#i do nothing with my hair. it’s thick and frizzy and looks like i’ve never seen a hairbrush in my life

[mossflower]

how in the name of all things holy do people do curly hair routines

[mangy-writes]

Moiraine Damodred, First of Her Name, Queen of Cairhien.

Two.

Notes: Lots of stuff in this one, major spoiler regarding Moiraine's family in this chapter, and some second hand embarrassment!! XD

After Merean shows me to my room I sigh and flop onto the bed. Light it had been a day, and I had forgotten just how convincing Merean was… Surprisingly I actually sort of missed her, sure she could be rather harsh at times, but she had never been cruel, or at least, I’ve never known her to be. 30 minutes after I get settled Alanna enters my room. “Hello! I’m Alanna Mosvani! Is it alright that I didn’t knock? I should've knocked but I was so excited to meet the newbies!” she says excitedly and light I had forgotten what she could be like when we were younger. “Hello Alanna, I am Moiraine Damodred.” I respond and her eyes brighten. “A Damodred! Imagine that! We haven’t had one of you in the Tower in centuries! Your family must be proud.” she says goodnaturedly. “Oh sure, my father, Uncle, and sister are very proud.” I tell her and her eyebrows knit together. “Uncle? You should have three. Or at least that’s what we were told.” she says slowly and I nod. “Laman is proud, Moressin and Aldecain couldn’t care less.” I tell her, “The same goes for my oldest two siblings, Taringail and Innlione.” I add and she frowns. “I am sorry.” she says, putting a hand on mine. “Don’t worry though, I’ll be proud of you enough for all four of them and then some!” she exclaims and I smile. “After all, you’re my new best friend. You and I, we’re in this together now.” she says seriously and I smile. “Friends.” I respond with a nod. After a while of talking Siuan comes into the room and sits down. “Oh! The other newbie! Hello I’m-” she begins but Siuan interrupts her. “Alanna Mosvani, you’re from Arafel and have been a Novice for almost 6 years. There’s a hole in the wall next to Moiraine’s headboard.” 

Alanna and I look at each other before laughing. “Well since you know everything about us, what’s your name?” I ask, knowing full well who she is. “Siuan Sanche, I’m from Tear.” she says simply and Alanna grins. “Well now that I have two new friends I have an idea!” she says suddenly and I internally groan, that sentence never bodes well for me.

It’s been three weeks since I left Cairhien and I am walking with Alanna when I hear an all too familiar hoot. “Wilbur?” I ask, doing a complete circle and low and behold the owl comes and rests on my shoulder. “Who is this?” Alanna asks me and I grin. “My owl child.” I respond and she grins. “When did you get him?” she asks and I smile. “I found him about a month before I came to the Tower with a broken leg.” I respond, “I helped him heal and he stayed.” I add and she nods. “Well I suppose you can keep him in the gardens, Fleece, I won’t tell anyone.” she says and pets Wilbur. “Thanks Miou.” I respond and Wilbur takes off at my erging some time later and stays in a plum tree nearby. 

…

Five months into my stay at the Tower Siuan and I are skipping through the city, it’s the first free day we’ve had. “What do you want to do?” she asks and I shrug. “I want to get a few oils for my hair, but other than that I don’t really care.” I respond slowly and she looks at me. “Oils for your hair?” she asks and I nod. “It grows like crazy and it gets frizzy easily and it’s rather thick, so certain oils help keep it manageable.” I tell her and she makes a face. “I’ve never seen you with your hair down…” she says and I shrug again. “You probably won’t, it’s easier to keep it up, like I said it grows like crazy, I actually cut it right under my breasts before coming to the Tower but it’s to the middle of my back again already. I’ll probably have to ask Merean if I can cut it by the time the Feast of Lights rolls around.” I tell her and shrug. “Okay.” she says and we walk in silence for a while. “You know, I actually love to wear it down… But I always get teased for it back home so I don’t.” I mumble and she looks at me and makes a noise in the back of her throat but says nothing.

…

When we get back, Merean is waiting for us. “Moiriane, I need you to come with me.” she says gently and I frown. “You’re not in trouble.” she says and I follow her into her office. “Who is it?” I ask simply and she sighs. “Your father.” she tells me, and it’s as if ice water is tossed over my head, I sit down slowly and cover my mouth, looking anywhere but at Merean. “Dear, I am sorry, I am aware the two of you were very close?” she asks more than states and I nod. “Very.” I manage to say, my voice cracking. She sits next to me and rubs my back gently. I turn into her arms and sob for a while as she holds me. My conscience tells me to not trust her, she’s Black Ajah. I remember that, even if the memories from the other turning are getting foggy and muddy, but I can’t help it, she’s just so kind. “Shh, child, shh.” she whispers quietly. After a while I separate from her and she offers me a handkerchief. “Can I go to the funeral?” I ask and she smiles. “Of course you can, arrangements have already been made, all you need to do is say goodbye to your friends.” she tells me and I nod, compose myself, and leave to attend my father’s funeral.

…

After the funeral I am standing by the window in my father’s study when I hear someone come in. “Raine?” my sister asks tentatively and comes up behind me, wrapping her arms around me in a backwards hug. “I have something for you.” she says softly and places a ring into my palm. “Dad’s wedding band?” I ask and she nods. “I know you have mother’s as well, so I thought you might like to have his as well.” she whispers and a broken sob leaves my throat and I break down all over again.

…

“NO! You passed!” Siuan shrieks as Alanna comes in after her test and I hit her. “Siuan that isn’t nice!” I scold her before smiling at Alanna. “Congrats Miou.” I tell her and she smiles. “Thanks Fleece.” she responds and sits down next to me. “Light it was horrible though…” she whispers and puts her head in her hands. “Never in my life have I wanted to fail more than I did during that test.” she says softly and I frown. “Hey, don’t do that Miou, whatever you saw, it wasn’t real, it was all in your head.” I whisper softly and rub her back. Before in the other turning I had only ever seen Alanna cry once after she lost her warder. Siuan sighs, “This is stupid, you passed, you shouldn’t be in here anymore, you’re an Accepted.” Siuan eclaims, clearly not understanding. “Then get out, Siuan.” I tell her and she gapes at me before stomping off. After she leaves I pull Alanna fully onto my bed and hold her while she cries. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here Alanna.” I tell her and she nods. We don’t talk about it that night, but she does cry some more, and spends the night in my room. The next morning Siuan apologizes and Alanna forgives her. 

…

“I heard this rumor that you can sing.” Myrelle says rather suddenly as we have ‘tea’ in a secluded alcove some time into our third year as novices. I stop stroking Wilbur for a moment and raise an eyebrow at her. “Who said that?” I ask and she grins. “Well you see, I overheard a Grey say that Alela Sedai said you could. I don’t believe them. Five coppers says you can’t and you’ve pulled to wool over Alela’s eyes.” she says and Siuan gasps. “Blood and bloody ashes! I’ll take that bet!” she exclaims and Alanna sighs before agreeing as well and I sigh. “ The winner takes it all. The loser's standing small.” I gesture a little with my hands and Siuan chokes on her tea, everyone catching my double meaning. “Beside the victory. That's her destiny.” I sing softly, my voice carrying farther than I intended. And I am aware that I started in the middle of the song but I don’t really care. “I was in your arms. Thinking I belonged there.” I waggle my eyebrow at Siuan and Myrelle is cursing my name while Alanna is holding her side, she is laughing so hard. “I figured it made sense. Building me a fence” I continue without thinking even as Siuan motions for me to stop. “Building me a home. Thinking I'd be strong there. But I was a fool. Playing by the rules.” I continue, singing more to Siuan as Wilbur hoots and bobbles his head. “The gods may throw a dice. Their minds as cold as ice. And someone way down here. Loses someone dear.” 

I continue and now Myrelle is gaping at me while Siuan still motions for me to stop singing, I make a rude hand gesture at her as if saying you lot asked for this. “The winner takes it all. The loser has to fall. It's simple and it's plain. Why should I complain.” I’m getting into it now and Alanna starts laughing anew. “Tell me does she kiss. Like I used to kiss you. Does it feel the same. When she calls your name.” I give Siuan a pointed look, and she blushes scarlet while Myrelle loses it. “Somewhere deep inside. You must know I miss you. But what can I say. Rules must be obeyed” now Siuan has given up gesturing and is giggling as well. 

“The judges will decide. The likes of me abide. Spectators of the show. Always staying low.. The game is on again. A lover or a friend. A big thing or a small. The winner takes it all” I pause, still knowing that my voice isn’t the best and grin at them even as they’re all laughing. “I don't wanna talk. If it makes you feel sad. And I understand. You've come to shake my hand. I apologize. If it makes you feel bad. Seeing me so tense. No self-confidence. But you see.” I take a breath before continuing, “The winner takes it all. The winner takes it all. The game is on aga-” I had turned around, planning on spinning and I see them, the reason why Siuan had been gesturing, the Amyrlin Seat, Keeper of the Chronicles, and Mistress of Novices had been behind me. Stuttering I quickly curtsy and the Amyrlin Seat, Tamra Ospenya, smiles as her Keeper giggles softly. I turn on my heel and run even as Meran Sedai calls my name.

…

I’m panicking, I’m aware of that, but I can’t seem to open my door even as Siuan, Myrelle, and Alanna all knock and plead to be let in. I skip dinner, knowing that the entire Tower will know by now, and I do not want to deal with that. One of them must’ve gone to Merean because shortly after curfew she comes into my room without knocking. I do not bother to get up from my spot on the floor. “Child?” she asks tentatively, using the one power to re light several candles, and the fire in my room. “You’re friends say you skipped dinner. They covered your chores for you as well.” she continues, sitting down on my bed. “I’ll make sure to cover some of theirs for them later.” I respond hoarsely, and it dawns on me that I’ve been crying. “That isn’t the point, Moiraine.” she says gently. “So I’m going to be punished.” I respond dully and she sighs. “Although I suppose it won’t matter, once my Uncle hears about this he’ll find a way to have me killed. I’ve embarrassed the family in front of the most powerful person in the known world.” I continue and she clicks her tongue. “Child don’t talk like that!” she says, scolding me. 

“Why? It’s true, ask any of the Cairhien Aes Sedai.” I mumble and she sighs. “Your mother died when you were young, didn’t she?” she asks and I frown. “Yes, I was in the room, Moressin thought it was funny.” I tell her and she makes a small noise. “She went into labor early and they wouldn’t tell my father or get a midwife. Stillborn and she died shortly after, toxemia of pregnancy.” I continue. “She suffocated because of the seizures. My dad found us a day later. I was curled into her side sobbing, I still have nightmares.” I continue and wipe at my eyes angrily. “So you never had a mother that encouraged you to follow your heart?” she asks and I nod my head yes. “If you want to sing, then do it, don’t be embarrassed to enjoy yourself. We all have something, if singing is yours then embrace it.” she says and then channels again before leaving. Getting up I notice she brought me some bread and butter to eat, she had channeled the bread hot.

End Notes: To be clear, Moiraine sounds like Meryl Streep when singing, for reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gs5U2kmHl2E Also Miou is Cat in the old tongue. Also yes, Alanna and Moiraine gave each other nicknames.

[bestiesenpai]

ashnikko demidevil inspired blurbs

I just took lines from ashnikkos demidevil album and made little blurbs with whatever gave me inspo :) femme reader sometimes gender neutral in some spots, everyone is 18+

Content warnings: yandere-ness, stalking, mentions of heat(but not a/b/o), dubcon, master title(?), light angst? But it’s well deserved, blood

I don’t need a man I need a puppy, allergic to you every time you touch me -

Babysitting your friend's new puppy hybrid wasn’t a task you’d originally wanted. She had gotten him fairly recently, only to jet away to an impromptu vacation, leaving you the sole caretaker of the very large hybrid.

The only problem was you were allergic to dogs. Nothing terrible, but if he stayed around you too long, you’d start to get hives. And he understood that, politely keeping his distance as he roamed around your home.

“Getou, I’m home!” You announced after a long day of work, throwing open the front door only to be assaulted by a harsh musk in the air.

“Master!” Within moments of you kicking the door closed you were pounced on by the giant puppy that had been staying with you for a while. Your back hit the door hard but that wasn’t what you were focused on.

“G-Getou! What’re you doing?!” Your face was aflame not only from embarrassment but from the strong waves of heat rolling off his body. Getou had slid to his knees on the floor and shamelessly shoved his face into the crotch of your pants, his nose bumping right at your slit through your clothes.

“Master please...help…” He whined pitifully, rutting his hips against your leg. It was almost comical, the way he was hunched over you trying desperately to get stimulation to his leaking cock dangling between his legs.

Muddling through the murky memories of what your friend had told you about Getou, it took a few minutes to remember that she had mentioned something about him possibly going into heat.

“Are you…” It only took a glance down at his sweaty body covered only in a t-shirt to affirm that he was indeed in heat. He whined again, nearly sobbing as the harsh material of your bottoms rubbed against his sensitive cock. “What do I need to do?” The question made Getou’s head fly up, and the usual smirk on his face was gone, replaced with glassy eyes and quivering lips.

“I-I know you don’t like dogs but- but could you please just touch me?” Rubbing his face against your hip, Getou looked at you again. His hair and the fur on his ears was frizzy no doubt from sweat and his lips looked like he’d been biting them.

“Scoot back, puppy.” Placing a hand on his forehead, you gently pushed him back. The heat on Getou’s face was scalding, washing over him in a bright blush. Begrudgingly letting you go, Getou sat back on his knees, shoulders hunched but still managing to take up a good amount of space.

“Please help.” Balling up the edges of his shirt, Getou tucked the fabric under his chin and presented himself to you. His skin had a pale red flush, chest heaving and abs tight from trying to contain himself. Your eyes were drawn to his cock, leaking a generous amount of precum down the thick shaft.

“Puppy.” You said the word softly, and a warmth settled between your legs at seeing him look at you from under his lashes. The intense pheromones in the air were triggering your allergies and there was only one surefire way of getting rid of them.

“Master!” Getou choked out as another gush of precum rolled down his cock and his tail thumped against the ground as he writhed a little in agony. “Hurry, please!”

“Let’s go to the bedroom, puppy, it’ll be easier to help you there.” You’d thought about taking him to the couch, but the bed would be more comfortable in the long run.

And you didn’t need to utter the phrase twice. Getou leaped from the ground, his long tail swishing excitedly as he grabbed your wrist and ran to the bedroom. Pushing you onto the bed, he stripped himself in an instant.

“I-I’ll try not to be too rough, master.” He mumbled, climbing over you just as you’d started shrugging off your jacket. Nearly crushed by his entire body weight, Getou made sure to slide his cock right against your clothed cunt, rutting hard against you as soon as he could. “Unless you want it like that.”

I don’t need a man I need a rabbit, I need a new toy just to cleanse my palate -

Get a bunny hybrid, they said. It’ll be fun, they insisted. Bunnies are so cute and nice, they repeated over and over. Well yours surely wasn’t.

“Gojo! Get over here!” You were at your boiling point. All day Gojo had been causing mischief, leaving food out, popping out from behind corners and furniture and scaring you, pulling on your hair and clothes, asking never ending questions.

“Yes?” The lanky bunny hybrid with long white ears waltzed into the kitchen, not wearing his trademark dark glasses and leaving his bright blue eyes on display.

“What the fuck is this?” Glaring harshly at him, you pointed to the floury mess smeared on the kitchen counters and wall. It looked like he’d attempted to make some kind of dough but had given up halfway.

“Wasn’t me.” Gojo shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Then who could it be, because it wasn’t me and we’re the only ones here.” Crossing your arms tightly over your chest, you glowered at his careless expression and slouched body. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here presented with the mess he’d undoubtedly made.

“Dunno.” He shrugged again, scratching behind his ear and avoiding eye contact with you.

“Gojo, clean it up.” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you took a deep breath.

“I didn’t do it!” Stamping his feet, Gojo shook his head and his ears flopped side to side.

“I’m not playing these games anymore! Just do what I ask for once!” It was a constant back and forth with the two of you, and while you had plenty of sweet moments to outweigh the bad, sometimes it wasn’t enough.

“(Y/N), c’mon!” Gojo whined and threw his head back. Staring at each other for a few minutes, your blood pressure only rose the longer he remained immobile.

“One.” You drew the word out, and Gojo’s head snapped to attention. Waiting a breath, he didn’t move any further.

“Two.” Saying it even slower this time, you could just barely see the twitch of his little puffball tail.

“Th-”

“Alright, I’ll clean it up!” Shooting over to the counter, Gojo huffed and puffed. “Even though it totally wasn’t me.”

“Whatever, the kitchen better be sparkling before I go to sleep.” Leaving the mess behind, you avoided Gojo for the rest of the day and didn’t see him as you got ready for bed. Checking the kitchen one last time, it was indeed back in pristine condition.

Going to sleep without saying goodnight to the pouty bunny you’d seen sulking in his room, you went to sleep alone. More often than not Gojo would sleep in bed with you, but whenever the two of you were snippy with each other he would sleep alone.

A hot, wet tongue between your legs roused you from sleep. You were absolutely sweating beneath the blankets that were drawn up to your chin and there was a Gojo sized lump underneath them.

“G-gojo…” Breathing deeply to try and push the sleepy fog from your mind, his name ended in a high whine as his tongue flicked against your clit. Wrapping his lips around it, Gojo sucked on the bud, keeping your legs spread out across his shoulders.

He got you to cum fairly quickly, having aroused you enough in sleep that when you awoke you were already on the brink. Squeezing his head between your thighs as you came on his tongue, you shuddered at the deep groan he let out.

“Ya know (Y/N),” He started, voice muffled by the blankets before he threw them off and sat up, “I’ve been thinkin’.” Settling between your legs, Gojo kept your ankles on his shoulders as he leaned over.

“Ab-about what?” Your mind was dizzy with pleasure, eyes only just able to focus on Gojo’s face above you. Even though this was the first time you two were doing something like this it still felt natural. Something you’d have to talk about in the morning, but natural nonetheless.

“You’re always so fucking snippy all the time-”

“Hey!”

“I wasn’t finished! You’re snippy all the time and you always get on my back for the stupidest shit.” He giggled at the glare you gave him, a light blush spreading across his cheeks. “But I’ve found the perfect solution to that!”

There wasn’t a chance to question him on what he meant. Gojo lined up his cock and pushed into your cunt, easily sliding in and bottoming out in one go. You hadn’t gotten a chance to look at it properly, but you knew it was easily the biggest you’d ever had.

“This is your solution?” You half panted, wrapping your arms around Gojo’s shoulders and whimpering as the tip of his cock hit your cervix.

“Yeah.” He was breathless as well, biting his lip as he slowly pulled out and lightly slapped his hips against yours. “I figure what better way to change your attitude than to fuck it out of you.” Grabbing onto your ankles, Gojo leaned nearly chest to chest with you.

His forehead brushed against yours, his snowy white hair tickling you. He did a few experimental half thrusts, getting the feel for the angle he was in and making any minor adjustments.

“And luckily for you, (Y/N), I’m a rabbit.” Immediately, Gojo picked up the pace of his hips, jackhammering into you at an insane speed and quite possibly bruising your hips in the process.

“Gojo!” Your voice caught in your throat at the sudden change, your body being folded in half and crushed into the mattress.

Gojo smirked at your shocked expression, dropping one hand to rub your clit. You let out a sharp cry, jolts of pleasure shooting up your spine. Your walls clamped down on him in an instant, making the drag of his cock just a fraction slower.

“I can go all night if I have to.”

Make your man call me daddy -

Was Itadori a little nervous? That went without saying, yes, he was very nervous. This was the first time he’d worn lingerie in public, hidden under his clothes but with the possibility of someone seeing if he bent over the wrong way.

He kept tugging down his hoodie and pulling up his pants, making sure no one saw the lacy thong he’d put on. He had on a bra as well, a lacy little number that was truly just a few tiny pieces of fabric sewn together.

Not to mention the prostate massager currently buried snugly in his ass, vibrating at random with varying intensities. Itadori almost regretted purchasing it as another powerful vibration went through him and nearly made him fall over in the street. But he didn’t want to let you down, so he endured the torture.

“I’m back.” Practically crawling through the threshold of the door, Itadori was nearly in tears at being back in the safety of your shared apartment. He had barely managed to complete all the tasks you’d given him, the little white plastic bag in his fingers crumpled to death with how strong his grip was.

“In here.” You called out from the bedroom and Itadori followed the sound until he got to you. Lounging at the foot of the bed, you looked nearly innocent with your legs crossed and foot swinging daintily.

Itadori didn’t speak as he entered the room, hovering by the doorway for a moment before fully entering and standing in front of you, head down and looking at your sock clad feet.

“How was it, baby?” Your question made him flinch and a hot burning washed over his face.

“I- it was- something.” He sighed, glancing up to see your quizzical expression for a fleeting moment.

“Did you keep it on like I told you to?”

“Of course!” Itadori nodded immediately, already grasping the hem of his hoodie and pulling it off to reveal the bra underneath, the fabric stretched tight against the barrel of his chest.

“Look at your nipples, they’re so cute.” You cooed, reaching up to press your finger onto one. It was perfectly perky, pebbled from the stimulation of rubbing against lace. Itadori shivered and leaned into your touch, biting his lip to stem any too loud moans.

Taking your hand away, your eyes flicked down to his pants and he quickly removed those as well.

“Oh baby, you shoulda told me you came! You made such a big mess!” It wasn’t surprising in the slightest to see the absolute mess of sticky cum smeared across Itadori’s cock, the thong he had on and his thighs.

“Sorry, I just didn’t want the fun to end.” He pouted, fully kicking off his pants and tossing them to the side with his hoodie.

“I bet the toy felt real nice, huh?” Sparing him a lecture, you reached out and swiped your finger through the cum coating the tip of Itadoris cock. He jolted at the contact, letting out a high whine and pressing his thighs together.

“Y-yeah, it did.” He managed to answer, somehow staying steady on his feet through the near overstimulation he was in. Gathering a bit of cum on your fingers, you presented it to him and Itadori obediently bent down, taking them in his mouth and sucking them clean.

“Good boy.” You grinned, running your free hand through his hair and letting him nuzzle into you. “Go pick out which toy you want next, you deserve a reward.” Freeing your fingers, Itadori bolted to the dresser drawer where you kept the toys.

“I choose this one.” In his hands was his favorite toy, a strap-on you’d bought together at a local sex shop.

“Alright, lay on the bed.” Taking the toy from him, you watched him lay down just like you’d taught him: face down in the pillows with his ass presented high in the air. Running a hand over his ass, you smiled down at him. “You’re being such a good boy today, baby.”

“Thank you.” Itadori replied, mouth muffled by the pillows as he tried to make eye contact with you. Quirking your head to the side, you gave him a silent look and he flushed, ears tinging a deep rouge. Licking his lips, Itadori looked away for a moment before shuffling a bit to make better eye contact with you. “Thank you, daddy.”

You don’t ever cross my mind, what’s a sheep to a tiger? -

It was laughable that he thought he was being so secretive, like you couldn’t tell you were being stalked when all you could feel were his eyes watching you at all times.

You’d already changed the locks after you caught him following you home.

Your curtains were always drawn closed, but that didn’t stop him from lurking outside, his shadow a constant presence outside your bedroom and bathroom windows.

You couldn’t even count the amount of unknown phone numbers you’d had to block in the past month alone along with deleting voicemails that only had slightly shaky breathing on the other side.

As far as stalkers went, Okkotsu Yuta wasn’t that great. You’d only briefly met him once at a meeting with other sorcerers and he had appeared weak and spineless before you, barely able to make eye contact despite his vast power.

“Fuck, you again?” You groan, seeing Yuta waiting by your door as you waltzed back from a run to the convenience store.

“H-hello.” His voice is just as meek as ever. You’ve seen him be confident and assured before when he didn’t know you were in the room, but as soon as he saw you it was like he became a totally different person and lost even the will to speak.

“Get a fucking job.” Not in the mood to entertain him, you slid closer to your front door. You weren’t scared about possibly having to get physical with him, you could surely hold your own against a grown man who actively stepped back as you got closer.

Worrying his lip and wringing his hands together, Yutas eyes darted everywhere, from the small plastic bag in your hand to your outfit and finally settling atop your head. His breathing was loud and unsteady and there was a light blush coating his cheeks.

“Are you just going to keep standing there like a loser?” Glaring at him, you sneered as his blush got deeper and there was a subtle squeeze in his thighs. “What do you even want? Gonna try to give me more flowers?”

“No.” Yuta answered immediately, the bitter memory of you stomping on the bouquet he bought you fresh in his mind.

“Then what? What does a little sheep like you want?” Crossing your arms, you tapped your foot impatiently.

“I-I just-” Blinking rapidly, there were a million thoughts going through Yutas head. He couldn’t find the words and his mouth was running dry. He nearly collapsed seeing you sigh and shake your head, about to fish out your keys and walk right past him. “W-wait!”

“What?”

“Do you- I just have to know, (Y/N), do you ever think about me like how I think about you?” Yuta looked so hopeful it was morphing into sick desperation in his features. His brows were knitted together so tightly that you knew there’d be lingering wrinkles there.

“Okkotsu.” Saying his name firmly and squaring your shoulders, you stared right into his eyes with a fierce look on your face. This was the first time you were ever making eye contact and to say it made you sick to your stomach was an understatement.

“Yes?” He whispered, licking his lips nervously.

“I have never thought about you in that way.” His smile fell as you spoke, and you could see his heart break behind his eyes. “In fact, any time I think of you I get sick. You disgust me.”

“Darling-”

“Shut the fuck up, don’t call me that.” You snapped, pushing him back as he tried to reach out and touch you. “Get the hell away from me and leave me alone, you’re pathetic and gross.”

“I love you! I love you so much, please!” Falling to his knees, Yuta reached his hands out to you, hoping you’d take them and soothe his soul from the pain you’d just inflicted.

“I’d rather be swallowed by a curse than have you as a lover.” The scornful look you sent Yuta made him physically wither away, flinching at the red hot anger brewing just beneath the surface. “Besides, I’m pretty sure people in love don’t stalk each other.”

“Darling...please…” There were tears dripping down his face that just made him look worse. Scoffing one last time at him, you shoved your key into the lock and swung open your front door.

“Okkotsu, if I ever see you in this neighborhood again, I’ll kill you myself. Rika be damned.” With those parting words, you slammed the door closed and locked it swiftly, immediately heading to the cabinet where you kept your alcohol. You surely needed a drink or three after dealing with the headache that was Okkotsu Yuta.

Just as you took the first sip, a ding sounded on your phone, an indication of a text.

“Oh brother.” Rolling your eyes, you already knew who it was from.

(Unknown number): I’ll never give up on you, I’ll love you until the very end

Blocked, deleted. Time for another drink.

I’m crazy but you like that -

Breaking up with your boyfriend was the right thing to do. Breaking up with your boyfriend was the right thing to do. Breaking up with your boyfriend was the right thing to do.

But why did it feel like the worst decision you’d ever made?

He was brash, controlling over every part of your life, demanding your undivided attention at all times. He claimed he only wanted what was best for you, but the final straw in your relationship came when you caught him installing a hidden camera in your bedroom. He was far too casual when he said the last one had broken.

So you had no choice but to break it off. Sukuna had taken it well at the time, calmly and silently grabbing the things he had over at your place and leaving with only a curt goodbye. And since then, you hadn’t seen him.

Emphasis being on seen.

His presence was still very much felt in your life. There was mail addressed to him showing up at your place. You’d get random unknown numbers calling you throughout the week, sometimes with voices you didn’t recognize trying to ask you questions and other times it was silent on the other line until whoever called hung up.

But all the strange occurrences were beginning to add up and it was starting to feel like Sukuna had never left in the first place. All the times you came home to a tidy front entryway when you knew you’d left in shambles before heading to work. The way your shower products seemed to diminish quicker even though you hadn’t changed your routine. And sometimes, you woke up in the middle of the night to a shadow just outside your window, darting away just before you could properly get up.

Changing the locks on your front door and adding locks on all the windows you could had given you much needed peace of mind. The strange things inside your house had stopped. There wasn’t anything you needed to purposefully ignore now. You could sit up a little straighter, breathe a little easier.

Waking up in the middle of the night to go pee, your mind was far away from reality. Thoughts of Sukuna were the last things on your mind, clouded with sleep and just ready to melt under the covers again.

Returning to your bedroom, however, you noticed a figure sitting on the bed that wasn’t there before. It didn’t take a genius to figure out it was Sukuna. Floundering back against the wall, a scream caught in your throat.

“The bed’s getting cold, angel. Come lie back down.” Sukuna said, a deranged smile on his face. His eyes were wide, drinking in your shaking form wildly.

“W-what’re you doing here?” You whispered, clutching the doorframe as you stumbled to it.

“I had to see my baby, I’ve been missing you.” Breathing hard through his nose, Sukuna patted the bed. “Come here, lemme look at you. It’s been a while since we’ve been face to face.”

“N...no. No!” Shaking your head, your own pupils were blown wide in fear. You watched every miniscule movement Sukuna made, from his breathing to how his fingers twitched. “Get out of here before I call the cops!”

“Aw, call the cops? But, how will you do that? Your phone is broken.”

“What?” Following Sukunas pointing finger, you gasped when you saw your phone smashed to bits on the floor by his feet.

“Now c’mere.” Patting the bed a little harder, Sukuna’s smile wavered. “You know I don’t like asking twice.”

“Sukuna please- please just leave.” There were hot tears burning your lash line, begging to be blinked away, but you refused to close your eyes. The smile on Sukuna’s face fell and rose again rapidly as whatever thoughts he had swirled in his head.

“(Y/N), I don’t think you understand.” Laughing under his breath, Sukuna stood up and stalked over to you.

“Don’t touch me!” You finally screamed but it was too late to try and fight him off. Sukuna grabbed your upper arm tightly and dragged you away from the door and to the bed. “Let me go, Sukuna! You’re crazy!”

“Crazy? Ha!” He barked, flopping back onto the bed and forcing you to straddle his lap. Slapping a hand onto your ass, Sukuna grabbed your jaw and tilted your face toward him. “If being in love with you makes me crazy, then so be it.” Staring at your face, Sukuna had a softer smile now. It was still unsettling, especially close up, and the way his eyes barely blinked had you on edge. “But don’t pretend you don’t like it at least a little bit.”

Wanna see me switch, get psycho like they say I am-

Your new boyfriend Nanami said he was just a salaryman, and why wouldn’t you believe him? He wore freshly pressed business suits everyday, sometimes carried around a briefcase, had the usual 9 to 5 schedule and always grumbled if he ever had to work overtime. Occasionally he met you for lunch and there he’d demand to talk about anything other than the work he did.

He never gave you the impression that he was anything but that, anything other than what he said he was. Whenever the two of you went out on dates, he was either getting off work or wore long sleeves.

This was the first time you were going to go over to his place for a date. Your relationship was starting to progress more romantically and while he’d seen the outside of your home after dropping you off from a date, this was the first time either of you would be in such a closed intimate setting.

His apartment was in a much more luxurious building than you’d first imagined. There was a doorman that had let you in, someone waiting at the front desk and even the elevator was luxurious with rich dark wood.

“Nanami, I’m here!” You called as you approached the door. Raising your fist to knock, you were surprised to see it cracked open, and there were loud noises just inside. Taking a moment to see if anyone had noticed your announcement, you took a chance and pushed open the door.

The entryway was beautifully decorated with Nanami’s shoes lined up neatly by the door. Just looking at the hallway, you could tell he had hired someone to decorate for him.

“Nanami?” You called again, hovering by the door. Whatever sound was in the other room paused for a moment, only to resume again in a more fervent way. “H-hello?” Sneaking down the hall, you came to the entryway to the lounge room and nearly collapsed.

The bloody, unconscious body was what you noticed first, followed by the blood stains speckled about the hardwood floor and reaching the walls. You saw Nanami second, standing over the body in what was once a plain white t-shirt now stained crimson. Third were the tattoos crawling up his arms, rich blacks and reds embedded into his flesh.

“You’re here early. How’d you get in?” Nanami asked in his usual monotone voice, only slightly breathless as he looked you over. He seemed unfazed by your sudden appearance, happy even, a small smile ticking up on the side of his mouth.

“The- the door was open.” You didn’t know where to look. You couldn’t possibly look Nanami in the eye, not with the way he looked so calm while standing over a body you were pretty sure was going cold. There was dark blood on his hands, nearly mixing in with his tattoos.

“Silly me, must not have pushed it closed all the way.” Chuckling to himself, Nanami straightened up and stepped over the body, taking a few steps over to you only to stop when he saw you scurry back. “(Y/N), don’t act like that.” He sighed like he was talking to a child.

“Tell me what’s going on.” You said, voice shaking more than you would have liked.

“Just doing a bit of overtime, that’s it.” Nanami shrugged indifferently, taking another step toward you.

“I thought you said you were a salaryman. What kind of overtime is this?” As he took more steps toward you, you stepped back until you hit the wall.

“I am a salaryman.”

“For the yakuza or something?!” It was a shot in the dark, really. You had no reason to believe he was in a gang other than the familiar tattoos that you’d seen on the news and the blood everywhere.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” He confirmed it with a straight face and you could tell he wasn’t lying. Nanami wasn’t one to lie or pull punches. Lifting up his hand, Nanami almost cupped your cheek but stopped short when he remembered the blood on his hands. “Let me go clean up, and we can talk about this more.”

As soon as he turned around, you fumbled to get your phone out of your pocket. There was no way you would be staying in this place any longer with him. Not only were you pretty sure he just killed someone, you had no idea what he could do to you.

“You wouldn’t be trying to call anyone, would you?” Nanami asked, turning on his heels by the body. Dropping your phone to the ground as soon as you were caught, you cursed under your breath as he faced you squarely.

“I like you a lot, (Y/N). Don’t mess this up. I’d hate to show you how deranged I can truly be.” The ghost of a smile graced his face and Nanami walked back over to you and grabbed your phone, immediately coating it in sticky blood. “Go wait in the den down the hall, I’ll be by in a moment.”

Slowly dragging your feet to the room in question, you waiting just inside for Nanami to arrive. The den was cozy, a plush warm toned loveseat facing a stone fireplace and a TV. This room, like the others, was undoubtedly decorated by a professional.

“Sorry to make you wait.” Nanami’s voice made you jump as he entered, walking past you and into the room. Sitting down on the loveseat in a fresh shirt and pants and clean skin, Nanami let out a pleased hum.

“Nanami…” Worrying your lip, you didn’t know what to do. You knew you should leave, but there wasn’t a chance in hell that your weak knees would make any sort of movement akin to an escape.

“Don’t be shy, (Y/N).” Spreading his legs, Nanami pat his thigh invitingly. “Come sit on my lap, a pretty little kitty like you deserves the best seat in the house.”

[syndxlla]

Part eleven of the More To Love series

Summary: You get a chance to reflect on who you are, where you are with your relationships, and what you really want in life with the help of your mother, the Queen of Corellia. You meet some new seemingly friends, who quickly prove you otherwise.

Word Count: 7.1k, NO USE OF ‘y/n’

Warnings: Non-consensual kiss, swearing, alcohol

Author’s note: i am LIVID. why tumblr only lets you have a certain amount of paragraphs in a post IDK! it’s dumb haha and the only reason i went over is because there is so much dialogue in this. BASICALLY. I am making the decision to go easy on myself. I know earlier today I said part 11 would be split into two, but i am going to just make the second half be part 12. SO. i made a new moodboard for this chapter! i hope you like it :).

i wanna say a big THANK YOU to @stinky-child for helping me edit this chapter and getting it out on time!

PART 12 WILL BE RELEASED THURSDAY, MAY 27TH AT 6pm PST, 9pm EST.

part ten

Koska escorted you back to your quarters, the castle corridors were finally starting to calm down a little bit, however, more and more special guests who would be staying in the palace over the weekend walked in and out of doors, most of them not paying any attention to you because of your drab attire. You hoped the knight made it to his meeting on time and dry. There was no way to know until tomorrow morning, however. Koska was silent as she walked behind you, her footsteps much lighter than the knight’s. Your hair was thick and frizzy from the effects of the elements, and you kept your face down out of a foreign sense of shame.

Keeping your face down can’t hide that sense of shame from everyone, however, and before you can make it to your room, you’re hearing a joyful gasp and footsteps pattering in your direction. You look up from your walk of shame to see someone very important to you, it’s not your Knight, it’s not even Soniee, no. It’s your mother, the Queen of Corellia. She’s accompanied by three Corellian guards and she’s wearing the most beautiful yellow gown you had ever seen. It was clearly a gift from Bo-Katan. You smiled brightly, relieved to see someone you love. It had only been a few weeks but it felt like an eternity. You had completely forgotten she would be coming to your engagement ball. You’ve been so preoccupied with the plans and teaching the Knight how to dance that it completely slipped your mind. Your mother had a wide smile on her face, too, and wore the traditional Corellian crown. You ran to her and embraced her fighting around the waist, something that was not appropriate for royalty in public like this but you couldn’t care less. You had been so emotionally confused over the last few weeks that there was nothing you needed more than a fulfilling hug from your parent. She hums with joy when you come into her arms, and she runs her slender fingers through your beautiful hair. You sigh of relief in her embrace.

“I had forgotten you were coming.” You admit, holding back tears of relief. She chuckles in response.

“You look a mess.” She replies and you’re the one to chuckle this time.

“I’ve had quite the day.” You smile, blushing as you remember who you spent it with. “Come, I have so much to tell you.” You pull away, holding her hands in yours and then leading her to the closest sitting room. You were finally starting to understand the layout of the Mandalorian palace, it only took two weeks. This room was the same blue as the royal color, you guide her to sit by you on the sofa, and Koska awkwardly follows. You look over to the handmaiden before standing and walking in her direction. “Lady Reeves, you are dismissed.” You nod while speaking in a regal tone, but after stating it, your voice hushes and you whisper to her, “Is he going to be alright?” You ask in reference to the Knight.

She nods once, “Even if he was late, he’s bound to duty by the Queen, he’ll be okay.” Your stomach twists.

“What does that even mean?” You ask, there is much he is not telling you.

Koska sighs, she seemed to regret saying that. “I’ll worry about him, you enjoy your time with your mother.” She nods to the Queen who was patiently awaiting your return. You smile a “thank you” and walk back to the Corellian Queen. When Koska closes the door finally, you slouch into the couch, feeling pure relief as you were alone with your kin.

“You look absolutely exhausted.” Your mother says.

“I am, life here is exhausting. There are so many rules, much more than back at home.” You awkwardly shrug.

“We miss you.”

“I miss you too, more than you know.” You were so homesick these days. “I had to spend four days learning all the rules and customs and I still take private lessons from the literal queen so I don’t embarrass her anymore.” You roll your eyes, knowing that you couldn’t express this arrogance to anyone else in the palace and taking advantage of the chance now.

“Oh, I'm sorry love, I worried that there might be a bit of a culture shock.” She takes your hand with hers, stroking the stop of it with her own cold hands.

“Is father here?” You ask, your eyes hopeful. That glimmer immediately fades when she sighs, her eyes leaving yours. “What? What’s wrong?”

“He’s not coming…”

“What? Why?”

“He’s… sick, I didn’t want to tell you but it’s your right to know. You would have eventually found out anyway.” She somberly explains.

“Is he okay?”

“Yes, we think so. But traveling and socializing in his condition was not realistic. We understand that rumors will start, but his health is necessary before an impending war.” She frowns, and you try not to let it upset you too much. “Enough of that, tell me about this place.” Her tone immediately flips.

You smile, “It’s so hot, much hotter than Corellia. I mean the heat is exhausting and the dresses are heavy and the tea parties are always outside and I always feel overheated.” You complain.

“Do you at least like the prince?” She asks. “Is he cute?”

Now you must choose if you’re going to lie, like you have for the last fortnight, or be truthful with the only person you feel that you can be. You sigh, and just look at her, defeated, hoping that would be enough to tell her.

She hums empathetically. “Oh dear.”

“Yeah…” You sigh, happy she understood and you didn’t have to make the decision of communication.

“Well, keep your head up, I didn’t really like your father all that much until we had you.” She chuckles.

“What?” You ask, your eyes showing surprise. “I had no idea…” You weren’t sure how much you liked that thought, your parents had always been an example of a couple you’d like to experience for yourself. “Why had you never told me?”

“There was no reason for you to know before now. The older you get, the more you’ll learn what you need to hear.” She explains. You supposed she was right. “And remember, it’s supposed to be a partnership—marriage that is— it’s not so bad if you work at it.”

“Well, he certainly likes being solo.” You humph. “He’s very kind, and it’s clear he cares for his kingdom but-“ You knew you weren’t being completely truthful with her.

“But what?”

You debated your next words. You wanted to tell her, more than anything you wanted your mother to know what was really going on, but you knew you couldn’t. You knew she wouldn’t understand. This marriage is a diplomatic solution to an oncoming war of her home kingdom. She wouldn’t understand the strife. “Nothing.” You feel untruthful to yourself, but you can’t do anything about it. “I just feel like I will be unhappy in our marriage.”

“Marriage isn’t supposed to make you happy.”

You hated that, it wasn’t the first time she had said it to you, either. When an arranged marriage was first brought up, she said it then for the first time. The other time she said it to you was about three weeks ago, just before you were going to leave Corellia and come to this ornate prison. It was your last attempt to try and get out of it, but she uttered those words and you had to live with it.

This time, you pulled your hand away from hers. “But what about love? I thought you loved my father!?”

“I do love him, but that didn’t happen for a long time, like I said, not until you were born.”

“So then what’s the reason for all this? For sending me here for a big ball and a fancy wedding if I am not supposed to love the man I’m sharing these parties with? How am I to enjoy marriage before children then?” You stand up on these words out of frustration. You hated feeling like your only purpose in this world is to bear children, to produce an heir.

“Love between royals is not a natural thing, it can’t just happen between any two people. There must be that connection there and it often isn’t developed for a while.” She chuckles. “What? Did you think you were going to live inside one of those fairytales your wet nurse used to tell you before you went to sleep?” She asks, looking up at you, surprised.

“What do you mean ‘between royals’?”

“We must do what’s best for our people, it’s selfish to marry for love when you are royalty.”

You feel defeated.

“No… No, there's so much more to love. Love is not selfish, in fact, I believe that loving someone with our hesitation and unconditionally is the most selfless act one could ever do.” Your voice raises just a bit. You meant every word you said.

“If you feel this way about love, then surely you must love the Prince. What’s the problem then? We’ve been preparing you for this reality for years, it’s not a new concept that you would not love immediately, I can only imagine you would feel so emotionally because you have those feelings for someone.”

Did you?

You consider what she was saying, your eyes trailing to the side as you thought. You supposed she was right, there would be no reason for you to feel so passionately about it if you hadn’t experienced it for yourself.

But you weren’t having that experience with Korkie, the hell you weren’t.

Did you love the Knight? You don’t know his name, you don’t know his face, you don’t know anything about him and yet you are starting to think that infatuation has grown into adoration. Your legs feel weak, and you have to slowly lower yourself onto the couch again, feeling woozy from the realization. How did you let it get so far? Your confused face turns to look at your mother’s, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly open.

“I sense you realized something you didn’t already know.”

You slowly nod your head. Unsure of how to react, you fiddle with your fingers, trying to gain your bearings again. You expect your mother to speak up but she never does.

Before the conversation continues, however, the door is pulled open and three Knights are walking in, a Butler steps in, “Her Majesty, The Queen.” He says before nodding and stepping away. Bo-Katan glides into the room, regal as ever. You and your mother stand up from where you sat, curtsying for your hostess.

“Your Majesty.” She takes your mother’s hand, both of them smiling and kissing one another on either cheek. “I trust your travels were comfortable?”

“Yes, your coachmen were very hospitable.” Your mother nods.

Korkie then enters the rooms with another young Prince who you hadn't met before. He was blonde, and skinny as a twig. He wore a white and gold ceremonial cloak that covered his right shoulder. You smile at Korkie out of Obligation, and he and the other prince bow to the women in the room.

“Princess!” Korkie cheers, “This is my cousin, Prince Hugo of Bespin.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” He takes your hand and kisses the top of it, his smile charming and blue eyes bright. You were flattered by the gesture, humming.

“The pleasure is mine.” You follow royal protocol. Then, another woman enters the room. She’s tall, an intricate headpiece adorns long, black hair and she has hypnotic, black eyes hidden by deep set, hooded eyes. She’s beautiful, with toned skin and red dots drawn under her lips making her stand out from everyone in the room.

“Ah, Her Majesty Queen Clarya of Naboo.” Bo-Katan introduces. The Elven Queen Ahsoka then enters the room, and everyone, even the Queens bow out of respect before the door is closed. The parlor is suddenly very full, and your intimate moment with your mother is lost entirely. You are suddenly very aware of your disheveled look, and try to run your fingers through your hair a few times.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you.” Clarya says, smiling. “I’ve heard so much about you.” Taking your hand and giving you a friendly squeeze.

“Oh… I’m afraid I haven’t heard much about you.” You apologize.

“No troubles, You are all the gossip among the other Kingdoms.” The eastern queen explains.

“Yes, It appears you are.” Korkie says, moving to stand by your side. “How wonderful that my beautiful wife-to-be is regarded so highly across the world.” He tries to take your hand but you pull it away, not necessarily meaning to, but it was a reflex that you failed to suppress after realizing you were in love with an entirely different man. He clears his throat, and the aura in the room is awkward, you aren’t sure what to do, so you just say the first thing to come out of your mouth.

“Have any of you gone to the beach? It’s lovely!” You awkwardly smile before walking over to the drink cart underneath a portrait of a Manda’lor of a past generation. You try to ignore all the people, feeling a little embarrassed that they were all seeing you dressed like this. You didn’t even think of what suspicion could be born out of that phrase.

“Oh yes, our sandy beaches are widely loved by all.” Bo-Katan takes a seat on the sofa in the place you had sat at just moments before, crossing her ankles under her gown. You shakily pour amber liquid into a crystal glass, your hand shaking as you bring it to your lips, taking a sip of the alcohol.

“Nothing like the Corellian beaches, I assume?” Your mother asks. “Our beaches are rocky and often frozen over.”

“Ah yes, but the Corellian ship fjords are lovely, what a wonderful exposure to culture you raised your daughter with!” Ahsoka sings.

“She turned out alright.” Your mother teases and everyone chuckles warmly. You turn around after drinking, and sheepishly smile. Gods you hope she meant that.

“Well, we are all very excited for the ball tomorrow.” Clarya says, “My assistant worked on a mask for hours the night before we left. It will be an extravagant sight to see everyone dressed so festively.”

“Of course, but we all know none of us can compare to the fashion and extravagance of the Naboolians.” Korkie hums. Everyone chuckles again. You nervously looked out to all of them, you had just made possibly the biggest mistake of your life and none of them paid any attention to you despite it. You had just shown Korkie your first and only sign of true disinterest the night before your engagement ball and you desperately wished you could go back in time and take his hand instead of denying the act of affection, even if you didn’t feel good about it.

“I think you will all be pleased to hear that it was the Princess who came up with the Masquerade idea.” Bo gestures to you. You smile with your teeth, trying to act normal and not like you were secretly dying inside. There is general amusement when that is said, and you can’t help but fidget with the crystal alcohol glass, wanting to leave the room and return to the comfortable embrace of the Knight on the beach.

“Beautiful and smart!” Korkie’s cousin laughs, putting emphasis on the ‘and’. “It’s not every day you find a woman like that!” Everyone laughs again, and this time you force out a faux chuckle to seem more involved in the eyes of the others. “You better hang onto her, Kork!” Korkie smiled at his cousin's words, looking over to you. You feel weak, not liking all the attention. If this much attention was making you feel this way, what would the ball with hundreds of guests tomorrow night be like?

“Yes but, I can’t seem to remember going to the beach with you?” Korkie asks, his diplomatic voice cutting through the laughter. You nervously laugh. He knew something was up. How could you be so careless?

“What? Did I say something about the beach?” You try to play it off cluelessly.

“Oh come on, we all know you aren’t that ditzy.” His cousin groans

“Your fiance asked you a question, dear.” Your mother prods.

“Yes, did you go to the beach sometime during your time here?” Bo-Katan is the one to ask this time, and your legs are starting to feel unsteady.

“It’s not a bad thing, we just want to know.” Korkie takes a step in your direction, making you feel closed in. “We all love the beach here and we are happy you have gotten the chance to enjoy it.” You sensed there was an undertone with his true meaning.

You weren’t sure if you believed him when he said this, “Is it hot in here?” You chuckle, “I think I’ll have another drink, would you like one, Korkie? You ask before turning around and pouring another glass of brandy. He can see how shaky your hand is as you try to fill the cup. He stands behind you, wrapping his arm around you and cupping your hand with his in an attempt to make the pouring more steady. The action startles you, and you flinch as a reaction, dropping the crystal glass in your hand. It was already partially full, and it falls down to the floor in slow motion, golden drink splashing out of it as glass shatters on impact, making a loud, crashing sound that sends shards out across the floor and leaves a puddle of alcohol to soak into the bottom hem of Koska’s sister’s dress. The women of the room gasp from shock, and Hugo walks quickly over to see the mess. You look down at the glass in shock of what you just did, your heart sinking and stomach churning. Lady Tano is the next one to walk over to you, taking you by the shoulders and guiding you to one of the arm chairs, helping you sit down. The room was deathly silent now, you could hear your pulse ringing through your ears. Ahsoka crouches before you, ruling your hand with hers and trying to comfort you from the unexpected shock. Korkies hands are balled into fists. Was he angry with you?

“No worries.” Hugo laughs, trying to be an entertainer, “Butler!” The Butler opens the door.

“Is everything alright?” He asks after bowing.

“Yes, we just made a little mess, would you be so kind as to clean it up?” Hugo walks Korkie, who seems to be just as shocked and embarrassed as you, over to another armchair. The butler snaps and then whistles and three young maids come in, each one getting on their hands and knees to pick up the pieces of glass.

“Princess?” Your mother says, “Do you have something you would like to say to the Manda’lor?” She awkwardly asks, clearly trying to make good from the situation, side-eying Bo.

Your pale face turns to look at Bo, who had that same disappointed frown that you always see on her.

“My deepest apologies, your Majesty.” You clear your throat before painfully looking over to where Korkie sat, his hand resting in his palm and expression down turned.

“Well!” Hugo takes the center of the room. “No use in sitting here in silence, mistakes happen! Right Auntie?” He says to Bo.

“Of course.” She smiles, physically accepting your apology with a reassuring nod.

“Lovely, would anyone like some music?” He asks.

“That would be lovely, Hugo.” Lady Tano says in her ethereal voice. He smiles and walks over to the baby grand piano in the corner of the room, the same baby grand that you played at for your Knight a few weeks ago.

“The Princess plays!” Your mother says, trying to alleviate any tension.

“She does?” Hugo makes direct eye contact with you. “Would you like to play a duet with me?”

“Hugo, she just-“ Ahsoka begins but is interrupted by your mother.

“Oh won’t you play for us Dear?” She asks, smiling.

“Please! I have wanted to hear you play since I was told you could.” Bo-Katan asks. It would be rude to decline a request from the Queen and the Host of the night.

You nod and stand up, that could be just the thing you need to feel better. You walk over to the piano, stopping just before Hugo.

“Bass or Soprano?” He asks, muttering so quietly that only you can hear it.

“Soprano.” You say. He pulls the bench out and sits first since he would be playing the lower part. You then sit next to him, your hands still slightly shaking.

“Do you know the ‘Dathomirian Waltz’?” He asks. You nod. “Lovely, key of D minor then, I’ll follow you.” He pulls his hands up to the keys, and you follow, taking two deep breaths, the first to calm your shaking hands, the second to conduct both of you in at the same time. Together you play a set of intricate chords, Hugo emphasizing on the bass notes, playing a complex scale that brought his left hand over his right several times. You carry the melody, playing just slightly louder than him and allowing yourself to fall into the trance of performing. Your hands finally quit shaking after a few phrases of the music, allowing it to soothe your nerves. Music has always done that for you. All of the nobles in the room smile, the Naboolian Queen sighing at the beauty of the complicated piece. You can’t keep the smile from pulling on your lips. Korkie’s cousin was very talented, much better than you. His hand brushed against yours several times and you couldn’t help yourself from thinking about the Knight when Hugo touches you.

This was something you would never get with him. You would never get to share a memorable moment with others, never get to rub hands against each other in front of three Queens, never get to look one another in the eye without shame or secrecy. The thoughts start to overcome your consciousness, causing you to play a sour note. No one seemed to notice, but you were more aware of it than you should have been.

A beautiful piece, carefully composed and rehearsed, performed with the intent to dazzle, the intent to impress. However there will always be the sour note, an incorrect chord that the audience might not hear but those giving the show will dwell on undoubtedly.

Like the Kingdom of Mandalore.

——————————————

“Rise and Shine your Highness!” A sing-songy voice calls out to you before pulling the long, draping curtains apart and letting the warm Mandalorian sun pour into the room. You groan and flip over onto your side, your body is still exhausted from yesterday evening and you would like to sleep in a little longer.

“Oh, don’t give us that.” A more brash voice groans and you recognize it as Koska’s. You can hear a number of other bodies file into the suite, maybe three or four. The handmaid's pull in the elven dress and a light breakfast. You can still smell the salt water on your forearm as you swing your hand over your eyes. You were not a morning person. Koska walks up to your bed before sitting on the edge of it, placing her tan hand on your shoulder. “We’ve let you sleep in long enough, we have to get you dressed and ready for tea with the Queens.”

“Queens?” You mumble, slurring the ‘s’ out.

“Yup, both Bo-Katan and your mother as well as the Queen of Naboo and Duchess of the Felucian mountain Kingdom are all eager to spend brunch with you in the Garden.” More guests arrived this morning while you were still sleeping, but it wasn’t until Koska explained to you about the women waiting for you that you remembered what day it was. You opened your eyes wide, flopping your arm onto the mattress beside you and looking up at her drowsily.

“The masquerade is today.” You say out of realization. She smirks and slowly nods her head. Soniee budges into your conversation, sitting on the opposite side of the bed.

“We have two dresses for you to wear today! This one,” She pulls forward a gown that isn’t quite as full and round as the dress for the ball, but is still a lovely dress with a pretty skirt and pearls embroidered into the bodice. “And of course the elf dress.” She nods to the pink and gold gown that sat on a sewing-bust, shimmering in the light. “We won’t get you into the ball gown until later tonight.” She hums.

“Now, we have to get you cleaned up, your hair is a mess.” Koska stands up and pulls the heavy down comforter from off of you. The loss of warmth elicits another sleepy groan from your lips and you stare up at the ladies in waiting frustratedly. “Up!” Koska’s serious voice commands and you’re scared enough of her that you jump up out of bed, pulling the nightgown sleeve up that has been slowly slipping down your shoulder and showing more and more skin. “That’s better.” Koska hums, “Let’s get you a bath, yeah?” She walks towards the bath room, opening the golden gilded doors and into the naturally-light room. You will always admire the beauty and effort put into the Mandalorian palace despite the internal battle with living here. You follow her into the room, still sleepy and walking slowly but eventually making it to the tub in the center of the room. The bath has already been drawn, which they must have done in your sleep (they’ve never done that before). You strip out of the cream-colored nightie and dip into the warm water. It smelled of lavender and honey and you allowed your muscles to relax into the bubbles. It was perfect, exactly what you needed to clear your racing and stressful mind. Your muscles were sore from yesterday and the warm water and flowery oils soaked them blissfully. You sigh at the sensation but before you can enjoy it anymore, Koska is dumping the warm water over your head, wetting it completely. It’s unexpected and you gasp from shock, your eyes glued shut to keep the water out of them. Damp hands come up from out of the water to wipe your eyes but then another dump of water is pouring over your head and you’re back at square one. Koska was a much harsher bather than Sonnie was.

All is forgiven however when she starts massaging your scalp, cleaning your hair. You relax back into the tub and enjoy the seawater and wind getting rinsed out. The other ladies come in, one on either side of the tub who files your nails, and Sonnie brings in a towel and silk robe. The other handmaiden works at your calloused feet with a pumice stone and you try not to let it tickle too much. It was true pampering and you loved every second of it. Usually there’s only one maiden to bathe you but five was divine. You assumed this was the treatment the Queen always received.

After you are properly cleaned, your Corellian tea is brought in and you’re left alone for as long as you like. You slowly sip on the purple shaded drink, waking up from it’s comforting properties. You sigh deeply, allowing the fragrant air to fill your lungs while you look out of the tall, narrow window in the center of the outside wall. You could not see the ocean from here, but instead the distant roofs of Keldabe. It was a beautiful summer day, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and you could hear the birds who have nested in the nooks and crannies of the towers chirping. You knew you had a long day ahead of you, and you wanted to try and enjoy it as much as you could. You never really enjoyed the social aspect of royalty, and that’s all today will be, but you’re ready to brave it head on.

An hour passes before you are finally dressed in the first gown of the day. Your hair is braided back so that it will have a desirable wave for the ball tonight. You are snuggly tied into the pearled bodice of the dress, and you run your hands up and down the beading, allowing it to tickle your soft palms.

Koska pulls open the door, and you’re expecting to see the Knight standing there stoically as always, but he isn’t. The hallway is completely empty, in fact, and you can’t ignore the dreadful feeling that overcomes your body. Where was he?

You clear your throat, and look back at Koska, who was adjusting the skirt of your gown as you walked.

“Where is he?” You ask, your voice hushed almost to a whisper but not quite. There were a million possibilities behind his absence and not a single one of them was ideal. Koska lifts up from her crouched position, smoothing the front pleats of her dress.

“What?” She asks and you sigh out of frustration, there was absolutely no way she didn’t know what you were talking about but you had to be vague because of all the ladies in waiting listening in.

“Who will be accompanying me to the garden?” You say with a forceful tone, trying to prod at a deeper meaning to the question.

Luckily, Lady Reeves picks up on it, and she looks behind you. You felt like she was avoiding eye-contact and it only made you more stressed and confused. “I’ll be escorting you, Highness.” She nodded, moving a step forward and then taking the lead down the corridor. You follow hesitantly, and wait until you are far enough down the hall from the other ladies back in your suite to speak again.

“Don’t horseshit me.” You mutter behind her. She keeps her chin up high as usual. “He’s in trouble, isn’t he.”

Koska doesn’t answer.

“Koska, you promised me he would be okay.” You try not to let the emotion show through your tone but that was a challenge. You felt guilty for some reason. If he was in trouble, it would be entirely your fault. The words shake in your throat and maybe it’s the tight corset and the fact that you are descending the stairs but you’re out of breath and it’s hot, so hot.

“He’s fine, I swear to the stars.” She whispers, saying it straight forward instead of turning back at you in an attempt to stay calm and unsuspecting to watchful eyes.

“Well then why didn’t you tell me that?” You ask, twiddling your thumbs.

“I couldn’t… there’s more to it but-“

“But what? What could be so secretive that you have to keep it from your future queen?” You say through gritted teeth and immediately after, Koska is spinning around on the staircase and looking up at you with a furrowed brow. You felt like you were being scolded by an impatient tutor despite the fact that you out-ranked her.

“You don’t even want to be the Queen.” She says in a whisper-shout, starting to sound as angry and emotional as you were just moments before.

“You’re right, I don’t-“ You bite back.

“So why are you here, then?”

You aren’t sure how to answer, the obvious answer is for Corellia. You were promised something in return for your ability to produce an heir and look like a porcelain figurine on a high shelf. But you also knew it would make your family happy, and your Kingdom. You would be making them proud by marrying so rich. You made a promise.

But now you think you’re starting to stay for an entirely different and unethical reason. Something that is inherently a trap and you know it, and yet here you are, fussing over it at every change you have.

Koska rolls her eyes and scoffs before continuing down the stairs.

“Who spit in your porridge this morning?” You reply.

“You did.” She groans in response.

“I’m sorry, but what did I ever do to you?” You ask when you complete the steps down and start down another corridor, one section of the massive palace closer to your destination.

Koska is the one not to answer this time.

It infuriates you that everyone is keeping secrets from you, your entire experience in Mandalore feels built on deception and being left-out. And now, the two people who finally seemed to be on your side aren’t with you in one way or another on such a big day. Koska is angry with you for no reason and you have no idea where your knight is.

The rest of the walk to the Gardens is silent, and before you know it, you are plopped down on an uncomfortable wicker chair in the hot sun, sipping on lukewarm lemon tea and wondering how much longer you have to suffer. Your mother and Bo were giggling about something, the rest of the court buzzing with conversation and ignoring you as always. Was it possible that you were the problem? You ask yourself this after another sip of the tea, a lemon slice bumping up against your upper lip a few times. As you think, you hold the dainty cup against your mouth, losing yourself in thought without realization. Your pretty eyes stare down at the green grass of the Garden. The grass never gets green back home.

You start subconsciously bouncing your leg as you thought to yourself. Everyone seemed to ignore expect for Korkie and your Knight— who both want to fuck you. Maybe that was the only desirable thing about you. This wasn’t the first time you felt insecure about the relationship you have developed with the Knight. He’s so quiet, so different from you. Were you falling for a trick?

Was he?

Tea must have gone by fast because just before the pearls of your dress start to burn against your arms from the heat exposure, you’re excusing yourself and wandering back inside.

“Strange girl.” One of the noble ladies says to Bo when you walk away. You don’t hear it, you can’t hear anything except for your deafening thoughts.

“Are you sure she’s the one for your nephew?” Another asks. If you had known your mother was silent for all of this in fear of losing her reputation or even the deal between Corellia and Mandalore, you would have been furious.

“Well his father was an outcast, too.” One chuckles. “I guess you Kyrze’s attract the wallflowers.” A few hummed in amused response.

“Well his father wasn’t just an outcast, he was a downright scandal-“

“My sister loved him, and that is all that matters.” Bo interrupts. The laughter quickly dies out.

“Don’t tell me you believe in love, too.” One laughs.

“You aren’t married, what could you know of love?” The same one bo interrupted says.

“I do believe in love, which is why I am not married.” The Queen reiterates. “And I don’t think she’s the right fit for my Nephew, she’s too… outspoken. He needs someone who won’t outshine him.” They chuckle again, all do but your mother, who is still meekly silent.

“Well with the engagement Ball tonight, it is far too late to back out now.” One teases, and the laughter only grows.

Bo-Katan stares in the direction you left.

You huff down the hall, your arms folded and neck sweaty from the heat. You are looking back and forth, studying the layout of the hall in search of something. You’re looking for the smallest idea of where the knight could be but you aren’t very successful.

While all the fully armored guards of the Mandalorian palace are dressed identically, you are almost certain you would be able to spot your boy in a crowd of a thousand of them. You aren’t sure why, but there is something different about him, something that sticks out from the rest. Somehow you two were connected, and it made it so he was always plaguing your mind, even when you are with your literal fiance. Even when you are far away from him and have no clue where he is for the first time in two weeks.

Separation Anxiety.

You aren’t watching where you’re going, which makes you run into a tall, lanky boy. You yelp out in apologetic surprise, looking up at the person blocking your stressed search. A blonde boy flips around to look at you and you’re half expecting to see Korkie but it isn’t.

His Cousin, Hugo, looks down at you with his same charming smirk as always.

“Princess!” He bows.

“My apologies, Hugo!” You exclaim.

“Oh please, you are perfectly fine. You looked distressed? I hope It was not something I did?”

“Of course not!” You reassure, awkwardly smiling. “Uh- may i ask what you were doing in the center of the corridor?”

He chuckles, “Admiring this art.” He nods to an expansive, framed oil painting on the wall. It was of a tall man with a long face and alarming smirk. What stuck out to you, however, was that he held in both hands the same black sword from the royal portraits upstairs by the war room.

“The art is beautiful here.” You smile.

“Yes, my Aunt Satine worked hard to make it culturally rich.”

“Did you know her?”

“Yes, I am a bit older than Korkie, and I knew her for several years before she passed.”

“Are you… second in line?”

“I am.” He says with a classic amused smirk.

“So maybe you can answer a question for me, then.” You ask as you look up at the art. “What in the world is that?” You ask in reference to the blade.

“That, my foreign Princess, is the Dark Sword of Mandalore.”

“The what?” You cluelessly ask.

“A sacred weapon that the rightful ruler possesses, it’s rather powerful.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it before.” You look up at it in awe.

“Hah, yes. It is made of pure obsidian. The white is enchanted quartz veins. It is practically invincible, an elven Mand’alor forged it when he was just a boy.”

“What? There were Mandalorians who were part elf?” You ask, your eyes peeling off of the art and onto your companion.

He looks at you almost confused, “There is much you do not know about my Kingdom?”

“No… I’m afraid not.” You shamefully admit.

“Most don’t,” He shrugs and returns to the conversation unbothered, “It’s history is rather complicated.”

The two of you were quiet for a long time. Your eyes were glued to the stern face of the man in the portrait. You wondered who he was. Hugo is the first to speak up.

“You played beautifully last night.” You doubted he didn’t notice the incorrect notes and mistakes you made several times, maybe he was just being polite by ignoring them. You turn to look at him and smile kindly.

“As did you.” You return the compliment. He looks at you, and you must have been distracted by something other than him because you weren’t aware that his eyes were darting between your eyes and your lips.

Hugo forces a kiss on you.

Just like how Korkie did a few weeks ago in the library. It’s fast because you angrily pull away just as fast as he placed it on you.

“What?” You say like an idiot, looking up at him in shock.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t feel it?” He gets defensive immediately. The worst part is that it wasn’t even that bad of a kiss, much softer than Korkies, but nowhere as tender as the kisses the Knight would lay on you in the water or behind a closed door. Your entire body seemed to seize up, and you couldn’t get any words out. Not any words that you wanted to say. You just looked up at him, vulnerable and confused. He leans down to do it again but you’re able to turn your head to the side, keeping his lips off of you.

“I am… in love with another man.” You say, clearing your throat.

“You and I both know that isn’t my cousin.”

No use denying it at this point, “yes, but I am still engaged to him. I cannot just be disloyal to the future Mand’alor.” You mutter, embarrassed but trying to keep your cool. You knew you were lying, because you weren’t staying loyal to Korkie. No, you were outright cheating on him and you were falling in love with the boy you were cheating with. You were falling in love. You were very exposed, after all. Anyone could turn the corner or look through the windows and see you. It was different this time, however. Usually hiding your kisses are exciting, but that was only with the Knight. “Please,” You voice betrays you, and the emotional shake is heard through your clenched jaw, “Excuse me.” You push passed him frustratedly, making sure to shove him over a little with your shoulder. You angrily walk back to your room, finally getting there without help for the first time.

When you turned down the Corridor to your suite, you were hoping to see the beskar-clad boy who held you last night, but he still wasn’t there. You hold back emotional tears, but not seeing the one who brings the most comfort to you makes you break. Two crystal tears roll down your cheeks.

You have been taken advantage of too many times in this forsaken castle.

You pull open the door, the golden afternoon light reflecting warmly off of the gold-leafed furniture and decorations is a stark contrast from the bleak hallway. Your bed has been made, and things have been tidied up since you were in here last. You flop onto the mattress, your arms stretched out from your sides, looking up at the sheer canopy above where you lay.

Two hours pass. You think you fell asleep but you cannot remember. If you did, no dreams were had.

Soniee opens your door with trepidation after two soft knocks, “Princess, It is time to prepare for the ball.” Her voice is so timid. You twist your head to look at her, the other ladies from this morning were behind her. Koska was not with them.

You sit up from the bed, rubbing a crook in your neck from how you were laying...

—

authors note (again): i know this isn’t the best chapter ending but ya know... IT WASNT SUPPOSED TO BE

Anyways..... see you tomorrow? i guess? haha

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—

part twelve

[yee-fxcking-haw]

•Cross The Line•

Summary: “And they were roommates” predictable self induldent Denki roommate content lmao. Friends to lovers, pretty fluffy

Pairing: Denki Kaminari x FemReader (both 18+)

Warnings: Itty bitty angst, Lots o’ tension, Unprotected sex, Oral sex (female receiving), Quirk use during sex, Cumplay.

Word count: 6,984

A/N: Y'all I did it I wrote mostly plot are y'all proud of me for not being useless and horni for one fic. I mean it gets horni at the end but there is plot so yeehaw.

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“Son of a bitch!” You yell as you hurl the eyeliner across the bathroom, at your wits end after messing up for the third time. It hits the door with a sharp crack before it falls to the floor.

You kick the cabinet, successfully stubbing your toe in the process.

“Shit, shit shit shit.” You tumble backwards as you hop on one foot, planting your ass right on the toilet lid with a loud groan.

“You remodeling in here?” A chirpy voice says from the other side of the door.

“Fuck off, Denki.” You bark as you hold your busted toe.

He just chuckles as he opens the door and strides in, he leans back against the counter and crosses his arms while you scowl up at him.

His signature smirk is painted across his face, yellow hair sticking up in every direction. As usual, he’s going without a shirt, leaving him in just a pair of loose basketball shorts.

They hang just a little too low, exposing the waistband of his briefs, framing his defined adonis belt…

“You’re gonna need a bucket for all that drool.” He says, raising his eyebrows as his smirk grows into a smile.

“Oh please, I was noticing how scrawny you look.” You retort, letting your foot drop to the floor so you can stand.

“You got a date?” He nods at your dress, eyes lingering at the slit that exposes just a little too much thigh.

You and Denki are just roommates, that’s it. You’re also both incredibly horny, bisexual disasters. Naturally, there’s attraction, lingering stares, and moments of tension, but it never goes past that.

Just roommates. You can’t cross that line. Kirishima had introduced you two after meeting in class one day, convinced you would hit it off. You sure as hell did. You cliqued pretty much instantly, both full of chaotic dumbass energy.

Eventually, Kirishima moved in with his boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugo. This left Denki with no roommate, which meant you got an invitation.

You were hesitant at first, moving in with somebody after a few months of friendship was a big step, but you and Denki just worked. Neither of you kept a schedule, you shared one brain cell, and you always made each other laugh.

So, of course you moved in. Two years later, it’s still you and Denki against the world. You take care of each other, he’ll bring you candy and a heating pad when you’re on your period, you’ll make him soup and play with his hair when he’s sick.

You’ve seen each other naked, heard each other have sex, and helped each other score hookups. You pick each other up when you’re sloppy drunk, and nurse each other through the hangover the next day.

You have not, and will not, cross the line of a sexual relationship with each other. You can’t afford to, neither of you can lose the movie nights, the screaming bad music in the car together, or the two in the morning waffle house runs.

“I did, but I’m not going.” You huff as you stomp over to the sink so you can wash off the makeup.

“I can’t get this stupid eyeliner right, I’ve tried like a million times and I can’t fucking do it.” You scrub your face a little too hard, turning your skin a bit red in the process.

“Want me to do it?” He asks, he says it like it’s obvious. It kind of is, the kid is wicked good at eyeliner, he does it nearly every day.

“If you pinky promise you won’t make me look stupid and sabotage my date.” You glare at him, hinting at a time when he did in fact sabotage a date.

“That was one time, which you thanked me for in the end, because the dude was a total fuckboy.” He holds up his hands in a defensive posture.

“You’re a total fuckboy, and you did not have to tell him I had fucking herpes.” You throw your wet rag at him, which he catches skillfully.

“I’m a whore, not a fuckboy. Big difference.” He says as he tosses the rag onto the side of the sink.

“What would that be?” You ask as you bend down to retrieve the eyeliner before handing it to him begrudgingly.

He accepts it with a grin, golden eyes lighting up as he pulls the cap off of the felt pen before giving it a good shake.

“Fuckboys are so selfish, they always leave someone wanting.” He shifts so he’s standing in front of you as you lean back against the counter.

He places one hand under your chin so you’ll tilt your face up for him.

“A whore keeps someone satisfied.” His voice drops slightly as he looks down at you.

You don’t look down at his lips, or his collar bones, or his abs…

“You’re such a flirt.” You say, crossing your arms, trying to put something between the two of you.

“Hell yeah I am, now close those eyes for me.” He winks and you roll your eyes before closing them.

His hand slides up from your chin so you can hold the side of your face, his thumb lifts your eyelid slightly.

The feeling of his hand touching your face so gently shouldn’t make your heart rate increase, the feeling of his breath on your face shouldn’t make your knees a little unsteady. Most of all, Denki being this close shouldn’t be making you this dizzy.

You’ve walked in on him jerking it, you’ve even walked in on him balls deep in somebody else. You and Denki are close, you’ve stood this close before, with less clothing, why does it all of a sudden feel so different? No, it doesn’t. It can’t.

You feel the felt tip of the eyeliner press into your eyelid, he moves so fluently. He flicks his wrist at the end of the line, he shifts and does the other eye with the same precision.

“Open.” You do as he says, blinking up at him, raising your eyebrows in question as he looks you over.

A pleased smile creeps onto his face.

“You’re real pretty, ya know?” He says softly, grabbing your chin gently so he can turn your face from one side to the other.

The compliment makes your cheeks grow warmer. Your eyes dart down as you shift on your feet a little bit.

“You’re a sap.” You grumble before turning to check his work in the mirror.

It’s perfect, just a delicate little wing that enhances your eye shape. Perfect for a first date, Denki has always been better at makeup, and it’s always driven you just a little insane.

“What else are you gonna do?” He asks, making eye contact with you through the mirror.

“What do you mean?” You say as you grab your mascara and start applying it.

“Well are you gonna do anything with this?” He ruffles the top of your hair, you drop the mascara so you can bat his hand away.

“Dude, knock it off.” You say, you try to sound pissed, but start laughing when he wraps his arm around your neck so he can put you in a headlock.

“Only if you let me fix the rat’s nest on your head.” He laughs as you struggle to pull his arm off.

“I can do my own hair you sparky bastard.” You reach over and pinch his side.

He yelps and releases you from the hold, he raises his hands up and gives you a mischievous look.

“Oh, you want sparky?” Small snaps of electricity start to emit from his palms.

“Denki Kaminari, if you zap me I will suplex you.” You warn him, looking around for something you can grab to defend yourself with.

He’s much quicker than you though, and his arms around your waist in an instant. He hoists you up into the air and sits your ass on the counter. You feel the little shocks popping at your sides as he pushes you so your back is pressed against the mirror. Your senses are invaded by his warmth and the smell of Axe body spray, a smell you’ve grown to love.

“Denki, no! This shit always makes my hair all frizzy!” You protest as involuntary giggles leave your chest.

“Aw, sweetheart, are you sayin’ you can feel electricity between us?” He wiggles his eyebrows as his fingers stall.

“I will puke on you if you say any more cheesy shit.” You warn him, trying to keep your face straight, but you crack up at the melodramatic expression that crosses his face.

Then he delivers a particularly strong zap to the meat of your hip.

You don’t have time to control the way your body reacts. There’s no chance for you to keep your back arches, or the way you let out a fuck. The way you shiver is a little too intimate, your voice a little too broken. All of which Denki pays a little too much attention to.

You both settle and freeze, his sharp eyes meet yours. You’ve seen Denki Kaminari look serious a grand total of twice in the time you’ve known him. The first time was when you were ridiculously sick last winter, fever and chill with the works. The second time is now.

He watches you carefully, one eyebrow shooting up.

“Did that tickle?” He questions, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“It- yeah- it also fucking hurt, asshole.” You grumble, pushing at his chest so you can hop off the counter.

You try to shove past him with your head down, desperate to get out from under the weighty tension in the bathroom. Denki grabs you around the wrist though, stopping you in your tracks.

Your eyes meet as another wave of nerves washes over your body.

“Are we gonna talk about it?” His voice is steady, but tentative.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Your voice is just above a whisper.

Though, there certainly was.

You both stand there for a brief beat of thick silence, watching, waiting. You must imagine the way his lip twitches, the way his body shifts forward slightly…

No fucking way.

You turn on your heels and make your way out of the bathroom quickly.

You’re in your room with the door closed in no time. You lean against the back of it, catching the breath you didn’t realize you had lost.

What the hell was that? And why did it feel so… good?

No. Fuck no. Not with Denki.

You get ready in a huff, positively full of angst and confusion.

You shove it all down. It’s normal, right? To have a bit of tension with somebody you know so well, live so closely with, care for so deeply. You and Denki know each other. That’s all.

Your outfit isn’t much, but it’s enough for a first day. The colors are flattering against your complexion, the fabric clings in the right places. It’s nice, just nice.

You walk quietly from your room to the living room where Denki is sitting on the couch, legs spread wide with an arm across the back. Looking absolutely delicious- fuck- no not delicious. He just looks like Denki.

“That’s cute.” He says, he motions up and down with his phone, directing his comment at your outfit.

“Thanks.” You say a little too shortly, feeling the guilt immediately.

“I’ll be home later.” You say as you grab your keys from the dish.

“Be safe.” He calls after you.

Fuck.

***

Your date is an absolute disaster, nothing short of a trainwreck. It’s one of those dates that drains you. You politely nod as they ramble on about themselves, laugh at the bad and very insensitive jokes, and indulge in the small talk. Most of all, you miss Denki. You contribute very little, enjoy nothing, and wait for the end of the dreadful two hours you set aside for this.

You pay for dinner quickly, declining their offer for drinks, giving some bullshit excuse about having to work in the morning and being tired. You’re off tomorrow, and you’re wide awake.

You’re itching to get back to your apartment, dying to tell Denki all about your date’s wet cardboard personality. Hopefully, the bizarre moment you shared in the bathroom will be ignored and buried.

Never to be seen again.

You bust into the apartment, shuck off your bag and kick off your shoes. Denki is no longer on the couch, but at the kitchen table huddled over a cup of tea. The lights are all low or off, leaving him in mostly darkness. His posture is odd, slouched, defeated almost.

“Who died?” You try to joke, usually able to earn a chuckle with that line.

Denki doesn’t chuckle though, he sniffles.

“Sparky? What’s wrong?” You’re on him instantly, feet moving on their own.

Your hands are on the sides of his face, pulling up so he has to look at you. Your heart clenches and your chest burns as soon as the small amount of light catches his face.

His left cheek is painted with a deep red and purple bruise. His bright eyes search your face as you take the sight in, and you’re suddenly filled with fiery rage when you see how heartbroken he looks.

“Who the fuck-”

“It was my fault.” He cuts you off, grabbing your wrists so he can pull your hands off his face.

“Denki, what-”

“I told him we would hook up, so he thought we would. When I got there he had a bad vibe so I tried to leave… but he didn’t like that and he-”

You hush him when his breathing picks up, when you see tears well and his lip quiver.

“Hey, it’s ok, you’re ok.” You pull him against your chest, making a mental note to find and throttle the bastard that did this.

But that can wait. You and Denki had both returned from dates fairly busted up. The bruises were always one that were wanted though, never like this. A bad date was always laughed over, never cried over. The very thought of somebody laying their hands on Denki like this… it makes your skin crawl, it makes you want to kill.

His arms are around your waist immediately, hands grabbing as your clothes, pulling you closer. You hold each other for a long while until you feel his leg start bouncing and his fingers start to twitch.

You pull back and look down at him. He looks so displaced, so frantic and caught off guard. He needs something to do. Something to focus on. You can tell he’s not ready to talk, but he’s ready to be distracted, talking will come later.

“Will you help me get this shit off my face?” You ask gently, sliding your hand through his hair.

He blinks hard before wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Yeah- shit- I’m sorry, how was your date?” He asks, doing a shit job as pulling himself together.

“Don’t be sorry. It was awful. All they talked about was their college glory days.” You sigh, thumb running over his forehead.

“That didn’t win you? What’s wrong with you?” He asks, voice dripping with sarcasm.

There he is, or at least he’s trying.

“I missed you the whole time.” It slips out, runs away from you. You mean it though, god do you mean it.

He looks up at you with that same uneasy, distraught look. It almost makes you buckle. You feel pulled to fall into his lap, wrap yourself around him and press sweet kisses into his neck. You can’t, you know you can’t. He would probably be pissed if you crossed that line.

He doesn’t answer, he just nods silently, eyes falling to the ground as he stands up.

“Let’s get that shit off your face.”

You end up perched on the counter again as he wipes your makeup off with a warm cloth. It may seem backwards, him taking care of you, to most people it is. During your time together, you’ve learned that Denki feels useless if he isn’t helping.

When something is hurting him, he’s healed by pouring into someone else, so you let him. You’ll ice his bruise later, bring him water and medicine once you help him scratch this itch.

He takes his time with you, wiping away the makeup he did for you. The dull ache returns to your chest as he works. The soft glow of the bathroom nightlight is your only illumination, giving the room a painfully intimate environment.

He slowly wipes the cloth across your forehead one last time, laying it on the sink before bringing his hand up to hold your chin like he had earlier. You can’t help but glance at his bruise and simply hurt deep inside. You hate that you weren’t there, that you couldn’t stop it.

He breathes for a moment, looking at the planes of your face, eyes lingering in your lips for a bit too long.

“Pretty…” It’s a soft confession, something far too tender for the nature of your relationship.

His admittance settles somewhere deep within you, it wraps itself around your heart and warms it. It’s almost overwhelming and definitely terrifying.

“Do you need to eat?” You kill the building flames immediately, stamp them out with a stubborn foot.

He doesn’t mean it, he’s just vulnerable, he’s just emotional. You’d be an asshole to give into it.

“I could eat.” He sighs.

***

“This is so fucking stupid.” Denki laughs, irritated by the default plot line of the chick flick on tv.

You had ordered your favorite takeout, too much of it, to share as you watch. Slowly, you had pulled him out of his shaken state. With plenty of talk about your awful date, several good laughs, and the occasional soft spoken “you’re okay”. Denki is now settled with his head in your lap as he criticizes the lazy drama of the film.

“Why won’t they just stop being stupid and just… like each other?” He whines, gesturing at the tv with an inpatient hand.

“Dude they can’t. It would ruin the tension for them to like each other right now.” You explain.

He sits up and huffs before grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“But they could work. They could really work.” He says as he stuffs his face.

He seems so genuinely thoughtful, despite his grievances with the quality of the movie, he’s involved.

“Maybe they could.” You say, watching him instead of the movie.

He feels it when he looks at you, squeezing his ribs, trickling down his spine. The overwhelming, almost blind urge to lean in and kiss you. But he can’t, so he doesn’t.

“Could they?” He whispers.

You’re both frozen, trapped in the beam that’s suddenly shining down on you. It exposes every crack and corner of your relationship, leaving you both ripped open and afraid.

He’s leaning in again like he did in the bathroom, closer and closer and closer… until he grabs his damn drink.

Fuck.

A blush spreads across your cheeks, stomach aching with embarrassment. You pull back, shoving yourself under a blanket. You weren’t too obvious, right? You didn’t lean in too much… right?

He takes a long sip then sets the drink down harshly, not enough to make you jump, but enough to make you pay attention.

“Can we stop, please?” He says as he stands up, he runs his hands through his hair and huffs before he starts to pace.

“What?” You ask, trying to sound as oblivious as possible.

“Dude.” He turns on you, looking exhausted, eyes begging you for something.

“Denki- I, you need sleep…” You stand up and start to tidy, not really doing anything though. Just picking up cups and setting them down to look busy.

“I don’t need sleep.” He snaps before grabbing you by the shoulders. His eyes are wild, frantic, searching.

“What do you need?” You ask, hands shaking at your sides. His body sags, hands releasing you so he can hug himself.

“I don’t know.” It’s short and rushed, and he leaves you no time to respond before he storms off to his bedroom. His feet stomp, the door slams, and you fall to the couch in a heap.

This cannot be happening, not to you and Denki. You both just need sleep, you just need to brush it off and start again tomorrow. He’s emotional. He’s just emotional.

You turn the TV off, sneering at the couple kissing on it. You clean up slowly, setting dishes in the sink to be done tomorrow.

It’s ok. You’re ok. Emotions run high after bad dates, after traumatic events. It’s human nature. That’s all, you and Denki will be ok, you always are.

Your shoulders draw up when you hear his door open again, staying busy at the sink as you heard him walk into the kitchen.

“Can we talk about it?” His voice is unsteady, it tugs on your heart as you spin to face him.

“Talk about wha-”

“Please. Don’t.” He sighs as he steps towards you.

He’s too damn pretty when he’s tired. His cheeks get all pink, with glassy eyes and a shiny nose. Even with his busted cheek bone, he’s so… pretty.

Denki’s feelings have always run hot, he loves fast and hurts deeply. You can’t even begin to imagine the tsunami of emotion he must have pounding against his chest. You see it in his eyes though, something is breaking him.

“We could work.” He closes the distance between you even more, giving you no room to hide once your backside hits the counter.

“Denki…” You put your hands on his chest, trying to put something between you two, trying to cling to the line that’s been drawn.

“We could. Just- you don’t have to answer. Just think about it.” And then he’s gone again, away to hide in his room. Leaving you shocked and overwhelmed.

We could work.

You could, and you know it, you’re just not ready to accept it.

***

Sleep doesn’t come well, or even at all. You do think about it, all night. It’s the only thing on your mind as you toss and turn and huff. The sun is already peaking up into the sky, bathing your room in a hazy glow.

We could work.

Just because you could, doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be foolish of you to try. This is a friendship neither of you can afford to lose. You have some confidence that it could indeed withstand an awkward attempt at a relationship… but what if the attempt wasn’t awkward? Denki had told you, drunkenly, how much he loved you. He slept next to you when you cried, held you and talked you down. He knew how many sugars to put in your coffee and how you never bothered to match your socks.

Over time, Denki had memorized you as a person, and you had done the same for him. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to have in a partner? Someone who knows you, someone who makes it safe to be known.

Knock knock

It’s a courtesy knock, something he does to let you know he’s coming in. You never keep your door locked, and he’s always allowed in.

“Mornin’.” He says with a scratchy voice as he peaks into your room.

Fucking hell. Why does he have to be so pretty all the time?

“Mornin’.” You reply

You pull the blankets up around your chest, you realize now you’re in one of his t-shirts, not uncommon, but entirely too intimate given recent events.

He sits on the edge of your bed, all messy hair and puffy eyes. He offers you one of the coffee cups he’s holding, and it smells divine. You accept it as you sit up right, crossing your legs and clinging to your blankets.

His bruise is darker, yellow around the edges with deep red and purple splotches. It gives your chest the same tight feeling, something helpless and angry.

“I’m sorry, I was out of line.” He says quietly.

“You were right, I was emotional and I needed sleep and I definitely shouldn’t have dumped it on you.”

He fidgets while he talks, leg bouncing as his fingers dance around his mug. You reach out to rub his back, but he flinches. He fucking flinches.

Neither of you speak, but you meet each other’s eyes. He looks sorry, so sorry. He looks embarrassed and scared and guilty.

Slowly, you grab both cups and set them on your nightstand. You open your arms to him, still not speaking, not opening the door for him to apologise for something that isn’t his fault.

He falls into you easily, arms around your waist with his face against your neck. He crumbles there, unable to articulate, only able to cry. You hold him close, rub circles in his back and play with his hair. You let him go as long as he needs to, sitting with him, hurting with him.

“Denki?” You tread carefully, using your softest voice.

He looks up then, with a rosey face and searching eyes.

“You’re safe here. You’re safe with me.”

Something you’ve never seen before flashes in his eyes, something soft and warm, something that makes you want to fall forward into him like he just did with you.

You don’t, though, you stay still.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

Then, with all the caution and care in the world, he places a kiss on your forehead. It’s so simple, it’s been done a million times between the two of you, but it sits differently in your chest this time. It stays there, taking up space, spreading through you. That feeling of wanting to cross a line.

“Do you want to make breakfast?” He asks as he wipes at his face with his sleeves.

“Of course. You want those big ass waffles I make?” You ask, trying to lighten the mood.

His grin is slow to appear, but it does appear, and it’s as dazzling as always.

“I always want some big ass waffles.”

***

The rest of the day is spent in close proximity with each other, not unusual, but like everything else the past twenty four hours, it feels different.

You share you sit with knees touching while you eat your waffles, pee with the door open, he puts the toothpaste on your toothbrush for you. It’s all so normal for you two, but god it feels so different. It feels more important, it feels more… wholesome? Maybe? Not quite, that word isn’t entirely applicable. Neither you to Denki are wholesome in any capacity. Then a horrible thought scrambles into your mind.

It feels romantic. It feels domestic. It feels like a relationship.

It hits you while you’re helping him clean up the mess you’ve made cooking dinner. It’s in the way his hand ghosts over your waist when he slides behind you, the way he gets you more to eat without asking him to, the way makes you laugh so naturally.

Fuck.

You love him, you know this as a fact. You love him more than anyone, he knows you inside and out and you know him. You’re just now realizing in exactly what way you love him. He holds your hair when you puke, he rubs your back when you cramp, he pretends to be your boyfriend to scare off bad dates. He loves you too.

“Denki.” Your voice is quiet, your hands shake.

“Can we talk about it?”

His whole body tenses as he sets down the plate he was rinsing. He turns slowly, as if to avoid frightening you.

“Can we?” He asks gently, hopefully.

You step towards him, twisting your fingers around each other anxiously.

“This… works, doesn’t it?” You ask, awkwardly gesturing between the two of you.

He closes more of the distance, standing only inches from you.

“It does, and it could.” He says gently.

“What If it doesn’t?” You wonder out loud, fear creeping up your spine.

“Then it doesn’t.” He says simply.

“And we’ll be ok?”

“We’ll be ok.”

You stand in silence, keeping an eye on each other as you both process the information. He does that leaning thing again, like he wants to be closer. Then you panic.

“But it would be stupid.” You say as you turn away, wringing your hands around each other while you pace. He lets out a sigh and throws his hands up, exhausted with the back and forth.

“Right, because you and I would never do anything stupid.” His voice is rough, impatient, unfamiliar.

“We can’t afford to be stupid with this, dude. Can’t you see that?” You argue.

“Then we can be careful with it, we can start slow, we can ease into it.” He’s nearly begging, stepping towards you again.

“Ease into what!?” You turn on him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t play dumb.” He crosses his arms, you mirror him, both skittish, both afraid.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and we won’t talk about it ever again. You have my word.” He offers, but he doesn’t want to.

You stand there, weighing your options, chest seizing as you watch his vibrant eyes search your face.

You can’t tell him you don’t want it. You can’t lie to him.

“I- Denki… I can’t lose you. We can’t fuck this up.” You feel tears prick at your eyes and a tightness in your throat, the very idea of being without your best friend makes you panic.

“You won’t fucking lose me. You have me, all of me. We won’t fuck this up if we just keep doing what we do.” He tries to keep his voice calm, but he breaks a little.

Another moment of heavy silence is spent between you, chests rising and falling rapidly, hands twitching as minds race.

Denying this any longer would be a crime, a horrible waste of time. Something snaps then, something gives in, and the line is crossed.

His hands are at the side of your face and his forehead falls against yours. Breath is hot, hands are needy, hearts are aching.

“Please, god, please.” You grab at his wrists, not to push him off, to pull him in, keep him close.

“I want you, need you, please.” You confess.

And then your soul is in flames. He shudders and his lips are on yours as soon as he can get them there. All at once, and not soon enough, the line you had both been clinging to is crossed. His hands hold your face so tightly as he works his lips against yours, kissing you with all he has left, letting loose all the times he’s wanted to before. It’s all consuming, it’s mind numbing, it’s (no pun intended) fucking electric.

He walks you back as he kisses you urgently until your ass hits the counter, his hands are on the backs of your thighs instantly. He whispers a quick jump against your lips. You do exactly that.

Now seated on the counter, you spread your legs so he can settle between them. He slides in perfectly, lips still hot and greedy against your own. His hands cling to your hips while yours claw at his back.

He breaks from you, panting with his pupils blown wide.

“Can we do something stupid?” He asks between puffs of air.

“Please, Denki, please.” You sigh, grabbing at his shirt. He grabs it by the collar and rips it off, revealing the body you’ve seen so often, but now you get to know it.

“I wanna taste your pussy.” He whispers before pressing his open mouth against your neck.

The words send a shock all the way down your body. The sparks fly and then settle between your legs where you feel his hard length pressing against your heat.

“Haven’t shaved.” You say, slightly embarrassed.

“Like I fucking care.” And then his hands are at your clothes, pulling them off and throwing them away until you’re left completely bare for him.

His skin feels like heaven against yours, warm and dewy and right.

“Gonna make you feel so good, fuck.” The last word is said with a tone of disbelief.

His hands slide up your sides, gathering your breasts so he can tease your nipples with his thumbs.

He smirks against your neck when you gasp and arch against him, pushing your bodies even closer together.

“Sensitive little thing, aren’t you?” He taunts.

“You’re talking too much.” You let out a breathy laugh at his teasing before planting your hand on top of his head and pushing him down.

He gladly falls to his knees, he throws one of your legs over his shoulder like it’s life or death before finally looking at your soaked center.

“Oh my fucking god.” He sighs.

“I wanna tease you but holy hell, I gotta-” He’s on you before you can brace at all, his tongue licks along your slit slowly, almost reverently.

And then he moans. It’s something whiney, something achey, escaping from the back of his throat.

He doesn’t stop, he doesn’t pull away, he finds the spot that makes you jump and sets up camp. He kitten licks your clit until your hands are pulling at his hair as you gasp above him.

It’s all so much, it’s all so good. Especially when he finally presses two fingers into you. He steps a gentle pace, a soothing push and pull that feels incredible. He works and works and works until your thighs are trembling and you’re babbling praises.

“Denki- fuck- there, right there, fuck fuck fuck.” He eats you so sweetly, with so much precision.

You almost anticipated him being more reckless, more sloppy. He isn’t though, he takes his time, learning your sweet spots, finding the angle that makes you crumble.

And he does.

You reach your end when he flattens his tongue and curls his fingers, massaging every part of you. His name falls from your lips in a broken cry, hands tug at his hair as your thighs squeeze his head.

He helps you through it, licking and fingering slowly to ease you back down, letting you feel every last nerve erupt in pleasure.

“Fuck that was perfect, you’re so fucking sweet.” He sighs against you.

You don’t answer, you can’t, you just grab at him until he gets the hint to stand up.

“Need you inside me, please, Denki please.”

“That’s funny.” He says thoughtfully, pulling down his sweats and briefs to reveal his very hard, very pretty dick.

“What?” You ask, breathless as he steps between your legs. He grabs at his length and gives it a few lazy strokes before pressing his head up against your cunt. The action makes you shiver and dig your nails into his shoulder.

“Didn’t think you were one to beg.” He says with a trembling voice, body buzzing with anticipation.

Then he presses in, replacing any smart remark you may have had with a gasp. It’s definitely a stretch, but god it’s incredible. He fills you so well, presses all of the right spots as he slides in.

“Denki- shit.” Your head falls back against the cabinet, your brain turns to mush as you try to fully comprehend how you ended up here, most of all how you went so long without this.

“So fucking tight.” He pants as he bottoms out, his praise makes you clench, which in turn makes his head fall back with a sweet little gasp.

He pulls in a sharp breath through his teeth, his top lip pulls up almost like he’s in pain. You know he isn’t though, he’s just savoring it.

With a frantic hand, you reach up and grab at the hair at the nape of his neck. You pull him back down against you, both moaning into the kiss when he moves his hips back slowly.

Your lips are messy against each other, bodies working together, finally colliding the way they’re meant to. He keeps his hips moving, setting a perfect, smooth pace. His hands settle on your hips as your stay in his hair.

You’re more vocal than usual, moaning out little praises, needing more and begging for it.

“You feel so good, don’t stop, baby- feels so fucking good.” Your lips quiver as you speak, making you sound so weak and needy. That mixed with the affectionate name does something to Denki, something that names him break a little more.

He buries his face into your neck, whispering a harsh fuck that sounds strangled and desperate. His thrusts get a little faster, his hands grab you a little tighter, and all you feel is Denki.

Your whole body buzzes, in your fingertips, the backs of your thighs, you feel him everywhere.

You don’t even consider the mess that you’ll make on the counter, don’t mind the bruises he’ll leave on your hips, it’s all worth it. So fucking worth it.

“Look at me, look at me when I make you cum.” One of his hands comes up to hold your face as he speaks frantically.

His words set off a cloud of butterflies in your stomach, every sensation building, becoming more intense. You nod pitifully as you lean into his hand, chasing your high with each of his deep, filling thrusts.

The feeling of his hand on your hip reminds you of the last time he had you sitting on a counter like this. You remember how he shocked you, how it went straight to your cunt, how much you loved the feeling.

Body jolting with each thrust, your hand falls over his on your hip. You give him one look, and his eyebrows shoot sky high.

“Yeah? You want me to shock you?” His voice climbs as he speaks, so high and pretty and needy.

“Yes, fuck yes, please, Denki.” You plead, you’re so damn close, you just need that final push.

He doesn’t waste any time. As soon as you ask so sweetly, his palm starts to spark, biting at your skin. You cry out and throw your head forward, the electricity drives you up a wall, absolutely hooked on the sensation.

“That’s it, cum nice and hard for me sweetheart.” His other hand moves down to thumb at your clit and that’s all it takes.

“I’m gonna- ohmyfuckinggod- Denki! Shit!” You sob against his skin as he zaps you just a little more. It makes you delirious, you shiver and jolt as your hands claw down his back.

He fucks you through it, moans and praises fall from his lips as you crest. Your walls quiver around him, almost finishing him off too. Somehow, he keeps it together, he holds his pace until he’s sure you’re on your way back down.

“That’s it baby, that’s it.” He coos as his thrust become more shallow, “Oh fuck.”

He pulls out and jacks himself off only a few times before he’s spilling onto your thigh, painting the skin hot white ropes.

Your hand darts down to gather his release on your fingers before bringing it to your lips. You make a show of licking it up, popping your fingers from your mouth as your eyes flutter shut.

“Oh you dirty fuckin’ girl.” He muses, he gathers the rest up with his thumb so he can press it into your mouth.

You swirl your tongue around his thumb, looking up at him with a doe eyed expression.

You never dreamed you two would ever end up here, feeling and tasting each other in the filthiest of ways, but god it feels so right.

You stay there for just a moment, clinging to the high and each other, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

As your breathing steadies, his hands are placed gently around your waist, thumbs playing at the bottom of your ribs.

You share a moment of silence, waiting for the other to make the first move.

“Wanna talk about it?” Denki asks, a smile playing at his lips. You let out a breathy laugh, head falling forward so you can lean your forehead against his collar bone.

You start to press soft kisses across his chest, he hand slides to play with the hair at the back of your head.

“I don’t think we have to.” You kiss up his chest until you’re looking up at him.

“This works, doesn’t it?” He asks fondly, looking as stunning as ever, bruise and all.

“This works.” You confirm.

With that, he ducks down suddenly, arms sliding around you so he can throw you over his shoulder.

“Denki! What the hell?” You laugh, pounding at his back playfully.

“If we aren’t talkin’ we’re fuckin’. This isn’t a one and done deal baby.” He says as you round the corner to your bedroom, he throws you on the bed so you land with a bounce and a giggle.

“I hope you don’t have plans for the next six hours.” He falls into you, kissing all over your neck and collarbones.

“Hey.” You say quietly.

“Hmm.” He responds between kisses.

“I love you, sparky.”

He pauses, looking up at you with his luminant eyes.

“I know.” His face splits into a teasing grin.

You punch his shoulder, pouting dramatically.

He inches up the bed, caging you with his arms so he can cradle your head with his hands. He looks at you thoughtfully for just a moment before leaning down to kiss you.

It’s gentle and careful this time, slow and thought out. It makes you absolutely melt.

“I love you too.” He whispers against your lips.

It does work, it works beautifully. It was a slow and not so steady road, but you two knuckleheads did it. You crossed that damn line.

[i-am-a-mes]

Dream Daddies

Summery: Reader had a bad experience and her daddies help her through it!

Warning: ONLY 18+! Violence, angst, smut, fluff, swearing, polylife, dd/lg relationship, degrading, oral, dirty talk, p in v, d/s relationship, mention of subdrop, subspace,  

Parring: Chris Evans x Plus size Reader x Henry Cavill

Word count: 5,466

A/N: Omg! You guys are seriously the best!! Thank you for the follow, likes and interaction. I appreciate every single one of you. As a little thank you, I got a One-shot for you. (Okay it’s really a long-shot, because I can’t control myself ;))It might be something I would add to from time and time again, when my mood strikes ;)Here it is, my first one-shot, based on a absolutely wonderful dream I had! Not beta’d, so all mistakes are mine. Don’t own any pictures in the header

My masterlist

Dream Daddies

"Hey.. stop for a moment"

I turned around to see a rather tall skinny man in his late 40s with frizzy hair came jogging over to me.

"Uhm yes, can I help you?" I looked at him and then around me since I was getting a weird vibe from him already. 

We were standing in the corridor just outside my apartment. I had never seen the man before in my building and it gave me a slight chill up my back.

Maybe he's visiting somebody in the building, I thought.

"Ah yes you can actually. I'm new in the building you see, just moved in 34C over there. He pointed to the door slightly across from mine.

"Oh. Well welcome to the building" I began fiddling with my keys

"Thank you sweetie" 

I slightly scrunched up my nose at the nickname 

"I was just wondering how much?"

"Excuse me?" I really didn't get the question

"Well you see.. I've been watching you, and I know one when I see one, so how much?"

He came closer and closer to me as his words got lower. I immediately backed up but suddenly my back met the wall beside my door

"I'm sorry sir, but I really don't understand what you mean. If you will excuse me…"

As I turned trying to get away from him, his arm came up and blocked me, while his other hand touched my waist

"Come on.. don't play coy. I've seen you with two different men, and I heard the noises from your place. So how much? Can't be too much for a fat girl like you"

I began shaking and my eyes became cloudy with tears 

"Sir, please let me go! I'm not what you think. Please let me go"

He just grinned a slimy smile and began moving his face closer to mine. 

A loud sob came from my lips as I stood frozen in place, but as soon as I felt his breath on my neck, it was gone again. I opened my eyes to see that he was gone. I blinked a few times and began looking around, as I heard a grunting noise. To my right I saw the creepy man laying on the ground and a big hulking body looming over him. A body I recognized.

"Chris!!!! Stop!"

My boyfriend Chris was in the midst of punching the guy. I quickly went over to him, trying to make him stop. As soon as he heard my voice and felt my soft touch on his body, he stopped mid swing. He looked at me with wide crazy blue eyes, that softened immediately at the sight of me.

"Chris, please stop! Let him go. I just wanna go inside! Please!" 

He scanned my features and saw the evident distress, before taking another glance at the douchebag on the floor. He lifted him by the collar of the cheap shirt he was wearing.

"If you ever as much as cast another glance at my baby I will fucking murder you!" 

The man just sobbed and nodded heavily. As soon as Chris got up and let him go, the man scrambled back to his apartment. In one swift move Chris was on me, checking frantically my face, body and everything for signs of hurt og injuries. 

"Are you okay baby? Did he hurt you?"

I just shook my head and began crying while nuzzling into his neck. He quickly picked up my thick body and made swiftly his way to our apartment.

Once inside he navigated around the two happy jumping dogs before he placed us on the sofa, with me sitting in his lap with my face buried in his neck,  quietly crying. Both Kal and Dodger came over and looked at us with tilted heads and small whines.

"Shhh.. baby! It's okay. He's gone now. It's over! He won't touch or even look at you again."

He rubbed slow circles on my back and placed small kisses on my head.

"Mommy had a bad experience so go guard the door boys." Both dogs nudged softly at my leg before making their way to the door.

"I'm just gonna call Henry okay?"

I just nodded as I kept my face in his neck, taking in his sweet scent that always calmed me down. I could feel him shifting, trying to get his phone out of his pocket, before settling down again, and one hand continuing the small circles on my back.

"Yeah hey man. You need to come home ASAP. Why? Well I found some creep trying to feel up y/n in the hallway and well if I hadn't shown up when I did….Yeah I know man!... Don't worry he would be a fool for trying anything! Trust me!"

I could vaguely hear Henry's voice on the other side of the call.

"She is somewhat okay. I'm just trying to calm her down, but I really think she needs you here too…. Yeah… I know.. Great, see you in a bit."

Chris hung up and placed a kiss on my head again as his other hand began caressing my thigh.

"Is he coming?"

My voice was small and cracked as I sniffled and looked up at Chris, meeting his kind blue eyes.

"Yeah, he's dropping everything and making his way home now"

I just nodded and placed myself back in my little nook. 

I have no idea how long we sat there, but as soon as we heard the keys in the door we both lifted our heads to see Henry storm through the door before slamming it shut, making both dogs jump up and bark before realizing who it was.The loud noises made me jump slightly and Chris' grip tightened around me to show me I was safe. When I saw Henry I began crying again and in a split second he was around me. We shifted so I was now curled around him instead of Chris. Henry was sitting on the floor with me in his lap.

"My baby! You okay? Are you?" Henry's voice was laced with concern and I just gave a small response of "yes I'm okay Daddy"

Henry hugged me tight with his arms around my waist, and Chris gently patted my head.

"Babygirl, would you like a bath? With some nice bubbles?" Henry asked after a while

He felt my head nod yes in response.

"Chris, why don't you start that and I'll bring our girl in there."

"You got it! Baby, do you want the strawberry or the vanilla bath bomb?"

Chris' voice came softly next to me. I sniffled and turned my face to look at him. When our eyes met he smiled at me

"Strawberry please Daddy"

"You got it baby!" He kissed the top of my head before disappearing into the bathroom.

Henry shifted as he tried to stand up with me still wrapped around him

"Umpf, up we go baby. Are you still good?" 

A small yes came from my lips with a little sniffle to follow.

He took me to the bathroom and placed me on the counter. I could hear the water filling the bathtub and smell the sweet strawberry. 

"Darling I need you to let go of Daddy now, so we can get you ready for the bath." Henry's deep voice made me warm all over and per usual I did as he told and loosened my grip around his neck.

"There we go. Such a good girl"

My heart swelled with the praise and a small smile grazed my lips

"There she is. Our beautiful girl"

Both of them stood in front of me and smiled at me with nothing but love and care in their eyes. 

"We love you so much baby!" Henry placed a hand on my cheek softly caressing it and Chris placed a hand on my knee drawing small circles on his thumb.

"I love you too Daddies!"

They kissed each of my cheeks and made me smile.

"Let's get you ready for that bath" 

Chris returned to the tub and Henry went to grab the bottom of my turtleneck, but I quickly pulled down on it as to keep it on

"What's the matter baby? You know you gotta take of your clothes so you can get in the nice bath Chris made for you"

I blushed and looked down in my lap

"I know Daddy, it's just… " I began gnawing on my lip

"What baby, you can tell Daddy"

Henry looked concerned when I stared at him, and saw Chris come into view

"I wanted to do something nice today for you, a little surprise. But that man…" my eyes began welling up again and tears fell down my cheek

"Oh shhh.. easy baby! It's alright. The bad man is gone"

I nodded in response

"What kind of surprise were you talking about sweetheart?" Chris bent down to meet my eyes and gave me a cheeky grin, which I couldn't help to giggle at.

"I just.. " I tried to hide my face by looking down at my lap. A finger under my chin lifted my face to my two Daddies who had a smirk on their faces

"I put on something… naughty.." I blushed under their stare and fiddled with fingers.

They both chuckled at my shyness

"Naughty huh?" Henry looked at Chris with a glint in his eye. 

"Why don't you show us, baby?" Chris asked.

I jumped down from the counter, and immediately felt small standing in front of the two large men that towered easely over me. 

I pulled down the zipper on the back of my dark blue knee length skirt that flared around my hips and as it felt at my ankles, I pulled off my black turtleneck. The disregardment of my clothes revealed a sultry lingerie piece across my voluptuous body.

It consisted of a cupless bra with black and burgundy coloured lace details under the wire and around the boobs. A pair of crotchless panties with the same lace details curved around my mound and the backside were only to black strings that curved around my big butt. As an extra layer there was a black choker that had a string that ran between the swell of my breasts and went to a band around my waist and then proceeded to go into two garter belts at each thigh. 

I stood there fidgeting with my fingers and swaying with my hips, before casting a glance at my two Daddies. A loud huff came from Chris and a deep growl from Henry as they took in the sight of me. Their pupils were completely dilated and scanned every inch of my curvy body. 

“Ahem.. whe.. *cough*.. Where did you get that baby girl?” Chris inquired with a lifted brow

“Well.. I got it online a couple of days ago. Do you like it?” I looked up at them with big eyes and a nervousness ebbing from me since I wasn’t sure if they liked it.

“Yeah…” Chris answered breathlessly and licked his lips while keeping his gaze on my boobs that was spilling out of the cups

Henry just stared at the piece before looking me in the eye. 

“Darling… you look absolutely ravishing.” Another deep growl came deep from in him “But as much as I would like to completely wreck you while wearing that...and trust me I think we both would” 

Chris nodded eagerly with a hand that palmed his growing erection 

“Tonight is not the right time, okay? Something very traumatic happened to you not long ago, and I’m scared that if we do anything naughty you might drop”

Their stares and Henry’s deep voice and words had given me goosebumps all over and I could feel my juices beginning to leak

“But Daddy…” I gave him big puppy eyes in hope of changing his mind since I was now severely turned on by their response. 

“No my love. But I do want you to save this for another good time.” He winked at me, but I could hear by the tone of his voice there was no room for negotiation, but that didn’t help a small pout forming on my lips

“Aw dude! She’s killing me right now!” Chris exclaimed while throwing his hands up and turning around towards the bathtub.

I gently peeled the intricate underwear off and stepped towards the bath. Henry held my hands while I slowly sank in the perfectly warm water and soon I was fully submerged in the strawberry scented water. My head peaked just above the big bubbles that Chris had made and I felt like I was sitting in a cloud, a thought that made me giggle out loud.

They both looked at me and couldn’t help the grin across their faces.

“What so funny baby girl?” Chris sat on the edge of the tub.

“It’s like I’m sitting in a cloud! Tihi”

“Yeah it really is. The prettiest cloud I have ever seen” He leaned over and gave me a kiss. I took the opportunity to take a handful of bubbles and place it around his face, giving him a big white Santa like beard, which made me burst out in laughter. 

“Oh you think you are really funny huh sweetheart?” 

“Ahahaha Yes I really do Daddy”

“Oh you are so gonna get it” He lunged his fingers under the bubbles and began tickling whatever part of me he could get his hands on.

“No Daddy! Help me! Nooooo!” I squealed and thrashed about, making the water and bubbles splashing everywhere. 

Henry couldn’t help but chuckle

“Sorry baby, you did this to yourself” 

“Noooo! Daddy help!! It’s too much!” I almost screamed while laughing and Chris was just enjoying the playful torture he put me through. 

After another minute or so, Henry told us to stop, which I was eternally grateful for, despite him saying it was not to help me, but because of the mess and because this was meant to calm you down and relax you. 

“But Daddy, it’s okay. I’m rather good now”

“You say that now, but I know that in the middle of the night your pretty little head will start worrying and you won’t get a good night sleep because of it” 

Henry placed himself on his knees beside the tub, bringing a hand to cup my face. 

“Why don’t you sit and relax while Chris fills more water in it since he spilled so much of it and I will get you something to drink. Okay?”

“Okay Daddy” 

He placed a soft kiss on the top of my head, and patted Chris on his shoulder before leaving the room. Chris gave me a wink before filling the tub with fresh warm water.

“Uhm Daddy?”

“Yes baby girl?”

“Could you maybe light that good candle? You know the one that smells like fresh linins?”

“You got it honey” 

Chris got up and went to find the candle and a lighter.

As I sat comfortably back in the big tub and played absentmindedly with the puff of bubbles that surrounded me, my thoughts began to drift.

Thoughts about my love for my Daddies, how they loved me. 

Thoughts of our time together and time apart. 

Thoughts of doubt when people scrunch their noses at us, especially me.

Thoughts of nasty men thinking I was a hooker.

Thoughts of how he might be right.

Thoughts of how I didn’t do anything in this relationship beside being a sextoy

Thoughts of how my Daddies hated me

Thoughts of how disgusted they thought I was

Thoughts upon thoughts upon thoughts

“I didn’t know what you were in the mood for darling, so I brought your favorite soda and some water, and also got you some gummy…” Henry stopped in his tracks when he saw me looking at him with tears running down my face and my bottom lips wobbling as I sat amongst the bubbles crying quietly

“Oh baby girl! What’s the matter?”

I began hiccuping as sobs broke loudly through me, which made Chris storm into the room with concern all over his face.

“What happened?” 

“I don’t know, she was just sitting here crying when I came in” Henry began rubbing slow smoothing circles on the bare skin on my shoulder and Chris quickly came beside him and found my hand beneath the bubbles to hold.

“Baby girl, can you tell us what made you so sad?”

I cried some more but began to take some short shallow breaths, before getting wide eyed because I couldn’t get proper air in my lungs. Chris quickly recognized the signs of my panic attack and placed gently my hand on his broad chest before placing his on mine

“Easy girl. Breathe with Daddy. Come on. You got this!... One…” He took a deep breath and I looked scared at him but tried to mimic the breathing from him

“Twooooo… good girl!” 

The praise calmed my nerves 

“Aaaaand threeeee” As I exhaled with him and he could feel my heart rate falling down he gently kissed my knuckles before caressing my cheek.

“There she is, there’s our baby girl” 

I looked at them both, still with tears filling my eyes and gave them a small smile.

“Such a good girl” Henry praised “Is that a bit better?”

I nodded in response

“Wanna tell us what that was about?”

“Okay...” 

I took another deep breath before continuing

“I just began thinking about how much I love you. I love you so much. But then the thoughts went to a bad place. How people don’t like me being with both of you. How people think you deserve better. Then, I thought about what that man said… and how he might be right”

“Wait a minute… What did the man say?” Henry looked curiously at me, before looking at Chris

“I didn’t hear anything, he was just trying to feel her up when I got there so I saw red” 

Henry just nodded before looking at me again

“What did he say, baby girl?”

“He… he wanted to know how much…” I looked at the puff of bubbles in front of me

“He said he knew one when he saw one… and that it couldn’t be much because….” I wiped some snot from my nose with the back of my hand “Because I was fat”

A soft sob came through me as I began crying again. Henry was quick to place a kiss on my head as he continued rubbing soothing circles on my back. 

“Shhh… baby! None of that is true! The only thing that is true is that we love you so very much! We love you so much!!” He placed a gentle kiss on my cheek 

"We love you! Every inch of you! We wouldn't want you any other way! Believe us! Fuck what every body else thinks! They are just jaloux that we got such a fucking babe as our girlfriend! And for that sleeze ball in the hallway. He can't even get a lady without paying one. So don't believe a word that comes out of his mouth. And we will make sure he gets thrown out. Nobody touches or make our baby sad!"

Henry nodded eagerly at Chris' words and I just stared at them with big eyes and tear stained cheeks. 

"I'm so lucky to have two Daddies that love me. I can't believe my luck sometimes!"

"Well you better, because you are stuck with us"

"Oh the best place to be stuck! Between my two Daddies"

They both groaned at that and we all began laughing. 

After the relaxing bath where they both took turns massaging variering limbs of mine and telling me sweet nothings, I finally let them take me out. Henry wrapped me in a big fluffy soft towel and patted me dry. 

We then found ourselves on the couch watching a movie while eating some chinese takeaway. Afterwards my head found its way to Henry's lap and my feet on Chris lap. 

"Mmmhmm" I couldn’t help the moan from my lips. 

"Are you comfy sweetie?" Chris squeezed my feet

"Very much!" 

I nuzzled closer to Henry and Chris, and soon sleep overcame me. 

In my somewhat sleepy state I heard muffled voices, the deep rumble of Henry and the soft boston accent of Chris talking over my sleeping form. About what I could not tell, the sleep drew me too deep.

When I woke up I laid in our comfy bed, sandwiched between my two Daddies. My head was on Henry’s chest, that slowly rose and fell with his slow breathing, and Chris spooning me with his strong arms wrapped around my thick waist and one hand cupping one of my breasts. I couldn’t help nuzzling deeper into their embrace and inhale their combined scents. 

After a while I could feel my bladder being full, so I made my way stealthily out of the cocoon and went to the bathroom. 

Then I found one of Henry’s shirts and pulled it over my naked body, and then cast a glance at the two massive bodies in my bed, before deciding to make them breakfast for being so good to me yesterday. 

The music in my headphones were blaring and I swayed my lucious hips as I flipped another french toast on to the growing stack of sweet bread. The two dogs were laying closely to the kitchen, watching my antics and hoping for a snack, which I of course supplied. 

I twirled around to see if the coffee was ready in the french press and then placed some berries in some bowls.

I didn’t see both of my Daddies in the doorway, just watching me as I danced around in nothing but Henry’s white shirt that was only buttoned with 3 buttons and some knee high socks. But in one of my twirls to the music I spotted them, and it scared the shit out of me, making me shriek and pull my earphones off.

“Holy shit! You scared me!!” I laughed as I skipped my way over to them

“Language” Chris said in his best Cap voice, which made me giggle. 

I placed a big kiss on each of them, and both of their hands began to wonder on my body as I stood between them

“No.. no.. it’s time for breakfast!”

“You made breakfast for us?”

“Uhuh… so take a seat I’ll bring you everything…” When they didn’t make any moves I gave them my best scolding face “Quickly, before it gets cold” 

They couldn’t help chuckling at my command and with another glance over my body, they sat at our dinner table.

“Wow baby, you went all out. It looks delicious” Henry praised me, and as I placed the last bowl of berries on the table, I sat in his lap with a big grin

“Thanks Daddy! It’s just to say thank you for being so sweet to me yesterday” I kissed his cheek.

“Aw that’s nice, but you didn’t have to. We were just doing our job as your Daddies sweetheart.” Chris grabbed me and pulled me onto his lap. I waved my fingers through his hair

“I know, but still wanted to do something for you. I love you both so much” I looked at Henry and then back at Chris

“We love you too” 

“With every inch of our being” Henry stated.

I blushed and looked down at my lap, before getting up and taking a seat at the table

“Now, dig in. I hope it’s any good”

“I’m sure it’s absolutely perfect just as you are” Henry placed a kiss on my lips, before grabbing a pierce of french toast.

The breakfast was filled with laughter and comfortable chatter as we enjoyed the cozy morning. Over the course of the meal, I ended up in Henry’s lap and with my feet in Chris’. Henry fed me a strawberry and as I took a bite of the juicy fruit I locked eyes with him and made sure to lick some of the juices off his fingers that held the berry. He groaned at the sight of me and his hand on my thigh squeezed tight.

“Does it taste good baby girl?” Chris asked, and I looked at him with a sultry stare while one of my feet pressed slightly down on his crotch. 

“Mmmhmm.. Taste so good Daddy” My voice sweet and almost moanful

A finger on my cheek pulled my face towards Henry and when we locked eyes, I saw his pupils were completely dilated and then he crashed his lips to mine. The kiss was needy and rough, and soon I felt his tongue ask for entrance, which I gladly gave him, and soon they danced in a twirl of passion. I felt two hands making their way up my big thighs, and a hand in my hair while a fourth one buttoned up the shirt, revealing my naked form underneath

“Shit, baby! You are so hot like this” Chris' voice broke the silence and I pulled back from the kiss, to look at him and give him an equally lust filled kiss. Henry’s lips found their way to my back and began peeling of the shirt

“Fuck! I need you baby!” His large hands grabbed my waist and pulled me away from Chris, much to my dismay that was voiced with a mewling sound.

“Clear the table” Henry commanded Chris, who quickly slid the plates and bowls further up on the table with a force that made some of it fall to the floor with a crash.

Henry lifted me and placed me on the big wooden table, and began his onslaught of wet kisses down my neck, shoulder, chest - where he massaged my breasts with eagerness before licking a hardening nipple and then continuing his path down my body. I moaned at the sensation and my hands made grabby gestures towards Chris

“What baby? You want some of Daddy? Want Daddy to touch you?” Chris said in a mocking tone. I looked wonton at him and pouted while nodding yes

“Ah ah! I need to hear you say what you want baby? How else am I to help you?”

“But DaddyyyYYyyy” I almost screamed as Henry was already between my thighs and had licked a broad stroke up my slit. My hand immediately flew to his hair and my back arched off the table.

I looked at him and his eyes shone back at me with mischief as he pulled my hand out of his hair and gave it to Chris, who quickly took the hint and placed both of my hands above my head in a tight grip.

“Tell us baby. What does our baby girl need?”

I tried to pull my arms to me in hope of touching my Daddies again, but to no avail.

“I want… Oh my god!”  my eyes rolled back, as Henry had found my clit and began sucking on it, which shot waves of intense electricity up my body.

“Come on baby… tell me” Chris’ voice was low and deep and right by my ear, making my senses go into overdrive.

“I want your dick Daddy. I want to taaaaaAAAaaste it” Henry thrusted a finger into my tight pussy and began licking circles around my clit.

“Such a good girl” Chris praised me

He let go of my wrists so I could take out his cock, all the while he began fondling with my boobs. As his big thick cock sprung free I couldn’t help licking my lips, which Chris noticed

“So needy huh? So needy for Daddy’s cock in your mouth”

“Yes Daddy” I answered quickly before licking the precum on his red hard tip. 

“Ah shit! Yes that’s it baby. Take it!” 

Chris kept the assault on my chest and I began bobbing my head down his length while taking him deeper and deeper. 

I was so caught up in the moment of sucking one of my Daddies cocks I didn’t notice the other had stopped eating my pussy out. 

Only when I felt Henry’s thick bulpos cockhead piercing my tight channel, I pulled Chris out of my mouth to let out a loud moan

“Fuck! You are always so tight baby! Gripping Daddy’s cock so hard! You love this, don’t you? Being filled up by your Daddies”

Just as I was going to answer him, Chris thrusted his big dick down my throat, which made my eyes wide and roll back.

Henry then began thrusting his huge cock in and out of me, making me moan around Chris. 

“Shit, that’s it baby! Take it!”

“I love this pussy so much! And look at those fucking big tits! Arrh” Henry grabbed hardly at my boobs and squeezed them as he fucked me harder and harder up the table. Chris began facefuckin me with a hand on the back of my head. 

I just took it! Enjoying the feeling of my Daddies taking what they needed of me, using me. 

With each thrust of each big cock, I could feel my walls tightening and the coil deep within me beginning to wind tighter and tighter.

Henry felt it and one of his hands found my clit and began rubbing it. 

“That’s it! You are our little slut, aren’t you? I can feel your pussy wanting to cum. Wanna cum on Daddy's big dick, huh?"

I tried to respond by nodding while Chris fucked my face.

“Look at our little whore, trying so hard to answer with her mouth filled with dick.”

They both went faster and faster, groaning and moaning profanities while I just mewled as I took everything they gave me. Henry thrusted a bit upright and hit the perfect spot within me and combined with the rapid moment on my clit, I could feel my coil about to snap. I quickly removed Chris’ cock from my mouth, before almost screaming 

“Can I come Daddy? Please? Can I??”

Henry and Chris looked at each other before both in unison said growling “YES” 

Henry pumped his cock in me and as the walls of my slick pussy tightened in a vice like grip, Chris took his dick in my mouth again before brutally facefucking me holding my face in place with his large hands.

With their rough mistraitions I felt the snap from within. Everything went tight and a white light filled my vision as I moaned around Chris, which made him shoot his big load of cum down my throat and Henry snapped his hips so hard as he filled my sore fucked out pussy with his warm seed. 

I swallowed Chris' orgasm and when they both pulled out of me, I couldn't help the whimper that left my lips, both out of soreness but also of sadness of the loss of their warmth filling me.

A hand came to caress my hair and a soft sensation was felt on my forehead. I fluttered open my eyes to see Chris standing over me with a look of absolute love and care.

"Hey baby… you okay?"

"Yeah… in absolute heaven"

I gave him a goofy grin

"Okay..  somebody still in subspace" 

Henry's deep voice came from between my legs, where he stood gently massaging my thighs before his arms came under me and cradled me into his chest

"You are so big. I love you sooo much!" I tilted my head backwards and looked at Chris upside down

"And you tooOooO" 

Chris couldn't help laughing at me and placed a kiss on my chin, making me giggle again.

I felt the softness of our bed under my body, as Henry placed me down, but I held tightly to him not letting go.

"Darling you need to let go so Daddy can clean you up "

I hmpf'ed and shook my head as I buried my face in his neck. 

"Baby…"

He tried again, but as I just held on tighter, he just sat down in the bed with me curled in his lap.

"Okay then. Let's just relax my sweet"

I looked up at him with big eyes and gave a big smile, while my hand caressed his cheek.

He took it in his and placed a kiss in my palm

"I love you Daddy" 

I felt the bed beside me divit and then another pair of hands touched me, and as I looked over I saw Chris looking lovingly at me.

"And I love you too Daddy!" 

“We love you too baby girl”

I looked at both of them, seeing their faces filled with love and satisfaction, I felt so blessed and happy to have my two dream daddies!

Taglist:

@smoothdogsgirl​

[appleteeth]

Bruce Week Fic #6

Sunday (July 25): Grief, Magic

(Warnings for mentions of domestic and child abuse.)

It was funny, being friends with someone who knew magic. Loki had somehow, after everything they had been through, become one of Bruce’s closest confidant on board the spaceship taking them to Earth. First they would merely nod at one-another in quiet respect, then Loki stopped Bruce in the corridor one day to explain how something seemingly innocuous he had done was actually offensive in Asgardian culture and Bruce, though wary he was tricking him, thanked him. 

Then Bruce would make a habit of finding Loki in the makeshift dining hall and sitting with him, not exactly striking up conversation but letting him know they could talk, if he wanted to. 

A few months into the journey and Loki was spotted laughing loudly at something Bruce had said, and whilst it made Thor a little nervous to see them getting along so well, it was also a relief. They were both part of his Royal Council, after all, so they needed to get along for the sake of his people. 

Then, when Bruce moaned to himself about being unable to find what he needed in the cramped medical bay, Loki produced the vial out of thin air and handed it to him. 

“That still freaks me out,” Bruce told him before taking the vial tentatively. 

“I wouldn’t do it if it didn’t,” he said with a smirk.

“How does it work? Are you pulling items from somewhere else? Are you taught how to use magic or is it instinctual? Could I learn magic or is it an Asgardian thing?”

“No, I was taught by my mother and yes… to an extent. You wouldn’t be able to conjure items or control objects but you can learn basic spells.”

Bruce was excited for barely a second before he frowned. “Are you messing with me again?”

“Bruce, I have come to find you… relatively welcome company. I enjoy our conversations, even if you are a Midgardian.”

“Bit prejudiced, but thank you.”

“So I’m not messing with you,” Loki concluded. “I can give you some basic spells to try that will give you more insight into your being.”

“I, uh, think I’ve had enough insight lately," he said warily. 

And Loki smiled, this time without a mischievous glint in his eye. 

"What if I were to teach you a spell that helped you in ways you never knew you needed?"

Bruce snuck into the medical bay late into the evening whilst the rest of the ship went to sleep. It was the one place he knew he wouldn't be disturbed, especially as Asgardians were so resilient to injury, they barely came to him with less than a severed limb. 

He read through the instructions Loki had written in elaborate cursive, mostly in English but certain words wouldn't translate so he had to work through how to pronounce them before starting. It was oddly pleasant following the instructions step by step, like he was trying out a new recipe, only this was more writing specific phrases in runes than measuring out ingredients. 

He had to write the words as naturally as possible, like he had been writing in the language his entire life, recite them outloud and then… go to sleep. Which was easier said than done when he was expecting something miraculous to happen. He crept back into his shared dorm with seven other passengers and lay down, hoping that whatever was supposed to happen would actually help him.

He finally drifted off and there he found himself travelling, not sure what he was facing was a dream or effects of the spell, but welcoming it nonetheless. 

He was standing in an old-fashioned kitchen, meticulously clean down to the top of the cabinets where nobody would ever bother to look. Whoever's domain this was, it was so well looked after it could very well be a showroom. 

There were a few signs of life, however. There was a small stack of plates ready to be cleaned, a few novelty magnets on the refrigerator, a Captain America action figure on the table…

Bruce stopped, looking at the toy and realising where he was. He had spent so long trying to forget his childhood home he didn't even recognise the kitchen anymore. But he knew that toy like it was imprinted on his mind, having spent many hours clutching it, talking to it, wishing the real Cap was there to save him.

"I'm so sorry I kept you waiting, would you like some water?" 

And he spun on his heel to see her. It was so odd to view her now that he was a little taller than her, instead of being small enough to wrap his arms around her legs. She was still as beautiful as the pictures but she wasn't memorialised in his mind like some sort of perfect being. Her sweater was threadbare at the elbows, her hair was a little frizzy (thick curls like his, almost identical in colour) and she had dark circles under her eyes. She also wore glasses, which Bruce had completely forgotten because she took them off for photos. 

"Uh…" he didn't know what to say to her. 

"You must be parched, here," and Rebecca poured him a glass of water from a pitcher she kept in the fridge. "Piping in new houses is never deep enough to keep water cool, not like the old days." 

He was still trying to find words when he realised a vision shouldn't be able to hand him things, and he shouldn't be able to feel the cool water tumbling down his throat. 

"So, you wanted to talk about Robbie?" 

He nearly choked on the last mouthful and hid it with a loud cough. 

"Um, yes," he said, not sure who he was supposed to be in this scenario but going along with it all the same. 

His mother nodded and indicated for him to sit down with her at the kitchen table. Again, it felt so strange to be big enough for a chair he used to sit at every day as a kid, his legs swinging and needing a cushion so he could reach the table properly. 

"His teacher said he's been excelling," she said proudly but then immediately frowned. "You didn't speak to my husband, did you?" 

"No, of course not," and he now knew his role like he had read the script. "Yes, young Br… Robbie has been working really hard and it's clear to see he is clever." 

She smiled, but it was juxtaposed by her sad eyes. "You're going to say he should be in a gifted school, aren't you?" 

"Uh…" 

"Well I'm sorry but he can't. He just… can't." And she sighed tiredly before collecting herself. "I'm sorry, it's just--" 

"I know," Bruce said quietly. "You don't have to explain your reasons. I know you would want the best education for him, but sometimes that can't happen." 

And he couldn't help himself, she was right there in front of him. He put his hand over hers and squeezed it in comfort. 

"Thank you," she said quietly. 

"And it's not like kids won't excel as adults just because they missed out on extra tutoring," he continued. "They'll catch up in no time and go on to do great things." 

She smiled warmly and Bruce recognised his own features in hers. He never thought he looked like her, always hating how he was the spitting image of his father, but he saw himself in her smile. 

"I hope so. Do you know he can name every bird he sees? Even the scientific names. He read about bird watching and within a day he was telling me facts about each one." 

Bruce couldn't help but grin, having forgotten about that particular hyperfixation. "Is that so?" 

"If he could… that is, if we agreed he could go to a gifted school, I suspect he would get a scholarship for college, maybe even go early." 

She looked furious, if just for a moment, letting her guard down enough to show how she really felt. Bruce had never seen her angry; she had hid it well when he was small and already so scared of someone else's anger. She had shown him nothing but smiles and positivity, desperate to make his life as normal as possible. 

But he remembered hearing her crying behind the bedroom door, trying to suppress her sobs so she could go read her child a bedtime story like nothing was wrong. The illusion was shattered that day.

"You are doing everything you possibly can for your son. More than everything. You--"

He stopped himself. Was this really a dream or had he really travelled back? What would it mean if he told her?

"I will lay down my life for him," she finished, eyes defiant and full of fury. 

He felt his facade fading, no longer able to pretend he wasn't who he really was. 

"You're going to save my life. Over and over. Until that bastard kills you for it." 

He cried, clutching her hand and unable to look at her. She shouldn't have sacrificed herself for him. She wasn't supposed to be known as just a wife and mother. She was exceptionally bright in her own right, never one to boast but able to keep up with her husband and nudge her son towards harder sums and thicker books. It wasn't her fault the man who told her he loved her had used that love to control her, to make her feel weak and stupid.

Had she escaped that night, she would have done great things. 

"I know," she said quietly, tears in her own eyes. "I figured I had a shot that night. He usually stays late at the bar and left the car at home, so I thought I had three hours. But I didn't know he had a meeting the next morning and drank a whole bottle of whiskey walking home instead. I miscalculated." 

"It's my fault. You told me to pack but I couldn't find my stupid Captain America toy and…" he wiped his eyes angrily. "I held us up." 

Rebecca reached across the table to wipe the trails of tears from his cheeks.

"You were a child," she said. "It can never be your fault. Hey," and she cradled his face in her hands. "It was never your fault." 

"It wasn't yours either. None of it," he said defiantly. 

She nodded. "Thank you." 

The vision was starting to waver, like an old projection flickering as the film ran out. He clutched her hand desperately, wanting to tell her so much more, to tell her he hadn't wasted the gift she gave him that night. That he had excelled despite everything that happened. That he did everything to make her proud. 

He felt her hand slowly fading, getting lighter in his hand as it faded away. He managed to tell her he loved her before he awoke back on the ship, his face wet with tears. 

The next morning, much to everyone's confusion, Bruce marched straight up to Loki, grabbed him by the shoulder, and hugged him tightly. 

[wkemeup]

Call to Action

inbox request: “hiii i'm really curious what's gonna happen if bucky gets assigned to work undercover again? 🥰“ by @sarge-barnes-sir​ ❤️ pairing: bucky x reader chapter word count: 1.7k warnings: sweet loving angel bucky, kas cant let go of this series yet  a/n: surprise!!! we’re not done with our Sundays yet! I do plan on doing more of these, so keep sending in ideas if you have them!  🌹series masterlist 🌹

You woke to an empty bed; sunlight streaming in delicately from the soft overlay of ivory curtains and the soothing scent of a freshly steeped tea at your bedside, steam still rising from the mug. Stretching your arms up over your head and then out to the sides, you frowned as your fingers curled around the empty sheets beside you.

“You can’t ask me to do that, Steve,” Bucky’s hushed voice carried from the kitchen.

You turned to the door, narrowing your eyes upon the thin crack in its frame. It wasn’t unusual for Steve to be at the apartment, but the clock to your left told you it was far too early for a friendly visit. Judging by the tone in Bucky’s voice, it couldn’t be anything good.  

“It’s not me, Buck. It’s way over my head.”

You quietly pushed aside the sheets, setting bare feet on the hardwood floors and grabbed for the robe hanging over the bathroom door. You slipped it quickly through your arms and wrapped it at the waist before you carefully pushed open the door. Disregarding the state of your hair laying frizzy and untamed at your shoulders, you crept down the hall.

Bucky was pacing in the kitchen, hands clenching at his sides, head shaking defiantly as he muttered under his breath. Steve sat at the table, watching with every stride Bucky took as he laid back into the chair; though the rigidity of his posture betrayed the calm persona he put on.

“I’m not going back under,” Bucky asserted. He didn’t seem to notice you emerge from the hallway as he continued to pace divots into the tile of the kitchen floors, but Steve did. His back straightened, his expression melting into something mirroring an apology as he met your eye.

“I’ve been out for almost a year,” Bucky continued, stare focused on the floor, tunnel-visioned and disregarding Steve’s attempts to draw his attention to you. “I told Fury I was done, Steve. He can’t pull me back in! Hydra was my last job and I’m-- I’m not leaving Y/n after everything we went through. So... So, you can tell Fury to fuck off!”

An unsettling silence took over; only Bucky’s muffled footsteps and labored breaths carrying through. You hadn’t realized how tightly your jaw had clenched until you tried to speak.

“They’re sending you undercover again?”

Bucky froze dead in his tracks, his head snapping up to find you watching him from the hallway. His eyes were wide, lips parted. He uncurled his hands, though it looked as though it ached to do so, and brushed them on his pants. Light blue plaid, white t-shirt with the neck a little stretched out. He was still in his pajamas.

“No,” he answered quickly though it wavered in his voice. He closed his eyes, hearing the hesitancy and he dropped his chin to his chest. He took a minute, found his breath, and when he looked at you again, he softened, a smile pushing up at his lips though it seemed forced. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t think you’d be up so early.”

Bucky made his way to you, his hands gently settling on your shoulders and soothing their way down your arms to encase your hands in his own. You kept your stare on his chest, trying to find something to focus on, and it helped as he squeezed your hands. Something real. Something solid. Bucky.

“I thought you were training recruits,” you murmured.

“I was.” Bucky winced as it came out. “I am.”

“Fury’s used to relying on Buck for this stuff,” Steve explained, slowly standing from his spot at the table. “He wasn’t happy when Bucky stepped down from the field. You’ve got to understand, he lost the guy who’s got more successful undercover OPs than anyone else in the Bureau. Bucky’s good at what he does. He put a lot of bad guy behind bars and saved a lot of lives.”

You knew. Probably more than most people.

“They can’t make him, can they?” You hated how small your voice sounded; frail like a child’s. You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s waist, afraid that if you lost contact with him for even a second, he’d be pulled away. You missed how Bucky glanced back in Steve’s direction for the same assurance.

“No, they can’t,” Steve replied calmly, a slight smile on his lips just barely noticeable.

You nodded, though it didn’t ease the racing in your heart. You held your arms tightly around Bucky, listening for his heartbeat to center yourself. “Do you want to?”

“What? Of course, not,” Bucky replied without skipping a beat. “Why would you even ask that?”

You shrugged. “You’ve saved so many people. You're clearly meant for this work, Bucky. I don’t want to keep you from that.”

You knew what that felt like; to be held from the one thing that made you feel whole, to be pushed into the shadows of a life you were never meant for, to be cast off to something less than what you deserved. It was different from what Brock had done to you, but it still had the same result, didn’t it? You were keeping Bucky from the job he dedicated his life to.

Bucky shifted slightly in his stance and he gently began to pry your arms from around him. It caused a jolt of panic at first, but then his hands soothed their way up your arms, to cup at the side of your face, guiding you to meet his eyes; stunning painted brushstrokes of blues and greys and oceans and summer skies.

“You’re not keeping me from anything,” Bucky told you, a sincerity heavy in his voice. “I promised that nothing would take me from you again and I meant that. I’m not leaving you.”

Your eyes fell downcast, struggling to hold his gaze. “But if I wasn’t around--”

“But you are,” Bucky pressed, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, then the other, then the tip of your nose, until he pulled back with a smile. “I love you, sweetheart. That changes things. Before I met you, I would have taken any case I could get my hands on for the excuse to throw myself into a world that wasn’t my own. I would have jumped at the chance to pretend to be someone else for a while and lose myself in a new identity. But I don’t want that anymore. I want to be here. With you. I want to spend all my days loving you. Is that so much to ask?”

Another kiss to your temple, then your jaw, your cheekbone, until you were smiling again. He was so beautiful when he looked at you like that, like he thought the whole world of a woman who spent so many years told she was nothing.

“I just don’t want you to wake up one morning and feel like you lost something by being with me,” you explained slowly, quietly, and your eyes trailed down to his chest to avoid his eyes.

“Not possible,” Bucky eased and you felt his lips as the touched the crown of your head. “There hasn’t been a morning that’s gone by where I haven’t woken up feeling like I’m the luckiest man alive.”

You looked up at him, awe and wonder, stunned silence, and he gently leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your lips. Steve was still standing in the kitchen, averting his gaze, though he was smiling. Bucky brushed a thumb over your lips as he pulled back.

“Doesn’t matter what I do for a living,” Bucky continued. “You’re by my side. That’s all that matters.”

You grinned up at him, a laugh bubbling under the surface. “But you hate the recruits.”

“I don’t hate the recruits,” Bucky argued, rolling his eyes when Steve began to snicker from the kitchen table. “They’re just little shits that would walk head first into a wall if I didn’t hold their hands.”

He was laughing again, bright and joyful, and tension hanging thick in the apartment began to dissolve away. Bucky turned back to Steve, his arms held tight around you.

“We good, brother?”

Steve nodded, a rare smile upon his face. “Yeah, man.”

“What will you tell Fury?” Bucky asked.

Steve pursed his lips. “Pretty sure if I remember your words correctly... ‘fuck off.’”

Bucky winced. “Maybe not that.”

Steve shook his head, that same carefree smile on his face he reserved for quiet moments like these upon his face. It was really quite sweet when you thought about it. This broad, stoic man with the weight of his team on his shoulders who only learned to let go when he knew it was safe. He cared so deeply for his friends and you were proud that Bucky had someone in his life like Steve.

“Sam’s been itching for his turn in the field for a while now anyway.” Steve shrugged, beginning to gather his things and head to the door. “I’d say it’s about time we break in the new kid to fill his spot. Danvers is a hell of a recruit, Buck. You did good.”

“She won’t take your shit, Rogers,” Bucky teased as he squeezed you a little closer. “Sam's either. Nat will love her.”

“She’ll fit right in.” Steve laughed.

There was a pause, a beat, and Steve held his stance by the door for a moment longer.

“I never thought I’d see a day when Bucky would turn down a job,” Steve said, leaning against the frame. There was a gratefulness in his eyes as he looked at you, a soft smile upon his lips. “It’s nice to see you happy, man. You got a good woman to thank for that.”

Steve nodded at you, an appreciation you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to grasp completely, and you smiled back at him. Bucky chuckled a little, heat rising in his cheeks and he nodded in agreement. As Steve, turned to leave, you felt Bucky press a kiss to your forehead; the little reminders that he was there, that he loved you, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

[mikkomacko]

Dear Daisy 6

Harry enjoys Saturdays. For the past two months, Saturdays have consistently been his day off from patrolling. Occasionally he'll get Sunday or Friday off as well, but he doesn't get his hopes up. It doesn't matter to him. He's completely fine only having Saturday off.

A shop in town (one he's yet to learn the name of because he's still confused by the French language), had a nice leather bound journal he'd bought the first week of being stationed in the city. It's similar to the one he'd left at home, the one he's comfortable with, so it makes writing his letters easy. Which is what Saturday is for. A letter to Daisy, a letter to Anne, a letter to Gemma, and a letter to Niall who's unable to fight due to his old knee injury. Today he gets through Anne's, Gemma's, and Niall's letters quickly. He's addressing one to Daisy when he pauses, recalling the letters she sent last week. Harry quickly flips to a blank page, scribbling the name of a man he's only spoken to a few times.

Dear Robin,

I wasn't sure you'd remember me after all these years. The last time we spoke I was about thirteen, right before my uncle started grooming me on the steel business. I've changed a lot since then which is why it was quite shocking to hear about you from Daisy. She told me of your generosity, a quality I'll always remember you for if the books in my library are anything to go by. I'd like to thank you for taking Daisy in while I'm away and distracting her with the gift of baking. She may not look it, but I know she gets awful lonely when she's left to herself too long. I remember a few years ago, when I was maybe seventeen or eighteen, I'd passed by her near the park where she was sitting in the grass, chatting with a pigeon. Of course I teased her for it. What kind of nutter talks to birds? But she'd gotten flustered and yelled at me, told me birds need friends too. She also mentioned being stood up by a boy from my mum's neighborhood so she was complaining to the bird. It wasn't really my business, as she so snottily put it, but I knew she was continuing to speak me because she was lonely. I suppose I'm glad that Bill whatever didn't show up that day.

I was worried about leaving her. Her family has hurt her. She wouldn't want to spend much time with them. And her friend Summer has taken up a babysitting job so her time with her is limited as well. Knowing she's enjoying her time with you brings me comfort. I can't thank you enough for watching over my love.

She told me of your son's and I'm sad to not know them very well. I'm sure they're just as wonderful as you if not more. Perhaps you could give me their names or where they're stationed and I could keep an eye out for them? I believe it's a fair deal; you watching my family and I'll watch yours?

Wishing you a happy fall and hoping the bakery stays busy,

Harry Styles.

The bakery is a big company in town so he doesn't need to ask for the address. Finishing up that letter and stuffing it into an envelope, a titter of giggles flows through the November air. Harry peeks up through his eyelashes, finding two girls in long coats not so subtly looking at him. A red head one wiggles her fingers at him, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Harry thinks she's the kind of bird they'd put on a postcard around here. With the Eiffel Tower behind her, trees turning autumn shades that compliment her hair. It's a nice picture, but not one he'd like to look at forever. French girls are pretty, but he prefers English. Particularly English girls with frizzy brunette curls and freckles on her nose and cheeks. Light brown eyes that stir like honey and drip warmth into his veins when they look at him, whether it be through tears of frustration or sparkles of adoration.

He ignores the girls, shifting his shoulders under his thick army coat. At least the uniform is warm. Harry turns back to the letter he had started writing to Daisy, teeth sinking into his chapped bottom lip as he continues to scribble.

Dear Daisy,

I've never enjoyed autumn. I find it uncomfortable. That brief period between the peek of life in the summer and the bittersweet end in the winter. The one thing that I do enjoy, is my mother's pumpkin soup. I'm glad Gemma visited you on Halloween and I'm glad you had so many pumpkins. I would say I'm jealous but I think that'd give you an edge over me so I'll admit to nothing. As for the fighter pilot girl, I wish I could have seen her. My father was a fighter pilot and I use to have a photo by my bed of him in his plane. One time I had a dream that my daughter flew planes, crossed oceans and looked down at mountain tops. She might've looked like that girl you saw. I can't know for sure seeing as I'm here and you're there. Again, I won't say I'm jealous, but do you think there's a chance she'll be a pilot again next year?

Anyway, I'm sitting on a bench in the grass around the Eiffel Tower right now and there's two girls watching me as if they'd have a chance. Suppose I should tell them I'm a married lad? Or should I let them dream? I reckon it'd rile you up if I didn't say anything so I'll stay silent. Who's jealous now aye?

Think I'll go to the bakery down the street after this. You've given me an awful craving with that dream of us in our house, dancing as your pies burn in the oven and my roast beef cooks to perfection. One of my bunk mates gets cookies sent to him from his mum. He likes to brag about it. Think ya could send me some oatmeal ones? Oughta show his mum who's boss.

I don't like raisins though. If there's raisins in my cookies I'll have no choice but to divorce you.

Until then, I hope you're staying warm. Niall told me he'd drop by sometime, check the heater and leave some firewood for you. I don't know if you'll need it but there's extra blankets in my closet as well. My nan knitted a nice green one for me a couple years ago. Spilled some tea on it once but it's awful nice. Feel free to use it. It'll keep ya warm at night. Not as warm as me of course, but it should suffice. If it doesn't you can go to the church and complain to my Nan's grave. Tell her Harry sent you and maybe she'll only hit you a few times.

Heard a rumor the other day that if things are still slow around here by December a few of us might be able to go home for a bit around the holidays. Don't get your hopes up too much but know I'm brown nosing the hell out of my sergeant for the next few weeks. It'd be nice to be able to hit you with a snowball. And it'd be nice to spend my first Christmas as a married man with my wife. I promise I'll keep updating you (only if you send me cookies). Don't tell my mum or sister, they'll try writing to my sergeant about sending me home and I don't need him knowing I'm a momma's boy.

I'll dream of you baking cookies tonight, tossing raisins into the trashcan just for me and I hope you dream of me sitting here, getting oggled by some Frenchies. Happy November love, enjoy this time in the twilight zone.

I'll be home soon Daisy, I promise

The Harry Styles x

~

Harry's week has gone by too slowly. Typically, roaming the streets of Paris or cleaning up around the base is enough to keep him from straying but not this week. Everything he does, everything he sees, everything he smells pushes his mind to Daisy. Mopping the kitchen floors reminds him of the day they worked together to clean her room. The trees remind him of how it felt to sit in the backyard with her, listening to her soft breaths as she worked on her blanket. The smell of the bakery, flour and cinnamon, remind him of her warmth and the cold air only makes him long for her even more. He doesn't think he's ever had such a terrible week, so he decides he'll push himself to do more next week. Initiative will definitely earn him a ticket home for Christmas, right?

He tries not to let himself get too discouraged as he collapses onto his cot, fingers clutching to the envelopes he received today as well as the medium sized box addressed to him. He's got a letter from his mother as well as Robin, but it's the one attached to the box that he goes for first.

Dear Harry,

French girls may have cute accents but can they make Robin's famous oatmeal cookies perfectly on their first try? I really hope not because then I've really got nothing going for me. Except for the fact that I've already got your last name of course.

I don't know how often you go see the Eiffel Tower but I'd appreciate a thorough description and rating of it from you please. I'd love to see the Eiffel Tower one day but I think I'd like to see the whole world too. Maybe your daughter will be a pilot and she can fly us all over the planet. If not, I'll have to divorce you myself. Assuming you haven't already divorced me by then. I think it would be funny if we divorced each other all the time. Then we could just keep getting married over and over again. I wouldn't mind it if you wore that suit you wore on our first wedding day. You looked really handsome. I was thinking of dragging Summer to town with me to get our wedding photo. If you're nice I'll send you one. If not, I'll save it for the holidays when you come home. I know you said not to get my hopes up but I also know you. You're a born leader Harry whether you like it not, and I'm positive you'll be allowed home.

I just realized something a bit funny. Home. Home used to be my parents house. The home I grew up in. Then I thought it’d be your house, the one I took over by planting flowers everywhere and actually cleaning. I don’t know what home is right now. I keep telling you to come home but what does that matter if I don’t even know where that is? Maybe I’m overthinking it. I hope you know your home Harry and I hope you’re able to come back to it.

Enjoy the cookies, I put extra extra raisins and love into them.

-Daisy o

Harry heart pounds, teeth biting at his bottom lip as he lays the letter down on his pillow and wiggles his finger under the seal on the box. Tearing it open, he fights back a smile at the smell of cookies that hits his nose. They’re not hot or anything, but they’re relatively fresh and wrapped up in a cute basket with green ribbon.

“What’d ya get Styles?” Pip, a bunk mate, asks from two cots over. Harry pulls the basket out, smirking at the other man.

“Gift from my girl,” he says proudly, chest puffing out “she’s a baker.” Pip chuckles at Harry’s sudden uplifted attitude, peeking at the cookies that do look quite delicious.

"Hope they're better than Frank's wife's." He makes a disgusted face and Harry laughs. Frank only shared his cookies once and they were bloody awful. He's never tried Daisy's baking but he's sure it's better. She's better than every other girl on the planet. How could her cookies not be better as well?

Harry tucks them safely into the little bedside table he has, glancing over her letter one more time because he loves her words before tucking it into the drawer that holds all his letters from her. He can't help but think of her claiming she knows him. If Daisy knew him as well as she thinks she does, then she'd know that his home isn't some silly house. And she'd know that he's her home. He's always been her home.

~

Time is supposed to heal. That's what Harry's always been told. The words first arose after his father died and he has blown them off for a long time. Until they rang true. Because one day Anne stopped crying, and people stopped leaving casseroles at the house, and Gemma started going on dates again, and Thomas showed up to chat with Harry more than he used to.

Time. Harry thinks he's pretty tolerant of time. He'd waited hours to speak to Daisy the first night he met her. He waited years to finally be more than the boy who almost killed her. And he's held onto two big secrets for all these years because he knows she'll need time before she can see him as someone she doesn't hate anymore. Years flew by so months should be a breeze. Right? Harry thinks so, but the two months away from Daisy are agonizing, and they're getting worse as days go by. Since when did November turn from 30 days to 300?

Extra training. Extra shifts. Extra work. Extra letters. Extra sleep. Yet nothing is helping to speed the process. He's gotten snippy (snippier than usual) to the point that he pissed off Frank for saying his wife's baking was "absolute shit" and he snapped at that red head girl in town for batting her eyelashes at him. There's a chance he told her she's skin to something the dog would drag in but he honestly can't bring himself to care at all. He just wants a moment with Daisy. Just one moment so he'll know that she's still is because sometimes he feels like he's been stuck at an army base his whole life and their marriage is all one big dream.

When the final day of November rolls around, Harry breathes a sigh of relief. He tells himself that he'll see her soon although he really doesn't know when soon will be.

He's hunched over a table in the cafeteria, hidden in the corner because he really doesn't want to talk to anyone, with his journal and mail sitting before him. He'd told his mum how hard the days were getting and she started sending letters more often, filling him in on random events and gatherings happening back home. He'd just gotten one yesterday talking about the neighbors starting a victory garden so he's a bit surprised to have another one so soon. Surprised, but grateful.

Dear Harry,

We've gotten more snow this week, enough for Niall to come over to shovel out the driveway for me. He stopped by your's and Daisy's home as well, insisting he help take care of "Harry's gals" as he put it. He's awful nice and I heard he's been checking in on Daisy often which is great.

I know you've really been missing her, and I hope this letter brings you comfort rather than heartache. Daisy is devastated without you. I do believe she's happy when she's at the bakery with Robin which I find simply wonderful, but there's multiple nights where she's shown up at my doorstep. She cries for you a lot, misses you more than I think you know. I think she sleeps better here. I always put her in your old bedroom and she's out like a light.

Please don't worry about her Harry. I'm glad she's come to me. She needs companionship and nurturing, both of which I can give. Know that she's safe and happy in your old room, and she's safe and happy with Robin. I know this may not be the happiest of news, but I want you to focus on the good part. Daisy misses you, and to miss you means she's gotten comfortable with you. She's cares about you Harry. I remember the days where I'd hear nothing but you bellyaching about her hating you. Think of how far you've come Harry, and use that happiness when things are tough.

We're all watching over Daisy and taking care of her. Now you take care of yourself, you've got a family waiting for you. I love you very much Harry, and I'm so proud of you.

-Mom

Harry's chest aches, bones collapsing with the image of his sweet Daisy dripping rain, crying in the middle of his mother's living room for him. He knows she's shy, and that she had a hard time being comfortable around his family. Not that he blames her. She was practically forced into the Styles family, so to know that she actually sought out Anne is heartbreaking. He's only ever seen cry a handful of times, all of them his doing, and the most dreadful time were her tears at their engagement party. She had looked so small and afraid, so desperate for safety that he genuinely hated himself at the time too. Because he did that to her. Well, not exactly, but he didn't fix the problem that was caused by his recklessness.

He can see that same look in her eyes. The one that came to mind when he was signing up for the army. Doe eyed, vulnerable, sweet, and innocent. Too precious for him to risk being hurt. He supposes he'd rather being crying over him than being crying over someone else's cruelty. At least if it's his fault he knows she's still safe. He'd never hurt her, not like the world would. Not like secrets between family members, and arranged marriages, and a German army would. No, he only teases her. It's his own stupid but relatively harmless way of getting back at her. She's been breaking his heart for years. He thinks it's fair that he gets to fluster her enough to tears sometimes.

But he never wanted her devastated and broken by his absence. Maybe he did his job too well. He somehow got her to be romantic with him after a decade of nothing but hatred. He cared for her, nurtured her, but then he had to leave, and that sheltered place he created for her left. He hopes she can find some sense of peace with his mother. Anne's always been the best mother anyone could ask for and Daisy could use that love right now.

Folding the letter back up, Harry decides he doesn't want to keep this one. While he feels appreciated and cared for because Daisy actually misses him, he doesn't want to have to be reminded of her teary eyes every time he comes across it. Harry's crumbling the letter up when another envelope is being thrown in front of him, smacking against the table top.

"What's this?" Harry asks gruffly, because the envelope is blank and thick so it couldn't have come in the mail. He looks up, heart jumping nervously when he's met with the eyes of his sergeant.

"Ticket home Styles," he says, lips quirking up under his thick mustache. "you've earned it. Taken on more work than necessary here. And I here you got a bird back home that doesn't want to spend Christmas alone."

Before Harry can say anything, sergeant is turning on his heel and heading towards the door. Harry stares in shock at the envelope, heart thumping in his ears. Pip had to have told sergeant about Daisy because that's the only guy Harry's ever talked to her about. After snapping at those French girls, he'd sat Harry down and told him to him everything. And he had. And now's he's got his ticket to Daisy. His ticket home.

[druddigoon]

SwSh Scraps

[leon&hop. an examination of the dysfunctional, adulation-based relationship of brothers, from the perspective of the older brother who’s always gone]

Leon was in a commercial shoot when his brother was born. 

Phones weren’t allowed in the studio; Oleana, pin-straight and proper, stood sentinel outside with his in her hands. 

“Congratulations,” she had said, handing it to him. “you’re a brother.” 

Leon stared. On the screen was the puckered face of a newborn baby, swaddled in stark hospital linens. Dark hair, olive skin, little button nose--he would’ve thought it was one of those awkward baby pictures his mum hung around if not for the text on the bottom: You’re a big brother now, Lee!

He scrolled down his notifications. 5 missed calls. 

“Come on,” Oleana’s hand was choking on his back. “We need to fly you to a conference in five minutes. You can call later tonight.”

“Rose is a better father than you ever were!” a younger Leon screamed, voice cracking at the edges. Rose didn’t police his bedtime or judge his choice of breakfast foods, Rose bought him everything he wanted; Rose was the reason he was here instead of working a dead-end job in a backwater town, not her. 

“Lee?” Hop’s voice, deeper than he last remembered and cracking at the edges. It takes him a second to recognize it. “What’s going on? Why are you calling me?” 

“Hop. I’ve cleared my schedule for the weekend. Tell your mum I’ll be arriving in Wedgehurst on Saturday, in the afternoon, maybe later if the train runs late. I’m--”

I’m coming home.

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

[piers&marnie. the second installment of the darkest day au, which i actually plan on returning to since it’s near and dear to my heart]

Spikemuth is a city of elegies. 

She wears them like anchors, the fading note of a once illustrious mining boom, now home to families with nowhere else to go; everyone carries a little bit of her burden, tragedies wormed under haggard skin, between rusted chain-link fences and across boarded up doors with holes for handles. Shared secrets too volatile to taste air. 

For Marnie, the tragedy is this: 

Piers never wanted to be a gym leader. 

She remembers her bro’s face inked across the headlines of the Daily Galar, a younger Piers wearing his uniform and a smile and short hair with no shadows beneath his eyes.

I’m very grateful to have the privilege of representing Spikemuth here, her bro was cited as saying, And I’m thankful for everyone there who has supported me through thick and thin. Especially my sister, Marnie. 

Finalist contender--she’d watched fraying tape records of the matches, up until his defeat at the hands of the champion. He still has his badges, golden plate propped up in a display case in his office, along with his league pictures; every year, he takes it out to polish. 

The gym challenge was popular, the crown jewel of the Galar region. And everyone loved the underdog, a contestant in battered hand-me-downs and legs too long for his body, who fought as if the crowd was his rhythm, who swept through the competition without a single dynamax. His notoriety gave Spikemuth a much needed boost, and companies began investing again, seeing promise in these run-down streets like they eyed the boy streaking through the circuit. 

 When her bro lost, he returned home a hero.

The thing about challenger fame is that it never lasts. The gym challenge resets every year, bringing in a fresh wave of contestants drawn by the distant possibility of glory, who will fight and hurt and lose to try and rise up on top. Soon enough, everyone fades into obscurity. 

And Spikemuth did too. Investment dried up. Infrastructure deteriorated. Nothing lasted forever, and back then, the city seemed to be nearing its twilight years. 

Marnie remembers the day Rose knocked on their door, remembers the towering man wielding showy words like “vacancy” and “opportunity” from her hiding spot behind her bro’s legs, how he presented the offer like gift but discussed terms like debt. 

Somewhere along their negotiations, her bro was crowned gym leader. 

They didn’t have a dynamax spot, couldn’t even afford a gym, but after her bro’s candidacy was announced everyone threw a huge potluck in his honor--pooled their savings for a new microphone stand and speaker system, after his old one wore down. 

When her bro sang, his music reverberated into the audience like hope. 

Once they’re alone again, Piers had slumped against a creaky chair, pulled out a cigarette and lit it with shaking hands. Marnie remembers yanking the package from his fingers, taking note of the brand--the same one their late father used. 

“Since when did you smoke?” She asked. 

Piers had smiled bitterly. “Not too frequently, though I’ve been gettin’ a habit lately. Sorry you have to see this, little sis.” 

He took a drag before exhaling. The smoke billowed out like miasma, rising into the darkened sky. Another followed, then another, until she couldn’t tell the difference between cloud and smoke.

“Bein’ a gym leader is no easy feat, and I doubt I have the stuff for it,” Her bro finished his cig, flicking it onto the streets, “But what else can I do? This old place needs somethin’.” 

He was Spikemuth’s hero, and Spikemuth was his burden. 

Marnie remembers lingering on the cig, watching embers unfurl against cold hard concrete, before they flickered out.  

When Marnie opens the door, she hardly recognizes her brother standing outside alone, soaked to the bone, hair slick against his head and looking like the wind would blow him over. To her, big bro was always the person who stood by her, who could lift the world for her on days when she’s too weak to stand, who could shelter her when she was nothing but dark clouds and rain. 

But part of growing up is realizing the people you look up to are not perfect, have their own chips and cracks in their armor. Big bro is the boy who used to throw her up in the air even when it hurt his arms, slip her candy when their parents weren’t looking; Big bro is also the teen who would be protective to the point of suffocation, the forlorn man beyond her steps with a plea in his eyes. 

"We only have each other," Piers murmurs.

Marnie closes her eyes. His hair is just like she remembers: soft and frizzy and just a little bit stiff from the hair products, the faint whiff of his favorite dollar store cologne he'd always had stocked up. Cold, clammy skin, but she can feel the press of his heartbeat amid the quiet rumble of his voice; and like modulation she's six again, curled up in the contour of her brother's arms as he sings her storms away.

She takes a deep breath. Steels herself. 

Then she pushes him, hard.

"Idiot!" Someone's yelling. Is it her? She recognizes her voice but not the raw, seething edges of her words, the staccato hitch at the ends. "Y-you've been leadin' a city since I was in primary, and when other people need you most the only thing you think about is us? Were those years, was-does this legacy you passed down to me mean anything to you?"

Piers manages to steel himself before his ass hit concrete (or maybe the push wasn't as hard as she thought, some sentimental part of her holding back). He's not mad. It's somehow worse. "Not all people need or want the same thing, achievable things, Marn. It means I've learned to pick my battles."

And the battle he fights is against me.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter thirty two: that man is on fire

heh. what a way to end souls of black and go into veritas, gang. probably the most explicit chapter of them all, but not enough to warrant a change of rating all together, though. really big smut warning regardless 😘

Sam rolled over in her bed and for a second, she swore that she was still within her dream about the mysterious man. She had hardly any memory of the dream whatsoever but all she knew was he stood there before her like a shadow. She could only feel him over her body, right over her feet. But she swore that she had dreamed about him: it was the first time in a while she had dreamed about him, and the first time in an even longer while where she had dreamed about him and she couldn't recall any other part of it.

She caught the soft strumming of acoustic strings on the edge of the room and she lifted her head for a better look at Alex there. His hair was a disheveled frizzy mess and the minute tuft of gray stood up over his brow like a little radio antenna. The gray morning light through the window on the side of the room cast a shadow over one side of his face, as if he wore half of a mask. He reached down to the low stool right next to the chair and he picked up a glass of what looked like liqueur.

“Happy Hanukkah, Samantha,” he greeted her as he raised his glass to her. “Early Hanukkah, actually—it starts when the sun goes down tonight.” She had hardly any memory of him walking in that room. She also had hardly any memory of him being there in the room with her the night before.

“Alex, what are you doing here?” she asked him as she reclined up on her elbows. The bed sheet covered her otherwise bare chest: the only clothes she wore under the covers were in fact her panties and some little shorts that she had dug up upon going down the Central Valley to stay with her mother for a bit before she returned up to her father's house. Alex sat there in the chair with his guitar cradled in his lap and that glass in one hand.

“Alex—” Sam sputtered. “Alex, why are you drinking at this time of the morning?”

“This is iced coffee,” he replied as he held the glass close to his lips.

“Oh—I thought it was liqueur,” she confessed.

“Nah, your mom's got that dessert wine but there's none of that here.” He took another sip from the glass and then he set it back down on the stool next to his feet. He sat upright once again and ran his fingers through his inky black hair: the morning light shone upon the little tuft over his forehead so it resembled to an icicle. He strummed the fine nylon strings of that black acoustic guitar some riff that she hadn't heard of yet.

“Damn it—” he muttered, and he tried it again.

“Damn it!”

“What is it?” she asked him as she sat upright and pulled her knees up towards her chest.

“Eh, Greg threw this riff out at me before we left for L.A. last night,” he explained. “It was a bass riff, though, so I'm not sure as to how to translate it over to an acoustic guitar. All I know is you go like this—”

He plucked the strings with the point of his pick: it almost sounded as though the strings were skipping. He played it for about five seconds and then he turned one string sideways.

“I feel like it'd sound better plugged in,” she remarked.

“Agreed,” he said as he clasped his fingers across the fret board to silence his guitar. His eyes drifted down to her chest: she looked down herself, at her nipples as they poked out a bit from underneath the bed sheet. She looked up at him and the little bit of skin exposed from his button up shirt. Two buttons undone and it was all she needed to see for herself as he leaned over for his glass of iced coffee.

“There's another band from New York that we haven't met while on tour,” he told her.

“Oh?” She raised her eyebrows at that.

“Yeah. They're called Death. I just think about the Cherry Suicides' early Christmas card to us—the mention that they might be marketed as a 'death metal' band. That's where that term came from—from a band from New York called Death. I hear they're cool guys, though.”

“Bands from New York to be as such,” she noted and he shook his head about before he took another, much heartier swig of coffee.

“Also, your mom definitely has the hots for me,” he said in a low voice.

“Not surprised,” she confessed with a shrug of her shoulders.

“She has the hots for me. Of all people.”

“Again, I'm not at all surprised, Alex.”

“Why's that?” he asked her as he took another sip of the iced coffee and she let the sheet slide down her breasts a bit.

“Whoa—easy there,” he teased her with a wag of his finger.

“You know, I just woke up,” she scoffed at him.

“Still—easy there,” he teased her. “You also didn't answer my question. Why are you not at all surprised?”

She could see it in his eyes, especially once she tugged the sheet back up over her chest. She knew what he was thinking by a mere glimpse into those deep eyes.

“Why are you not at all surprised?” he asked her in a near whisper.

“Because she's an erotica writer,” she replied, and he squinted his eyes at her before he took another sip of his coffee.

“There's gotta be more than that,” he said, his voice still down in a near whisper.

“There is nothing more than that, though,” she retorted.

“Samantha,” he said.

“Alex,” she echoed him.

“Samantha.”

“Alexander.”

“Samantha Rose.”

“Alexander Nathan.”

“Rose.”

“Nathan.”

“You're good,” he said with a wink.

“So are you!”

“Anyways, Samantha, how long has it been since you've seen Joey?”

“A while. Since we came back from the tour. I think about him.” She froze. “Why?”

“Just curious,” he replied in a small voice and he took another sip of coffee.

“I sent him a care package,” she told him.

“Mmm?” He raised his eyebrows as he downed the rest of that iced coffee.

“One of my Death Angel shirts, some sugar cookies, and a little piece of—erotic art.”

Alex held the glass before his chest and he looked down at her chest once again, albeit from clear across the room. He set the empty glass down on the stool right next to him once again.

“Whipped it up right on the spot,” she continued, “I know he'll be pleasantly surprised upon seeing it for himself. A nice li'l aphrodisiac for Christmas and for the new decade if he so wishes. It's art, after all. It can't hurt anyone.”

“By the way, did you know coffee is an aphrodisiac?” He raised his eyebrows at that.

“Oh, yeah?” she asked him.

“So is chocolate. Tomatoes, oysters, chili peppers and I think—some teas are, too.”

“Mother Nature knows what we want,” she said to him in a singsong voice. “All the plants and creatures.”

“Speaking of plants—I got to reading about this sort of thing, just 'cause you and Louie's whole thing about poison plants and whatnot—there's a plant called 'angel's trumpet', and it's an aphrodisiac right before it kills you.”

“Hot,” she said.

“Apparently, it's also a member of the nightshade family,” he continued, and he raised his eyebrows at that. The mention of nightshade made her stop right in her tracks. She sent that care package to Joey and she hoped he had gotten it in the meantime. “I also read about the Wandering Jew, too—the plant, that is.”

“Is that an aphrodisiac?” she asked him with a sly smirk.

“Nah. Makes you itchy, but—” He shrugged. “You know. That word right there is all contingent on your interpretation of it.” He then gave his hair a slight toss back with a flick of his head. “Apparently, that plant also helps with stomach pains. And it changes color when exposed to pollutants.”

“Makes you itchy, helps your tummy, and tells you when shit's about to go down—that sounds like you and me,” she said, to which he chuckled.

“And it's called the Wandering Jew, too,” he added as he plucked at the strings again. He gasped and his face lit up.

“What?”

He plucked again and that time around, he had the riff in the palm of his hands. It wandered and ground around and tempted fate, and it all coalesced right there on the acoustic guitar upon his lap. Sam lightly clapped her hands together and he nodded his head and gritted his teeth out of excitement.

“That's our titular track!” he declared.

She slid out of bed and hurried over to him with her arms wide open. He cracked her a nervous smile and he kept his gaze locked onto her face.

“Something else is titular!” he added, as she embraced him right there.

He looked down at her chest, at those pointed nipples and her bare stomach.

“You like what you see here, Alejandro?” she teased him.

“You did just wake up after all,” he pointed out.

“Hey, now, it's usually you with the wet dreams,” she hit back at him.

“Girls can get 'em, too—so I'm told anyways.”

“How do you find out about these things? You seem so innocent.”

“Samantha, as I've said before—when you're this smart and you grow up isolated and sheltered, you're going to have questions as you get older and things below the belt start doing their thing. You've also seen me on acid—and you've seen me drunk. I'm not even close to innocent.”

Sam lowered her gaze to his chest and the guitar cradled upon his lap. She lifted her gaze back up to his face, right as he bowed his head which accentuated the depth of his eyes.

“I know what you're thinking,” she told him in a hushed voice.

“What am I thinking?” he teased her.

“You're thinking what I hope you're thinking.”

He snorted at that.

“Do you know what I'm thinking?” she asked him.

“I hope I do?” he said as he lowered his gaze to her chest again.

“You like what you see here?”

He reached up and undid a couple more buttons on his shirt, which in turn showed off some more of that milky skin on his chest.

“I should ask you the same thing,” he said in a husky voice. He then set the guitar down on the floor next to him, and he undid the rest of the buttons on his shirt so he exposed his whole upper body to her. His waist was slender but slightly thick still.

As far as she knew the two of them were alone at the house together.

“You're hot,” she noted. “I never thought anyone would be so hot before but you definitely are.”

“So are you,” he retorted back to her.

“You wanna go on the bed or here on the floor?” she asked him.

“The bed—I want to be surrounded by you and—everything that makes up you. I want you to suffocate me for being so bad.”

He let his shirt dangle wide open as she led him back to her bed. She lay back down on the warm spot there on the mattress.

“What'd you say that plant was?” she asked him as he climbed onto the bed next to her. “The one that's an aphrodisiac before it kills you?”

“Angel's trumpet,” he repeated. “Yeah, I'd like for you to touch my angel's trumpet.”

“Not if I make you touch my angel's trumpet first,” she teased him as she opened her legs for him. He showed her a devilish grin as he loomed right over her body.

“Alex—Alex—are you drunk?”

“No—why would I be drunk?” he asked her, confused.

“Well, 'cause we usually fool around when you've had a few,” she pointed out.

“Well, what if this time around, I wanted to be sober? I want to be sober and relish in it.”

He leaned over her body: his skin was smooth and soft to the feeling. His body itself was so warm from the coffee, and from sitting there nestled in a corner with his guitar.

“You smell of coffee,” she whispered to him.

“Good—” he whispered back to her in between kisses on her lips.

He was on top of her. Their whole thing was that he lay underneath her. But she let him kiss her on the neck and all over her chest. She felt herself tightening up when he sat upright: the crotch of his shorts hung right above her own. A pair of mere pieces of fabric separated themselves from each other.

Alex peeled off his shirt all the way and she eyed his body.

“You still wanna draw this absolute wreck here?” he asked her as he pointed to his bare chest.

“You are not a wreck, baby,” she insisted. “Far from it. Look at you! Look at how gorgeous you are! I wanna make love to this beautiful body and then draw it up.”

“We're gonna be doin' more than making love, dearest Samantha.”

She reached up and ran her fingers down his chest and his stomach all the way down to his shorts.

“So soft,” she noted.

“Soft!”

“Quite soft. Like caressing silk. Silk compared to the iron making up your arms.”

He inched back so he was between her legs. He peeled back her shorts so her bare thighs and hips were exposed to him.

“Gonna be playing around with an angel's trumpet right here,” he joked with a little gyration of his head. He ran his tongue over the top row of his teeth as he peeled back the fabric some more.

“Eight ball in the corner—” He showed her a devilish grin at that.

Those lanky fingers slipped inside. Sam gasped at the sensation there. She gazed into those deep eyes: those eyes as cold as the snowstorm that stranded them at Lake Tahoe for a whole night and that little tuft of gray hair high above his brow like what awaited her right between his legs.

Where was this side of him all along.

Alex bowed his head and brought his lips back to her bare chest once again. She closed her eyes. He kissed her and fingered her at the same time: the aroma of coffee was still very much riddled about him. To think that there was a poison plant in existence that got the motor going right before it killed its victim.

He ran his hand down her sides to feel the full curvature of her body.

“Mmm—”

“You like what you feel here, big boy?” she teased him.

“And you think I have nice curves,” he teased back at her between kisses.

“You do!”

She ran her hands over his lower back and all around his waist.

“Milk and cookies,” he breathed into her ear.

“Milk and cookies, baby,” she breathed back to him.

“Poison garden,” he added.

“Poison garden!”

He buried his face into her chest.

All so deadly and so hot at the same time.

Joey burst into her mind right then. The venom of which he crawled out from himself. Alex emerged from the cold earth and the rustling leaves of the Wandering Jew.

It was going to be something going into the New Year caught up between these two young men. She remembered Joey was literally going to turn thirty the next October. Him at thirty and Alex at twenty two the next September.

Two young men on either side of her in this strange messy game called life. And all she had for either of them was her paint brush and the work of her hands.

She reached down to Alex's waist, down his shorts. He whimpered a bit at the feeling of her fingers upon him.

He then fell right onto his back, right next to her. Breathing hard, he opened up his body for her.

“What?” she asked him, out of breath herself.

“Get on top of me,” he said in a broken voice.

“Get on top of you.”

“I want you to do it to me,” he begged her as he pushed his shorts down his legs. “I picked the bottom. Make me into a man, Samantha. Turn me from a bad boy to a man.”

She sat up and tossed her hair back from her neck before she climbed on top of Alex's hips.

“Gotta be careful,” he advised her in a broken voice.

“As long as neither of us are sick, we've got this,” she assured him.

“No, I mean, I didn't bring protection. I didn't think you'd want a nice wake up call.”

“We'll be okay, I promise. Something about the rawness, too.”

She was already down over him. Lucky for the both of them, her bed had no springs. She kept her knees flat on either side of him.

“Mama—” he blurted out.

He pinched his eyes shut and he gritted those prominent teeth. A part of her wanted to hold onto that gray streak but she knew it was too small right then. All she could was focus on it as she moved about. Her knees flat on the surface of the bed. Her legs wide open for him.

“Mama—Mama!” he gasped.

“You like that, baby?” she teased him.

“Let me just—I—what—what the hell—FUCK—”

The only thing she could see was the look of euphoria on his face. She could only feel him, and she could only feel him more with each and every gyration. He let out a soft groan.

She lifted up just in time, and by the mere skin of her teeth.

“I oughtta spank you for that,” she teased him.

“For what?” he asked her in a broken voice.

“For coming.”

“For coming or for coming?”

“Both.”

“Shit,” he said in a broken voice.

“I'm gonna let you touch my girls first,” she said as she crawled over his body again. Her bare chest loomed over him. “Go ahead.”

“My fingers or my teeth?” he sputtered as he ran his fingers through his jet black hair.

“Whichever one you want, baby.”

Those calluses caressed over her bare skin and then he hoisted himself up onto his elbows for her. Those lips. That tongue. Her skin. His skin.

She thought about the times she put her lips around Joey and also Greg. It was only fair for him to have at it as well as her.

Before he got any further, she crawled back around him so she was wide open for him.

“Jesus Christ—!” he sputtered.

“Drink up, baby doll,” she croaked back at him. “Drink your poison.”

She brought her mouth down on him and he returned the favor for her.

For a few seconds, they had coalesced better than that acoustic riff he had played for her. Drinking up each other's milk and having their cookies at the same time in the poison garden.

His body was warm, almost too warm the more she felt him up.

He was so warm, away from the cool appearance of his face and those deep set eyes. So warm as if he ran a fever.

He was running a fever with each lick on her skin. She was running a fever with each caress of his flesh.

A fever that burned with the both of them like a fire. That man was on fire right underneath her.

He gasped and whimpered with the feeling. She groaned in her throat with each run of her tongue. She was going further than she did with Joey, even though she owed it to him as well. She was going further than she did with Cliff, too.

Alex let out a soft moan from the back of his throat. She lifted up right as she had a small taste.

Sam rolled over, off of his body and back onto the bed. She hoisted herself up onto her elbows and she gazed right into his face.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he parted his lips for her. Sam crawled over his body and planted a little kiss there on his lips.

“We did it, baby,” she breathed to him in a broken voice.

“We—fucking did it. Quite the way to go into the New Year, that's for sure.”

“Happy Hanukkah,” she said.

“Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, and welcome to the Nineties, Samantha.”

“Hold still,” she encouraged him, and she rolled off of the bed and headed over to the other side of the room for her journal and her pencil.

“Oh, I see,” he muttered in a broken voice, and then he frowned at her. “Did I—did I cream on you earlier? When you riding me like a horse?”

“Nah—I'm gonna have more cream in my coffee than you gave to me back there.”

Still completely nude, Sam stood there with her journal right before her. The sole light came from the window on the other side of the room, but it was enough for her to sketch out his euphoric, slightly sleepy face and his disheveled jet black hair, the latter of which was spread out on either side of his head like the tentacles of an octopus. His shirt was wide open, all around his otherwise naked body.

Beautiful milky skin. The way the light caressed over his delicate waist: even after a month, he still had the vampire bite she gave him next to his belly button.

She would have to use her lighter and harder of pencils for the shading around his hip bones and the lower part of his belly.

“Yeah—yeah, curves in all the right places, Alex,” she teased him.

“I oughta just get you for that.” He was slightly scorn, and she giggled at him for that.

“Remember, I said I should spank you,” she recalled as she ran the side of the graphite over the outline of his hip.

“Spank me—bite me—fatten me up—and you're the one who's baffled by me,” he teased her.

“It's all 'cause I wanna please you as well as me,” she confessed to him. She then set the journal back down and she crawled back onto the bed next to him. She put her arms around his waist and he put his arm around her.

Her heart with Joey. Her ventures with Alex. She had definitely ascended to the level of the art vixen at that point.

And then she woke up. She was back at her mother's house and for all she knew, it was the morning before the first night of Hanukkah.

Alex was gone.

“No,” she muttered. “He can't be—he can't be the mysterious man. There's no way.”

It was so real to her. She swore that he was there right above her. He was right there. He was right there with his fingers right between her legs. He did it to her and she returned the favor to him.

They made love to each other's bodies.

She was sure of it.

Indeed, she shifted her legs. She was still damp right in between there. Still damp as a sponge. Still sore from where he fingered her with those calluses. She was still completely naked.

She spotted her journal still in place there. She climbed out of bed and opened it to that page.

That drawing still there, and yet she didn't sign it because she would come back to it. The look of sexy euphoria on his face. The way the sketchy graphite accentuated the shape of his body. The way the bed sheet draped all around his hips and thighs, and the way his open shirt made him even more gorgeous. She could still feel him. She could still feel his warmth. His fever.

How she yearned to feel Joey again, however.

Two men with raging fevers, about to rage even more for her. These two men were about to burst into flames for her.

And she had the art to prove it as well.

But she made the promise to never tell anyone about the whole affair between her and him. She knew he wouldn't say anything about it to anyone, either, especially since her mother had her eyes on him all the while. She couldn't hardly speak about Joey with him, either, albeit not without a distant look on his face.

She couldn't tell either one about the other. She couldn't anyone about either of them.

Not a soul.

[purplesurveys]

1252

A - Appearance.

What are you wearing? I have a gray turtleneck and brown shorts at the moment.

What are on your feet right now? I never wear anything for my feet when I’m at home.

What color are your fingernails? I say this a lot on surveys but mine are never painted. Nothing against them, I’ve just never felt the need to spend on something like my nails.

What does your hair look like right now? I have apple hair at the moment to temporarily get rid of my bangs, which I am more than sick of at this point.

B - Best Friend

Who is your best friend? Angela and Andi.

What was the last thing you two did together? The last time I saw Angela we went to the BTS pop-up store. I haven’t seen Andi since January, but when we hung out that evening we just had Korean barbecue and we also parked somewhere in UP to just talk about life in my car. My breakup had been fresh at the time and back then I just needed someone to whom I could vent.

What is (s)he doing right now? I’m sure Andi’s doing something with Leigh, maybe having a video call or something since I think they tend to have one every evening. I’m not sure what Angela’s up to but considering her replies have been a bit slow tonight, I guess she’s somewhat busy at home.

Are you talking to her/him online right now? Angela just replied to something I sent her around 15 minutes ago but the exchange wasn’t meant to be a full-blown conversation, if that’s what you mean.

C - Crush.

Who is (s)he? Eh, I don’t have a crush these days; too obsessed with work to figure out what I find attractive lmaooooo. I do have a main celebrity crush and I might just cite them instead so that I can at least fill this section out. 

What does (s)he look like? Curly hair; mismatched eyes; moles underneath his right eye, on his nose, and on his lower lip, and the widest smile I’ve seen on any person.

What was the last thing you two talked about? He’s a celebrity crush...

Does (s)he make you smile? Yes.

D - Dad

What’s your dad’s name? Edgardo.

What does he do for a living? He’s an executive chef for a luxury liner company. He hasn’t worked in a year and a half due to the pandemic and has stayed in the country this whole time, but we’ve *very* recently been informed that he can go back abroad in around two weeks! Of course it will suck letting go of him again after having him back for such a long time, but I’m just glad the family can finally be on track again, financially speaking. It had been something I’ve been worrying silently about.

What was the last thing you two did together? Had dinner last night, but we did that with the whole family too. We don’t really do things that’s just the two of us.

Do you get along better with him than your mother? Yes.

E - Ebay.

Have you ever bought anything from ebay? No. I’m not sure we have eBay here anyway.

Do you just shop around when you’re online? I don’t really shop ‘around.’ I usually have an idea of what I want to get myself, and it’s just a matter of finding the right shop from which to buy.

Do you know anybody who is addicted to it? I know a couple of co-workers who love shopping, like Gabi.

Have you ever sold anything on it? I’ve never tried selling, but I’m actually in the middle of doing something for the very first time – I’ve decided to get into trading! I got my BTS Butter album yesterday but didn’t get to pull the photocard I was vying for – the pull I got, though, was of the most popular member, which means it would be a very easy trade. I put the trade offer up the other day and I finally got a match yesterday.

F - Facebook.

When was the last time you logged on? Like five minutes ago. I constantly check it.

How many friends do you have? Just checked and it says I have 686. I wanna get rid like half of them though.

Do you hate when your facebook chat messes up? Hmm, that doesn’t really happen.

Who was the last person to leave you a wall post? Angela.

G - Google.

Do you Google everything? Yeah, I think I look up a random item or phrase at least once a day. Doesn’t hurt to learn a new thing each day. :)

What was the last thing you Googled? The K-Pop group g.o.d., since my teacher mentioned them in our Korean lessons earlier.

Would you ever trade Google in for Bing? No, I haven’t used Bing in like 12 years.

What do you Google the most? Synonyms, I think, since I’m constantly writing for work.

H - Hair.

Do you like your hair? It’s a love-hate relationship most days because I hate how thick and frizzy it can be...but I recently had mine trimmed all the way up to my neck and for some reason it’s taken on a wavy form, which I didn’t expect to come out at all. And I’ve found that it actually suits me quite a bit, so I’m enjoying my hair for now.

What color is your hair? Black.

What does it look like right now? Slightly damp since I took a shower not too long ago.

What kind of shampoo for you use? Just a normal Dove one.

I - Ibuprofen 

When was the last time you took ibuprofen? I don’t think I’ve ever taken it? I usually take paracetamol...idrk the difference either. Do you rely on it for everything (cramps, headache)? I only ever take medicine for headaches/migraines.

Are you so thankful people made it? I mean sure, I’m glad there are those who have been able to create products that can instantly relieve pain or discomfort, but I’m not obsessively grateful.

Do you have any right now? I don’t think we have any.

J - Jobs.

Do you need a job? Nah, I already have one.

Where do you work? Media/PR industry.

Where would you work? I wouldn’t change jobs/industries. This is where I wanted to end up in, and I’m really really glad and fortunate to have landed here on my first shot, right out of college, and during a pendemic.

How much money would you like to get paid? An additional P5k (~$100) would probably be more satisfying, but considering my parents aren’t the traditional Filipino parents who suck 100% of my earnings right out of me the second payday comes, I’m able to enjoy a substantial chunk of money to myself, give them a portion of my earnings, and still be able to save.

K - Kissing.

Who was the last person you kissed? That would be my ex.

Will you next kiss be a mistake? I have no idea when that would be and with whom it will be shared, so I won’t be able to give you a definite answer.

Do you kiss someone everyday? Other than my dogs, nah.

Who was your first kiss? The aforementioned ex.

L - Love.

Who do you love the most in your life? My best friends. I’m also doing a whole lot better in the self-love department these days, so that too :)

Have you ever been in love before? Yeah.

Does it make you so happy when you feel the feeling of love? Sure. It feels light and comfortable, especially when it’s shared.

Why is this word so hard to describe? Because everyone feels love differently. < There we go.

M - Mom.

What is your mom’s name? Abigail.

What is she doing right now? She was watching The Good Doctor the last time I checked on her like five minutes ago. It’s her latest obsession.

Where does she work? She works in the food and beverage department of a 5-star hotel in the city.

Do you two shop together a lot? I rarely do my shopping with either of my parents.

N - Netflix.

Do you have Netflix? Technically, I guess. My dad pays for it and we have a family account.

If not, what movies would you order? I don’t think I’ve ever ordered a movie before. Before streaming on Netflix, I just used to get illegal torrents lol.

Do you rent a lot of movies? I’ve never rented a movie. Was too young for it, I think.

Do you have the tool where it just downloads to your tv? No.

O - Ohio.

Is this the state in which you live in? I don’t even live in the US. Never been there either. < Same.

Is Ohio State your favorite football team? I don’t like football.

Did you know Ohio Is For Lovers? I’m not familiar.

Have you ever been to Ohio? See first answer in this section.

Q - Quitting.

What was the last thing you quit doing? Practicing on Duolingo. I had an extremely short period of using the app again a couple of months ago, but I lasted all of two days hahaha I had been trying to get back on learning Korean, but I enrolled in official lessons not long after that anyway so it didn’t make sense to continue the stages in the app.

Do you need to quit talking to someone right now? Nope. The people I’m talking to right now in between this survey are all welcome conversations.

Would you ever quit school? That wasn’t an option for me and I never would’ve done it anyway. 

Don’t you think quitting is stupid? No. Sometimes it can be the strongest thing you can do for yourself.

R - Reading.

What was the last book you read? Does my Korean lesson textbook count hahaha...if not, I haven’t really read anything in years.

Do you own a lot of books? I do, but they are all books from my childhood and teenage years. It’s been a while since I last updated my bookshelf.

Do you have a library card? No, haven’t had one since Grade 1.

Have you ever read a book that changed your life? Without Seeing the Dawn was pretty influential to me, but I dunno about ‘life-changing.’ I need to read more to find the book that would have that effect on me.

S - Safety.

Do you always wear your seat belt? I do these days. I didn’t really practice it when I used to drive to school, whoops. Always forgot to do it.

When riding a four-wheeler do you wear a helmet? I rarely get to do that.

Did you ever wear knee pads and a helmet when riding your bike? Nah. I can’t ride a bike either. Do you always think safety first? In COVID terms, yeah. I have a face mask and shield on as soon as I find myself outdoors.

T - Talk

Who was the last person you talked to? Reena. Who are you talking to right now? Nobody. It’s just me, this survey, and some music in the background.

Who did you last talk to before you went to bed last night? Angela and Reena, if I’m not mistaken.

Do you need to talk to anybody right now? No, I’m good.

U - US ARMY

Do you support it? I don’t know enough about it to have a bold opinion, considering I’m not even from the US and it’s been a while since their army has had any strong contact with my country.

Do you know anybody who is in the army right now? I think one of Angela’s uncles has a high position in our national army.

Don’t you ever wonder why their camo doesn’t match anything? Not really.

Would you ever go to the army? No.

V - Virgin.

Are you a virgin? Nope.

When did you lose your virginity? I was 18.

Do you wish you would’ve waited? Nah, it felt right when I did it the first time; and I maintain that stance now even though I’m no longer with that person.

Do you think you could have stayed a virgin until marriage? I could. Sex isn’t a big deal to me.

W - What.

What are you doing right now besides this survey? I’m also listening to mono. and taking bites from my doughnut every now and then.

What are you craving? Spicy tuna salad, but it can wait. Andi got me my favorite truffle baked macaroni because it’s CM Punk day today :D :D and that’s able to satisfy my savory cravings for now.

What do you need to buy? Shelves.

Why are you taking my survey? I’ve mentioned this before but I like categorized/themed surveys, so alphabetical ones are always fun for me.

X -Xanax 

Do you know anybody who is addicted to Xanax? I don’t think so.

Have you ever taken it before? No.

Do you even know what it is? No, actually.

Have you ever suffered from anxiety or depression? I’m sure I have.

Y - Yourself.

Name. Robyn.

Age. 23.

Do you smile a lot? Sure, I’d say that’s common these days.

Z - Zebra.

Are you addicted to zebra striped? Not really.

Do you own anything zebra striped? Nah. I have some stuff that come in black and white stripes, but not zebra print. Is anything on any of your websites zebra striped? No.

[sadaboutniall]

something about you;

introduction | masterlist | tag | wattpad

Twenty Eight. January, 2018.

The second time Niall gets to stare at Isla from the altar at a wedding, it’s because their best friends are getting married. This time, they’re both up there—Niall’s the best man and Isla’s the maid of honor and this feels so right compared to last time, so much more complete. Just like last time, Niall knows he should be looking at the bride but it feels impossible to keep his eyes away from Isla for more than a few seconds at most, to do anything other than think about what it might feel like, one day, to watch her walk up the aisle toward him. 

They get to walk down it together, at least, arm in arm behind Mully and Emilia once they say their vows. Niall’s a little surprised to notice that he can hardly see through his tears, that every time he blinks the sight in front of him gets blurrier and blurrier, enough that he’s actively thankful to have Isla guiding him along. Over the music and the roar of Mully and Emilia’s guests in the pews, Niall can hear Isla sniffling too, and when he clears his vision enough to look at her she’s watery-eyed and emotional, clutching her bouquet to her chest desperately. 

Niall knows this moment isn’t about them, but he can’t help himself. They exit out onto the stone steps of the church, flower petals fluttering through the air, and this feels real, just for a second. Isla, her hair blown back with the Irish wind, tears in her eyes, a boundless smile on her face. If he squints just right, this moment could be theirs. 

He wants it to be. 

-- 

‘Finally, if there’s one thing Sean and Emilia taught me,’ says Isla, holding her champagne glass in the air. Every eye in the room is on her, and Niall feels like he’s bursting with it, a combination of pride and protectiveness. ‘It’s that love will always find you. I’ve had a complicated, twisted love story of my own, and all along the way I’ve looked up to Sean and Mia. There’ve been moments where I was jealous that things worked out so perfectly for them, and moments where I looked at them and felt an acute sadness, a longing, a twinge of third wheel.’

Laughter, from Isla, and the crowd. Emilia blushes scarlet, and Mully looks smug. ‘But, above all,’ Isla continues, ‘watching Sean and Mia’s love story has shown me over and over again that love has its own way. I’m a pretty logical person, most of the time. I’m a lawyer, I like facts, and I like reason—but I also like to believe that the Universe has a plan for us all. I think Sean and Mia are living proof of that. When two people are meant to love each other, to be together, the Universe will conspire to make it happen. Maybe the Universe will make one teenager move halfway across the world, to a whole new country, to meet the person they’re meant to be with. Or, maybe, the Universe will bring two people back together after half a decade apart, because they’re meant to be together. The Universe has a plan, Love has a plan, and I think Sean and Emilia are a perfect, beautiful, flawless result of that plan in action.’

‘Mia, Sean, my two best friends in the entire world: I love you. Thank you for showing me what love is, what love can do, what kind of love everyone on Earth deserves. I think I speak for everyone here when I say I’m absolutely, unbelievably delighted for you. Congratulations, and I’m so, so excited for whatever comes next.’ 

Smiling, Isla wipes at her eyes with her palm, champagne glass still raised. ‘To the Mulhollands,’ she says, holding the glass higher, tipping it back for a drink as the rest of the wedding repeats after her. Around them, the hall bursts into cheers, and Niall wills himself to stop crying. 

-- 

The night speeds by them, a blur of sweaty bodies on the dance floor, of roaring laughter and raised pints. Mostly, Niall remembers Isla: her cheeks flushed with alcohol, her hand brushing against his as she passed him her shoes to hold while Emilia pulled her away to dance, the wet brush of her lips against his cheek, the tendrils of brown hair curling around her ears. He remembers her delighted gasp when they cut the cake, her muffled sniffles during the first dance, her head resting on Niall’s shoulder as Emilia’s dad gave his speech. 

He remembers being surprised at how happy Isla’s parents are to see him: at how his dad shakes his hand, how her mom kisses him on the cheek. He watches them, seated at a table with his own parents, and imagines them as grandparents someday, a mini him, a mini Isla, seated on their laps. 

And he remembers this, too: slow dancing with Isla near the end of the night, guests slowly saying their goodbyes, the DJ gently bringing the party back down to Earth. They’re swaying in the middle of the room, Isla’s head on his chest, his arms around her waist, and it’s so peaceful, so right, that Niall doesn’t even want to go to bed, despite the late hour. He wants this, he’s sure. He wants it forever. 

‘Isla,’ he says, smoothing one of his hands down her back. ‘Can I ask you a question?’

She glances up at him, eyes soft, head tilted. He can tell she’s tired so he pulls her closer to him, lets her support even more of her weight against his body. ‘Everything okay?’ she asks, furrowing her brow.

‘Jesus, yeah,’ he brings his hand up, cups her cheek. ‘Everything’s amazing. I love you so much.’

‘I love you too,’ she smiles, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Niall’s thumb. ‘You look so handsome in your tux.’

‘Yeah?’ He can’t help it, the heat rising in his belly. ‘You think so?’

‘I do,’ Isla fingers one of the undone buttons on his shirt, skin brushing his chest hair. ‘Glad Mully decided to go with the forest green. It’s good with your skintone.’

‘You’re sweet,’ Niall brushes his lips against Isla’s gently. ‘So I’ve been thinking?’

‘Dangerous.’

‘I know. But this is a good idea, I reckon.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that.’

‘Actually, you’ll be the barrister—’

Isla laughs, shaking her head gently. ‘What’s up, Niall?’

‘Well,’ Niall hadn’t expected to feel so nervous asking this. He swallows thick, ignores the hammer of his heart against his ribcage. ‘You know that talk we had the other night?’

Isla knows what he’s talking about right away, he can tell from the sad look that works its way across her face. It breaks his heart now the same way it broke his heart then, holding Isla in his arms as she cried at the news that Mully and Emilia will be moving to LA after their honeymoon, trying to comfort her when she said, over and over, that London would never be the same without them. 

‘It just… got me thinking,’ Niall smooths a hand over her hair, a little frizzy with sweat. ‘I know you’re really sad about them moving, and so am I but, like, maybe it’s time for you to move too?’

‘Huh? I can’t move to LA, Niall, I’d need to re-do law school and—’

‘No, no, petal,’ Niall laughs a little, biting back tears that are already working their way forward. ‘Move in with me?’

Isla exhales, mouth falling open gently. ‘Oh,’ she whispers. ‘Oh my God.’

‘If you don’t feel ready that’s okay,’ Niall rushes. ‘But, I mean, it’s way closer to your work and I already brought it up to Willie and he’d be only delighted to have you and I fucking love having you around all the time. And I thought maybe it would make you feel a little less lonely, too, on top of all that.’

‘Niall, I can’t afford—’

‘Honestly, petal, I don’t give a shit if you pay rent or not. I’m already paying for the place.’

‘But I want to contribute. I’m not just going to live off you for nothing, Niall.’

‘Yeah, I figured you’d say that,’ he laughs, heart fluttering as Isla blushes. ‘You can keep paying the rent you pay for your place right now, and I’ll use that money as part of the rent every month. Or you can pay for WiFi and electricity yourself, or pay for the groceries, or the heat and hot water. There are a million ways we can make it work, Isla. If you want to draw up one of your fancy contracts—’

‘I do,’ she says, softly. ‘It would make me feel a lot better.’

‘That’s okay with me,’ he brushes his thumb along Isla’s cheekbone. ‘I just want to wake up with you every morning. It’s bullshit, living across the river from each other. There’s no point.’

‘Yeah,’ Isla nods gently. ‘I want that, too. I love waking up with you.’

‘S’my favorite thing in the world,’ he tells her honestly. ‘I’d be the happiest guy in all of London.’

Isla laughs, eyes glinting with the golden fairy lights in the hall, with fresh tears. ‘Monday morning,’ she tells him. ‘I’ll take a stab at that contract.’

In his chest, Niall’s heart does a somersault. He feels a warm tear make its way down his cheek, his stomach turning to mush. ‘I’ll tell my lawyer to expect it,’ he laughs, leaning in for a long, gentle kiss. 

####

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[coldshrugs]

boats and birds

Fandom: The Arcana Pairing: Cleo/Julian Length: right under 1.7k words Summary?: Cleo and Julian get separated while traveling through the tumultuous realms of The Arcana, and Cleo finds a child that could use a little help.

Cleo's eyes blink open to a thick canopy of tropical-looking leaves, shimmering pink-gold light winking through here and there. The air is thick with magic, but there's no real hostility here.

"We did it," she smiles in relief, nerves leaving in a quiet rush of laughter as she sits up. "We made it to the Magician's realm! Julian?"

They were falling through the void together when she pulled them to the safety of this realm. She didn't even realize they'd been separated. Did Julian make it here at all? Oh god, if he's lost out there in this place he doesn't understand -

Cleo's panic is interrupted by the sound of rustling leaves, a high-pitched yelp, and the muffled sound of crying. Scrambling to her feet, she chases the fading whimpers through the dense forest.

It sounded so close before but now, jumping over roots and ducking branches, she's not sure she went the right way. Starting to feel just foolish enough to turn back, Cleo stumbles into a clearing cut through by a softly gurgling brook. There, on the bank, sits the figure of what is clearly a child with a tangle of auburn hair, collecting water in their small hands and sniffling through shaky breaths.

"Oh! Hello there." Cleo approaches with slow, sure steps. "Are you alright? I heard a shout and-" The child turns to look at her, lip quivering and eyes rimmed in red- "Julian?"

There's no mistaking that face. The features are a little too big for him at this age, but his gray eyes search over her with a familiar curiosity and she knows it's him. He doesn't look like he wants to run. For a second Cleo wonders how he managed to get changed into this version of himself but before she can ask, he opens his mouth to speak.

"W-who?" The word seems to take a lot out of him and a fresh set of tears streak his face. With his body turned this way, Cleo can see the nasty scrape on his knobby little knee.

She steps to his side, smiling as warmly as she can. If not Julian then... "Ilya. is that your name?" He nods and Cleo continues. "I'm Cleo. Why don't I help you with that knee while you tell me what you're doing out here."

Without the slightest hint of reluctance, he nods and gingerly extends his leg for her examination. It doesn't look too deep, just dirty from the forest floor; Julian's pain tolerance is clearly not an inherent trait. Still, blood beads up in various spots and it needs to be cleaned and bandaged. Cleo tears off a scrap of her already disheveled dress and dips it into the stream.

"Mama and Papa gave me a pirate ship for my birthday! It has bright red sails and two masts and even a little golden door to the captain's quarters! but..." his rush of cheer fades just as quickly as it began. "But I lost it. just like I lost Pasha last summer. I tried to chase it down the stream-" Ilya winces when Cleo presses the cool, damp cloth to his knee "-but it was too fast, and I tripped."

Cleo hums a little chuckle, mostly to herself, at the absurdity of this entire situation but it's so adorable, she can't help enjoying herself a bit. She rips another piece of her dress, a cleaner one, and snuggly ties it around his wound. "I'm sure Pasha isn't upset about getting lost. She's a tough little thing, right?"

He nods again, giving her a reserved, gap-toothed grin. "You're right."

"I'll bet we can find that magnificent pirate vessel of yours, Captain Ilya. And if not, the beach here is great for making sandcastles. Wanna go with me?" She stands and extends a hand to him. He takes it without hesitation and stands to a height nearly as tall as her own. Cleo can't help but laugh now, her chest filling with the warm urge of affection one feels when they see a litter of puppies waiting to be pet. "Wow, you're already so tall!"

Ilya beams, puffing up his rail-thin frame and putting his hands on his hips. "Mama says all her brothers are giants and I'm gonna be just like them!" Cleo shakes her head; he doesn't know how right he is.

"Right then, let's find your ship." She starts in the direction of the running water, looking back with a radiant smile when Ilya's small hand slips into hers. His spirits seem entirely lifted, though his eyes are still red from crying.

As they walk next to the stream, Cleo takes the opportunity to ask Ilya about his life, his family, his favorite things; and she makes sure to answer with the warmest encouragement she can muster. She points out all the most dangerous roots just waiting to catch his lanky limbs and he steps over them carefully. As they chat and laugh, the once babbling brook picks up steam. A few jutting rocks and rolling rapids wait up ahead, but Cleo can see the forest opening to the starlit beach just past them. The stream runs right out to the ocean.

"Miss Cleo!" Ilya points at one of the rocks, tugging to get her attention. "It's my ship!"

Sure enough, blood-red sails bump into the stone over and over, but the ship doesn't seem to be damaged.

"Looks like it's stuck, but I should be able to bring it to us." Cleo releases his hand and winks. They dash to the spot directly across from the rock.

"I can find a stick for you-"

"Thank you, Ilya, but I have something a bit more magical in mind." Cleo extends her hand, and her magic flies out beyond it, shimmering in the air as if she were casting a net across the stream. Ilya gasps at her side. When the translucent net floats over the toy boat she drops it, then makes a fist as she calls the magic back to her. The little ship bobs across the surface of the water until the boy scoops it up from the bank.

"My ship! Miss Cleo, you did it! Thank you, thank you!" He hugs the toy to his chest, before rounding on his savior to hug her too.

She pats his back. "You're welcome, Ilya. Anytime. Let's head down to the beach and watch her sail!"

With a gleeful bounce to their steps, they finally leave the forest. Thousands of stars twinkle above them, reflected in the gentle waves of the impossibly colorful sea. Before they manage more than a few feet toward the tide, another rustling sound starts from a cluster of nearby bushes. Cleo takes Ilya's hand once more, shuffling him behind her as they wait for whatever might appear.

A dark, towering form steps out of the shadows, but the presence is one she knows well and relief washes over Cleo. "Julian? Is that really you?"

"Cleo! You're here! The real you, that is." Grown-up Julian looks like a mountain of worry has just fallen off his shoulders. Though Cleo notices something else is there, literally. Tiny legs are wrapped around his waist, held up by his arms, and slowly, a head topped with frizzy lilac curls pokes over his shoulder. With a faint "eep!" the little girl drops back down to hide behind his back. Julian whispers "she's shy" dramatically.

"Is that... is that me?" The edges of a headache build behind Cleo's eyes, but nothing worse than finding out she died years ago. She can handle this.

Julian takes great care to gently sit this smaller version of Cleo in the sand. She's gripping a kite in one tiny hand and clinging to Julian's leg with the other. "Yep. At least, her name is Cleo too. She doesn't talk much but that Firenti accent is thick. Lost her kite in a tree, so I got it down and told her we could come down to the beach to fly it, safely. What about you? Looks like you've got quite the handsome escort there."

He winks at Ilya, who steps around Cleo with a new smile. "Miss Cleo used magic to get my boat out of the stream! It was amazing!"

"She's pretty great, isn't she?" Julian reaches for her hand. "Say, is that the good ship Red Velvet? I lost that ages ago!"

"You named your ship after cake?"

"The best cake." Julian and Ilya say in unison.

Cleo leans into his side, biting her lip to keep from laughing. "Well, Ilya, why don't you ask the other Cleo if she'd like to see the Red Velvet's second, more successful, voyage."

He beams but approaches tiny Cleo with caution. "Do you wanna sail her with me? You can have a turn at being captain, I don't mind. A-and we can fly your kite too!"

She looks from one version of Julian to the other, before nodding. The voice that comes out is astonishingly quiet, and the Firenti accent is just as apparent as Julian said. "I've never been a captain before but I'll try my best."

They start the trek down to the water, before getting excited and running full tilt, their little laughs echoing back across the sand. With the toy boat pushed into the sea, their forms begin to lose shape, shimmering around the edges before disappearing entirely.

Alone and reunited in the Magician's realm, Julian sweeps Cleo into his arms, peppering her face with a dizzying amount of joyful kisses before finally meeting her lips properly.

"I assume you were as worried as I was?" Cleo steadies herself with hands on his shoulders. He nods against her forehead and kisses her again. "But that was so cute! You were such a gangly kid!"

He chuckles and she feels the laughter move through her own chest. "Did you see your hair?! It was massive! As big as you were, honestly. You were adorable."

"Well," she feigns offense, clutching at pearls that don't exist, "one of us has grown into their hair and the other is still a little on the gangly side."

Cleo stands on her toes to catch his lips again but they topple into the sand, any further teasing attempts at teasing dying to breathless laughter and smothered kisses.

[cas-backwards-tie]

Nothing But A Monster

Summary: Stranded on the side of the highway in the middle of a thunderstorm with no spare tire, you’re forced to take a ride from a mysterious man and his butler. Little do you know, this man has other plans than simply getting you to your destination.

Warnings: Blood.

Words: 1,869

A/N: So this is the first actual fic I’ve written in like... a year or so. I randomly got inspired from a dream so I hope you guys enjoy this! 

Rain patters against the glass window as he looks out at the lightning streaking across the sky every few seconds or so. His assistant, Bernard, tried eliciting a conversation of small-talk earlier at the airport when he’d picked up his master. However, Kylo Ren’s never been one for small-talk. Watching the raindrops race down the Lincoln’s back window, he admires the way the distant city lights blur with all the water. As the green sign steadily approaches overhead the highway, Bernard takes the scenic route home, a road few people take as the new highway system provides routes with faster ways into and around the city.

“It’s pouring now!” You exclaim, banging your wrench against the hood of your broken-down car in frustration, “great! Just what I need.” A sigh escapes your lips and your hair begins to stick to your face as your clothes start to soak. You eye the tiny dent you’d just made, giving up you walk back to the open trunk of your car and toss the wrench back in. Without a spare tire, it’s useless to try to fix the flat. Out of all the things you could forget, you’d forgotten the most essential thing for this problem: a spare tire. Closing the trunk, you figure you can walk the next few miles up to whatever’s closest and ask to borrow their phone to call for the roadside assistance company. Just as you lock the car and turn to head for the nearest town, bright lights blind you. Raising your arm over your eyes, you can only pray that the car coming off the highway sees and doesn’t hit you.

The slowing of the car causes Kylo’s attention to drift toward the front, eyebrows furrowing a tad. “What’s the holdup?” He asks Bernard, but suddenly sees the issue itself. There’s a woman standing on the side of the road next to a car, her hair sticks to her face along with the white and polka-dot dress she wears. “There’s a young woman in trouble up here,” Bernard responds, the typical old fool’s heart showing a bit too much for Kylo’s liking. Although he’s not one for helping random humans, there’s something about this woman that strikes him in an odd, yet fascinated way. “Stop the car,” he commands Bernard.

Watching the car pass by, you lose a bit of the hope you’d had that maybe, just maybe you’d be able to stop them and ask for help. Your head hangs for a few moments before you spot the red lights of the car up ahead and hear the reversal and sudden approach of the vehicle. Whipping your head up, it’s coming fast. The car’s a few feet away so it doesn’t hit you as it comes to a stop. Right beside you now, the door opens and you stare into the fancy black car at a man dressed in an all black suit. The only real thing you can see in the dim light of the night is that he’s white. When lightning strikes again, you see his eyes are brown, and his hair is dark. The man leans forward, his eyebrows raised in a curious manner. “You know it’s not wise to be out in the middle of nowhere during a thunderstorm?” His eyes roam you up and down, and despite knowing he’s ogling you, you strangely don’t mind.

“Can you please give me a ride to the next stop? A gas station? I just need to call someone.”

The way this woman’s eyes plead, seemingly staring into his soul, is startling. Lightning brightens the sky in a flash before thunder rumbles in the distance, rain beginning to drip and splatter inside the car as he stares out at her. It’s perplexing to him, how one’s face can hold the word ‘kindness’ stricken over it almost as obviously as if it were written across her forehead. “Fine. Get in,” he gestures for her to take the seat next to him. Sliding back to his seat at the window, Kylo watches as fear and worry seem to cross her features. He pokes his head back over and smirks at her. “You’re more likely to get struck by lightning,” he threatens, knowing she must’ve been questioning the innocence of the men in the car. As she gets in, he leans back against the door on his side, his attention returning to the raindrops racing down his window.

Although it’d crossed your mind that this man may have harmful intentions for you, the fact that there’s two men allows for some sort of safeness, you think. Taking your chances; you slide into the seat and close the door. “I’m sorry for troubling you, I just… my tire went flat, and I’d stupidly forgotten the spare. Thank you so much for stopping.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Miss. We’re happy to help. It’s no fun to be standing out in the rain all by your lonesome. I’m Bernard,” the old man behind the driver’s wheel smiles at you in the rearview mirror. The British accent takes you by surprise, though you find it just as adorable as in the movies. A feeling of reassurance washes over you and you smile back at him. Gratefulness fills your chest as you know it’s not everyday someone shows human decency like they’d used to anymore.

Kylo could groan at the conversation between the two of them. ‘Stupidly’. Stupidly is right. Humans are nothing if not stupid, and it’s been proven to him time and time again. Even if something had come over him at the moment, the desire to do a good deed, to help this poor woman, the urge has faded. This is for Bernard’s wellbeing. Lord knows that if they didn’t stop for her that Bernard would chastise him for the rest of the night. As the Lincoln rolls forward and drives toward the nearest stop, Kylo can’t help but glance over at the woman, trying to get a better feel for her, a better look at her. He admires the way her nose sticks out, the round button-like look to it definitely shows personality. Though her hair is wet and stuck to her skin, the baby hairs curl up as they dry, a frizziness held in it. Her eyelashes are long and thin, though beautiful in the way they frame her eyes with a softness to them, a stray eyelash on her cheek. As he notices her about to look at him, he darts his gaze over to the window, returning to the observation of the frenzied storm outside. There’s something about storms he’s always found calming, and why? He’s yet to discover that reason himself.

Greenery passes; trees, bushes, and shrubs line the long straight road, lights from the highway and airport illuminating things in the distance. Within the car, the warm air envelopes you, causing the soaking wet cold of the water to begin seeping into your bones. The mix of warm and cool causes an imbalance in you, one resulting in sleepiness. Your eyes water slightly as you let yourself finally relax, on your way to resolving the issue at hand and heading home for the night. Resting your head against the window, the smooth ride eases your nerves. It feels all too soon that they’ve stopped at the gas-station.

“Miss, I believe this is your stop,” Bernard pipes up, giving her a kind look in the mirror again. “If you should need the information, just tell them your car’s parked off the scenic route of highway forty-five. That should be enough clue for them.” Giving her a nod, he places the car in ‘Park’ as he waits for her to take her leave. “And it was no problem at all, you haven’t given us any trouble. I wish you the best of luck!”

Kylo doesn’t mind the company of the woman beside him, if anything he ignores it almost entirely. The comfortable silence that’d engulfed the ride comes to an abrupt end with Bernard’s voice. His eyes raise to the man in the front seat, an idea coming to him as the woman begins to speak her goodbyes. Licking his lips, he turns to face the woman more head-on. “Wait!” He reaches out for the woman as she reaches for the door. “Bernard, would you mind raising the divider to give us a moment?”

Your eyes go wide as you turn to look back at the man beside you. There’s an eerie air surrounding him and although he’d offered you a ride, there’s still the lingering worries in the back of your mind of dreadful possibilities. “Yes?” Looking him over, he doesn’t seem like he has any ill will. Though as the divider to your presence of comfort raises and cuts him off, you remind yourself that in case of anything untoward, the door is unlocked.

In a moment’s notice, his eyes fade into a deep crimson red. The blood coursing through your veins speeds up a tad as fear runs through you, the temptation to scream dying on your tongue. “You will not scream,” he speaks monotonously, his voice smooth like water, “you will not fight and you will remember nothing of this exchange other than getting the ride you needed.” As her offensive stance relaxes, Kylo brushes back her cool wet hair, his fingers snaking into it as he cradles her head in his hand. Tilting her head to the side, he sinks his fangs in and feasts. A quiet gasp sounds right into his ear as she whimpers. The sweet, thick, luscious feeling of her blood coats his tongue over and over as he drinks from her. A few moments pass before he knows if he doesn’t stop, he’ll have to kill her. Lapping over the wound with his tongue, he pulls his fangs out and retracts them, his eyes returning to their previous honey ladened brown. He leans forward to reach around her, popping the door open. “Goodbye,” he says before shutting the door behind her.

Shaking off the weird feeling you’d just had, you smile to yourself as you walk across the pavement toward the gas-station’s entrance. Relief creates a warm aura around you as the gratefulness for a safe ride and helpful people had come right when you’d needed it. Now all that’s left to do is call the roadside assistance company and wait for them to come help you out.

Kylo rolls his eyes as he notices the glare from Bernard. “You didn’t have to,” he says disappointedly. There’s no guilt inside his chest as he simply shrugs in response to the old man, “I didn’t have to. I wanted to. What can I say? I was hungry.”

[syekick-powers]

self-esteem improving talks under the cut, look if you wanna see me talk about how hot i am i guess

i know i used to post a lot about feeling ugly and shit and how my old selfie tag used to call my face “horrible” and shit but honestly. honestly. i have some fucking good-ass genetics. like seriously, just making a bulleted lists of traits:

all the afab people in my family line on my mom’s side age like fine wine, often looking 20 years younger than they are, and i know i’ve inherited this because ive been mistaken for being younger repeatedly throughout my twenties.

my face skin is super fucking nice; i get pimples on my face VERY rarely (even on testosterone!) and my skin legit looks so good that when i was growing up i never had to wear makeup because my skin was so smooth and blemish free that i pretty much never needed it. i literally don’t even have a skincare routine because i dont fucking need it. aside from washing my face off with soap in the shower my skin is literally so fucking good that i don’t need to do any fancy skincare routines to look this good, it just looks like this completely naturally with no effort on my part at all.

my teeth are super nice. aside from some wear due to grinding when asleep, my teeth are in pristine condition. the last time i had a cavity was when i was a little kid, and ever since then my teeth have been perfect. every single dentist who examines my teeth is like “wow, aside from grinding wear, you have really nice teeth.”

my hair is super duper thick and takes like a week to get dirty (and, in fact, my hair actually dries out and gets frizzy if i wash it too often) meaning i can wash my hair and it’ll look nice for like 4-5 days without having to bathe at all. kinda similar to the dentist thing, every time i get a new hairdresser the first comment out of their mouths when handling my hair is “wow your hair is so thick!”

my face is nice. like i used to call my face “horrible” in my selfie tag but honestly? honestly. i have a nice face. nice sharp jawline. good smile.

my eyes are fucking pretty. like even when i thought i was ugly as a teenager i knew i had beautiful eyes. the outer ring is super dark blue while the inner ring around my pupil is very light which makes the pupils super piercing and intense. also there’s a little pattern around my pupils that reminds me of a flower.

my face is very expressive, meaning i can make some really fucking goofy expressions. this is a positive for me because my humor is a key aspect of my personality and being able to make dumb as shit faces ALWAYS improves the quality of my jokes.

body type. i used to think of myself as “fat” but honestly i carry my weight really well. i remember back in 2014 when i still worked at that grocery store i brought up my weight in front of one of my coworkers and she was like “no way!! you can’t possibly be that heavy!! you don’t look that weight at all!!” and honestly? i’m pretty heavy, and if you saw me with no clothes on you’d see where the weight is, but i no longer see it as a bad thing. like when i was a teenager i hated the fact that my thighs were so fucking big, but now that big thighs are the sexy thing, i feel less like i’m “fat” and more like “yes i am so thicc. the thiccest. truly dummy thicc.”

this is related to testosterone/transition but. ever since i started T i grew a shit-ton of muscle without any exercise at all and now i’m a LOT stronger than i was when i was estrogen-dominant. like before i started T, back in 2015 or so when me and my friends would work out at the planet fitness, we’d work on the weight machines and my arch enemy was the ab machine. i fucking hated the ab machine so much because my ab muscles were SO weak and i could barely do ten reps on the thing without collapsing into an exhausted heap. then i start working out in a new gym after being on testosterone for a while and i get on the ab machine expecting it to be as torturous as the previous one was. i set it to the lowest resistance. it feels like fucking nothing. i turn the resistance up one. still nothing. i keep turning the resistance up and up and testing it again and again looking for a setting that actually feels effortful and i get up to 45 fucking lbs of resistance and then and only then do my ab muscles feel even the tiniest amount of exertion. i do like 50 reps on that setting no fucking problem. even better, i get on the leg machines that work out like your thighs and shit and my legs are so fucking apeshit bananas strong that i’m doing like 200-something lbs of resistance on the leg press and it still barely feels like fucking anything. i will fucking crush ur head with my thighs.

not really related to appearance but another thing about myself that i like a lot is my laugh. a lot of people have told me that i have a really wonderful laugh that they like listening to. it makes me feel really happy to know that my laugh is such a nice sound that people wanna keep hearing it.

also not related to appearance but more to streaming: everyone tells me i have a really funny scream. this helps me when streaming because people are able to have a laugh when i screech rather than find it annoying. i didn’t really realize how important this was for creating content like streaming until i watched some other LPers and realized that funny screaming will often make or break a streamer/LPer because if their voice/scream is annoying it will really drive people away.

idk bro. i’ve thought of myself as ugly for so fucking long because my measure of how attractive i was, was directly proportionate to the number of people that approached me for a relationship. like i thought that the amount of people asking you out on dates was the hardline indicator of how attractive you are, not necessarily how you look but how other people perceive how you look. and for a while my idea of body positivity was not caring if other people found me unattractive because i didn’t need to be attractive to be a complex human being that deserves respect. and this is undoubtedly true, and should be what all body positivity should strive to do--but i do think i am beautiful now. i didn’t used to, but i do now.

honestly, looking back at my school years and how no one asked me on dates... i honestly think the number one reason why no one asked me on dates was not because i was ugly, but just because i gave off such an intense “Don’t Fuck With Me” aura that people were too intimidated to want to date me. like i’ve legitimately been mistaken for a bodyguard in the past because i give off such a powerful vibe in public. so misguided younger me assumed that because no one approached me that meant i had to have been too ugly for it.

bro you’re not fucking ugly you’re just so used to projecting this incredibly defensive aura that people are genuinely too intimidated to approach you. you’re not ugly. get a fuckening grip.