumble into the kiss, broken moans leave the both of you just to get swallowed by the others mouth. "So good for me~"

Tate moves to bury his face into your neck, small cries mixed in with his groans and whimpers. "I'm good? Your good boy? Only yours?"

His questions start to get more frantic as his hips start to jackrabbit; his fingers digging even further into your skin as you both near your climax.

"Pleasepleaseplease-" he whines, begging you to cum with him.

And who are you to deny him such a simple request? Especially when he asks oh so politely.

"Cum, Tate -" you gasp. "Be a good, sweet boy and cum for me?"

And he does; a wet sob rips its way from his throat as he buries himself inside you, coating your insides with the pretty pearl of his spend. The heat flooding you is just enough to tip you over the edge as well - your nails scratch down his back as your head tilts against the pillow and your thighs tighten around his waist.

[ellecdc]

Hey L saw your requests were open and was wondering if i can ask for regulus black dating headcanons? (You know one of those long, long headcanons that you can’t finish while reading bc i love reggie so much and there aren’t enough fics for him-)

Anyways. Love your works specially your remus series, a man with a plan 🥹 it’s so cute and very well written.

Mwah <3

Hey lovely!! Thanks so much for requesting - this was fun!! I love head canons. Hopefully this scratches that itch of yours

The formatting got messed up when I moved this from a word doc so my apologies - let me know if it's too difficult to follow: 💫 = head canon, -> subcategory, and anything indented is a sub-subcategory)

Dating Regulus Black Headcanons:

No voldemort AU, okay guys? I don’t fuck with that man. 

💫Falling in love with the witty (sometimes snide), smart, and quiet Slytherin was as easy as breathing – actively loving this man was NOT easy in the slightest

💫It took you months of talking, ‘accidentally’ being in the same room as him, sitting beside him in potions or the library and forcing him to talk to you before he finally went “what are you doing?”

-> “I like you” you responded

-> “Why?” he asked incredulously. Which, fair enough; you suppose he didn’t make much effort to talk back to you, or reach out to you, or participate in your conversations, but that’s not what you liked about him anyway

You liked his stoicism, it brought a sense of calm to you You liked how he didn’t always feel the need to fill the silence You liked how clever he was, and how he (even if he pretended you were exasperating) helped you with your studies when you got stuck  You liked his snide comments he made about people under his breath, and how he got surprised when you laughed at them – not really realizing he said them aloud to you to begin with  You liked his loyalty and sense of duty to the people who were important to him

-> “I just do” you settled for with a shrug of your shoulders

-> That answer didn’t exactly satisfy Regulus, but he accepted it nonetheless 

💫 He was a little bit more of a willing participant in your relationship after that 

💫 You’d come out of classrooms to find him waiting for you so he could walk you to your next class or to the Great Hall together for lunch 

💫 He’d always take a helping of your favourite food at breakfast/lunch/dinner just in case you wanted an extra serving, which he’d happily let you pick off of his plate

💫 He found out his brother was becoming an animagus during 4th year (though he didn’t know the reason) and took the attitude of “anything my brother can do, I can too.” And set out to become and animagus as well.

-> You wouldn’t let him do it alone, however

-> You both successfully became animagi and told no one.

💫 You guys never really discussed what the spending-time-with-each-other meant, Regulus had always been a little more than flighty in the past, and you didn’t want to scare him away.

💫 One evening, you were in an empty classroom trying to finish up a project where you could take up as much space as possible without bothering anyone when Regulus came bursting through the door

-> You don’t know how he even knew that you were here or how to find you, but he was clearly looking for you when his face crumpled when he found you

-> “Y/N” he whimpered

-> Without thinking, you threw your arms open, and he fell into your embrace

-> You sat in that classroom, holding Regulus as he sobbed into your chest for merlin knows how long, neither of you saying a word

-> He finally seemed to settle and pulled back from your embrace, though he wouldn’t make direct eye contact with you

-> “He left.”  He said simply

-> “Who?”

-> “Sirius, he ran away this summer, never came back. I thought – ugh – I thought when I saw him at school, I could convince him to come back home, come back to…me…”

-> You let the silence permeate in the air as he gathered his thoughts

-> “He’s not coming back, he’s…he left me. There. With them.”

-> You weren’t sure what to say – you didn’t want to disparage his family, Sirius least of all, knowing how much Regulus admired his older brother whether he admitted that out loud or not, and you knew (at least what Regulus had been willing to share with you) what the Black’s had put those boys through. 

-> You wanted to promise him he wasn’t alone – that he would always have Sirius, always have you – but it felt too much like a declaration, and you were too scared to do that when he was so fragile 

You knew he’d likely not believe you anyway – thinking you only said it to him because he was desperate to hear it

-> You settled with a simple “I’m sorry, Reggie.” And another hug

💫 Over the Christmas holidays, a black cat with grey eyes showed up at your family home

-> You called out to him, and he seemed to faint; almost as if he knew it was safe now that he’d seen you 

-> through the dark fur you could see some blood. You knew that what you couldn’t see underneath it would be far worse. You apologized to Regulus’ unconscious being before grabbing his animagus form and heading to the fireplace in your home, throwing a handful of floo powder into the hearth and calling for Potter Manor.

-> You were greeted by a well-dressed house elf

“I’m sorry to drop in unannounced. It’s an emergency. Is Sirius here?” The house elf snapped her fingers and a few moments later reappeared with a sleep rumpled Sirius “Y/N? What are you doing here?” “It’s regulus.” Sirius seemed to wake up rather quickly at that. “Is he okay?” You gently placed the cat onto the ground and cast a quick finite over his form, causing the animal to stretch back into Regulus. Sure enough, he was bleeding and bruised, though thankfully, most of his wounds seemed superficial. But he was clearly gaunt – like he hadn’t been eating or sleeping, and he was passed out from sheer exhaustion.

💫 Regulus stayed with the Potter’s ever since. He wouldn’t speak to you for some time after that however, feeling slightly betrayed that you brought him to Sirius

-> “I came to you, Y/N. If I’d wanted Sirius’ help, I would have asked for it!”

-> “Like hell you would have! You’ve never once accepted a lick of respite from anyone in your life. Martyrdom doesn’t suit you, Regulus - grow up.”

-> “It was my choice to make!”

-> “You were unconscious! For all I knew, you could have been dying. I had to make that choice for the both of us!”

-> “Perhaps I made a mistake then.”

The ‘trusting you’ went unsaid, but you both heard it. It crushed you.

-> “Fuck you, Regulus. I’m done.”

💫 It was awkward back at school; you hadn’t realised that much of your daily rituals were accompanied by him 

-> You stopped sitting at the spot he saved for you in the Great Hall – and eventually, you stopped eating in the Great Hall altogether, opting to visit the kitchens to eat instead.

-> He stopped waiting for you outside of classes, and he no longer carried your books around the castle. 

-> He didn’t help you with your homework

-> You didn’t cheer him on in his Quidditch games 

💫 Sirius approached you one day in the library

-> “Hiding from my brother in the library? Not a very good spot, love.”

-> “What do you want, Black?”

-> “Ouch, last names. What’d I ever do to you.”

-> You took a steadying breath – you wanted to lash out at him, but he was right, he wasn’t the one who hurt you

-> “What do you want?” you tried again

-> “We’re mean…the Black’s. We don’t…treat people very well. I don’t mean to make excuses; there is no excuse. But we weren’t treated very well ourselves. It takes a lot of unlearning.”

->You stared into his eerily similar grey eyes. “Is that all?”

-> “Hurt people, hurt people. And it’s usually the people we love the most, because they’re there. It’s not right, but I just thought you should know.” He offered you a sad smile and a squeeze of your shoulder before he left.

->You understood what he was saying, but it didn’t make you feel any better

💫 One of your housemates approached you with a package the next day. “You weren’t at breakfast, and the owl seemed very upset she couldn’t deliver this, so I promised her I’d bring this to you.”

-> It was a small square shaped package – pure white paper with a black bow on it 

-> Inside was a small charm bracelet – silver – with one charm on it. A purple hyacinth. Constancy, regret, sincerity. 

-> You shoved the bracelet in its box and into your bag and carried on with the rest of your day.

💫 “Y/N?” You heard him call quietly as he rapped twice on the door to the empty classroom you were holed up in 

-> You turned to look at him with a glare you’re sure could have rivalled one of his

-> “I was hoping we could talk.” He continued as he made his way inside.

-> “Why? You think a gift makes everything okay again?”

-> Regulus grimaced as he sat across from you. “I’m not great at apologies.”

-> You scoffed. “Yeah, seeing as you haven’t actually made one…” You sat in an awkward sort of stare off before you shook your head and moved to pack your things

-> “Y/N, wait please. I-” he reached across the table and gently grabbed your wrist. You could see a small portion of a silver chain (matching the charm bracelet you had in your bag) on his wrist. “I’m sorry…I, I was wrong.”

-> You stopped your packing and watched him as he searched for the right words 

-> “You saved my life that night. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. I shouldn’t have blamed you for anything – I should have just thanked you. Better yet, I should have told you how much I love you.”

-> You felt your breath catch in your throat. “love me?” you whispered

-> Regulus nodded and pulled out two charms from his pocket: a yellow lily (gratitude) and a rose…that one was pretty self explanatory.

-> You pulled out the box from your bag and allowed Regulus to attach the charms and clasp it on your wrist.

-> “I don’t think I’m going to ever be as good at loving you as you deserve, and I know I’m not easy to love, but I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance to try.”

-> You saw nothing but earnestness and determination in his eyes

-> “I forgive you.”

💫 Regulus is a HUGE gift giver – really the only way he ever saw ‘love’ (or the Black’s messed up version of it) was through giving/receiving gifts. So that’s the best way he was able to express his love for you 

💫 You quickly learned that his love language (the way he received it) was through words of affirmation. He didn’t have anyone tell him he was loved, cherished, and appreciated growing up – you flustered him every time you complimented him. You delighted in the raging blush he’d get, especially if you whispered something in front of his friends. 

-> You also gifted him his own charms for his bracelet that matched yours

💫 On nights you couldn’t sleep, you’d meet him in the Astronomy tower where he’d teach you the constellations and the mythology behind them.

💫 Black’s are very territorial, but I don’t see Regulus being super loud about it. Like he wouldn’t make loud proclamations of ‘ownership’ or love, but he’d always be there

-> Think, staring hard at the other person flirting with you in the Great Hall

-> Taking a lock of your hair and moving it behind your ear or just twirling it between his fingers if someone looks at you too long 

💫 This man is SO unapproachable to everyone 

-> Stony faced ALWAYS – major RBF

-> Scowls at people who stand too closely to him, talk too loudly, say something dumb 

-> Did not let anyone touch him. Ever. Barty gets too close at breakfast = Barty ends up ass over tea kettle on the stone floor. Sirius throws an arm over his shoulder = Sirius getting an elbow to the gut

💫 So, you could imagine everyone’s surprise that when you come up from behind him where he’s sitting, lazily throw your arms over his shoulders and run your fingers through his hair, the man is practically purring. The softest smiles and eyes no one ever thought Regulus Black was capable of when he looked at you

-> “It’s like a different person. This isn’t the real Regulus, just some freaky clone.” Sirius once said.

💫 You blew his mind introducing him to muggle movies 

-> He’s a crier at all sad parts – even animated movies

💫 And he kept his promise – you gave him the chance to try, and he spent the rest of his life trying to love you the way you deserved to be

[icomeandg0]

"More than One"

Linked universe x Y/n (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Confusing.

"She's my Y/n!"

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

Being dumped in another place wasn't on the chains to do list.

This definitely got a rise out of the boys, nonstop grumbling coming from Legend and Wind while the others were wearing their poker face to disguise their frustration on this unfortunate situation they had found themselves in.

"Does anyone at least know this landscape?” Sky asked with a slight hopeful tone in his tired voice only to be answered with shrugs of the shoulders and grumbles.

They ventured through the dense forest, nothing but trees...trees and-Oh! More trees.

“Well this sucks, I swear that shadow is toying with us now. We weren’t even in the other place for a week!” Legend was the first to speak about his frustrations earning a few nods of agreement from a few others but Time shuts it down.

“Even so, there must be a reason why we were sent here so early. So instead of complaining we will figure it out and rest.”

None of the boys would even object to Times commands, they would only lash out internally. “Well, we’re low on food and we’re in a forest..Perfect time to stock up, don't you think?" Wild suggested, Time was against stopping now but seeing as it was getting late and that the boys would be satisfied and no longer needed to complain he had no choice to.

"Fine, we'll stop here for tonight. We leave first thing in the morning"

✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

Wild adjusted his bow as Twilight stands behind him, "I'll come with, don't know where you'll end up." Wild only rolls his eyes playfully, "I bet you'd sniff me out if I got lost."

The two were walking deeper into the woods but not deep enough where they didn't know where they were. Soon in a clearing Wild found some deer, Wild signals for Twilight to stay put and to keep quiet as Wild crouches towards the herd.

he aligned the arrow in the middle of the bow, pulling the string back he focuses on the deer...

'Gotcha!-'

Wild's Sheikah slate began to beep out loud, startling the herd and making them all flee so in a hurry Wild shots but misses, Wild huffs and grabbed his slate from his hip and looks at it.

The slate was already on the map and it had a glowing spot, 'Detecting another Sheikah slate user'

Wild was confused, no way someone in this era had a Sheikah slate, must be someone from his era...Wouldn't be Zelda, she was getting her Sheikah slate upgraded, Could it be...?

Wild's eyes widened and he was about to run towards where that glowing spot was but Twilights hand rested on his shoulder, Wild hugged the slate to his chest so Twilight wouldn't see. "Didn't catch anything huh?" Oh that's right...

"Nah, stepped on a stick and made them run away" Wild lied through his teeth, Twilight didn't seem to catch on, "That's fine, we'll try to find something else. C'mon" Wild gulps and nods, He really wanted to go searching but he couldn't do it now, Later.

"Finally! Took you long enough to come back! I'm starving" Wind hops up to his feet when he sees the deer draped around Twilight's shoulders, "Sorry, I'll get on with cooking" Wild smiles and pulls out his pot.

Once everyone was satisfied with their dinner they helped to clean up but when Four went to grab the pot he noticed leftovers from dinner, "Hey Wild, what should I do with this?" he asked, raising his brow curiosity. "Oh just leave it, I'll keep it." "Leftover's huh? You don't normally leave leftovers." Twilight points out. "Yeah...Got a bit carried away with cooking, no harm in more food, right?" Twilight nods.

"So who's on watch tonight?" Legend grumbled at the thought of it being him- "I'll do it" Wild offers, no one seems to object since neither of them wanted to do it.

"I'll be on second" Twilight nods.

✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

It didn't take too long for everyone to knock out, Wild waits a little bit before grabbing his slate to see the glowing spot again. Wild needs to go and find them, but he knows he'd be in trouble when he's back nor will he forgive himself if he leaves and something attacks while he's gone.

But he needs to reach them...Needs to reach his-

He leaves the camp with light footsteps to not wake anyone...but unknowingly someone was awake that whole time.

Once Wild knows he's at a safe distance he begins to pick up his speed and run quickly towards the glowing spot on his map, he’s so close-

But once he approaches he sees a dragon, resting on its side, it’s taking deep huffs as if it’s resting.

Wild looks terrified, he looks at his slate and then back at the dragon…His glowing spot is where the dragon is.

No way, was he late? Did the dragon…Did the dragon kill Y/n? Was he late again?

While he was deep in thought he didn’t realise the dragons piercing E/C orbs staring at him, not until it let out a low growl.

Wild was in a hurry and forgot to grab weapons, something he now regrets. Though the dragon had arrows and various other weapons on its back which explained why it was on its side…It wasn’t attacking since it was probably tired but Wild wouldn’t take any chances so he kept his guard up.

Wild takes another look at the slate and throws the slate in frustration, He failed again, to protect someone he had loved.

The dragon wasn’t phased, however, the dragon was thinking about how dramatic that was until…The dragon noticed the eye on the slate and it looked familiar.

The Dragon growls once more to gain Wilds attention, once Wild looked the beast lifted up its wing revealing…

Y/n, His Y/n. You were safe…sorta.

Blood covered the side of your torso, it was dried up but you probably lost so much you were unconscious now. Your slate was loosely in your hand, Wild wasted no time running towards you, grabbing you and checking your pulse and breathing.

Once he saw that you were still alive he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Gotta bring you back…” Wilds ears twitched when he heard the bushes rustle…

“Damnit, not here.” Wild muttered but once he saw it was wolfie he huffed.

“Of course, you sniffed me out didn’t you?” Wild sighs when Wolfie walked over to him, sniffing the girl in Wilds arms.

“Look, I’ll explain later. I gotta take her back to the others, hopefully Hyrule can heal her…” Wild says as he gets up and runs off…

Wolfie turns to the dragon who was resting once again, letting out a weak huff…Wolfie walked over and gives the Dragon a little nudge with his snout earning a soft grumble from the dragon.

Once Wild made it back to camp he rushes into Hyrules tent to wake him up, “Hyrule! Hyrule! Ugh, Link!” Wild shakes Hyrule making him shoot open his eyes in a hurry, he looks up at him and rubs his eyes.

“W-what? Monster?” Hyrule reaches for his sword but Wild shakes his head, “No…but can you heal her? Please.” Wild pleaded as he lowered you down gently on the ground, Hyrules eyes widened but he looks determined.

“Explain after”

“Roger that.”

To be continued…

✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

My first ever post, hopefully it was…decent?

[thewidowsledger]

Secrets Behind Our Dreams

Chapter 14: Last Piece | 4.5k

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Summary: You are a club dancer; a stripper. Natasha is a respected notorious mob boss. What would happen if your paths happened to cross one night? The only thing you knew about each other was your dreams, and neither of you knew what the other was.

Pairing: Mob Boss Natasha Romanoff x Stripper Female Reader

Warnings: 18+, bad writing, dark themes, arson, torture (kinda waterbloating) Natasha almost killing Yelena with a piece of cloth and water, thoughts of suicide, implied sexual abuse, Natasha being a child of r4p3 (I’m really sorry)

Author's Note: BEWARE OF THE WARNINGS‼️I feel like I wasn't able to write everything in this chapter because I wrote this in a rush and since I will be gone for another week or 2 or worst a month, I decided to post this now. I also have received all the requests and tiger cub 🐅 I will surely write the one you requested :3 it will be the first fic I will post as soon as I get back.

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

Yelena found herself lying in her safehouse, the familiar surroundings a small comfort amidst the pain coursing through her body. When she tried to move her left wrist was restrained, handcuffed to the bed. Despite the situation, she remained calm, she's trained for this—these things are like simple activities to her. She tried to reach out for the side table, to look for something she can use to free herself but the table was gone.

“Fuck, that was the first thing I bought with my own money.”

A sound of the chair legs scraping against the floor echoed in the silence while the blonde struggled in her own bed, when she shot her head forward she saw a figure loom over.

“Natasha…” she called out in a warning. Even if she hasn't seen who it is, she knew it was her sister.

Of course she knew she’ll come after her.

“Hope you don't mind me paying a visit,” Natasha said as she sat down on the chair she had dragged. The harsh sound of the metal against the ground only added to the tension in the room. The blonde always made a visit to her place without her knowing it so why wouldn't she do the same?

“I’m sorry.”

“Where is she?”

“Natasha, please…”

“Don't beg, yet.”

Yelena winced slightly as she shifted her body, but she managed to sit upright, her back resting against the wall. The coldness of the stone wall sent a chill down her spine, but it provided the support she needed. The handcuff kept her left wrist in place on the bed, limiting her movement.

“Where's the puppy?” Yelena asked as she tried to shift the situation.

“Somewhere safe,” Natasha replied. “But the mom?” She paused, her gaze boring into Yelena's, “That's what I'm asking you.” She now stood and walked over her sister who is now scooting on the corner of her bed.

“Where is Y/N?” she asked again with a little bit of force now.

“I don't know, Natasha,” Yelena said truthfully but her sister did not seem to be satisfied with that answer. Natasha felt like her own sister was lying to her, so she left in a minute and when she got back, she was dragging a trash bag behind her.

“Woah, woah, Natasha don't!” Yelena's eyes widened as she saw her own collection of vests inside the trash bag, and her heart almost stopped when Natasha carelessly flung a lighter onto the pile in a blink.

The blonde watched in horror as the items burst into flames, the fire licking and consuming her precious collection of vests.

“I am telling you the truth!” Yelena shouted, her chest rose and fell quickly as she breathed heavily, the smell of burning fabric filled the room, the acrid aroma of the vests being consumed by flames filling her nostrils. Yelena watched as her sister walked out of the room again. A few moments later, she could hear the sound of water moving through pipes as her sister returned with a hose in hand. She breathed thinking her sister would use it for the burning clothes she just lit, but then her sister gripped her right hand and cuffed it to the side of the bed, forcing her to lie back.

“Natasha…” She tugged on the handcuffs, the metal biting on both of her wrists as she struggled to break free, but to no avail.

The redhead grabbed a towel from nearby and placed it over her sister's face, covering her completely. The fabric was thick and stifling, making it nearly impossible for Yelena to breathe.

“What the fuck! Natasha!” She shouted but the fabric made her words muffled.

Natasha then took the head of the hose and aimed it over the towel-covered face of her sister, the water already running at maximum pressure. The force of the stream pushed the towel further into Yelena's mouth and nose, the water pouring down her throat and into her lungs. Her body convulsed as she gagged and sputtered, her legs thrashing beneath her.

She desperately tried to inhale through the soaked towel. Each breath was a fight, water pouring into her mouth and nostrils, choking and burning her. Her lungs screamed for air, but all she could draw in was more water.

Yelena's face scrunched up in agony beneath the towel and a slideshow of memories flickered through her mind—the moments she shared with you, short, yet changed the trajectory of her life.

She felt guilty about how she treated you, the names she called you. She still hated you, though, she hated how your purity and warmth reminded her of her own hardened ways. She also hated how good your cookies are.

But what she hated most was that she couldn't escape the fact that you had inadvertently made her realize the truth–that deep down, her sister, Natasha who was torturing her right now, loved her more than she cared to admit

“You know, your sister loves you.”

Just as suddenly as it began, the water stopped. She managed to remove the soaked towel from her face, coughing and sputtering as she tried to clear the water from her throat. Her vision was blurry, and her body ached from the ordeal, but her mind remained focused on one thing: finding you.

The hose continued to run, soaking the pile of her vests and extinguishing the last remnants of the fire.

“Red R-room,” Yelena gasped out.

Natasha stopped her movements when she heard her sister say the two words she doesn't want to hear anymore.

“They took her, Nat. It's them.”

“And you let them,” she said coldly, “You helped them!” She now turned and pointed a finger on her sister, she then fished out the burner phone Yelena had and threw it to her making the blonde wince when it hit her stomach.

“I can handle the truth of the Red Room resurfacing after all these years, after I burnt them down,” Natasha tried to keep her tears at bay, not wanting Yelena to see her vulnerable at this point, “But you?” Her gaze locked onto her sister, she clenched her jaw and finally let the tears fall from her eyes, “My own sister? Betraying me?”

“How could you do this to me?!”

Natasha exhaled, wiping her tears as she tried to hold her anger that she thought was finally gone after she almost killed her sister with a piece of towel.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shut up.”

“Sestra, please.”

“Shut up!”

“I was supposed to bring her back to you!” Yelena didn't back down, she wanted her sister to know about it, about you—about how you changed her. Maybe the things Natasha saw in you that she now saw too.

“I w-was changing my mind...” The weight of her actions, of what she did to you is now eating her alive.

“Too late.”

“Natasha! You're gonna need me!” Yelena called out urgently, thrashing her cuffed hands when she saw her sister moving to walk away—this time she thinks it's for good. “I'm going to help you! I'll find Y/N!”

Yelena's pleading continued, desperate to convince her sister to give her a chance. But Natasha didn't stop, didn't turn back. With a final glance, she vanished from sight, leaving Yelena drowning in guilt and shame of her betrayal.

“I’m sorry.”

⧗

You slowly wake-up, blinking your eyes a few times as you look at the ceiling above you. Your body is numb and you can hear a faint ringing in your ears as your heart starts to race. You shut your eyes and counted up to 3 and you managed to slowly sit upright but your body trembled. You look desperately around the room and notice heavy curtains. You're about to move towards it when you hear a voice.

“That will get you nowhere.”

You freeze abruptly, you can hear the loud thud of your heart as you scan the unfamiliar room for the source of the voice. And that's when you see a woman, sitting on her own bed across the room.

“W-who ar—”

“Xialing, Xu Xialing,” she cut you off as if she was already expecting you to ask her that.

“Xialing? A-as in the pri—”

“The Princess of Ta Lo,” despite you being disoriented right now, you noticed how her tone dropped. You’ve seen her on TV, when the crown was passed down to her mother. You always dreamed of being like her and now she's in the same room as you.

The only difference is that she is a princess and you're just a stripper.

Dreams be damned but you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you desperately ask again, this time you whispered it to yourself but it didn't go unheard by the princess, “Where am I?”

She observed you, her expression remained calm as she responded with a question of her own, “What was the last thing you remember?”

And that's when it hits you, the last thing you remember was the sight of Yelena, lying motionless on the street while the small puppy she bought you licked her face.

“You brought us in so much trouble already, you’re going to pay for it.”

Tears stream down your cheeks as the memory floods your mind. You then rushed towards her and stood in front of her bed, “We’re in danger, we need to get out of here,” you informed her as you paced around, finally gaining your senses back, “I-I was kidnapped a-and…and…”

As if she heard nothing, she simply tightened the robe around her body and walked in front of you to her vanity table. She sat there, casually searching on the drawers.

You furrow your brows in disbelief as you watch her start combing her hair, “What are you doing?” You asked and you weren't able to contain your frustration as your voice came out louder than you intended—even if you knew that you were talking to a royalty.

As you watch her continue to brush her hair, a sudden realization hits you. You had assumed the worst for yourself, but what about her? Has she been here for a long time now? Was she also taken captive? How can she be so calm?

You looked at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair, your voice cracking as you ask, “W-were you taken too?”

She huffed, “We all are,” she then fixed her robe, and then there, you saw a glimpse of a scar on her shoulder similar to yours, “Even the only heir to the throne cannot be shielded away from danger.” She met your gaze on the mirror before she placed the comb back to its place.

“No one can escape the Red Room.”

“W-what are you saying,” you asked in a shaky voice, “w-what Red Room?”

“What's your story?” She asked, answering your question with a question once again. “Girls here have different stories,” you watched her in the mirror as she put some moisturizer on her face, “there's this spoiled daughter of a corrupt mayor in Europe, her room is across ours. She's one of the favorites, not the one to be messed with. Then there's the wife of the president of Latveria…” She trailed off as she noted every woman that was taken by god who knows what room.

“There's also this one student of Kamar-Taj, only few can enroll in that prestigious school. Very strict and they don't let the students out, they can only have visitors once in 2 months,” she shook her head sideways and chuckled lightly to herself, “but it's the Red Room, so…they still got her.”

She twisted the cap back onto her moisturizer bottle and then turned to face you as she sat on the edge of her vanity table, her arms crossing and eyeing you with anticipation.

“So what about you? What's your story?”

These were women from powerful backgrounds, high-class families, sent to prestigious schools—probably filthy rich. They’re literally elites, royalties, lived in mansions and had influential families, parents, husbands, partners, connections. And you? Hell, you have no one. You survived on scraps and you swallow filthy comments for a living, how can't you? You're just a lowly stripper who accidentally got saved by a mob by sheer luck.

So you remained silent, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat together with the shame you feel right now. The princess noticed it, though, but she didn't pry further.

“What's your name?”

“Y/N...”

She then moved closer to her bed and dipped herself on the soft sheets. She spoke again, “You were the last piece, Y/N,” she said and that made you furrow your brows more, this time not to hold your tears back but in confusion as you struggled to process what she just said.

Last piece?

“They had a hard time finding you, so whoever was protecting you must be powerful.”

“Not powerful enough, though,” she added that made you hitch your breath as you saw flashes of Natasha’s image before your eyes.

“But that makes us all the same, no matter how powerful we are, they still found us.” She then tucked herself in, signaling the end of the conversation.

You fixated on the princess beneath her duvet, your mind filled with horror with everything she just told you, what bothers you more is as if she had grown accustomed to this—comfortable even.

How will you process all that? All the suppressed tears you had been holding back now streamed down your cheeks. You swiftly brought your hands to your mouth, desperately trying to muffle the sobs that threatened to erupt.

“Crying will get you nowhere, you should rest,” she advised for the last time. “In a couple of days, you’ll see real powerful people. And we’ll be paraded while they dish out millions on us like it’s a chump change.”

⧗

The Princess told you everything you need about the Red Room, it's a sinister organization. They'll take who they're ordered to take, no questions asked. They will do anything if the price is right, regardless of who asks. Each woman in this place as you were all specifically targeted and requested. It's the Red Room's specialty—fulfilling those who request abductions of women.

And what bothers you now is who would pay just to take you?

Xialing applied her lipstick, fixing herself in front of her own vanity mirror as you sat on your bed, staring at nothing.

“We're having breakfast, be aware that there will be armed guards stationed outside,” she informed you sternly. “Stay calm, refrain from any impulsive actions. Speak only when spoken to, and avoid attracting attention. And above all,” she continued, her voice firm, “Do not attempt anything stupid. Keep yourself out of trouble, don't get in anyone’s way.”

You found yourself lost in thought, staring blankly at the floor in front of you. Your eyes had become unblinking as you became lost in your own thoughts. You can feel your chest tightening as a crushing sense of hopelessness begins to take hold. You felt trapped, helpless, and your despair grew with each passing moment.

The sound of the door opening echoed through the room and two men entered, their big weapons clinging in their body. The princess stood up from her seat, her gaze fixated on them. You, however, remained seated, your eyes vacant as tears streamed down your face. It was as if you were detached from reality, no longer responding to the world around you.

The princess shot a frustrated glance back in your direction, her irritation evident. She immediately ran to your bed and shook you.

“Why do you always cry?! If you want to survive,” she hissed, “you have to pull yourself together because crying won’t help you here!”

You struggled to stand, your body heavy with despair, and the princess nearly had to drag you to your feet. As you stood, you wiped the tears from your face.

“She's fine.” The princess told the guards who seemed being impatient with the two of you.

She guided you as you walked passed them. Your eyes take in every detail of your surroundings as you both went outside the room. You silently counted the cameras that were positioned in each corner of the hall, your eyes noting the locations of each one.

Next, you focused on the guards, mentally tallying their movements and positions within their area.

As you entered the dining area, there was a long table with girls seated in chairs. Their expressions were vacant as you, as if they were under mysterious control. A guard stepped forward, he dragged you away from the princess and firmly directed you towards your assigned seat. You reminded yourself not to fight even if your body wants to.

A woman at the head of the table smirked as she looked directly at you.

“Ah, perfect, all the chairs are filled. The last piece is here.”

You remained silent, eyes fixated on the table in front of you but that didn't stop you from feeling all the attention pointing towards you. The woman then clapped, and almost on cue, guards wheeled in carts laden with food and placed them on the table. The aroma filled the air, and the sight of delicious dishes lined the table. However, you remained silent and unresponsive, still unable to bring yourself to move even a single finger.

As you sat silently, your eyes scanned the table in front of you, and something immediately caught your attention–the sight of plastic utensils getting placed at the table. Confusion filled your mind as you wondered why they would use such materials for a meal in this luxurious setting.

You’re mind now fell onto the darker part of your brain by wanting to place the fork in your neck or maybe at your chest and just end it there. And there, you realized the reason why they use plastic as utensils.

The other women at the table began to eat, but you paid them no attention. You sat silently, ignoring the food on your plate. The central woman then tilted her head in your direction, her voice cold and commanding.

“Stripper,” she called that made you pull out from your deep thought, your throat tightened but you remained fixed on the food on your plate, not daring to look at her direction or to anyone. It sounded degrading coming from her and it made you want to rip your soul apart from your body as you remember that all women in here were literally nothing like you.

You sure do really need to know your place here.

“Eat. Or I will force you to eat, and trust me, it will hurt.”

You swallowed, your throat felt dry, and you slightly glanced at the princess seated across from you. Her eyes met your gaze, and she mouthed the words “please, eat” silently to you. The look in her eyes was pleading, her concern for you visible in her expression.

You took a shaky breath and picked up the plastic fork, your fingers trembling slightly as you began to eat. The food tasted bland and unappetizing, but you forced yourself to swallow each morsel that passed your lips.

The woman at the center of the table observed you silently, her gaze fixed upon you as you ate, clearly evaluating your compliance.

She then clapped her hands once more, and with remarkable efficiency. The guards immediately began to remove the food from the table, regardless of whether you had finished it or not. The sight of each plate being taken away so quickly was slightly unnerving.

You managed to take a total of four bites before the guards removed each plate and utensils from the table. Then, the woman at the center of the table gestured to a girl at the table, “You, over there–you have a visitor. Get ready.”

The girl immediately started to cry and plead, “No, no, no, please!” But the guard advanced toward her, undeterred by her frantic pleas.

You felt a sense of helplessness wash over you as you desperately wanted to intervene, but an invisible force seemed to hold you back—as if you were tied to your chair. You looked at Xialing who quietly shook her head, signaling you not to take any rash actions that will for sure put you to a death row situation.

Unable to bear the sight and sounds of the girl’s cries, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly, desperately trying to block them out. Your heart pounded heavily, and your fingernails dug into the skin of your palms as a means to distract yourself from the heartbreaking situation unfolding before you.

Once the girl had been led away, the woman at the center of the table addressed the remaining girls, “See you all at lunch.”

One guard approached each girl, gently taking hold of your arm as they guided each of you back to your rooms. As the guards led you back to yours, you felt frustrated, hating how you were being handled like a prisoner. But you are, though, you also remembered the princess’s earlier warning and tried your best to control yourself, knowing that any resistance or disobedience could put you in more danger.

You sat on your bed, your gaze vacant as you stared at the floor once again. The sound of the door opening echoed through the room, and without even turning your head, you knew that it was the princess entering.

“That was Agatha, she's the head here.” The princess spoke as if she knew all the questions you had in mind.

Your voice was cold and devoid of emotion as you asked, “What will happen to the girl?”

The princess stayed silent, her attention shifting to the vanity mirror as she began to fix her appearance. She did not offer any response to your question, her focus solely on her reflection.

You stood up abruptly, your voice filled with irritation and anger as you faced her.

“Why aren't you answering my question now, huh?” you laughed humorlessly, “You speak to me as if you know everything in my mind, but now you can't answer my question?”

“What is going to happen to that girl?” you repeated the question shakingly, angrily emphasizing each word.

“I am not answering because the answer to your question is already in your mind too.”

“No…” you shook your head, you wanted to throw up everything you ate on that goddamn table.

“She might probably meet the one who requested her from the Red Room but they won't have her not until the night.”

“Stop,” you whispered.

But the princess didn't bother, she continued, “And whoever that person can do whatever they want on her, like fuck her or...”

“Stop!”

“You want to know the truth, don't you? And now you cannot accept it?!”

The princess spun around, her face now visible to you.

“That is her truth! Because the same thing happened to me!” Her eyes were filled with anger and pain. She stood mere inches away from you, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her revelation.

You could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, their warmth cascading down your cheeks. It was not for your own pain but for the princess' and the girl. The realization of what they had been through, the suffering they endured, and the horrors of what is happening or what might happen to the girl right now broke you, and the tears rolled down shamelessly.

Xialing clenched her jaw, her voice sharp and harsh.

“I don't need your tears or your sympathy,” she said firmly, her jaw clenching as she turned her back at you. Now, she is the one who's trying to hold her own tears back, not for herself—but for you.

“Better save your tears for yourself because the same thing will happen to you in no time.”

⧗

Bucky pushed Yelena forcefully forward, his grip on her arm firm and unwavering. Yelena stumbled, regaining her balance as she came to a halt in front of Natasha's table.

“I saw this one climbing in,” Bucky said, his voice monotone. “I thought I'd bring her to you.”

Natasha looked up, her gaze shifting towards her sister who stood before her, panting and disheveled.

“Natasha…” she breathed but she was interrupted when Maria pushed the door open and entered the room, her eyes widening as she took in the blonde who looked so distressed in front of her.

“I thought we were having an emergency meeting,” she chuckled in surprise, “I didn't know we were having a torture party. Should I get your toys, Natalia?”

“You made the wrong move coming here, little one,” Bucky growled. “Did you really think you could still sneak in unnoticed this time?”

“Enough of that,” Natasha interjected, her authoritative tone silencing Bucky and Maria instantly.

Yelena seized the opportunity to speak, “I know you're looking for Y/N and I...I can help you.”

“Dreykov is not stupid enough to trust you with everything. They just used you and you, in your desperate quest to prove your worth, did whatever Papa wanted you to. Even if it's you taking away the one I love! ”

Yelena visibly flinched at her sister's words. Her expression shifted from determination to disbelief and for a brief moment, a flicker of guilt once again passed through her eyes with Natasha's revelation.

Her sister loves you and she knowingly became a part of those chains that led you away from her.

Her determination flared up even more.

“But I am not dumber, Natasha,” the blonde asserted. “I tracked them. I know where they are. We both know that I know the Red Room better than you. I knew they were still out there when you thought you succeeded in burning them, but you don't. You know mama is a product of the—”

She was cut off as Natasha hurled the glass of whiskey in her direction making the blonde flinch.

“Mama is not a product of the Red Room!” she shouted, her words filled with fierce anger. “She was a victim! She didn't choose that life, it was forced upon her. Don't you dare label her in that way!”

“YA byl produktom…” (I was the product) she now let out a humorless chuckle as she stared directly onto her sister's eyes, the irony of her own words bitter in her mouth. “You still don't get it, sestra, do you?”

Yelena froze, her breaths becoming shallow as Natasha's words settled within her. Her mind raced, refusing to accept the horrifying truth that was beginning to take shape.

She shook her head, an unconscious act of denial. “No,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath, “They love each other from the beginning! Papa loved Mama the first ti—”

“If they did…” Natasha didn't let her sister finish, not wanting to hear the stupid fairytale lie of a love story Alexei used to tell them as a kid.

“Why did Mama look at me, as if I reminded her of her worst nightmare?” The horrified look of her mother on her flashed in Natasha's mind, she winced as she remember how many countless times she called out for her Mama, but her cries went unanswered.

The three stood in silence, their heads were kept down in unease as Natasha revealed and recounted her pain.

“You heard the different side of the love story, Yeye. Why don't you flip the other side, so you'll see the rest of it?” Natasha's smirk was tinged with a bitter edge as she echoed the nickname Alexei used to call the blonde.

“He loved her the first time he laid eyes on her?” She paused in disbelief, her expression hardening as she avoided addressing Alexei as her Papa. “It was nothing more than an illusion - a sick, twisted form of possession. He was a coward, so he just asked his friend to capture her. He paid them and forced himself on Mama.” She narrowed her eyes as she looked once again at her sister, “I thought you knew the Red Room well?”

“I do, I still do...I know their every movement but what they don't know is I am willing to betray them for you, Natalia.”

Secret Behind Our Dreams: Masterlist

[dyaz-stories]

found an island in your arms || Eun Hyuk x Reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings & tags: angst, eun hyuk deserves a hug and he gets one, eun hyuk is a little controlling towards the reader

previous one-shot

A/N: my entry for day two of @neohumanmonster's Turning a New Leaft event! Prompt: Change in Nature. While this is in relation with yesterday's entry, there is no need to have read it to understand this one, it just provides a little more context.

Eun Hyuk is more tense lately, more irritable. Everyone can feel it, though most people chalk it up to the dwindling rations and the growing fear that the army simply isn’t coming to save you. You can tell that Eun Yu doesn’t believe in that, though, and neither do you.

Eun Yu doesn’t seem to have an actual explanation for her brother’s out of character behavior. She pokes and probes and throws out cutting remarks to see what sticks, but she doesn’t seem all that worried either.

“He does that sometimes,” she answers you bluntly when you ask if she thinks Eun Hyuk is doing alright. “There’s probably something he wants to fix. I’m sure he’ll get there. He just needs a little push.”

That doesn’t satisfy you. You don’t like to sit idle while people are in pain, don’t like to sit idle at all, actually, even if someone is hammering that you’re doing it ‘for the greater good”. But the thing is, you and Eun Hyuk… don’t get along that well. You clashed a bunch in the beginning, before you were outvoted by the people who thought Eun Hyuk would bring them safety, at least. It was a short-term solution, what he was offering, you’d argued — to which he had replied that yours was a death sentence.

You still admired him. The decisions he had to make on a daily basis couldn’t be easy ones to make, nor were the sacrifices. Of course, you still often believed he chose wrong, but you had to admit that he had kept most of the group alive until now, and considering the circumstances, that was truly impressive.

You just wish that he would let you do more. Instead, he’s constantly getting in your way, particularly when it comes to helping the infected. ‘Your abilities could help the whole group’, he’d say. ‘We can’t afford to lose them because you trusted someone you shouldn’t have.’ It drove you insane, how easily he’d interfere, always with these pseudo rational arguments that you never really bought were genuine ones.

It felt as if they were just for show, and as such you never felt all that guilty for going against his orders.

You weren’t dumb. You wouldn’t put others in danger unless they were willing to risk themselves for something. But you also refused to let others get hurt through your own inaction. So if you had to sneak around to see Hyun-Su’s in order to treat his wounds and bring him food, then you’d do as you damn pleased, and neither Eun Hyuk nor anyone else had any say in that. It was your life, and it was your decision.

Still, you can’t say you’re thrilled when you find Eun Hyuk waiting for you when you exit Hyun-Su’s so-called room. He’s leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, and he gives you an annoyed look when you come out.

“What did I tell you?” he asks you coldly.

You grimace. The two of you are almost the same age, and you hate that patronizing tone he insists on taking with you.

“Hyun-Su needed help,” you say. “There is a limit to what even you can ask of me.”

He’s silent for a while. You notice him clenching his fists, and something unusually dark passes in his eyes. His jaw tenses, a vein bulges on his forehead. You think you’ve done it now, that you’re going to get an earful — even if you still don’t quite understand why. There’s simply no reason for him to care that much, and the lack of control is blatantly unlike him.

You’d run into him often, before this whole— thing— started. He was always quiet but sweet, would smile politely when you got in the elevator, maybe exchange niceties with you when you met in the lobby. He’d leave early and come home late, with the look of someone who hadn’t taken a breather all day, but it never appeared to have any effect on his temper.

That’s what’s throwing you off right now. How angry he seems to be.

After what feels like an eternity, he exhales, relaxes his hand.

“I guess you’re right,” he says, but his voice sounds too even now, like it’s forced. “I can’t force you to do anything. I just wish you’d consider that—” He cuts himself off the second his voice becomes strained again, looks away from you.

None of that is normal for him.

“Eun Hyuk,” you say, taking a step towards him. “Is there something wrong?”

He stares in your eyes for a second, and for that second, you think that maybe he’ll give you an honest answer.

“Everything is wrong,” he says in the end, and again, you know it’s nothing more than a half-truth. Then again, you can’t blame him for not telling you. “Can you even remember the last time thing went right for us?”

It’s not that he’s lying, it’s just that you know he’s not being genuine, and so you don’t bother continuing that line of discussion. It unnerves the other residents when you drop a conversation that is clearly going nowhere, makes them think you’re avoidant, but you think Eun Hyuk understands it. Close enough, anyway.

“You should still tell someone,” you tell him.

“I— What?”

“I get why you wouldn’t want to tell me,” you say with a shrug. “I still think you should tell your sister. Or Jae-Heon, I guess, if you’re more comfortable with that, but I get why it can’t be me.” You take a step towards him, put a hand on his shoulder. You do it slowly, as if you were trying not to spook a skittish cat. Eun Hyuk glances down at your hand, but makes no movement to get rid of it. “I’m here if you need me.”

He scoffs, looks away from you, pushes his glasses higher on his nose. But you don’t let go, and he doesn’t actually move away from you.

“I mean it,” you say softly. “If you want to talk, or if there’s any other way to help you. Just let me know.”

He closes his eyes. You wait for it to sink in, then take your hand off, hoping you haven’t pushed a boundary already. As you break contact with him, though, he grabs your wrist without warning, and pulls you into him. Your chest collides with him as he wraps both arms around and his chin comes rest on your shoulder.

You’re surprised by how strong his embrace is, how he clearly doesn’t want to let go.

“Eun Hyuk?” you squeak.

“Just— Just give me a second,” he says, voice so low you barely hear it. “Please. Just let me have that.”

You feel your heart almost breaking at the desperate plea. Slowly, you close your arms around him, start rubbing his back. You’re not sure what’s happening, not completely, but you know he’s warm against you, and you know you need that contact, too.

Seconds go by, until he takes a step back, clearing his throat. He refuses to meet your eyes, but you don’t miss that his cheekbones are dusted pink now.

“Sorry, I—” Then he lets out a long exhale, and appears to get himself back under control. “You offered.”

You’re not fooled in any way by that, but you still nod.

“And the offer still stands. If you need any help, you know where to find me.”

Another long exhale.

“You— Why— Why would you—”

“Because you need help,” you answer. “You’re the one who’s looking after everyone, and I want to make sure there’s someone looking after you, too.” Eun Yu does, sure, but Eun Yu’s a kid, and that’s a lot of responsibility to put on her shoulders.

“Thank you,” Eun Hyuk mumbles, still not looking at you. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Then he gives you a vague nod and leaves the hallway without once looking back.

Your eyes follow him, worried. You’re afraid he’s reaching his breaking point. This situation is revealing things about people, about yourself, too, even if you don’t like looking at it. Clearly, it’s changing you.

You can only hope that Eun Hyuk will withstand that change — and be by his side for as long as he needs you to.

hope you're enjoying this! tomorrow's entry will be for hyun-su ^-^ as always, reblogs and comments are strongly appreciated and keep me motivated and writing :)

more writing for sweet home

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: alhaitham x gn reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: alhaitham answers a seamingly meaningless question while cuddling with you

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 562

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: that this is the second time the reader is akin to a cat in an alhaitham fic is pure coincidence I swear. No beef vs dogs

"What animal would you be?"

Kaveh had asked this on a stray night, a couple drinks in, buzzed and free but not sobbing-drunk as he always is. He had meant it as an innocent question, a fun fact, and said that he would love to be a lion, coincidentally his Darshan's insignia, because they looked cool—well, he listed a lot more reasons, but that's what it boiled down to.

Alhaitham that same night said it was meaningless to answer. It's not like one would be able to achieve such a thing–morphing into an animal–anyway. Thus, he did not answer, and neither had you at the time, since conversation had moved on quickly after Alhaitham had shut his former roommate down.

However, despite his claims of it being meaningless, it seems to have stuck to his mind. He finds himself pondering the question whenever his mind drifts off work, which is a rare occurrence in itself, since he is a very focused individual.

Would he be a dog? Absolutely not. A crow? No, he didn't much care for shiny things. On the broader spectrum, a solitary animal? No, he had you.

The question, after everything, proved to be quite challenging.

The answer finally comes to him on an empty weekend afternoon which he's got no choice but to fill with physical contact from his undoubted "love of my life"—he says it that way, but he's got plenty choice and he chooses without hesitation.

Alhaitham's holding you, and you are merely enjoying your time together, when he says, "I think I'd be a cat."

Quickly recalling the conversation, you perk up to follow up, "Yeah? How so?"

"They're solitary beings, to a point, both enjoying alone time and company." He nods to himself, "They have fine taste, unlike dogs, they groom themselves and display a sense of discipline regarding so. Plus, if I really was a cat, I would have nothing to do around the house except lounge around. I wouldn't have any work to do, which is always a plus."

"To be fair, Haitham," You snicker in return, "if you were any animal, you wouldn't have to work."

"I meant that as a cat, you don't even have the burden of "tricks" automatically placed on you." Of course he thought it through.

"Guess you're right." You snuggle closer to his chest, and he thinks that's that.

But then you're perking up again, pulling away from his tight embrace, turning it loose as you meet his eyes. "I think I would be a cat too."

"Oh, yeah?" He shifts too, interestedly.

"I'd get to show you my love that way." You grin up at him, and he can't help but to smile back, despite the lack of elaboration so far. "Cats kiss each other by licking, I think, and they cuddle all the time. Could you imagine laying under a stray ray of sun, together?"

Strangely enough, he can.

There's the warmth of the summer, or of heat in the winter, on his fur, hot but pleasant, and he's got yet another source of heat between his paws, so to speak. He can also imagine himself with a nice black coat, and you with an orange one. It's a nice thought, oddly domestic.

"Yeah." He hugs you closer, the thought freshly laid to rest behind his closed eyelids, and you can tell he's satisfied.

Finally, that's that.

[ailawritesfics]

✎ 18+ minors dni, age gap, cheating, established relationship with natsuo, dabi is called touya, mirror sex, penetration, dubcon, blackmail, use of whore/doll, fingering, almost getting caught

✎ 1.4k words

Just Touya eyeing Natsuo's pretty little girlfriend.

Natsuo has brought you over to his place a handful of times already. The first few was to meet the family. The family in question being Rei, Fuyumi, and Shoto. At first you questioned why he only introduced you to his mother and two of his siblings. You were even more confused when he so vaguely explained why he didn't want to introduce you to his father and was even more adamant to refuse to have you meet his eldest brother, Touya.

Why? He couldn't give you a straight answer, half of the time you chalked it up to half baked excuses. But you trust your boyfriend so despite your curiosity, you didn't ask for the reason again and did your best to avoid Touya when you're visiting the Todoroki residence.

Touya is intimidating. He's nearly twice your age, taller, and has a gaze that's enough to make anyone weak at the knees. You aren't sure if it's his scars that piqued your interest or the smirk dawning his lips whenever you'd swiftly pass by him to reach Natsuo's room. He's an enigma. Always missing at family dinners, somehow always reeks of smoke and ash like burning firewood, and on the days you do see him, he seems to always be lurking.

You paid him no mind like Natsuo asked you to.

"Ignore him," Natsuo had told you a while back when you first ran into the eldest son of the Todoroki's by accident because neither you nor Natsuo knew he was home that day.

You did as you were told. As much as you can. You tried to ignore him on the rare times he had joined the family for dinner when Natsuo brought you over. Ignored the way his gaze lingered, moving up and down your body so shamelessly and pretending he hadn't just been undressing you with his eyes when Natsuo calls him out on it. You tried to ignore the way his hands would touch your waist when you scurried past him down the hall, or how he'd purposefully trip you only to catch you with one hand by the hip and his playful "sorry" or "careful, doll, how clumsy of you" that follows after as he watches you with hooded eyes as you disappear into Natsuo's room.

Touya is Natsuo's older brother.

Touya is your boyfriend's older brother.

He shouldn't be trapping you in his arms, your legs hooked over his to keep you spread open for him in front of the full length mirror and making you hold his phone up with shaky hands to record the whole thing. His hand slides up yours, guiding the angle of the camera to show how his fingers slipped in and out of your soaked cunt, whispers of praise and degrading names come from his tongue yet all you can do is sit there and take it.

The entire thing was unsightly, you're cheating on your boyfriend. With his brother, no less. In the back of your mind something was screaming at you to protest, to pull away, to stop yourself from committing any more unfaithful acts but how could you when the drag of his fingers along your walls felt so much better than when Natsuo did it. Touya knew your body more than your own boyfriend did.

“And what are you thinking of in that pretty little head of yours, doll?” His voice catches your attention, his hand stilling inside of you. His cerulean eyes bore into your own, stone cold and devoid of any affection as he sought for an answer. You knew he didn't like it when you let your mind wonder, your attention should only be on him.

A shudder runs down your spine at the feeling of his breath on your neck. It's warm. Hot. Too hot.

“ ‘m sorry,” you stutter an apology, hoping he'd let it slide tonight.

Touya doesn't seem satisfied at all with your answer, eyes still glaring at you through the reflection in the mirror. Then he hums in your ear, pressing his lips against your neck, “‘s that so? You're sorry?”

You nod, affirming you were apologetic. For a moment you think he'll forgive you as you feel his scarred hands move up your body, but in a swift moment he's holding your thigh up in one hand and the other gripping your cheeks. You can feel your own slick drip down your face but the harshness in his grip concerns you even more. He makes you look directly at your reflection in the mirror, refusing to let you turn your head to look away no matter how much you try.

You felt ashamed to even glance at your reflection. Touya held your thighs further apart, exposing you even more. Your heart pounded in your ears as you looked at yourself, you're everything you promised Natsuo you wouldn't be. And Touya loved it. Defiling his younger brother's precious little girlfriend, playing the long game to earn your trust and take advantage of your naivety, thinking he's just misunderstood by his family when in reality he's everything they warned you he would be.

“Look at you. What would Natsuo think if he saw you? His little girlfriend acting like a whore in front of his big brother.” Touya chided, his tone showing he finds the situation more amusing than it actually is.

You close your eyes, hoping the shame and guilt from your actions all goes away but Touya doesn't let you have that moment of wishful thinking. He's far too cruel to grant you anything more than a curt pat on the cheek before he's hoisting you up by your forearms and practically pushing you onto the bed, the mattress sinking under your weight. He hovers above you, propping himself on his forearm while he aligns himself at your entrance.

This isn't the first time this has happened and each time you find yourself in Touya’s room, the shame and guilt gets worse but the more he seeks you out, the more you enjoy the secret rendezvous. And it's not like you could say anything about these secret meetings anyway. Not when he has recordings of every encounter saved on his phone and probably backed up in a hard drive somewhere.

A soft moan slips past your lips when Touya pushes in, feeling his thick cock splitting you open. Only half way in, he shoves the rest of his cock in your cunt, making your fingers dig into the covers, a sharp gasp leaving your lips accompanied by his groans.

He pulls nearly all the way out then slams back in, setting a rough and brutal pace right from the start. You gasp his name in a manthra, feeling him drag deliciously along your walls and hitting that sweet spot inside you so precisely. It feels too good, even better than when Natsuo does it.

“Look at you. Already falling apart on my cock like you weren't just fucking Natsuo hours ago.” Touya groans, keeping up his pace. He grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder, hitting even deeper. “He couldn't satisfy you enough that you had to come to my room begging to be dicked down properly.”

You shake your head no, trying to make sense of what he's saying over all the pleasure.

“No? Kind of hard to believe that when you're already letting me fuck you, doll.”

A knock on the door startles both of you, making Touya curse rather loudly. It swings open without warning, accompanied by a voice you're far too familiar with. Touya moves his body to cover your face, hiding you from Natsuo's sight. He covers your mouth with one hand, wordlessly telling you to stay quiet.

“Touya-nii, I need your help with something-” Natsuo's voice cuts off when he sees his brother's naked lower half, scrambling to cover his eyes and look away from the scene before him.

“ ‘m a little busy here.” Came Touya’s nonchalant reply.

The younger brother's face flushes red. He covers his eyes with one hand, and the other waving frantically as he tries to reach for the door, “Sorry, sorry–” and slams it shut in a rush.

Touya moves back to a comfortable position, straddling your hips as he sits on his heels, looking at you as you lay on the bed with a frown and furrowed brows.

“He didn't see you. Don't get so worked up about it.” He chuckled at your expression and gave a half-hearted apology you know he doesn't actually mean.

“Now, where were we?”

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Ten

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Ten: Traveling to Okinawa

Summary: (Y/N) and Saiki prepare for their school trip, and it is, of course, chaotic.

            PK Academy was buzzing with excitement for the Okinawa trip. Yumehara and Teruhashi were especially excited because they wanted to spend time with Saiki. That meant they had to join his group. Of course, the obvious answer was to first ask (Y/N) to ask the boys (since they had already roped them into their group), but they were over with Saiki, and neither wanted to embarrass themselves in front of their crush. They tried to ask the other guys, but Teruhashi’s fan club became too exuberant in trying to get her to join them. So, now the girls (plus (Y/N)) were joining boy groups by a lottery system. Teruhashi, of course, was first up. She walked up to the box and rummaged around in it for a second.

            Yare yare. I feel bad that (Y/N) won’t be in my group, but I can’t have them and Yumehara there, too.

            “I choose this one!” declared Teruhashi.

            “Teruhashi’s group will join Takahashi’s group,” announced Hairo.

            “From here on, if you wanna talk to Teruhashi, talk to me first,” said Takahashi proudly as the other boys yelled in outrage.

            (Y/N) sighed. I wanted to be in Saiki’s group…

            Teruhashi and Yumehara felt the same way. They were very disappointed.

            “So Teruhashi’s group will join Takahashi’s, but what about the rest?” asked Hairo. “Shall we decide the rest via raffle as well?”

            The boys just mumbled about not caring. (Y/N) sweat-dropped. A girl from another group finally walked up and picked out another group.

            “Ugh, we got Nendou? Being in Nendou’s group is like, totes the worst!” she spat while her group nodded. “Like, can we pick again? This, like, totes kills the trip for us.”

            “Then our group will switch with theirs!” volunteered Teruhashi angelically.

            “T-Teruhashi?!” stammered Takahashi’s group.

            (Y/N) brightened. They knew Saiki wouldn’t enjoy having Teruhashi and Yumehara with him, but they really wanted to be in his group. They were friends with him and the others in the group, after all.

            “That is, if Nendou and the other two are okay with it,” continued Teruhashi.

            Everyone was amazed at the perfect pretty girl wanting to be in Nendou’s group. However, it didn’t last long as they all thought about how kind and selfless she was for doing it. It made her more perfect to them. The class began to cheer for their goddess.

            Yare yare. The only good thing about this is (Y/N) being in my group. Other than that…I’m just stuck with two more bothers.

            The class seemed to be satisfied with the rest of the results. Then, Hairo got called over by the teacher. When he returned to the room, his face was slightly crestfallen (as much as Hairo could be).

            “Which of you are in Mera’s group?” asked Hairo.

            “Oh, we are,” said (Y/N), raising their hand.

            “It looks like she can no longer go on the trip with us,” said Hairo.

            “Aw, why?” asked (Y/N).

            “Apparently, they couldn’t catch as many bluefin tuna as they wanted,” explained the class rep. “It’s unfortunate, but we can’t do anything about it. So it’s been decided that we’ll do groups of eight instead of groups of seven. Two of the members of Teruhashi’s group have to join another.”

            Instantly, Teruhashi and Yumehara glanced at (Y/N), who was humming pleasantly. They were better friends with the boys, so they were the obvious choice to stay in the group. Other people were also pulling them away.

            Looks like God is on my side.

l

            Saiki sighed in annoyance as he listened to Makoto prattle on and on about the “perverted” things Saiki was “thinking” and how he would be there to stop Saiki from doing anything. It was really quite disturbing how detailed Makoto was getting. Saiki was prepared to just not go, but…he could hear Mera and (Y/N) passing by. Mera was sad about not being able to go, and (Y/N) was disappointed their friend couldn’t come.

            That did it.

            Alright, Teruhashi. You win.

l

            “What shall we do, teacher?” asked Hairo.

            (Y/N) had been bouncing up and down in excitement at the trip, but they were starting to get nervous since it might be canceled now.

            “This isn’t good…” said the teacher.

            Suddenly, the PA system announced, “Due to a typhoon, the flight to Okinawa scheduled for ten o’clock has been temporarily suspended at this time.”

            (Y/N) sighed and slumped in their seat. “What bad luck…”

            “When I was finally able to go,” mourned Mera.

            Saiki sighed as the depressed thoughts of his friends bothers flooded him.

            “Excuse me, if the flight gets canceled, will the school trip be postponed?” asked a student.

            “No, it’ll be canceled,” said Matsusaki.

            “What?!” cried everyone.

            “I want you to go…but it’s out of my hands,” said Matsusaki sadly.

            “Teacher!” cried the students.

            “Don’t give up, guys!” shouted Hairo, clearly trying to delude himself. “It’s not like the flight has been canceled! One, two, sun! Don’t give up! Come on, guys! Cheer with me!”

            (Y/N) just sighed gloomily.

            Yare yare, even their endless sunniness is dampened. I can’t keep watching this. He couldn’t have (Y/N) upset. He liked them happy. Saiki teleported away for a moment before returning, soaking wet.

            “Hey! The flights back on!” chirped (Y/N) happily. “The news says the typhoon suddenly disappeared!” They grinned and then cocked their head. “Saiki? Why are you wet?”

            “Never mind it.” He smiled a tiny bit. “Now, let’s take that school trip.”

            “Yeah!” cheered (Y/N).

            Finally, PK Academy boarded the plane and was off to Okinawa. (Y/N) took out headphones and leaned back in their seat. While Yumehara, Teruhashi, and Mera were talking, they decided to take a nice long nap. They wanted as much energy as possible when they arrived in Okinawa.

l

            “The ocean looks so beautiful!” said (Y/N), looking out the bus window.

            “It’s so green!” said Nendou. “I wonder if someone’s dumpin’ some paint out there. Right, pal, pinky?”

            (Y/N) just grinned and shook their head.

            “Hey, (Y/N)!” called Yumehara. “Look!” She opened her shirt, revealing a bikini top.

            (Y/N)’s cheeks warmed, and they looked away. “Yumehara!”

            “Don’t take your clothes of here!” Teruhashi blushed.

            “It’s just a bathing suit,” explained Yumehara.

            “That makes more sense,” said (Y/N). “Stripping on the bus doesn’t seem your thing. I’m guessing you’re excited about the beach?”

            “Totally!” said Yumehara.

            “Me, too,” said Teruhashi.

            (Y/N) smiled. “I can’t wait to go. I bought a new swimsuit for the occasion.”

            “Oh, are you not wearing a guy’s swimsuit this time?” asked Yumehara.

            “No, I went for a two-piece,” said (Y/N). “I thought I’d have fun.”

            “I got a bikini, too,” remarked Teruhashi.

            “We’ll be like a fashion show!” commented (Y/N), beaming as the bus stopped.

            “Ooh, finally, we’re getting food!” Mera was drooling at the thought.

            She quickly pulled everyone into the building the teachers were escorting them into. They were all sat down in groups around tables and given food.

            “So, this is Okinawa soba, huh? It doesn’t look like soba at all,” said Nendou.

            “Well, one difference is that they don’t use buckwheat flour, so—,” said Yumehara.

  ��         “Whatever it is, it looks good! Let’s chow down!” Nendou began eating.

            “Kuwachii sabira,” said Kaidou in the Okinawan dialect.

            Everyone stared blankly at him.

            “Yep! Maasan! This is ippee maasan,” said Kaidou as he ate.

            “Sure! Maasan!” chirped (Y/N).

            “Don’t start,” said Saiki, giving them a look.

            They laughed sheepishly while Kaidou continued attempting the Okinawan dialect.

            “He’s trying too hard.”

            “Th-Th-That’s amazing, Kaidou,” said Teruhashi, struggling to get the lie out.

            “I can’t remember them at all,” said Yumehara.

            “That’s fine!” said Kaidou. “Even if you don’t get ushinaa guchi, nankura naisa!”

            “He was excited for that phrase,” observed (Y/N).

            Finally, after an excruciatingly incomprehensible narration of the meal by Kaidou, the group finished eating and left the restaurant.

            “We still have some time left. Do you wanna stop by the souvenir shop?” asked Mera.

            “Sure!” (Y/N) nodded. With that, the girls enjoyed the time until dinner with some light shopping.

l

            “Now this is what a school trip’s all about!” cheered three boys at the hot springs. “Peeping!”

            Yare yare. Hearing their thoughts makes me feel gross.

            “Actually, I came once before to check things out,” said one boy.

            “To Okinawa?!” cried Takahashi. “That’s commitment, Murata!”

            “The hotel switches the men’s and women’s baths each day. I have a good grasp of the other side, too,” said Murata.

            “Wow…I can’t even find words…” said the third boy, impressed.

            “But it’ll all be worth it…to get a peek at her!” declared Murata, clearly thinking of Teruhashi. “The best place to peek is under that light.”

            I’ll block their line of sight.

            “What is she’s already gotten out?” asked Takahashi.

            “They might not compare to Teruhashi, but Mera and (L/N) are pretty hot as well,” said the third.

            Saiki stopped his movements. Yare yare. I guess I’ll have to handle this differently.

            As the three used periscopes to try to look over the fence, Saiki twisted the tops around. The boys were met with the horrifying picture of a naked Nendou.

            I don’t understand what the big deal about naked bodies is— Saiki accidentally looked through the fence with his x-ray vision. He could see (Y/N) in the water with their back turned. It was more of them than he had ever seen. Oh, wow. He immediately looked away. He had not expected that reaction to them. Shaking his head, he dispelled the thoughts, but they continued to bob in his head. Yare yare. I’m going down to the beach to get away from all of this.

            If Saiki had known the situation would just get worse, perhaps he wouldn’t have lay down on that beach chair that night.

Taglist:

@elaemae

@painstakingly-juno

@characterreaderwriter

@melovepurple

@sleep-7372

@w0mank1sser

@geminigengar

@noodleryworld

@leonardo-dabitchy

@janezee12751275

@xenop0p

@ex160-blog1

@futureittomainn

@boogiemansbitch

@dmitrytherat

@yuriisclumsy

@sixxze

@constellationguy

@k03ume

@sweatyinternettrash

@paastaboi

@unorthodox-gob

@girlswhopanic

@h-i-g-h-w-a-y-t-o-h-e-l-l-l

[max1461]

There is a common motte-and-bailey argument applied to paper over expressions of dissatisfaction with life in industrial society.

The motte is "before industrial production of vaccines and antibiotics, infant mortality rates were extremely high, and this was an inordinate tragedy that can now thankfully be prevented".

The bailey is "your claim to personal dissatisfaction with being a (post-)industrial wage laborer is invalid, it is false that you would feel more stimulated or satisfied (etc.) by a hunter-gatherer lifestyle (etc.) than by your current lifestyle".

Look, I don't know what type of lifestyle would make random internet posters feel the most stimulated or the most satisfied. I don't know if it's running around in the woods or working at a desk job or being a rich failchild. I have no fucking clue and neither do any of us, maybe not even them! Although obviously I suspect they have a better approximation of the answer than any of us do.

But what I do feel confident in saying is that 90% of people complaining about industrial society online are not anti-civ. They're not saying "let's get rid of vaccines". They're saying "boy this wage labor shit makes me unhappy, and the way people used to live looks more rewarding". I don't know if they're right, in any individual case, and also people have a lot of misconceptions about how we used to live that are worth correcting. But I can say with great confidence that no important aspect of this discussion hinges on historical child mortality rates or vaccine production. Those are relevant points when discoursing with a small set of radicals, and not with the average tumblr user romanticizing pre-industrial life.

It is not a law of the universe that when one thing gets better, everything else gets better too. Maybe that cottagecore girl or whatever actually would feel more fulfilled living off the difficult physical labor of a pre-industrial farm. Is that so hard to imagine? It seems straightforwardly plausible to me.

I think a lot of the frustration that people have with this is that the cottagecore girls and the running-around-in-the-woods guys present these ostensible lifestyle preferences with a moralizing tone. Like "you're all such sheep for wanting to live a modern life". And I get that that's annoying, but I'll point out that their discourse-foils are also doing much the same thing in reverse: "you're all such fools for thinking you'd enjoy working on a farm more than in an office". I don't know, maybe they would! I don't think they are necessarily being fools!

[ibbythebee]

Hospital Wing Hermits

gif credit: @handknit on wattpad

pairing: Neville Longbottom x year younger!reader

summary: From Neville's second year at Hogwarts to his last, his most memorable times with you have been spent in the hospital wing.

genre: fluffiness all round, slight angst at the end... but only a little, slow-burny

warnings: this fic is so soft that you will potentially combust, slight swearing, SO MUCH hand holding, the reader is an oblivious goofball until she's not, kissing, talks about illnesses and injuries, blood and boogers

words: 6k

masterlist

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville's 2nd Year

Clutching onto Madame Pomfrey is nothing new to Neville. In the middle of the night, however, is a different story. The Nurse coos whenever the boy makes the slightest sound of pain, holding him up as not to put anymore pressure on his right foot.

"We're just about there, dear. Come on, just a few more steps..."

Leading him to the middle of the hospital wing's room, she then guides him onto an untouched bed, and immediately slides a pillow underneath his ankle. A spot of light on the opposite side of the room does not go unnoticed to either the woman or boy as soon as they had entered the room.

Neville rubs his eyes, squinting at the strange glowing mound of sheets. He watches as, with a sigh, Madame Pomfrey marches to the other preoccupied bed and pulls over the white covers to reveal you, a sheepish looking girl.

Under the light of your wand, your face looks puffy, lips and nose chapped, hair amuck. You cough into your elbow and smile a toothy innocent smile, batting your big eyes at the woman, silently pleading your innocence.

Pomfrey, however, does not play games. "Turn off that incessant light, Miss L/N. Do you realise what time it is?"

Your lips shape into a pout, voice stuffy as you answer. "But Madame Pomfrey, it's so boring here. I'm bored."

"No, you should be asleep. Turn that off right now. I don't want to have to send another owl to your mother about you refusing medical help."

"Just a few more minutes please? I'll finish the page I'm reading."

"Absolutely not. It's basic manners and respect for your fellow peer." She motions to Neville, and you finally turn to him.

Despite the fatigue in your features, your eyes seem to glow, piercing through the dark room. Perhaps it's just his lack of sleep or absence of light, but there is something drawing him to you and he fails to look away. Nothing comes out of his mouth even though he knows he's probably supposed to greet you, but neither do you.

A second longer you stare at your new roommate and in eventual defeat, you pout. The light from your wand fades, as you mumble 'nox' under your breath and get comfortable under the blankets.

Satisfied, Madame Pomfrey clears the rubbish bin underneath your bed and turns back to Neville handing him a small flask of some sort of healing potion.

"All right. Off to bed now both of you. Good night, dears."

You both mutter a 'goodnight', closing your eyes, gingerly pulling the covers up to your chins.

It stays mostly quiet in the room, apart from the Nurse's shuffling. Though as time passes, shoes click and click away, and then the door creaks shut.

"Psst!"

Neville stirs.

"Hey, psst!"

"Huh?" Is all Neville can manage, lifting his head with a groggy squint.

"What happened to you?" You ask in a loud whisper and sniffle. Sitting straight, and staring right at him. Your eyes really are big, inquisitive.

"Well I... twisted my ankle," he finally says.

"How?"

"I... I'd rather not say. It's embarrassing, really."

"I won't tell anyone," you say as-a-matter-of-factly. "You can hex me if I do."

He looks at you through narrow eyes again and this time it's your teeth that glow. As you show no interest in falling asleep, Neville's neck admits defeat and his head crashes back down onto the pillow. "Can we just please go to sleep?"

"I caught a cold... or maybe a fever. Runny nose—" you sniff, wiping your face with your pajama sleeve "—wet cough, high temperature. My mum says I have a weak immune system."

"Well, that's not very good, is it?" He comments half-heartedly to the ceiling.

"No, it isn't."

Silence. For a moment, he believes that you've finally surrendered yourself.

"So how'd you twist your ankle in the middle of the night?"

Never mind.

"You don't seem like a rule-breaker," you say.

He carefully shuffles up to sit and sighs. Where on earth did you get your energy from? He hadn't met such a talkative first year before.

Neville takes a moment to answer, debating on whether or not you're harmless enough for him to be vulnerable. "I had a nightmare, okay? I fell off my bed and... landed badly."

"Well, that's not very good, is it?" You echo.

"No, it isn't."

Silence once again ensues, but this time Neville's ready for your chatterbox mouth.

"What's your name? I'm..." You suddenly stop and he nearly laughs when your silhouette jerks and you sneeze. It's loud, like his Gran.

"Nice to meet you, Achoo." He chuckles, holding a hand over his mouth.

You sniff again, face hot in a new wave of humiliation, and this time you wipe your face with more aggression. "Hey, that's not funny! My name is — A-ACHHHOO!"

"Isn't that what I just said?" He can't help but laugh again. Relishing in the groan you emit and how furiously you blow your nose.

With a poke of your tongue, you retort. "Whatever, Mr... mm... Fall-out-of-bed...n-nightmare-broken-ankle-boy."

"Wow, that's really fantastic, Achoo." He slides back down into his bed, closing his eyes with content and tries to hold in his giggles as you continue with determination to clear up your mistake.

Initially, Neville thought he wouldn't even be able to get in a nap, but now with the understanding that you bark more than you bite, he creates a silly image of you in the form of a puppy. As your voice rings in the background, the puppy image barks with you, and he feels his eyes grow heavy, falling into a content and nightmare-less sleep.

»»————-　⌁　——���—-««

Neville’s 4th Year

Ever since sleeping the night in the hospital wing, Neville knew he'd be seeing more of you. It was surprising to him that he hadn't noticed you before that night, especially seeing as you were such a social butterfly. And despite being in the year below, he'd always manage to catch your eyes in the Great Hall. And in the courtyard. And in the halls. And through a classroom window. You were everywhere and anywhere. And when you weren't, you were in bed in the hospital wing.

Just like you are now. The fourteen-year-old hadn't seen you for the past few weeks after the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and needless to say, he had to see you.

And such a perfect opportunity had arose today, albeit a painful one, but an opportunity none the less.

Neville opens the door to the wing as gently as possible as not to wake you, however knowing you, you probably already were.

Entering the room, he clutches his sore hand to his ribs and cranes his neck to spot the nurse. Instead he finds your lying form under a mountain of blankets.

You stir, and Neville curses at his shoes for making so much noise. Sure, his intention of coming here was to see you, but he’d seldom seen you in such a peaceful state and didn’t want to ruin that for you.

“Neville?” He hears you say and then you’re facing him.

He smiles down at you, with a voice just as soft as silk. "Hey, Achoo. Didn't mean to wake you. How you feeling?”

“I’m feeling alright. Kinda headache-y, but fine. Ugh, what time is it?” You rub your eyes and stretch as you sit up.

The messiness of your bed-hair is incredibly endearing and the curve in Neville’s lips only grow at the sight.

“It’s third period.”

“Then… what are you doing here? Are you hurt?”

You’re suddenly on your feet, eyes round and wide, taking in the scene of the tall boy. He flinches, attempting to hide his hand in his robe sleeve.

You snatch his hand, bringing it close to your face. It’s a burn. All over the back of his palm. "Bloody hell— Where's Madame Pomfrey?"

"I was about to ask you the same question." A small chuckle falls from his lips as you examine him. Somehow, in some miracle he watches your big eyes grow larger as you twist his hand, move his long fingers to get as much information about his wound.

He feels like he’s going crazy, your touch is a new kind of burn on his skin. It doesn’t sting, but it is hot. And you don’t even know you’re causing it.

"She's always gone when you actually need her,” you huff.

"It's not as bad as it looks, really. Just hurts a little when I move it."

"What about when I...?" You drift off, as you slide a delicate thumb over his beet-red knuckles.

The tips of his ears turn the same shade of red. "Stings."

With no further words, he lets you pull him to one corner of the hospital wing, searching for a particular ointment on the many shelves of medical supplies. You don't let go of his hand, and he doesn't dare pull away.

"Let me guess how it happened—" you say, grabbing a round jar of blue gel to read the label.

"Seamus." You both state and then share a laugh.

Placing the jar back, you continue your search and Neville fills the comfortable silence. "It's Potions class. For once I thought I was doing pretty decent and then next thing I know, Seamus' cauldron blows up next to me and of course I get the damage."

His hand is held up to your face again and he watches as you grab a new jar with a less solid looking gel, creamy in colour.

"I suppose it's a good way for me to get out of the rest of the class," he shrugs.

"And get away from Snape," you quip and earn a chuckle from him. There was a time in Neville’s third year, when you had come to learn about his amusing boggart. He’d snuck into the hospital wing, claiming he had a nasty headache and ended up staying the night, neither of you getting a wink of sleep. It had also been revealed that the thing you were most frightened of was giants.

“Sit down,” your motioning to the mattress behind him.

He does so without question, still attached to you by your pinkie, making himself comfortable on the edge of a neatly tucked bed. He follows your every action as you place the ointment jar beside his thigh and open the lid. You scoop a teaspoon amount with your fingers and lifted his burnt hand again.

Before the cream touches his burn, you begin to tell him about what illness you've caught today and he barely feels the sting of the medicine. There's no better spell or potion to kill pain than your voice, that much was evident even back when he first met you.

Concentration laces your features and unbeknownst to you, your hips hit the edge of the mattress, unaware to the fact that Neville's knees are on either side of you.

The sight of you between him for some reason makes it difficult for him to swallow. The urge to trap you with his legs increases by the second. "Hey, Y/N?"

You wipe off excess ointment on your pajama top and turn your attention to him. He rarely called you by your first name. Something's up.

"Yeah?"

"Well, the erm... You know in a week or so?"

"Mhm?"

There's a pause as he searches your eyes for confidence, then he finally announces. "Would you say you're a good dancer?"

Creases form between your brows and you pout at the question, really thinking it over. If there was anything else Neville had learnt about you was that you always answered his queries with great interest and thought. You never treat his questions as though they're dumb, and he’s come to adore you for that.

As you ponder, he slides his non-burnt hand under yours, idly fiddling with your delicate fingers; tracing around the length of them, lifting them up and dropping them one by one, and eventually laying his palm flat on top of yours. Were his hands always this big?

The tips of your fingers tap-tap against his, as you finally answer. "I suppose... I would like to think I am."

"Well... that's good to hear."

"What about you?"

"Oh me?" He finds your face and swallows thickly. "I've been practicing lately, so I can only hope I've improved."

A giggle breaks free from your lips and it’s music to his ears. "Practicing? Whatever for?"

"The Yule Ball, of course."

"The..." The creases near your brows form again. "I've completely forgotten about that."

He squeezes a finger of yours. "So, no one's asked you yet?"

You sneeze into your elbow and then for a second time, and your voice becomes stuffy to the amusement of Neville. "Asked me what?"

"Asked you to be their date, of course."

"Oh. No." Scoffing. "Being stuck in here means no social-life. And besides—" You spin around quick to grab a roll of bandage, and gingerly flatten it over his burn "—who's gonna want to dance with someone who sneezes every five minutes?"

"I would."

"That's what I thought — wait... you would?"

In an effort to look nonchalant, Neville shrugs, finding interest in a bird that's flying near the window. The tips of his ears poking out of his shaggy hair are giving you a different response, they're blushing.

You finish with his wound and step away from the bed, fingers feeling cold when you let go of him.

Upon inspection of your medical handiwork, he smiles gently. He hadn't felt a thing. "Thanks for this."

"I... I can't guarantee that I'll be completely healthy that day," you say.

"The Yule Ball?"

You nod in an almost embarrassed way, as you fiddle with the collar of your sleeping clothes.

Neville just shakes his head. "The suit my Gran got for me has a lot of pockets so I’ll carry all your tissues for you. Or anything else you might need, I'll keep them for you."

"That'sssss.... ACHHU!"

"Bless you. So what do you say? Would you... want to go with me? Maybe? I promise not to step on your feet."

"Miss L/N?! What on earth are you doing out of bed?!"

"MADAME POMFREY!" You both exclaim, faces and necks feeling hot.

"Come on, dear, why don't you ever follow simple orders?!"

Mumbles of pathetic protest fall from your lips as the woman drags you back to the other side of the room. You knock into Neville’s knee on the way and so he’s quick to follow behind you with his own incoherent babble about the burn on his hand.

You're settled under the blankets once again and watch as the nurse's eyes bulge at the sight of the tall boy's perfectly cared for palm. She inspects the bandage, inquires about the pain and what the cause was, all while Neville can't keep the flushed look off his face.

"She— well... Y/N helped me out. It doesn't hurt anymore, I'm fine now, Ma'am."

As the said woman keeps a hold of his hand, she turns to you with daggers. "What did you use? A potion? Spell, perhaps? Mr Longbottom could have severe side-effects if you're not careful."

"He won't," you grin toothily as you did back in your first year and point to the shelf in the right corner. "I used the ointment that you gave Theodore Nott not that long ago. Haha, Nott not."

Neville stifles a laugh, and isn't surprised when the nurse doesn't question you further. You might be the only student that can get away with arguing with Madame Pomfrey.

The nurse's face instead takes the form of an appreciative and impressed expression. It's only natural that with your ‘weak immune system’, you've gained as much medical knowledge as you have colds and flus.

"I'll admit, you've done a splendid job with Neville. However, you simply cannot use whatever you like, whenever you like, on whomever you like. Next time this happens you need to wait for me to return, alright? Is that understood?"

Taking a glance at Neville's sheepish state, you sigh and nod in response.

"And Neville dear, don't encourage this behaviour. Especially not from Miss L/N."

"Okay, Ma'am."

She gives the boy a goodbye and immediately turns to you, a full on lecture spilling from her mouth. He isn’t supposed to leave yet, not when he’s just finally had the courage to ask you out.

Neville finds your helpless gaze behind the woman’s shoulder, and sends you a sad sort of smile before turning on his heel to get to the door.

"I-I'll go with you!" You yell.

The tall boy pauses, heart flipping at your words.

"To the Yule Ball."

There’s no stopping the grin that forms, and he finally nods after a second, hair shaking with the action.

Your eyes speak to him as your own smile appears.

Meanwhile, the woman huffs and puffs, cleaning the area around your bed. "Not in this state, you won't."

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville's 5th Year

The last time Neville was in the hospital wing, he'd come to talk to you about his recent endeavours in Herbology and let slip that he's been secretly practicing defensive magic with a group of other students, being taught by none other than Harry himself. There was no doubt that you would also be trusted enough to join, however seeing as you were once again bed-ridden, it felt best to keep it a secret until you got better.

Now it wasn't a secret anymore, and each time he'd visit you'd ask him to put in a good word with Harry, with the group. Neville always said he would, but he never did, fearing that Professor Umbitch would eventually catch onto you and you'd have to pay the ultimate price.

Karma is an Umbitch, however, and now it looks as if the only answer to Neville's current predicament is to let you join Dumbledore's Army, despite all his worries and his efforts to stop you from doing that.

Today’s DA training has been cut short, due to the fact that the fifteen-year old is now incapacitated. Blood refusing to slow down from his nose.

Going to Madame Pomfrey would've required him to come up with a believable story as to what happened, so the next best thing was to send for you, someone who already knows about this secret group.

"Neville!" A Ravenclaw boy shouts, interrupting his thoughts. "Your Bogey Bug is here— ow!"

Someone smacks the kid, and then suddenly the Weasley twins are leading you into the Room of Requirement. You stand over him, adorning new pajamas he hadn't seen before.

"Hey Achoo," he weakly smiles. "Thanks for coming."

The DA gather around, as you crouch to his side and immediately take the cloth he's been holding to his nose. You make a face at him. “Oh Neville… what are we going to do with you?”

A fresh line of blood rolls down to his lip, so you let him leave the fabric there to sink it in.

"Keep your head steady, okay? Don't lean back, just let the blood flow for now."

"I think my nose might be broken?"

"Neville, I swear to..." your head spins sharply, and a few students flinch. "Who did this?"

"We were practicing stupefy," the familiar voice of Seamus answers and immediately your tense shoulders relax seeing his face emerge behind the twins. "I didn't mean to. I swear, Y/N."

"He really didn't mean to," Neville echoes.

You sneeze into your elbow and shake your head, palm making contact with your cheek. "See, this is why you should’ve told me about this secret army group thing so I could've joined and stopped something like this from happening.”

"I'm sorry."

You take Neville's hand again and lift the cloth, checking over the damage. There is damage, alright. You try not to make a show of wincing, fearing that the brown-haired boy would get anxious by your reaction, but his nose really does look quite out of sorts. Out of line. Broken.

He realises you haven't said a word in a while and smiles again, "you can fix, can't you, Achoo?"

"I told Neville I could treat him, but he kept refusing and insisted for your presence," Luna's soft voice interrupts as she crouches down beside you.

Someone amongst the crowd starts to coo and the tips of Neville's ears manage to turn beet red, more so when you turn your attention to him, expression unreadable.

Luna carries on, eyes focused on you. "He wouldn't let anyone touch him. Not until now, anyway."

"Okay!" A sudden clap startles even Luna, and you all turn to the perpetrator. Harry Potter's back is turned to your direction as he addresses the crowd, "I think we'll call it a day. Neville needs his strength and so do you."

The crowd murmurs, exchanging pouts and disappointed shrugs.

"Be proud of yourselves, you all did brilliantly today. Each and every one of you have improved. Next time we get to meet we'll continue with the Patronus Charm."

"What about Bogey Bug? How do we know she's not gonna rat us out?" A girl in Hufflepuff asks.

Neville sees you stand up, slapping a hand over your chest. "I swear on my life and the life of Neville—."

"Hey!"

"—that I will not snitch on this group or expose any of you. I promise to be loyal and keep my mouth shut about this."

Some faces don't seem convinced, as more murmurs and chatter erupt.

"She can be our nurse!" Neville exclaims, stealing everyone's attention. It's time to put in that good word for you. "We won't have to go to the hospital wing if Achoo— I mean, Y/N is here. She's really good at what she does. Plus, I accidentally told her about the army about a month ago and she hasn't told a soul since. I do..."

Your big eyes soften when he turns to you.

"...I trust her with my life."

"All right then," Harry claps once more. "All those in favour of Y/N becoming part of the army, raise your hand."

A few hands come up, whilst others whisper for a moment. One more, then four more, and then more hands raise faster than you can count them. You and the broken-nosed boy share grins, as you squeeze his free hand.

"That's it then. Y/N, welcome to Dumbledore's Army."

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville’s 6th year

Following the events of the previous year of school you and Neville had grown ever closer. Outside of the classroom you'd never be seen without the other. Inseparable. There'd even been a rumour going around that you were dating, but you always denied such claims and Neville could only comply. He hadn't yet told anyone about his feelings for you, although it seemed that those in his close circle were figuring it out on their own.

After having looked like a lost pygmy puff in the Great Hall, Luna found Neville and mentioned to him that you looked 'out of sorts' during class. He hadn't even asked about you. She just knew to tell him.

So, it’s only fitting for him to be by your side now, during lunch hour.

You’re shivering underneath all the sheets and blankets, and yet as Neville glides the back of his fingers across your forehead, you’re sweating as well.

“Hang in there Achoo, you’ll be fine in no time. The spell will take effect.”

You can only give so much as a nod, and groan when your lower abdomen tightens with a deep, stabbing ache.

“Shh,” Neville smooths his delicate fingers over your forehead again, tucking loose strands back to their place with the rest of your hair. “I'm here. Do you want me to distract you with anything?"

"Anything," you squeak, eyes shut tightly as if doing that would stop your cramps and make you fall asleep faster. "Please."

"Alright, erm..." He slides his tongue over his bottom lip and leans in closer to you, elbow pressing into the mattress. "I suppose I can tell you about a dream I had not long ago. You were in it."

"The Hippogriff one?" You tremble.

"No, this is a new one," he smiles when you meet his gaze, finding your fingers peeking through the sheets and taking them into his hands. "It's really stupid, as dreams usually go, but I really like it."

Your fingers are stretched out, as Neville begins to trace over your palm. First he draws a circle and you giggle a little at the feeling.

"This is me," he draws a triangle, "and this is you. It seems like any ordinary day, except you and I have the same classes. In the dream we're both popular. Everyone cheers for us when we get good marks, and even Professor Snape smiles at you."

"No way."

He laughs and traces a shape with lots of spikes. "Yes way. It really seems too good to be true, because there's even a moment where we successfully sneak out at night, we're just in our pajamas and we're watching the stars from the astronomy tower."

"I'm waiting for the 'but'."

"But — here comes the stupid part — you just start flying out of nowhere. One second you're next to me, the next you're just in the sky. I'm freaking out trying to reach for your hand, but you're just so calm about the fact that you mysteriously gained the ability to fly."

You're giggling again, especially as he slaps your palm a few times to emphasise the story. "Accurate reaction."

"And then it just ends with me being able to breath fire."

"What?" You laugh, brows pulling together in amusement. "I wonder what Professor Trelawney would say about that. What all of it might represent."

He draws a line on each of your fingers, slow and tickly. "If it's anything like I've been told before, it probably means bad luck."

"Well I was also in the dream with you, so we'll go through the bad luck together." To his surprise, you thread your fingers through his and squeeze. You're not trembling anymore, you haven't been for the past minute or so, and it doesn't feel like you're being stabbed over and over in the stomach.

"Think you can sleep now?" He asks, fingers hesitantly unravelling.

You nod, grinning at him, those eyes of yours finally shining as bright as they usually do.

"Want me to go get Madame Pomfrey?"

You shake your head. And then your arms are around his neck, head tucked in the space between your bicep and his jawline.

It feels like a millennium till he returns your gesture, arms securing around your waist and back, pulling you in tightly and desperately. The mix of the wing's clinical scent and the smell of baked desserts fills his nose. He could've sworn he'd smelt something like this during Potions class.

"Stay with me," you purr. "Please."

He knows he has class in ten minutes, he knows he can't skip, he knows he'll get in trouble.

So with your arms determined to remain wrapped around each other he bends over, moving till your head meets the pillow. He kicks off one of his school shoes. Then the other.

You feel his knees dip into the mattress beside your thighs, and then you have to part for a moment as he slips under the blankets, his head settling on the pillow right beside yours.

When he's comfortable, you take one of his hands and lower it until he brushes over your clothed belly.

Keeping the heat from entering his ears and cheeks is impossible, as his hand flattens over your stomach, shock evident in his features from your bold action.

"Could you keep it there?" You say, when you feel his uncertainty. "It'll help if the cramps come back." Your own hands smooth over his, trapping him there.

"I will." He swallows thickly. "Are you comfortable?"

You nod. "Are you?"

"Absolutely. Yes. I am."

A content breath passes your lips and you smile, all giddy like, at the ceiling. "Thank you for being here. For being with me always. For not making fun of me being sick all the time. Not calling me Bogey Bug. For... for just being you. For being my most favourite person ever."

"I could really say the same about you." Both your voices are barely above a whisper, seeing as your faces are so close together.

"Thanks Neville," you turn to him, and tap the back of his hand on your belly.

You stare at each other for a moment, and for some reason it doesn't feel wrong. It's not awkward.

Neville breaks the silence. "You... you know how everyone keeps saying that we're... you know going out?"

"Yeah."

Neville pauses for a second, you're staring so intensely, pupils large and beautiful. He tries to swallow past the lump in his throat and squeezes the material of your clothes. He can talk to you, he can ask you the question. He's battled against Bellatrix Lestrange before, he's been put in Gryffindor for a reason. He can ask you. "What do you say we make those rumours... not rumours anymore?"

The corners of your mouth twitch. "You-You mean... you mean like...?"

"Yes. Like that. Like... I want to spend the rest of my life with you, sort of way."

You don't say anything.

He continues, with a small bite of his lip. "Like... I'm completely mad for you and if I don't tell you now I don't think I'll ever get the chance to again."

"This... isn't a dream, is it?"

"Can I prove to you this isn't a dream?"

"Okay."

And it really feels like a dream, as his face leans in and you feels his lips press against the corner of your mouth.

"Did that help?" he whispers.

You twist around to lay on your side, guiding Neville's big hand up to your waist. "You missed, Neville."

"What?"

"You missed."

This time you both lean in, and this time Neville doesn't miss.

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville’s 7th year

The last Horcrux has been destroyed, Voldemort's killed, the Death Eaters have fled. New life has been brought to Hogwarts, sun pooling through the shattered windows of the Great Hall.

People sit on broken stools, torn and ashy blankets, chatter quiet and solemn. A few people manage to tell jokes and liven the mood, others cuddle, kiss, crying tears of relief. Nurses scamper around tending to the badly wounded.

Only...

As Neville limps his way through the hall he desperately scans over the crowds only to realise you're not here. You're not by Madame Pomfrey. You're not by Luna either. Neville finds Ginny's tired but hopeful figure and before he can tap her shoulder, she's already turned to him with a gentle smile.

She shakes her head before he even has a chance to speak. "I haven't seen Y/N. Not since... well not since she took care of Freddie. 'M sorry Neville."

"No," he shakes his head and gives the girl a gentle hug when her voice wavers and her bottom lip quivers. "No, I'm sorry."

"You helped kill Voldemort. That's hardly anything to be sorry for," she smiles again as they part, softly pushing at his shoulder to leave. To keep searching for you. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye out for her."

Neville sends her a purposeful nod and turns to leave, the sword of Gryffindor still snug in his hand. At times he uses the weapon as a crutch, the pain in his everything starting to take a toll as previous rushes of adrenaline begin to fade. The only thing keeping him going is the thought of you. You and your sneezes, your messy hair, your often nasally voice, your big eyes and equally big grins. You.

He passes what looks to be remnant of the hospital wing's door, merely a pile of wood chips and metal beams now. He hears the distant tweet of a bird, the pitter-patter of loose rubble and someone's sneeze.

The sword clangs to the ground and he's sprinting. Neville rounds the corner of the entrance to the wing and he stops, breath heavy, vision blurry.

You're there, and you're already staring at him, your grin so large and your eyes even more so and you're holding onto something familiar.

"N-Neville?" your voice is soft and so stuffy and gorgeous.

"Achoo, good Godric." His sore legs carry him to your side, and you're running toward him, arms open. And then you jump and he completely forgets about how much pain he's in when he catches you.

You cling to his sweater, to his shoulders, to his neck, to his waist, squeezing him with every bit of strength you've got left.

He's grasping at your hoody, your waist, your hair, your skin, he's touching all of you, scared that if he'll let go you won't be there anymore.

"I love you so much," he says through a trembling voice.

You pull away slightly and return your feet to the ground, legs unwrapping from his hips. You crane your neck to kiss his jaw, and then you kiss his cheek and his other and then finally his lips. And it sets your heart on fire, full of adoration and care and relief. You don't ever want to stop feeling him here, his supple lips against yours, especially as his hands cup your jaw, reeling you in for more and more.

"I love you Neville," you cry when you finally have to pull away to catch your breaths. "Ever since I first met you. You and your twisted ankle."

He chuckles, tenderly wiping a tear from the apple of your cheek with his thumb. He scans over the room for a moment, as he feels your fingers come to dance over the dry trail of blood from his head wound.

"I don't think we're ever gonna leave this place," he says with a caress of your jaw.

Following his gaze, you giggle. Those beds you spent countless nights on, those countless concoctions and medical supplies you've had used on you, they're all here, scattered and battered around the room.

"That's why I came here instead of the Hall," you say, keeping one arm around your boyfriend's waist and unravelling the other to reveal an intact jar of creamy coloured ointment. "I'm so sorry, I must've scared you nuts."

"Scared me to death more like, but all I had to do was listen out for your sneezes. Turns out it isn't that hard to find you."

You poke your tongue out and he laughs. "That's so embarrassing. Always comes back to me being a Bogey Bug."

"Yeah," he smoothly pulls you in for an ardent kiss, "my Bogey Bug."

"You know what else I am?"

You're leaning against his arms that are wrapped around you and he watches as you take off the lid of the jar. Just like his fourth year, you use your fingers to scoop up a teaspoon of the cream.

"What? What else are you?"

You step out and take one of his hands, letting his palm sit over the top of yours. And then the cream is applied over the burns on the back of his hands. In spite of these burns looking way worse than his wound from Potions class back in his fourth year, the pain is still barely felt once the ointment's smoothed over. What's also killing the sting is looking at your breathtaking eyes. He's lost in them, distracted completely.

"I'm also your nurse," you finally say, wiping the excess over your hoody.

Neville's mouth curls into a smirk, snaking his arms around you again and pressing your bodies tightly together. "Well, nurse. My lips are feeling kind of sore, do you think you can fix them?"

You hum, eyes twinkling with mischief as your hands link behind his neck.

His gaze dips to your mouth, trying to fight the heat flowing to his cheeks and ears. There will never be a time when you won't make him nervous and giddy.

You mirror his action, eyes taking their time stare at his lips. "You know what, darling? I think I've got just the thing for you."