#in any case silver in the end is telling them it's what they need and deserve

[danielslaw]

DANIEL LARUSSO AND TORY NICHOLS parallel of their cobra kai training - requested by anonymous.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (III)

On your travels with the two demon companions, you stumble upon a fortified village plagued by monster attacks. It would be quite unlucky if the grand finale happened just as you step foot inside, right? Worry not, you're saved by a third mysterious yokai that you immediately recognize. The harem grows!

Content: female reader, monsters, violence

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guide]

“Alright, how’s this?”

You do a clumsy pirouette before the two yokai men.

“That’s...are you sure?” Kiritsubo eyes you, mildly confused. “It’s usually what men wear.”

Of course, you already know. After weeks of walking through feudal Japan, you’ve reached the conclusion that modern clothing isn’t the most practical choice. Not to mention the strange looks you always get from other people upon your arrival in any village. You needed something to blend in, and the typical fashion for your gender might not be compatible with your training. You’d rather not swing a sword while covered in multiple layers of kimono.

Thus, you opted for the hakama pants typically worn by men. With your hair tied up and in this baggy attire, one could think you’re a young samurai. If they squint enough. You chuckle at the thought.

“She’ll wear whatever allows her to not be a burden.” Murasaki concludes with crossed arms.

One way to put it, you tell yourself.

“If you’re done discussing fashion, we can leave.” The dark-haired man continues with indifference, standing up and adjusting the swords in the folds of his sash.

Both you and Kiritsubo hurry and follow behind obediently.

“Where are we going this time?” You ask sheepishly.

“South-west. An old residence of his, although we will have to pass through a fortified settlement first. We should reach it before sunset.”

It’s hard to imagine you’re the supposed savior in this equation. Murasaki has been leading you by the hand each step, carefully considering every detail on the map, and extensively planning your travels every evening. All this on top of your daily training. You’ve now mastered the basics with the katana he’s provided you, as well as some common prayers for exorcising small-class demons.

You glance at the daisho pair of swords under his belt. A long, thin blade, and a shorter backup version, both in elaborate matching scabbards meant to showcase the status and wealth of the samurai wearing them. In this case, meant to express his rank as the advisor and right hand of the famed onmyōji. You certainly don’t doubt Nakamaro’s decision to rely on Murasaki.

In comparison, Kiritsubo carries a nagamaki at his waist. A comically long blade in your opinion, used mostly to bring down horses during battle. Any regular sword would’ve been too small for him. Despite his imposing appearance, you’ve learned rather quickly just how different Kiritsubo is from the other yokai. He’s quite clumsy in combat, often anxious about making mistakes, terribly apologetic, and overall has a heart too kind for his own good. If there’s hesitation coming from his side, Murasaki immediately follows with his ruthless, ending blows. As a matter of fact, even you’ve had to do the occasional killing to spare the man of such choices.

The silver-haired demon notices your eyes on him and smiles, excited. He reminds you of a large dog. A horned, fanged dog of monstrous strength, nonetheless the innocence is there. And he does make a great travel companion.

“How much longer?” You grunt, looking up.

“Are you tired? I can carry you for the rest of the way-” Kiritsubo instantly offers but is interrupted by Murasaki’s barked orders.

“She can walk. Don’t spoil her.” He glares at you, then nods ahead. “We’re almost there, so quit your whining.”

True to his word, you can finally discern the outline of a wall at the top of the hill. A few more steps, and you can even spot two guards standing beside the great gate.

“Stop there!”

The soldiers lift their spears threateningly. Before you can react, Murasaki steps in front of you with a hand placed on his sword.

“We’re just passing through.” He states factually.

“We’re no longer allowing visitors.” One of the guards exclaims. “The village has been raided by monsters recently and our Lord has closed all gates until the matter is solved.”

“That means no filthy demons go in.” The other adds in a mocking tone, his gaze lingering on the horns of your companions. His mouth curls in disgust.

You can tell Murasaki is angered by the disrespectful approach. He is not one to let such insults slide and you’d rather avoid him claiming unnecessary victims; therefore, you push past his arm and plant yourself ahead with a polite greeting bow.

“These yokai are with me. I vouch for their good behavior, so please consider letting us through. Perhaps we can even help you with these monsters.”

“You? How would you…”

The man stops abruptly, switching between you and the yokai. Eventually he inspects your scabbard, and he gasps, confusion twisting his features.

“Could it be? No…He’d be dead by now.”

“What are you talking about?” His partner inquires impatiently.

“That’s the family seal belonging to Abe no Nakamaro.” He explains, pointing to the golden finish at the end of your katana handle. “I’ve heard about him from my grandparents. But it’s been decades!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re saying this kid is a legendary onmyōji?”

“Who else would show up with demons as servants? Everything matches. Perhaps his powers have finally reached immortality”, he concludes solemnly.

The men continue their argument, and you clear your throat, embarrassed. What the hell? You can’t possibly look that manly. Sure, you’ve been skipping the makeup, and the clothes aren’t exactly curve shaping, but to be mistaken for an old man is like a slap to the face.

You’re about to deny their claims, but Murasaki swiftly pinches the back of your neck, and you wince. He lowers himself to your ear and whispers:

“This will be to our advantage. Just go along with it.” “Fine!” You mumble angrily. Then you turn back to the guards.

“V-very well, I see I haven’t been forgotten.” You admit, theatrically. “Lead me to your Lord and we shall discuss the details of your monster attack.”

Thus, you sip on your tea, kneeling at the luxurious table and awaiting the arrival of the feudal Lord. The servants are exchanging words, gossiping fervently next to the wall. “I wonder if he can cure my daughter!” one woman mumbles, visibly emotional.

“Do you think we can finally be saved? He’ll truly exorcise the beasts tormenting our village?” another whispers.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead and glare at Murasaki. You had no idea he’d given you Nakamaro’s old sword. Now you’re stuck pretending to be a pompous, long-dead asshat.

“What if they catch us?” You hiss between your teeth. “I don’t know shit about onmyōdō.”

“Then I’ll just kill them all. Simple as that.” The crimson-eyed man retorts, unconcerned. “Have a little fun, won’t you?”

“W-we’ll help you come up with answers, (Y/N). Don’t worry.” Kiritsubo chimes in, trying to reassure you.

You sigh in frustration and look out the window. The sun must’ve set a long time ago and has since been replaced by a pitch-black sky. What’s keeping the Lord? Surely, he can’t be having important business meetings late at night.

Almost as if your thoughts were read, the door slides open and a servant wobbles in. The rest of the household workers are silent, expecting the entrance of their master, but no one is following behind. You observe the bizarre limp of the woman. Suddenly, she collapses to the floor, revealing her bloodied back torn by deep wounds, caused by some sort of claw. Her body is stiff.

Panic settles in right away, and the servants topple over each other to get away from the fresh cadaver. You struggle to get up among the terrified crowd, but thankfully Murasaki grabs your wrist and pulls you out into a quieter hallway.

“What the hell?” is all you manage to say.

“Rotten.” Kiritsubo furrows his brows, sniffing the air. “Someone in here must be possessed. Could be more of them.”

Murasaki surveys the surroundings and gestures towards his partner.

“We have to see if the Lord is still alive. You go that way. I’ll take the front. Kill everyone suspicious.”

“What about me?” You demand, holding your breath.

“Get out and wait for us. You know how to draw a protection circle, don’t you? I won’t take long.” The dark-haired yokai answers before vanishing.

Judging by the screams and wails coming from all directions, you suspect Kiritsubo is right about multiple attackers. You sprint across the hall, looking for an opening. The self-defense lessons didn’t cover cursed humans with demonic powers. You’ll stay out of this one.

What an absolute mess. You have encountered some demons in your weeks spent here, but nothing to this degree. When the guards mentioned a monster attack, you imagined a ghost with a grudge, or some small fry yokai scaring the workers at night, not a mass curse that ends in a massacre. Of course, it had to happen the moment you arrived at the main house.

You find a room with a door leading to the inner courtyard. Seems isolated enough and it should provide a bit of shelter while you wait for the pair to finish the business. As you rush past the dead bodies, you notice a woman hiding behind a screen divider.

“Ah! It’s you!” she yells, aware of your presence.

From the shadow of her secret spot emerges the small frame of a child. The woman pushes the little human towards you, blocking your path.

“Don’t worry, he’ll protect us.” she gives her child another nudge. “Go on, hold onto him. You’ll be safe.”

What? No, no, no, no, no. Not happening. You’re getting out.

“Ma’am, sorry to break it to you under such circumstances, but I’m not-”

You’re interrupted by a loud growl. One of the possessed creatures must’ve followed your scent, and it’s now sliding into the room on all fours with the bones of the limbs twisting and creaking in unnatural pounces. You purse your lips in a frightened grimace. One advantage of the wide hakama pants – useful to know – is that no one can see your knees shaking cowardly.

Theoretically, you could use the brat as bait and run for your life. It’d make a decent obstacle. Unfortunately for your life span, you’ve been gifted with an idiotic sense of duty instead of survival instincts.

“Keep your distance. If I can’t kill it, get out and don’t look back” you advise, positioning yourself in the learned stance and sliding the sword out of its sheath.

Damn it! Then again, it should be like fighting a zombie, right? Given the pathetic way it drags itself around, it can’t be too difficult to hit. Aim for the head, you repeat in your mind. Your fingers grip around the handle.

The ghoulish beast lowers itself, like a spring about to recoil, and leaps across the room with an ease you did not anticipate. Despite your iron hold, it slaps the blade out of your hands with enormous force. The impact breaks your skin, and you wince. There’s no time to weep, within seconds it could go for your vitals next. While Murasaki hasn’t gotten around to teaching you much hand-to-hand combat, you’ve read your fair share of shounen manga. The first idea that comes to mind is to put the beast in a sumo lock. You bend your knees smoothly and wrap your arms around the monster, feeling for something to hold onto. You grit your teeth and attempt to lift the creature.

A thundering laugh resonates within the walls, and you jolt, startled.

“I never thought I’d see the mighty Abe no Nakamaro wrestling with ankle biters like this. What are you going to do, throw it out of the ring?”

The voice is deep, loud, and unfamiliar. You can’t afford to look back to see the source, but it’s not hard to figure out the possibilities. So far, you’ve only been called by that cursed name by the yokai accomplices. Although now is not the best time to seek revenge.

“Shut up, I panicked”, you snap in frustration. “If you can’t help, keep that trap closed!”

The sudden burst of anger seems to have triggered something within your body, a power you don’t recognize. You watch as your arms effortlessly pick up the monster and swing it across the room, its body demolishing the opposing wall and causing thick clouds of dust to rise and spread everywhere.

The impact must’ve alerted the nearby ghouls, as you can now hear the agitated trample and screeching rapidly approaching. You’re not confident you can pull the same lucky move a second time.

You turn to search for your sword, but it’s already being handed to you by the mysterious yokai who’s been observing your little fight. You have to step aside and tilt your head all the way back in order to fully view the gigantic frame of the man.

Ah, you recognize the features immediately. The same kind of fear you felt when you stumbled upon that old shrine statue is now tugging at your chest.

“You’re Suma, right?”

A proud, wide grin forms on his face, revealing a pair of glistening fangs. His expression is unexpectedly soft and friendly.

“We’re halfway through our introductions then, eh?” You pick up the sword and his fingers stretch out for a handshake. “What is your given name? I’m guessing you don’t willingly go by that…title.”

“I very much prefer (Y/N), yes.” You marvel at the significant difference in size, placing your small hand in his. “Was that your power I just used?”

“Mhhm. You sure surprised me there! It’s not something I did intentionally, but I s’ppose we just resonate that well, huh?”

He laughs again, completely unbothered by the impending danger.

“Alright, you can leave the rest to me. Take the lady outside, it will get a little messy.”

And with that, he casually walks towards the gathering of ghouls. You guide the family to the courtyard and wait for the battle to end.

“Do you think she’ll be fine by herself?” Kiritsubo is resting against the fence, keeping you under a watchful gaze.

“Let the humans sort it out among themselves.” Murasaki responds, somewhat bored.

The morning after the attack, you offered to deal with the survivors: ask them how everything started, if they’d noticed anything suspicious days prior to the event, and if the route to Nakamaro’s old residence was still open. The yokai men had found the feudal Lord in the jaws of a possessed creature and he quickly succumbed to his wounds. Consequently, only the remaining servants could provide them with clues.

A village being targeted like this is highly unusual, and Murasaki can’t shake the feeling it could be related to their master.

“Oh, where are you heading after this?” The silver-haired yokai glances at Suma, sitting lazily next to them.

“Where? After you just told me the whole story? I’m way too invested in this modern reincarnation that just popped out of nowhere, so I’m tagging along!” He announces with a chuckle.

Murasaki frowns.

“We don’t need your help.”

“Don’t be like that.” The giant man pouts dramatically. “Are you upset I saved (Y/N) before you?”

“W-we were on our way!” Kiritsubo retorts, visibly bothered.

“It’s a done deal!” Suma rests his hands under his head and yawns. “Besides, the little human already said he doesn’t mind.”

“He? (Y/N) is a woman.”

The redhead abruptly sits up and gasps.  

“Wait, what?”

“Don’t get funny ideas, man”, the silver-haired demon warns.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Bestiary (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Your husband and you do not speak the same language. During your wedding night, you find out that High Valyrian and the Common Tongue pale when compared to the way your bodies allow you to communicate.

Warnings: Heavy smut, not much dialogue. P in V sex. First time.

A/N: Who would have thought the most enthusiastic consent I have ever written with Daemon would be in a fic with nearly no dialogue?

Being coached through your wedding vows is not a good omen for your marriage. At least, that is what your husband must think, by the thunderous look on his face. You fight the urge to scream at him that you have practiced for this moment and that you do not need to be coached through the vows. It would be no use. The two of you do not understand each other.

Everything is strange to you in Westeros, from the language to the wedding ceremony. They make you cut your lips and hand, in a procedure you do not enjoy. Your husband does the same. Your blood flows into a goblet, from which you will have to drink later on.

It's barbaric. You suppose it must symbolize the joining of bloodlines in the crudest way.

At least Daemon kisses you at the end, a cold brush of his lips against yours that tells you he is still mad. He had probably felt betrayed, being forced into this arrangement you entered willingly.

If you had known he was that petty, you would have not shown your hand so fast. Your father had wanted dragons, which meant becoming part of House Targaryen. Daemon was the only one available for you to ensnare in your web.

As any good hunter, you had watched your prey first, taking notes of his behavior. Only an afternoon was needed to understand you started the race with a disadvantage. His eyes followed Princess Rhaenyra, Princess Rhaenys and her little daughter, but never lingered on other women.

While you might have lacked the silver hair, you did not lack the wits and charms necessary to be taken in consideration.

You had needed a few days to ready your song, but you had approached him not even a week later. He had been sitting in the library, so you had knocked on the table twice to draw his attention.

Daemon had lifted his eyes from the scroll he was reading, annoyed. He had a handsome face, decorated with age lines that only served to make him look more regal. He looked more the part of the King than his brother, a decaying corpse that you had heard had also acquired his own nubile bride.

Such was the fate of the daughters of powerful men. Sold to other powerful men, old enough to be their fathers, birthing them their own litter of sons and daughters. Sons that would grow up to become powerful men in their own right, daughters that would become pawns to establish dynasties. On and on it went.

Daemon had spoken then. His words were much harsher than those of the language you were used to, lacking the airy song of the languages similar to the one from the Rhoynar. You had not understood. You did not speak a lick of the Common Tongue.

No silver hair, no words, but plenty of resources. You had placed the book you had brought with you on the table, and looked at him.

His eyes had lit up with curiosity. He recognized the title. He spoke again, intrigued.

Despite his tone sounding much more auspicious, you had no other option than to shake your head and speak, with a tremulous voice.

“Bodmagho.” It's the only word you know, one that you have prepared especially for this. But just in case your pronunciation is not perfect, you open the book and mimic the gesture of passing the pages.

Daemon looks stunned. He says something else, still in the Common Tongue. You were able to tell from the intonation he was asking a question, but you didn't know what it was about.

“Bodmagho.” You repeated, stubbornly. You placed your book down and pointed to it.

Daemon sighed. He pointed to the chair. You sat, happy as a clam.

“Prince Daemon.” He pointed at himself. Then, to you. “Lady…?”

You told him your name. He nodded.

“Daor.” He shook his head. “No.”

You stared. He shook his head again. You understood that no, daor and shaking head meant the same.

“Daor. No.” You shook your head. Daemon squeezed your shoulder, a proud smile on his face.

Your father told you that afternoon that you were to be married to him. Just as you had made efforts to catch Daemon, your father had been setting his trap.

Daemon did not oppose, nor encourage the match, but he was angry at you. Angry that you knew before him and tried to charm him into doing your bidding.

Men like him, you learn, like to be the ones pulling the strings. They hate being treated like hounds, even if that is what they are.

You get no further lessons.

This is how you manage to get to your wedding feast only knowing two words. Teach and no. It makes you the most riveting company, and so, it's no wonder you are soon ushered into a chamber with your new husband.

You had not noticed before, but it is the first time you are alone with him since the morning at the library. To you, it had been a matter of no consequence. You had to marry a powerful man, one day. Your father decided it should be him because he wanted dragons. It was as simple as that.

As a rich man, your father had known rich men only get richer at times of unrest. And unrest was coming for the Seven Kingdoms. He could smell it in the air, hear it in the whispers of the common folk. Princess Rhaenyra wasn’t going to inherit without issue.

Your family moved here for that reason. An opportunity to get richer could not be dismissed. Your father had taken one look at the dragons and decided that they were the key to turning his legacy into an empire.

Giant war machines that could level castles in one afternoon. Raze a city to the ground in mere hours. Fire so hot it could melt stone. They could not be bought, you had to be a Targaryen to have them. It was only natural to turn into one, then.

Your children would get dragons. You would provide funds and as many children as you could, and House Targaryen the magic in their veins. Simple business transaction. But apparently, Daemon disagreed.

His face is thunderous. You can tell he is about to berate you. He starts talking, brows pinched together and an accusing finger pointed towards you.

Has he forgotten you do not speak his language? You step closer and poke his arm, hard.

It was the wrong choice. Daemon's face turns even more murderous. His lips twist into a snarl, teeth bared. His posture turns aggressive. He puffs up his chest, he advances on you. The Prince tries to intimidate you through his body language alone.

You are not a small woman. But you are young, and you do not train as much as he does. His looming over you feels menacing, and it reminds you once again of the fate his late wife was rumored to have suffered.

This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. Daemon is forcing you to walk backwards, pushing your forehead and nose with his. You either move, or get a broken nose and a concussion.

Daemon is terrifying. You will not cross him again, you think to yourself. Only a fool goes around poking dragons with a stick. You feel your palms starting to sweat, a knot forming in your throat. You fight the urge to cry.

The back of your knees hits the mattress, and you fall into the furs with a small noise of surprise. Your husband does not lose any time. He gets right into your face, trying to intimidate you even more.

But if you hope to survive this marriage, to make it work as your father has requested, you can't bend. Daemon will never respect you if you do. He will see you as no more than a frightened girl, who will not disagree with him and serve for little beyond warming his bed. You are not that. You will build an empire, a dynasty out of his dragons and your wealth. The only thing you can do is persevere or break trying.

Daemon scowls at you. He notices the change in your eyes, the fight coming back to you.

“Daor.” You say, staring him down with all your might. It doesn't matter if you are lying down, and he is hovering over you, pinning you under him. You will triumph.

Daemon doesn't heed the warning. He starts tugging at the buttons of your bodice, tiny pearls sent flying all over the room. The gesture is as brutal as it is calculated. It is meant to remind you of your place, always under him from now on. Daemon has a right to your body, and he intends to exercise it as he sees fit. You are no more than an object, and if you cry or scream, it is not relevant.

Despite knowing why he is doing it, you can't avoid grimacing. He looks more beast than a man, snarling over you, ripping your clothes. It's a sight that would scare any woman, no matter how cold.

You look up at him. You give him your own little snarl. Daemon pauses. It's not the reaction he was expecting. He wanted you to cry. You would never give him the satisfaction.

It's a balancing act. You will have to bring him to heel, but soothe his pride in the next act, less he turns on you. Push away a man too much, and he will think you are disrespecting him. He will call you names, thinking you are the problem. Daemon feels entitled to you. You need to show him he is not, but that you are giving yourself to him. He needs to value you. The treasure to his dragon.

“Daor!” You say, firmly. You push him away. Whatever he anticipated, you giving him a fight wasn't something he was prepared for. It shows in the way he folds, stunned by your behavior. You give him hard little slaps to the chest, until you manage to get him off you.

Daemon's scowl turns more confused than angry. He looks at you as if you are a particularly challenging riddle to crack. He rightens his clothes and starts to retreat.

“Daor.” You repeat, grabbing at his shirt to keep him in place. You do not want him to leave.

Daemon wretches free from your grip on his arm. He mutters something, angered.

“Daor.” You use his trick against him, stepping right into his path and forcing him to back off. You use your body to make him advance backwards, toward the bed.

He sits on the edge of it, still scowling. You giggle, making Daemon madder still. You look at him with what you hope is a seductive expression and pull your bodice down.

“Bodmagho?” You ask him, as your dress pools around your feet, leaving you in a sheer shift. Daemon's eyes darken. His expression changes into an amused smile, and he gestures for you to come to him.

You do. You step closer and get on his lap. His hands envelop your waist, warm and calloused.

Then, the unexpected. Daemon grabs your hair and pulls, forcing your head back. You moan, pain and arousal mixing into an unknown emotion that makes the place between your legs slick.

You can feel his breath against your neck, making you shiver. His face comes closer, and closer. Daemon stares into your eyes, lips slightly parted. You mirror his expression, feeling as if you are being consumed by your lust.

He arches an eyebrow. Never been one to shy away from a challenge, you brush his lower lip with his thumb. Daemon parts his lips and sucks it in his mouth.

The shock must have shown on your face because he laughs, giving your thumb a playful bite. You squirm, instinct overpowering modesty, and roll your hips against his.

The two of you stare at each other. Closer, and closer, until his features blur, until two purple eyes turn into one. A dragon turned cyclops by the mere force of lust. There is hunger and want, and confusion. Both of you are so close that you are sharing the same air, the same breath. And Daemon pulls, and you are kissing, and you shake in his arms, feeling like how you think the gods must have felt when the cyclopes formed the lighting.

His hands go to greedily knead at your thighs, slipping under your shift. His palms feel rough against your skin, impatient. The shift rides up, up, up. You mewl against his mouth, desperately reaching for something unknown to you but that you know Daemon will help you reach.

You are restless as he pets you, biting at your mouth, hands sinking in his hair. You tug him towards your neck, knowing his kisses, scorching hot, would burn even sweeter along your nape and ears.

Daemon, though, has other plans. He pulls away and pecks you on the lips. “Vūjigon ” He says. He touches his mouth. “Vūjigon”

You kiss him, softly. “Vūjigon”

He pets your hair.

“Vūjigon.” And he points to his collarbones. You frown in confusion, thinking perhaps the word doesn't mean what you think it does. He sighs and leans in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the space between your collarbones.

“Vūjigon.” You perk up, and start kissing his shoulders. Your hands pull his shirt more open, letting you bite and lick more of his flesh. The urge to consume and be consumed is overpowering, making you desperate to touch him.

Daemon laughs. He pulls you upwards. Can't he see you are starving?

“Daor.” He says, when you try to go back to it. You give him your fiercest pout. Daemon tuts at you.

He squeezes one of your breasts, making you moan, before cruelly twisting the bud. You gasp, your nails digging on his naked shoulders.

“Shhh.” Daemon soothes you, his hand going to squeeze your breast tenderly once more. “Daor?”

You don't know how to tell him what you want, so you grab his hand and make him pinch the tender bud again. Daemon smiles. He kisses you, muttering something fervently on your lips.

He lays you down on the bed, despite your attempts to sit up. Daemon pins you down with a growl, hand on your chest.

You can't help it. No matter the warning, you squirm as if you were in pain. It certainly feels like it. There is some sort of hunger in your belly, making you want to rub your core against him. You can feel your shift starting to become wet right above your tailbone. Daemon has you so bothered you are dripping into the shift and the bed.

Daemon gives you another growl and leans down to bite your breast over the fabric of your shift. It's meant to be punishment, but you arch into it, gasping.

He laughs. He takes as much of it as it can fit in his mouth, sucking greedily. The noises are obscene. The sight must be, too. Your mouth, open, moaning yourself into a frenzy. Daemon, nipping, biting, sucking, like a man starved. Your shift with two giant wet spots, one at the chest and the other by your arse.

You moan, surprised at the feeling. You had never thought bodies could be used in such a way before. Nor had you hoped for him to please you so eagerly.

His lips close around your bud. His tongue twirls around it, lavishing it with attention. You grab at his hair, his nape, desperately trying to hold onto something. Daemon just sucks harder on your breast. You moan, and moan, and moan some more. Desperate little sounds, gathering in the air around a desperate girl.

He switches to your other breast. Your shift feels sticky on your skin, so you start trying to take it off. The task distracts you enough for his hand to find its way to your core, and you squeak at the first sensation of his fingers against it.

Daemon smiles against your skin. He presses a finger inside you, and you squeal some more. He lets go of your breast to better gaze into your overwhelmed face, seemingly getting an enjoyment out of it.

Another finger joins the first. You cry out. It stings a bit. Daemon shushes you, kissing your cheek. He rubs at something above your opening that makes you squirm in delight.

His other hand comes into your sight. Daemon makes a gesture, two fingers together, separating. You stare. He nuzzles you, his cheek against yours, before repeating it.

You nod with a pout.

He starts prying you open slowly, this time. Despite enjoying causing pain, it appears your cooperation has granted you privileges with Daemon. He understood the distress on your face, and read you correctly enough to know it was not going to go well if he kept going as he was.

Daemon rubs at your shoulders, soothingly. You understand you need to relax, and force your body to do so. He kisses you in reward, slow and sweet, coaxing you to him.

You nod again. Daemon moves back, settling himself by your side. He takes your shift away, pressing soft little kisses to each new inch of skin revealed.

The sudden removal of your last layer makes you shiver a little. Your skin is wet from his previous ministrations and rapidly cooling. You plaster yourself to him, seeking warmth.

He chuckles, grabbing your arse to move you slightly out of the way. You scowl, not sure why Daemon is doing so, until you realize he is taking off his breeches.

“Daemon.” You whisper, softly. There is a part of you that is already cringing at the promise of pain the loss of your maidenhead will bring.

“Daor?” He asks you, one of his hands petting your cunt. It makes you shiver.

“Bodmagho.” You grasp at his shoulders, steadying yourself. Daemon lines the two of you. You feel his member at your entrance, holding you open and threatening to spear you apart. It feels scorching against your skin.

He helps you impale yourself on his member. It's not pleasant at first. Property dictates that you should not let him see your discomfort. You should just bear it like a good wife and allow him to chase his pleasure unbothered.

But you know Daemon enjoys causing pain. He thrives on it. So you let your eyes fill with tears, and your face goes slack and overwhelmed.

He smiles. He licks your tears away, and mumbles something. You squeal, and it only excites him more.

“Bodamagho.” Daemon pinches the flesh on your hip, clearly calling you to focus. His hands move your pelvis back and forth, back and forth, until you are hissing in pleasure, your hands on his chest, doing the movement yourself.

“Vūjigon.” You demand, moving your hips just like he taught you. Daemon is too focused on aiding you bounce by thrusting upwards to pay attention to you. When he doesn't obey, you give a tug to his hair.

He snarls at you. You snarl back. So he grabs your wrists and pushes sideways, and suddenly, you are under him and Daemon is still thrusting into you.

You are desperate for closeness. You scrunch up your face and wrap your legs around his back. Daemon looks down at you, and bites your shoulder. He is not pleased with your perceived attempt to take control.

Realizing your mistake, you shake your head.

“Daor.” You rub at his back with your foot, gently. You hold him close, and nuzzle his neck, delighting in his scent. Never you had thought before you would enjoy the smell of sweat and some sort of aromatic oil, yet here you are. “Vūjigon.”

Daemon's expressions softens. He leans in and gives you a kiss. You make pleased, chirping noises, trying to show him that was precisely what you wanted.

He complies, releasing your hands. You enthusiastically hug him. It helps you anchor yourself against the unrelenting waves of pleasure.

His hands, now freed from yours, are everywhere. Twisting your buds, rubbing at your pearl, squeezing your waist. Daemon whispers nonsense in your ears, takes the lobe between his teeth. He aids you, tilting your hips with his hands, reaching deeper.

You heard a story once, about Westeros. A white hart was said to come to the greatest Kings alive. A magnificent beast, tall as a man, with skin made of the purest snow and antlers as long and imposing as the branches of an ancient tree. If a King encountered it, it was a good omen for his rule. It would be just and prosperous, blessed by the Gods.

What did they do with the hart? Keep it in Kingswood, perhaps? You had made the mistake of asking, once. You had been told that they used the best spear they had. That men held the hart down, and they gutted it from head to belly.

The perfect, regal beast, fur as pale as snow. The pristine white sheets under you. Blood tainting the white. What a way to go.

You understood then why they called it a small death. You were sweating, squealing like a beast being gutted, thighs trembling under Daemon's hands. It was too much and too little, and you felt yourself reaching it, yearning for it.

You did not care if you burned, moth to a flame, maiden to a dragon. Daemon seemed to realize it because his hand went to rub at your pearl, and he leaned in.

“….” He was talking, but it was in that strange language of his, and your ears were ringing, you felt about to explode. Your body responded to his tone, though. Gentle, loving, coaxing you over the edge with a scream so fierce you might as well have been one of those weeping women that appeared far north.

Daemon grinned at you. A fierce, proud expression, eyes crinkling in the corners. You pulled him into a kiss, and raked your nails down his back, feeling the skin yield like butter under your fingers. It spurred him on, and with a gasp and a bite to your shoulder, Daemon was shattering inside you.

He collapsed on top of you with a laugh. You smiled. Daemon pulled you to rest, back flush against his chest, and you understood each other better than those who spoke the same, common tongue, did.

[rottiens]

PRETTY IN THE DARK | GETŌ SUGURU

✮ tags. . noncon/dubcon vampire getō x human fem reader, blood, objectification, 18+ mdni. divider creds: cafekitsune. | WC: 2.3K

✮ about. . in your desire to protect your family, you end up making a deal with the devil.

He is sitting in the dining room when you enter the room. Your body doesn't react with a shrug of muscles as it was usual to do every time you encountered him wandering around as if he owned your apartment, but your heartbeat detonates as if someone has pushed you from behind and you plummet into the void.

Shadows take over every corner of your place as if this were their and Suguru's home and not yours. You breathe, exhaling the fright that has frozen your veins and move towards the switch blindly, sliding your fingers along the wall until you manage to make light.

Suguru squints his eyes being struck by the ace of light. He is sitting in one of the chairs with his elbows on the small wooden table, he has a half bun tying part of his hair up, the rest of the black hair falls down his back perfectly. The turtleneck sweater is new, it makes him look more elegant and you almost laugh at how formal he looks.

"I wasn't expecting you today," you say approaching, dropping the keys of the apartment on the table surface. You want to tell him he's quite the dramatist for setting this scene for you, the waiting in the dark in your apartment god knows what for so long, the absence of light, the black clothes… you wonder how long he's lasted waiting there for you, if he's gone through your kitchen, if he's rummaged through your clothes.

His clear eyes scan your face as if reading what you're thinking, then he notices the paper bags you drop next to your keys before answering. "I thought I'd stop by for a snack" He replies with a mocking tone.

"What's this?" you reach out to grab the glass bottle in front of him. Inside a red, almost black liquid swirls amusedly as you move it back and forth in search of something to give you a clue as to what it might be and you pray it's not what you're thinking.

"Beet juice." The confession makes you scrunch up your face in distaste. Okay, it wasn't what you were thinking but this doesn't make it any less gross. "It's good for the red blood cells."

You squint to examine it better. Was he giving you a gift? Was that what he meant? The vampire who had threatened to kill your family if you didn't feed him your blood?

"I'm not going to drink it." You set the bottle down on the table with a thud.

"You will. I need you to be healthy." There it is, the reason. You should have known better.

Suguru pulls his hands away from his face that drop his jaw, invisible hands squeeze your chest at the sight of him again, it was a strange feeling having him erase your memory after feeding on you to make you forget details about him that you don't need to know, just in case you decide to expose him to the church. So seeing him always makes you feel uneasy, he is handsome, his small eyes are intimidating and the whole aura around him makes you feel tiny.

"Shall we get this over with?" you raise an eyebrow looking to put an end to an encounter that shouldn't be any longer than necessary. You move the sleeve of your sweater up revealing your right wrist which begins to heal, at the juncture are two dots on your skin, around them the flesh takes on a yellowish color.

Suguru gets up from his seat and without taking his eyes off you sits on the chair next to you. His fingers take your hand gently, without wasting time he brings it to his mouth and his lips brush against your skin causing you to tingle, he breathes in your scent, breathes in the essence of your skin with his eyes closed.

"Stand up," he suddenly orders.

You move against the wall, trembling with fear and anticipation. Suguru is in front of you taking up all the space that allows you to see the rest of the room, your gaze riveted on the silver cross hanging from his neck and you snort at the irony.

With his finger he lifts your chin and makes you look at him, you want to run away, but you force yourself to be brave by chewing on the bottom of your cheek.

"You don’t have to compelled me." Suguru raises an eyebrow, questioningly. "I'm not going to scream."

Surprise marks the wrinkles at the corner of his mouth in a brief smile. "You want to feel the pain?"

You shake your head before pulling your face away from his finger yanking back. "I just want to know what it feels like." You feel guilty. A bitter cocktail rises in your stomach, you think it's unfair to have to be protecting your family without knowing exactly how you do it, what happens before, during or after. You feel guilty for not feeling pain.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me?" he speaks softly. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut ignoring the hotness that suddenly chokes you.

Instead of answering you reach out your hand, you hear him chuckle softly and when you sense him lowering your hand back to its place you turn hurriedly to look for him, wondering why. The hope that he is going to let you go today crosses in front of you.

"I want from the vein in your neck."

You swallow. Suguru can't disguise staring at your throat and how it rises and falls. Wordlessly you push down on the fabric of the sweater collar and let him see the vein pulsing rapidly thanks to your racing heart.

Suguru moves closer to you, his teeth grazing you as if testing how fast he can break the skin. Then, he deposits a kiss that makes you clench your lips to keep from moaning, his tongue glides in wet circles that that warm the area and your body trembles.

"Hold still."

Is all you hear before suguru opens his mouth in an inhuman way and sinks his long fangs into your neck, the pain making you moan involuntarily. His fangs are sharp needles that sink into the flesh and pierce until they leave two holes just enough for blood to spill out of the vein. The piercing pain stops, instead you feel his soft lips sucking like he's giving a hickey.

"It hurts…" you whimper.

The sounds of your blood gurgling in his mouth deafens you, you drop your eyelids as he pushes your head further to the side in an awkward position so he has the space to go deeper and chase the spilling crimson stream.

A hand-shaped snake crawls up your navel, searches for the button of your pants and in seconds undoes it to find your panties. Suguru stops feeding to speak in your ear.

"I'm going to make you feel better." His voice is almost unrecognizable, less friendly, deeper and more terrifying. "I'm going to keep feeding on you and you're going to cum on my long fingers."

You don't even respond. You can't complain because of the way your hands lose feeling and your knees buckle. Suguru goes back to sucking as the pad of his cold fingers push your pussy lips wide open and squeeze your clit back and forth almost in a lazy way. You squint harder to imagine that you're not there, that you're somewhere else and this isn't happening. Because what kind of person would you be if you felt pleasure because this creature, who every week comes to feed on you, is making you feel good?

He slips a finger easily inside you masking the pain in your neck with pleasure. Suguru pushes it in as if searching for something, then adds another finger and a louder moan tears your throat. Suguru pauses to lay his forehead on your throat, giving one last lick to the open wound that slowly stops bleeding and just lies there enjoying his long fingers parting your wet pussy.

"You taste so good when you're aroused," he growls, thrusting slowly. "I can hardly stop myself."

His fingers increase the intensity of his strokes, massaging your pussy in an erotic back-and-forth, scissoring his fingers and thumb touching your clit. It doesn't take your body long to reach orgasm, shattering you to pieces and making the lack of blood make you feel dizzy. Helpless and weak, you cling to his sweater, intoxicated in the peculiar perfume that envelops him until you begin to see black and everything becomes one big swirl that makes you fall into a deep sleep.

. . . When you wake up you are in your bed, lying on your back with one of your plush blankets covering your legs. You try to sit up but your body aches, especially your neck. You bring your fingers to where the wound should be but find the soft fabric of one of your scarves wrapped around your neck.

"Was I too rough?" This time, your body does react by curling up on the mattress. You pull your legs up to the level of your chest and search for the voice that burst into your room.

You find him as a long figure standing at the edge of the bed looking down at you from above. Did he care? Clearly not, because his mischievous-looking smile tells you otherwise.

You begin to tremble as he approaches, your gaze following him as you watch him come closer to you. The bed sinks with his weight, he reaches for one of your arms hugging your knees and pulls it towards him, Suguru brings the back of your hand to his mouth and leaves a kiss there, and the scene is so intimate that it feels awkward to you.

His body sensation is not icy cold as it normally is, his warm hands mimic the warmth of an ordinary man and you have a theory that it is due to the temperature change your fresh blood briefly carries in him, this only lasts a couple of minutes after all.

You wonder what he's doing, what he's playing at. Your heart leaps out of your chest the moment Suguru starts a path of kisses from your palm to your wrist, your blood turns icy cold after he stops on your wrist, you stutter his name, you think he's going to bite you again but what he does instead takes you by surprise.

Suguru gives you a long lick, the taste of your body cream diluted in the day's sweat soaks his tongue, then he closes his lips around the area and makes a hickey. Red, small, and when he pulls away to contemplate his creation it almost looks like the shape of a map. He crawls from your skin reluctantly and looks at you between heavy lashes, there's lust in his gaze mixed with hunger and desire and you hate yourself for the way your body reacts, your nipples harden and your pussy gets wet for him again.

"What-"

"No one touches my property." Your eyes widen. "This should carry a message to whoever you're fucking, unless of course, you wish me to show up in person to your job."

You reeked of man perfume and it made him want to throw up. He didn't want to smell someone else's scent on you when he was feeding.

"That's not of your business," you spit with a boiling face and a flutter in your stomach, tugging at your hand to escape the trap it had fallen into but it's only in vain because his strength is triple yours and you don't move an inch. "Our deal is just my blood."

"Perhaps," suguru murmurs, flashing you in a brief smile just the tips of the fangs that a moment ago were digging into you. "But it will be your fault when I bring their head as an offering along with another bottle of beet juice."

You struggle to hold back tears of helplessness. He grins again and his teeth cut through the darkness, you clear your throat to fight back and say it's not fair however Suguru gets up before you can.

Gracefully, he gives a brief tour of the room. You are embarrassed that he finds it in this state, books on your bed, shoes out of place and clothes on the floor. You were in a rush this morning, you were going to be late and you prioritized time over tidying your safe space as you rummaged through your uniform shirt.

He removes the hair tie that grips his mane and lets it fall all the way down his back like a dark waterfall as he looks down at the jeans on the floor, on top of it is a pair of light pink panties that he observes undisguised. As if every move is planned he ties all his hair back into a high ponytail, the movements causes the black sweater to ride up his abdomen revealing a wink of toasted skin, with a line of hair revealing itself at the edges of his pants and rising blurred to his belly button.

"How are you feeling?" He asks suddenly, dropping his arms to either side.

"Do you even care?" you reply curtly, looking down at his feet. You glance up at him in time to see him smirk, clearly amused by your attitude.

Suguru moves towards you again and you wonder when you will stop feeling not enough in his presence. He sits at your feet, puts his hand to his mouth and bites down hard. Your body squirms at the action, raw fear showing on your wrinkled nose and furrowed brow.

"Drink," he says reaching out, droplets of blood slipping onto your favorite blanket.

"No."

"It's not a request, sweetheart." You don't understand what he intends by this but you don't seek to make him angry either, so you lean down and wrap your lips around his skin to finally suck the blood that spurts out of him.

The taste of iron is so strong it's unbearable. Your mouth fills with saliva and your stomach knots warning you with rejecting what you are drinking, you want to move away but his hand is behind the back of your neck pulling you closer to him and preventing your escape.

"Keep sucking. Your wound will heal faster that way."

You blink faster pushing away the tears that peek out, you close your eyes tightly becoming oblivious to what you are doing, his fingers pampering your hair as if you were a pet. Stroking you gently.

"Swallow. That's a good girl."

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 4

Dropping Esme off at home turns into more than just a simple kiss and ride. She parks and walks Esme to the front door. The tears had petered out halfway home, but it had left Esme shaky and exhausted. And when Alex opens the door to welcome them home, she can barely get out a "how was it?" before Esme bursts into fresh tears and darts up the stairs to her bedroom.

Alex watches her daughter go, then turns back to Kara with an accusatory look. Kara sighs. "It's a long story."

"I'll put the kettle on."

Over tea, Kara gives her sister the rundown of the evening-- omitting certain bits of her own exhanges with Lena. By the end, Alex is stunned, but heartbroken for her daughter.

"The highest of highs, and lowest of lows," Alex moans. "I was already going to call her out of school tomorrow, but now I really need to."

Kara nods. "I hope she'll remember the night more for what actually happened than the fact she lost the pictures of it. She really did have a good time, til she realized."

"What a night," Alex sighs. "Well, thank you for stepping in. I know she appreciated the time with you, in any case."

"Yeah," Kara nods. "Me too."

"You should come over more. She's not the only one who misses you."

"Alex..."

"You're not the only busy, I get that, but it sucks being the only one to reach out."

Kara closes her eyes. They've had variations of this conversation before, but it didn't make it any easier to hear. It's been busy lately, the last few years. And she knows she's missing out on key times with Esme, but... she's never been very good at juggling.

"I know." Then, "I should go. I'll call the venue in the morning, see if maybe one of the cleaning crew finds the phone and turns it in to lost and found or something."

All Alex can do is nod. "Thanks."

All thoughts of the ticket in her pocket disappears until the next day. Her calls to the arena have been fruitless-- no one had found anything, and no amount of cajoling or bribery could make them devote manpower to look for it. So when she's emptying her pockets to run a load of laundry, she's so frustrated she's willing to chuck it into the sun.

Until she sees a loop of a swoopy letter written on it, half hidden by a folded crease. Puzzled, Kara smooths it out and flips it over-- and finds a phone number written across its face in silver sharpie.

Stunned, Kara stares at the offending digits.

"What the fuck?"

---

It's probably her manager, Kara reasons. Or her assistant, at the very least. But when she punches the number into her phone, driven by the echo of her promise to Esme in her ears, she instantly recognizes the voice that answers.

"Hello?"

Kara's mouth goes dry. "Uhhhhhh.... hi? Shit. I mean--"

"I'm glad you called," Lena interrupts smoothly. "I have a phone here that's sorely missing its owner."

"Oh thank god," Kara releases with a heavy sigh. "Thank you."

"Sorry we weren't able to catch you before you left. I didn't see it until late."

"Esme was heartbroken," Kara tells her, unnecessarily. "You've saved a life."

"Her life? Or yours?" There's a tease in Lena's voice.

Kara grins. "Both. Definitely both."

A chuckle rumbles across the line. "Well, how can we get this to you?"

"Oh, if you could ship it..."

"No need," Lena says simply. "We're in town for another day or so. Is there a place we can deliver it?"

Kara blinks, surprised. "Um, sure. I'll be at my office in an hour."

"Perfect."

Kara rattles off the address to her, then books it to the office, determined not to miss the delivery. She stays on edge for the first hour, but soon finds herself distracted by her work-- until her assistant knocks tentatively on her door before poking her head in.

One look at Eve's baffled and somewhat dazed expression sends a bolt of electricity down Kara's spine.

"Miss Danvers? Um... there's someone here to see you. She-- she says its a personal delivery?"

Kara is already on her feet. "I'll take care of it. Thank you, Eve."

"It's--"

"I know," Kara assures her.

"You... know her?"

Kara sighs. "It's complicated."

She makes her way to the lobby, finding Lena Luthor leaning casually against the front desk, completely unbothered by the gazes peeking at her from between frosted sections of the glass walls.

"If you'd have told me you planned to bring it yourself, I would've given you a different address," Kara says drolly. Lena looks up at her with a puckish grin. "You're about to give the entire office an aneurysm."

"Sorry, not sorry." Entirely unapologetic, Lena straightens, pushing softly away from the desk to face Kara directly.

Kara folds her arms across her chest, unable to help the smile spreading across her own features. Lena lifts an eyebrow, retrieving Esme's phone from her back pocket to waggle it teasingly.

"Thank you...." Kara reaches for it, only for Lena to tilt it out of reach. Kara rolls her eyes. "What?"

"I'm... gonna be honest," Lena drags out, smirking. "I didn't come here with truly altruistic purposes."

Kara resettles her weight, cocking one hip. "This is becoming a pattern with you, Miss Luthor."

"I'm only human, you know." She taps Esme's phone on her chin. "And I'm not above taking a teenager's phone hostage, if it gets me a coffee with a gorgeous woman."

Bold. Entirely *too* bold. But Kara can't quite bring herself to mind.

"You have me at a disadvantage," she returns. "I really need that phone."

"Then a coffee with a charming lady seems to be in your very near future."

Kara rolls her eyes. "Let me grab my purse."

Lena waits patiently, and Kara doesn't bother pausing to explain a damn thing to anyone. It's none of their business, and right now she's a woman on a mission.

To get her goddaughter's phone.

And absolutely nothing else.

[itsss4t4n]

How long is Forever? - Harry Hook x daughter of alice in wonderland

Headcanons but the longer version of this post:

a/n: this is based more on tim burtons aiw adaptation as it is the only one that i know, and i might have misremembered some of the story/ characters so i apologize if its inaccurate to wonderland or its characters in any way. I got way to invested in creating the character and story and almost forgot that that wasnt the point. At some point i think the character just completely changes and i low key hate it. Im really bad at writing headcannons instead of full fledged fics.

Trigger warnings: fighting, she /her pronouns used, slight angst toward the end but happy ending, not proofread

-being alices daughter you are considered kind of weird by the aks, (think luna lovegood), you are kind of dreamy and constantly in your own thoughts but you still have a very strong own opinion on everything. You say what you think even if others might not like that. 

-You also have a very different sense of style than most girls in auradon. You played alot with different colours and textures always looking slightly crazy (you took inspiration from your godfather, the mad hatter). Your blonde hair was cut to a short messy bob with short bangs, and always changing coloured streaks throughout.

-you dont have the same view of good and bad as most others , and you dont think the vks should be judged by what their parents did and immediately try to befriend them and continuesly defend them

-when mal runs away to the isle you insist on joining the other vks and ben, as you do well in new and different invironments and later because you are an incredible sword fighter, your mother having thought you all she knows, just in case you ever needed to fight a jabberwookie type beast yourself.

-Due to your personal style not being very auradon, you didnt really have to disguise as much as ben when going to the isle. 

-On the isle you felt surprisingly comfortable, as you liked the weird and almost liminal athmosphere that it had 

-the first time you met harry was right after bens kidnapping, when harry came to tell you all about it.

-Harry has this theatrical almost a little eccentric way of talking and moving, which intruiged you pretty quickly. Of course , You didnt like or trust him, he did just kidnap one of your best friends, but you were intruiged non the less.

"And who is this little lassy?"

You told him your name with a glint of interest and mischif in your eyes. "Daughter of Alice in Wonderland."

"How interesting."

"I was just thinking the same thing. Whats your Name?"

"Harry Hook." He introduced himself with adramatic bow, before making fun of jay and barking at carlos.

- The other three had watched the interaction in confusion and wonder. They knew you were a little odd but seeming this confortable with harry after knowing what he did to ben?

"What was that?!" 

"What?" 

"Dont be nice to hook! He just kidnapped your best friend!"

"yea.. But he is quite interesting." And as an afterthougt: "and kind of pretty dont you think?"

"NO! Concentrate please. He is the enemie alright?!"

"Yea whatever, lets go tell mal about this shit."

-You go with Mal and evie to see dizzy, and instantly get along.

-Later while Mal and Uma are talking (singing), you cant help your eyes from glancing over at harry every few seconds. He did look good, with his red coat, the old silver jook on his left hand, and the messy black eyeshadow around his striking blue eyes.

"He is really beutiful dont you think?" That question was mostly directed towards evie who just shot you a dissapproving look. "I'm just saying. purely aesthetically."

-You simply shrugged and watched the situation continue to unfold, swordhand on the hilt of your sword at your side. When the fight breaks out you stand against harry. For better of for forse.

"Hello Pretty boy." You raise you swordand get into a defensive position.

"Wonderland girl."

-You kept making little comments about his looks and his sword fighting which he of course returned in his own flirty way. You quite enjoyed going back and forth like that. Witty comments, smirks and flirty smiles, and fighting more for show at this point instead of actually trying to beat each other. Trying to make this surprisingly pleasant moment last as long as possible.

-until you heard an urgend shout of your name from Mal.

"Sorry in advance." In a quick movement you snatched harrys hook and threw it down into the water. Before a shoked Harry can jump after it you catch his arm and talk to him in a slightly hushed voice.

"I really hope this wasnt our last meeting pretty boy." Before running off with the others.

-You dont see each other again until Audrey turns evil, but you do still think about harry. Is it stupid considering you met like twice and he was you enemy? Yea. Did you care? not really. He was georgeous, funny, good with a sword. Your dream guy. Except for the fact that he was supposedly your enemy. but then again when had you ever cared about that kinda stuff.

-His black lined blue piercing eyes were burned into your brain.

-In the six months until you saw him again you had become mal and bens unofficial bodyguard, spening most of your time with them or with evie, your sword has taken permanent residence at your side, only taking it of to sleep or shower and even then it was always in grabbing distance. Mals paranoia about uma had actually started to get to you.

-You are at evies house when audrey shows up and spells mal. You join them in going back to the isle to retrieve hades ember.

-When your bikes get stolen you cant help but smile at the sight. Yea its shitty but he is still beautiful.

"Pretty boy!"

He drawls you name in his scottish accent and you mentally swoon.

"Thats my bike!"

"Oh yea? Come and get it back then." Before driving of.

-You run after them (except mal and celia ofc),and at one point you split upbecause the boys on the bikes did so. You follow harry and when the others are out of sight he slows to a stop. You catch up to him with a grin.

"Nice to see you again Hook. I was hoping we would meet again."

"I was too Lassie."

-The next 10-ish minutes are filled with flirty banter and tales of what happened in the last six months. It felt like you've known each other for years (as clichee as that sounds). 

-You almost forgot why you were there until you heard jay shouting your name.

"Where are you, Mal got the thing come on."

You quickly turn to Harry again.

"Go! Before they see you and make it a whole thing."

"What bout your bike?"

"Keep it pretty boy, i doubt the others got theirs back so it would be weird if i did."

With a last sly grin harry leans towards you "I will see you again very soon." 

Before you could question what 'very soon' meant, he had already driven of. 

Just in time because Jay and the others turned the corner behind you.

"There you are! What are you doing? come on!"

"Sorry. Was chasing after the bike." You Give them a small smile before walking past them. "You coming?"

-To say you were surprised when harry and gil jumped through the barries after them would be an understatement.

"Pretty boy?!"

"'ello Darling. we're just coming for a wee visit" 

-You tried , just like evie, to get the two groups to work together. Harry mostly walked next to you or Uma. At some point you hung back so he culd walk in between you and doesnt have to kep switching. He caught up with uma but still kept the constant flirts towards you up.

-Everyone was really confused on why you two seemed so good and almost comfortable around each other, not to mention the flirting. Evie was the only one who knew of your little crush so she send you a few knowing smirks.

-During the knight fight you and harry fought as a team. Incedibly well might i say. 

-You were somewhat enthusiastic about evies icebreaker idea, enjoying the idea that the two groups could finally work together.

"Harry great accent."

"Shes right. It is a good accent."

-The flirting just wouldnt stop, comments thrown at each other, bumping shoulders while walking, even brushing your hands against each others on occasion. You had joined the boys in looking for ben.

"To make sure jay and harry dont kill each other."

-Gil doing the icebreaker and bonding with jay. 

meanwhile you and harry in the background:

"We should do that icebreaker pretty boy."

"oh yea?"

"Yea. You've got really pretty eyes."

"And you are really good with a sword lass." His hook just slightly gracing your cheek before something in gil and jays conversation sparks his interest.

-When finding ben you had immediately pushed harry behind you and unsheathed your sword out of instinct. Jay has to pull both of you out of bens way because both of you got distrcated by how close you were standing to each other. After making sure ben was alright you made sure harry was too.

(instead of flirting with jane he flirts with you)

"Well well well, thank you for trying to protect me there darling." The hook was under you chin this time.

"No problem pretty boy." You smirk back.

Ben had his little freak out. Jay and carlos had one too for slightly different reasons.

"when did this happen? you and hook?"

You just shrugged and started walking off.

The boys just looked at eachother thouroghly confused.

-After everyone reuniting and you secretely updating evie on the harry situation you all made your way to fairy cottage. When you found chad you had to half hide in harrys shoulder to hide your laughter because god was it good to see chad taken down a few pecks like that.

-Then Mal dropped the bomb. Closing the barrier forever. You couldnt believe it. You were always a firm believer in the vk programm. And you had honestly hoped that even if harry etc were send back, they would get out someday, or you might go visit them. You considered them freinds at that point. But now that wasnt possible.  You tried to comfort harry and uma in some way but it was to no avail.

"Im so sorry you guys... I didnt know." You had tears in your eyes yourself.

"Dont worry about it Darling. Its nae your fault." Placing his hand, his actual hand, on your cheek for a second, to wipe away the tear that had fallen. Before he walked of with uma.

"Harry....."

Mal was shocked to see your tears at the fact that harry was leaving. she had absolutely no idea this was a thing. It wasnt really. you didnt have enough time for it to actually become a thing. You watched harry and uma leave before evie walked up to you to hug you. 

She talked to mal but you didnt want to listen.

suddenly there was a bright light before it went dark for a bit. When you came to again, Mal was gone. It didnt take you guys long to piece together what must have happened. so you went to find mal.

-You and harry were both incredibly relieved to see that the other was okay. *cue big hug and an almost kiss that turned into a kind of awkward cheek kiss before another hug * 

-Harry announcing that he is actually going back to the isle felt like another punch in the gut. Again that sounds dumb considereing how little you actually knew each other but you didnt care. 

-Harry and you talked before he left. He gave you one of his rings "so you wont forget me darling". So you give him one of yours "then dont you forget me either". *cue more crying and hugs, between all of you *

-Mal announcing that the barrier will be taken down during the engagement party was the best thing that couldve happened to you at that point.

"Looks like you get a chance with your pretty boy after all." Evie.

Uma to harry on the isle: "Now you can get your pretty girl, pretty boy." While bumbing his shoulder.

As soon as you could spot eachother on the bridge you ran into each others arms.

-Kith

-like a lot of em

-Your friends from both sides were incredibly happy for both of you.

[ethereal-night-fairy]

Silver Tongues, like Bullets

Chapter 2

Werewolf!141 x Female Reader

Your camera held darker secrets than any of the men anticipated. It was also the first nail in your coffin. They may have let you go had they foregone seeing those pictures.

Warnings: MDNI, dark themes, manipulation, drugging, punishments, kidnapping, non-con touching, non-con looking, stealing nudes, breast slapping, groping, manhandling, implied jerking off, poly 141 taking care of reader, BDSM themes?, Sorry if I missed any.

Silver Tongues like Bullets Masterlist

Word: 6k

-23/11/2023

A blanket of darkness had fallen over the cabin, the night air getting much icier than before. Not that it bothered any of the boys. They had thick skin and were susceptible to surviving in harsh weather. It was you who they were worried about. It was a shock when they all first saw you. No one was supposed to be able to find this place, not easily that is. It caused a slight rift in the dynamic of the pack. With Gaz and Soap wanting to help you and him and Ghost walking on the edge of caution. In the end they decided to wait and see. And if they thought they needed to they'd have you restrained until they could confirm your innocence.

Soap had gotten you a blanket but you were still shivering even with the fire burning hot. Price was growing suspicious. Were you purposely acting pitiful to gather their trust? Were you trying to make yourself out to be less of a threat? Gaz looked at you with pity as he started plating the food for everyone. A nice cut of venison with some military ration sides. Ghost seeing you weren't able to regulate your body heat goes to gather more wood from the wood pile. While all this going on Soap can't help but ask you every question under the moon. You were quiet and reluctant to answer anything too personal.

Price comes out of the cabin with a first aid kit. You tense up when he approaches you. Like you were just looking for a chance to run. Your behaviour was strange. You were the one to ask for help yet you looked like you wanted to be anywhere but here. He didn't know what to make of it. His first instinct was to think you were a spy who was caught snoopy and just made a cover story to buy time. If that was the case they needed to stay on high alert if they were being watched by someone. For now he told his boys to stay on the edge of caution even after Ghost had secured the parameters. They couldn't be too careful.

Price came to sit beside you. Holding out his hands to look at your injuries. With some reluctance you eventually place your shaky hands in his. Price held your fragile skin with tenderness. Making sure to wipe away the blood and dirt with care. The damage wasn't extensive but you had certainly taken a fall somewhere in the forest on the way here.

You looked disheveled and extremely tired. You flinch and whimper from time to time as Price applies pressure and the iodine on your busted skin. The sounds definitely caused emotions to stir in all of the men. Pair that with your intoxicating scent the situation was a little too convenient.

Such a delicate thing you were, you didn't look like you could do much harm. But you can't really trust anyone, not in situations like these. They're been hunted for far too long to not be cautious of strangers approaching them for help. As lovely as you were, the timing and your behaviour was odd.

-

You held a cup of hot chocolate to your chest, the warm ceramic starving off the cold from your fingers. The blanket wrapped around wasn't doing much for you anymore, maybe you were coming down with a fever. But it was hard to tell because you were so tired. The situation wasn't ideal. You didn't want to be here. And by the looks of it the men didn't want you here either. Fatigue was settling in and you could feel your eyes drooping. The fire was on its last leg, only a couple embers glowing in the dark. You had offered to help clean up but they kindly told you to rest. You watch them mull around tidying up as Soap keeps you busy with idle chatter.

They didn't say much about themselves nor did they indulge you with your questions. The only information they gave you were their weird nicknames and that they were here on a short break after an extended work trip. You couldn't blame them, you wouldn't share too much information with a stranger either. Despite the shaky introduction the men were very sweet to you. Price had helped patch up some superficial cuts on your hands and legs, while Gaz got you something to eat and drink. You were even given a blanket when the fire wasn't enough to starve off the cold. They even offered to drive you into town the next morning. Your parents definitely warned you about trusting strangers, especially men but these four didn't seem so bad. Hopefully you'll be able to call them soon to let them know you were ok. Though you weren't looking forward to the lecture you were going to receive when you got home tomorrow.

Gaz had gone in first to set up your sleeping arrangements. Price followed soon after with the dirty dishes and utensils in hand. You sit for a while longer enjoying your conversation with Soap, despite his forward personality he seemed like a decent fellow. What unnerved you the most was Ghost, he hadn't spoken a single word to you as of yet. On top of that you could only see his eyes. You watch as he puts away the wood in a neat pile beside the cabin. He was a very big man, much bigger than the rest of them. His biceps bulge as he carries the heavy wood to their designated spot. They were all so rugged and well built it made some stir deep inside of you. No one in town looked like that. No one in town had made you feel this amount of tingling between your legs.

You're totally oblivious to the fact Soap is watching you eye Ghost with intrigue or possibly hunger. Maybe a mix of both. You also miss the full canine smirk gracing his features as you continue answering his questions, though a bit sluggishly. He watches your eyes flickering close signaling the effect of the medication slipped into your now empty cup.

The fire finally dies out, causing you to shiver despite having the blanket Soap draped over you. Soap gets up to escort you in while Ghost waits at the entrance of the cabin. You try standing up to follow him, but you find your feet to be unsteady. Everything felt woozy and unfocused, you felt two familiar arms wrapping around your waist, preventing you from falling over your own two feet.

“Careful thare lassie…wouldn't want ye getting hurt again”, he coils his arms around you tighter, taking the brunt of your weight as you try to formulate words in your mouth. He was definitely too close; his face was practically in the crook of your neck. You could feel his hot breath on your cold skin. You wanted to tell him to move, to tell him not to touch you so casually. But your tongue felt like lead. There was a weird aftertaste in your mouth that you were only just noticing. You couldn't move and you felt your head lolling over. Something was wrong…something was very wrong! The cup was in danger of falling from your hands as you tried speaking again. You still needed to ask to borrow a phone to call your parents to let them know you were ok.

You watch Ghost walk towards you, taking the cup from your hands while telling Soap to help you inside. With surprising strength and ease, Soap lifts you in his arms bridal style as your head rests on his shoulder. Your eyes are fighting to stay awake as small grunts and moans leave your mouth. You really couldn't form a sentence even if you tried. He coos and shushes you as tears form in your eyes from frustration. You didn't know what was happening, why couldn't you move? Did they drug you!?

The fire was roaring inside the cabin. The frigid air long forgotten as Soap carries you towards a bedroom. Your eyes were hazy but you could make out Gaz pulling back the duvet to allow Soap to lay you down in the very comfy looking bed. Your whimpers and whines ceased the second your head touched the pillow, your eyes becoming so heavy you had no choice but to close them. Your body sinks down into the cloud-like mattress soothing the ache in your bones. You feel them remove your shoes and then your jacket, moving your body with precision and ease. Their melodic voices whispering sweet words you couldn't make out anymore. Sleep was calling to you, trying to slip your head underwater like a siren. But not before you felt two pairs of lips on your forehead wishing you a restful sleep. Eventually you go under, everything fading into black as the warmth of the duvet surrounds your sore body.

-

“How did you get her down so easily?”, Price inquiries as he settles onto the sofa beside the fire.

“Slipped one of Ghost's melatonin tablets into her hot chocolate”, Gaz walks towards him settling on his lap after placing your phone, wallet and camera on the coffee table.

Once everyone is situated on the sofa that's when Price speaks up again.

“I don't know who she is or how she found us….this place was supposed to be hidden. Laswell organised this trip as an outlet for us to roam freely in our wolf forms. No one was meant to be here apart from us.”

“What if she's a spy?”, Ghost chimes in. “What if she was sent to gather intel on us…it's not the first time an organisation has tried kidnapping one of us.”

“I don't know…she looked pretty beaten up when she found the cabin and her phone was broken…She genuinely could have been lost. She also doesn't have much on her”, Gaz tried to reason with the rest of his lovers. “Not to mention her smell…it was very inviting.”

“Aye she dinnae look like she could dae much harm…But her pheromones were driving meh crazy especially when Price was patching up her cuts.” Soap reaches out for your jacket, giving it a quick sniff to confirm his findings. “Can we keep ‘er? Promise Ah'll treat ‘er gently…fragile little thing she is..would make ah great addition to the pack”

“Let's not forget the last time we let someone close, sunshine here almost got a sedative to the neck”, Price grumbled while eyeing Soap.

“Her pheromones are very enticing…But we can't just kidnap someone because you like the way she smells, especially someone we just met. We should call Laswell to do a background check just to be safe”, Ghost offered while running his gloveless fingers through Soap mohawk as he reaches for your wallet to search.

“It might take a while to get the results and Gaz had promised to take her home tomorrow. But that could prove dangerous to us if she informs anyone of our whereabouts.” The men all nod in agreement as they chalk up a plan to keep you for a while longer, just until they can confirm you aren't a threat. Definitely not for other reasons…

After Ghost finished going through your wallet and finding your driving licence he grabs your phone to plug into his laptop to get any useful information that you hadn't disclosed already. Soap was happy enough beside him going through your pictures on your camera. He just wanted to confirm you weren't stalking them and taking pictures when they weren't looking.

Gaz and Price come to an agreement in pretending like the truck broke down tomorrow morning forcing you to trek back into town on foot, with Gaz guiding you. The only difference would be that Gaz would lead you into the wrong direction towards the lake. They'll have to wait and see how you'd react to being baited.

Once everything was settled they put their plan into motion. Price gives Laswell a call as they crowd around the laptop having no shame in going through your personal information or the numerous pictures you have saved. They mirror your phone screen onto the laptop and the first things that pop up are a plethora of messages from your parents telling you to come home right this instant. Calling you dramatic for ‘faking an emergency’ and that weren't going to call anyone to help or come get you. Telling you they'd kick you to the streets if you continued to act like this. They seemed really pissed off by something. But there were too many messages to go through. It was like reading a soap opera script. Your siblings on the other hand seemed really concerned asking for you to come home quickly, telling you that your parents were ransacking your room and throwing things onto the street in anger. It seemed a little too convenient of a story to Price.

“This could all just be a ploy”, Ghost suggested. A made-up story to get their pity so you could get closer to them. Ghost and Price didn't want to give you the benefit of the doubt, even though Gaz and Soap were more than willing to believe your story. Probably too enticed by your scent already. They've been in these situations far too many times for it to be considered a coincidence. Especially when a pretty thing wanders somewhere she definitely shouldn't be, spreading very enticing pheromones to a pack of wolves.

They continue their search for something incriminating. Anything to give away you were working for someone. But everything they found felt very mundane down to the nitty gritty details of your life. It almost seemed too normal as if your life was scripted. You must be hiding something even if it wasn't related to them. Everyone had at least one skeleton in their closet. But you didn't or maybe you were just better at hiding it. The pictures on your phone are mostly tame, the main subject being nature and quite a few candid shots of what they assumed were your friends. And obviously you had plenty of pictures of food, but not many of yourself to their disappointment. Gaz seemed particularly disappointed, the younger two men seemed to be taken by you. Even though they've only spent an hour at most talking to you. Your Instagram wasn't much different but your online portfolio had quite a few creative pictures with models. They were often made to look antique or aged and followed a very classic aesthetic. Soap thought it was a shame they couldn't get to see your pretty face.

You could have just stolen these pictures from someone else but they couldn't confirm that either. At this point they thought they saw enough to get to know you. Gaz seemed to want to come to your defense but held his tongue, he knew how dangerous situations like these could get. But to him you seemed like any typical college graduate trying to make a name for herself. Young, ambitious and full of creativity. But you were also naïve and a bit ditsy if what you told them was true. And he so desperately wanted it to be true, the idea of keeping you around was growing on him. One would think if you enter a forest alone the least you could do was pay attention to your surroundings regardless if you were distracted taking pictures or not. It seemed you lacked common sense. Especially when thinking asking four strange men for help was a good idea. Though in your defense it's not like you had many options at that point. It was either this or freeze to death.

It's ok if you were a bit slow or naive Gaz thought, he'll protect you and teach you everything you'd need to know. Once you were cleared of suspicion, that is, Soap and him could definitely work to convince the other two men to agree to keep you. It didn't seem like your parents treated you well, he's sure you'd be happier with them anyways so I wasn't like they were doing something that wrong. In fact they were probably doing you a favour by taking you away from your abusive parents.

Soap was still off to the side somewhere hyper focused on looking at your pictures for some reason. When your camera finally died, Soap let out a flurry of curses.

“Find something useful?”, Price inquiried. Worried you were indeed taking pictures of them to sell or send to whoever you were working for. Soap just mumbles something in frustration before saying no.

Intrigued, Ghost takes the camera from Soap with some trouble. He slots the SD card into the laptop to see what he was moaning about. It's safe to say none of them except maybe for Soap, were expecting those kind of pictures to pop up. You were still dressed, just barley that is. The men took an audible gulp of air, their Adams apple bobbing in their throats. When Ghost clicked on the first exposed picture of you they all felt their mouth becoming entirely too wet and too dry at the same time. They were practically drooling at the sight of your naked flesh.

Ghost was kinda annoyed Soap was trying to keep this to himself. Greedy little bastard. He would have probably jerked off to the pictures after everyone had gone to bed. Only telling them about it when he got his fill.

It was a photograph of you sitting near some wild flowers. In the photo you were wearing a long white dress so the picture wasn't taken today but they wished it was. They wished you came to them looking like you did in that photo. Your dress was pushed up very close to exposing your panties, your legs were strategically parted but not enough to expose yourself. It left them wanting for more and had their fingers itching to touch your warm supple skin. It was ironic how sweet and innocent you came across when speaking to them yet you took pictures like this of yourself? It had Soap blood rushing to his cock and also his head, it angered him that there was a possibility you were taking these pictures for some girl or dude. A possessive feeling entered his heart, he was annoyed thinking someone apart from them could have possibly seen these pictures of you. The other men probably thinking something similar, even if they wouldn't admit it just yet.

Ghost glanced at Soap adjusting his slacks before going back to click onto the next picture. The silence in the room quickly faded when the next picture loaded up. Gaz and Soap let out audible groans at the image. Their cocks were definitely straining in their trousers.

The picture showed you laying down this time still on the grass, your wet hair arranged prettily. But it looked like it was raining. Your face was wet, your lipstick smudged and the white top completely soaked through exposing your erect nipples. You had a demure expression on your face despite the very erotic pictures you were taking of yourself. The more images they clicked the more erotic they became. Though you were at no point completely naked or fully exposed. But by God you knew what you were doing with that camera. You knew your best angles, the natural lighting was perfect, your clothes were arranged just how you intended. They'd mistake you for a pinup model if they had found these pictures accidentally on some website.

The best picture so far pops up and by this point everyone including Price and Ghost are acutely fixated on your devine body, your soft curves and dips. They all probably felt their cocks hardening. Everything about you just seemed so perfect, like you were made for them. It was safe to say even if they found you were actually a spy they'd find a way to keep you next to them. A body so divine would do no good buried six feet under. They had no idea you were hiding such a figure under your baggy clothes they found you in.

The picture in question was of you laying propped up on your side. The top on your dress was pulled down to your waist exposing your chest, torso and stomach completely. The dress was soaked, becoming transparent and your white stockings were on display. You were looking at the camera innocently like you weren't just sitting prettily half naked in the middle of a forest by yourself. Gaz really hoped it was you taking these pictures not someone else. They really ought to teach what could happen to pretty half exposed girls who wander into the forest to take such naughty pictures. Ghost goes to click on the next picture but it just circles back to the most recent picture of a white bunny you took. Everyone was clearly disappointed but only Soap and Gaz voiced their dissatisfaction. Soap tries to take the laptop to return to his favourite picture of you but Ghost slams the screen shut.

“Oye! What was that for!?”, Soap practically seethes, Gaz not far behind voicing his anger.

“She's not some wank material for you Johnny.. Go to bed, we have a long day tomorrow, both of you…”

“I agree, go to bed. You both need to cool down and think with a level head. This girl can be a danger to all of us…”, Price's stern voice rings out, squashing out any room for complaint. The two men grumble and head off to Soap room. “Don't sneak into her room either!”. They let out some pathetic ‘yes sirs’ before closing the door to their room. Price knew for a fact they were going to get each off to the thoughts of your body. He'd hope they wouldn't get too attached to you just yet… there was a lot at stake. He didn't want any of his boys getting hurt because they were thinking with their dicks..

Price tells Simon to put everything back so you don't suspect them tampering with your stuff. They needed to keep up the air that they were oblivious about you. Price rubs his eyes. The fatigue clearly evident in his face. This was supposed to be a relaxing trip…He needed some sleep. The anxiety was eating away at him. He'd be expecting a call from Kate the next morning for an update. It's best to get as much rest as possible..

Rest would have been good for Simon too yet he found himself making backup of all your pictures once everyone left. Price had told him to return everything back but he couldn't bring himself to allow anyone else to see these pictures of you. As much as he was trying to hide it. He found himself becoming infatuated. By your scent, by your demeanor, by your beautiful breasts. His mouth was just itching to latch on your supple skin. Which was extremely concerning, he shouldn't feel like this. Yet he found his hand discreetly finding his way into his boxers as he made copies of the pictures while deleting them off the SD card. It wasn't like you'd notice, your camera had died. Though he did feel cruel for denying his boys pleasure while he was indulging in it himself. He'll make it up to them later once everything is settled and they decide what they should do with you.

-27/11/2023 present time

You found yourself on a familiar sofa again, only this time it was Gaz who was taking care of your wounds. The cuts sting as you try to escape the grasp Soap has on you as he holds you down on his lap.

“Please I'm not a spy…*sob*.. I just want to go home..”

“Settle down hen…nae need tae work yerself up.. we just want tae take care of ye”, you could still hear the residual anger in his voice. He probably got an earful by everyone for allowing you to escape on his watch. But you didn't care, you just wanted to go home. Anywhere was better than being stuck with four strange men. Four very dangerous men who shouldn't technically exist. Your mind was still trying to process what you had witnessed. Maybe it was all a hallucination. There no way men can turn to wolves right? Right? You'd promise never to mention it to a living soul if it meant they would let you go but you doubted they'd take the risk. You had no way to contact the outside world, had no way of escaping four military men with connections. Four protected military men who could technically get away with anything if they can get away with war crimes.

“Ye need tae stop squirming so much hen… or we'll have another problem on our hands”, Soap whispers in your ear. You stop your movements immediately at his words. You try to get off his lap but he just holds you down harder. His stiff cock brushing against you too bagging sweatpants and you felt everything since they had taken your underwear to ‘clean’ while they were nursing you back to health. You hated to admit it but his body heat was pleasant compared to the cold you were just in. But that didn't mean you wanted his hard cock pressed up against your vulnerable unclothed pussy.

Gaz and Soap continue to try to soothe you, but it's of little help because you begin panicking the second you see Price and Ghost getting the truck loaded with their belongings. They were leaving the area and taking you with them.

You feel Gaz brush your hair out of your face as he shushes you with gentle words. You were a fool to think he was ever going to take you home. You partially blamed him for your fall into the lake. Had he not suggested you climb the nearby boulders to get better reception on his phone; you wouldn't have slipped in leaving you mentally delirious for the last couple days due to your aggravated fever. You don't remember much from the last few days apart from a lot of vomiting and the men taking care of all your needs whether you wanted them to or not. Not to mention them dressing and undressing you like a doll whenever they felt like it. Or maybe it was because you kept vomiting but you wanted to blame it on them..

The fight in you dies down as you just resort to crying your feelings out. The boys continue to soothe you but they were probably just making things worse. You were extremely overwhelmed by everything you were witnessing; it was all becoming too much. You just wanted to turn your brain off for a second. You watch Price and Ghost stop in front of you. They had hard expressions on their faces. Dread filled you as you realised what they were going to do..

“Do you want your punishment now or when we arrive back home?”, Price inquiries. But you know he doesn't mean your home he meant their home. You cry even louder not knowing what to do to convince them to let you go. Pleases and sorrys leave your mouth as you beg them for mercy, beg them to see what they were doing was wrong. Trying your best to convince them you weren't a spy. But they wouldn't listen. It's like they had already made up their minds to keep you regardless of whether you were a spy or not.

Price maneuvers you off Soap lap and over his knee as everyone watches with held breaths. You struggle, you really do. With all the energy you have left you fight the punishment you're about to receive. You feel Price's hand rub over your ass giving it an experimental squeeze despite your crying and squirming. It only seemed like a mild inconvenience to him. You feel his hand brush up to the waistband of your sweat pants which causes you to kick your legs more. It's only then you hear Ghost speak.

“Price maybe we should let her decide her punishment” Price gives Ghost an odd look but decides to hear him out. You quiet down and listen too, hoping for an out from this humiliating situation.

“Let's give her two options to choose from, since it's her first time and hopefully her last time trying to escape”, you look at him like he was your saving grace. That would later be a great mistake on your part since you hadn't heard his options yet.

“What would you suggest?”, Price inquires as he continues to rub your thighs and ass as you held your breath hoping to get out of this punishment. Gaz and Soap look on eagerly knowing either suggestion would have you partially exposed to them. Not like they haven't been oogling your body already, especially while helping you clean up over the last few days. You don't know that though you were too delirious with fever.

“She can decide if she wants slaps to her bare cunt or bare breasts”, your face drops at his suggestion. You were really hoping for something else, like writing lines or doing extra chores like the way your parents preferred punishing you. You start crying again at your predicament. Why was life like this? Why did it have to be you? You were a good person, well at least you tried to be.. Was this your punishment for defying your parents' will? Was God punishing you for being an unfilial daughter? Was it because you wanted to feel sexy in those pictures? Had that evoked the wrath of God?

“Make a decision luv or I'll make it for you…”, You hiccup through sobs trying to ask for forgiveness instead. You didn't want to be exposed to strangers. This wasn't how you expected your first time to be. You had your doubts they'd stop at a simple spanking. When Price goes to pull your pants down you speak up, finally realising you weren't going to be shown mercy.

“M-my…my.. breasts”, you cry. It was the lesser evil. May God forgive you for exposing yourself to these strangers. You're gently made to sit upright as Price forces you to lift Soaps shirt, baring your supple breasts to them. Your squeeze your eyes shut as you clench your hands into fists waiting for the pain to begin. But it doesn't come. You wait and wait but nothing happens. You don't hear them speak or move, which just caused more anxiety. You eventually can't take the suspense and open your eyes to find them all staring, eyes full of lust and desire, hands twitching at their sides. It was as if they were transfixed, unable to break the hold your naked body had on them. It unnerved you, you didn't know what they were waiting for…

“Price…”, you whimper out his name so you can get this punishment done and over with. An inhuman groan leaves his lips at you calling his name so sweetly. Immediately his eyes shoot to yours before they dip down again. He clears his throat as his expression changes back to his previous one of anger, but not really. You close your eyes again waiting for him to do something, your body trembling from the fear and anticipation.

“Five slaps to each breast ok darling?”, You nod your head, your hands clutching onto the shirt tighter. You brace yourself while holding your breath again, waiting for the pain to come. He lays his rough calloused hands over your hard nipples causing your breath to hitch at his gentle touch. You try to squirm away but the first tentative slap lands on your left breast, forcing you to gasp despite it not hurting. The next one that lands is much harder, delivered in quick succession like the rest. Your skin felt hot and raw after each thunderous slap. Tears slip past your waterline as the last blow is delivered to your left breast. The skin he was brushing against felt incredibly sensitive. He pinched your nipples again and they felt harder than before, if that was possible.

You felt the rumble of Price's inhuman growl as his large hands cup your sore breast. He keeps it there, feeling the weight of your bosom in his hand as he experimentally rolls your nipples between his fingers. The dangerous throat sounds you were hearing just froze you in place that you didn't even think to move away even though you wanted to. It wasn't just Price, you could practically feel the other men burning holes into your skin despite having your eyes closed.

Eventually you feel him move to your right. He was being much crueler with his slaps this time around. Every time his hand clapped against your flesh you flinched from the stinging pain. Gasps and whimpers left your mouth more readily this time around as well. The pain was spreading all over your sensitive flesh yet you could do little to prevent it. It felt inflamed and hot and all you wanted to do was hide in a corner somewhere far away. Never in your life have you felt this kind humiliation. The worst part was your nether region felt hot and sticky making sitting extremely uncomfortable. You squirm as you rub your thighs together. Trying your best to alleviate the ache. Hopefully no one noticed.

By the end of punishment you were crying again. The tears didn't seem to want to end this time around. Eventually you felt your top being pushed down to cover your tender sore breasts as Price brought you in for a hug despite you trying to escape.

“You took your punishment so well bunny, such a good girl. I'm so proud of you. Our perfect girl.”, Price coos at you while you still try to escape his hold. But he just tightens his arms around you, plastering your head to his chest as you cry it out. Soap and Gaz chime in too as they caress your head and back showering you with praise for taking the punishment so well.

“Being such a good girl for us, we're so proud of you bunny. You deserve a reward. Let me go get you some water. We'll get you some ointment when we get home luv just sit there and rest for now.”, Gaz leaves the room to get some water at you continue crying.

“Let me give ye a reward hen.. Ah’ll make the pain go o’way. You've been rubbing yer thighs since the punishment started”, You feel Soaps hands move to your thighs. Trying to pry them open for your ‘reward’. But you adamantly refuse while fighting to keep your legs closed, not that it was doing much to deter him.

“No..no…please…no more”, you plead through sobs. Before you can cry louder you feel him being pulled back roughly. You open your eyes to find Ghost holding Soap by the hair as he whines kneeling on the ground.

“That's enough Johnny..Not today”, You watch him help Soap up as he grumbles something about it being unfair that only Price got to touch you. But he eventually relents and goes to follow him outside.

Gaz returns with a glass of water from the kitchen and brings it to your lips. You hadn't realised all that running and crying had left you extremely parched. You gulp down the water not thinking much of it when he gently tips the glass for you. Price has to slow you down your movements telling you you'll choke yourself like that. He takes the glass from Gaz to help you slowly finish it. It's only when you're done that the same chalky taste of medicine you've been tasting for the last couple days makes itself known. They've drugged you again.

You cry and plead for mercy in your last couple minutes of consciousness but all they do is coo at you until you pass out. The last thing you see in your hazy vision is Gaz kissing your forehead while Price gathers you in his lap to carry you to the truck.

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

For a Quarter of a Second

SUMMARY: Night Raven College lost in the Relay race by just a quarter of a second. They ended up in 2nd place. Who came in 1st? Royal Sword Academy. They were so frustrated. And they need you.

CHARACTERS: Track and Field Club 🏃(Deuce Spade / Jack Howl)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kiss; Comfort

WORD COUNT: An average of 840 words per character.

COMMENTS: I enjoyed writing "But… We Lost…" for the Basketball Club, and I think readers also found it interesting that I went the route of them losing against RSA. So I think I'm going to do this for the clubs, or at least for the sports clubs. I like scenarios where the reader comforts them.

I hope you enjoy it too. 😉

CONTEXT OF THE TECHNICAL PARTS: According to my research (and if any information is wrong, blame my AI assistant: Gemini) Track and Field usually takes place over 2 days. On the first day there are morning and afternoon events and on the second day there are morning, afternoon and evening events.

The events that end the competition on the evening of the second day are usually the Relay and the Marathon, with the Marathon being the last of them all. But in this case and to fit in more with Deuce and Jack's cards, I decided that the last event would be the Relay.

CONTEXT OF THE STORY: It was an inter-school Track and Field Tournament. But the only school that mattered, the only one that could really compete with Night Raven College for 1st place was Royal Sword Academy.

The competition was close, at least in the eyes of the NRC athletes. What unnerved them most was how carefree the RSA students were and the vibe of team spirit and "the important thing is to have fun" bullshit.

At the end of the first day RSA was narrowly ahead. On the second day, things evened out on NRC's side. When the sun starts to set and the evening arrives, it's time for the last event, the relay race. The two schools competed for 1st place. He was last in the race, the one with the "responsibility" of coming in first. But when he was just arriving, the RSA athlete managed to pass him by a quarter of a second and finish first. Causing NRC to take 2nd place and lose to RSA... again.

No matter how much effort he makes, Deuce can't hide how bad and angry he is. He stays to receive the silver medal and as long as he is forced to stay there. But as soon as he can get out of public view, you know you should go check on him.

Not only do you see him walking away from the crowd, but the people who see his face moving away from him as if they are afraid. You try to follow him, but eventually lose him when he goes into an area with trees and no people. You see something shining in the sun on the ground. It's his silver medal. You pick it up.

You receive a message. It's from Deuce's mother. Says: “Hi (Y/N), can you tell Deuce to call me back as soon as he can? I want to congratulate him!” And then another message: “And... could you check on him for me?” You replied to her, to reassure her that you are going to do just that.

And then you hear a scream of frustration, drowned out by the voices of the crowd watching the competition, and something hitting a tree. You follow the sound.

When you get to him, you see him with his fist pressed against the trunk of a tree as if he had just hit it, his coat on the ground and you hear angry murmurs as if he was cursing himself.

You take a step towards him, making a noise, which makes him turn his head towards you. In the second before he realized it was you, you could see the look on his face that made everyone move away from him as he passed by. That angry look from his delinquent days. But then, in the blink of an eye, his expression changes, to the Deuce you know.

“(Y/N)! I didn't know it was you. I’m sorry. Really.” There is a short pause. He smiles sadly at you. “I should have known you would come check on me... Thank you...”

You tell him the race was amazing. That he was great!

“Not great enough, apparently...” His expression was a mix of anger at having lost and sad at you seeing him like this.

“Great enough for second place out of all schools.” You say. “Great enough to make you mother proud.” he looks at you with wide eyes. “I know this because she texted me. She wants you to call her as soon as you can so she can congratulate you. It doesn't matter if it's gold or silver, it could even be bronze, who wouldn't be proud to see their son on the podium?” His eyes start to water. “She is proud of you, Deuce.” You reach out your hand to him, holding the silver medal. “I am proud of you.”

And finally the tears run down his cheeks. He extends his arms, not to take the medal, but to hug you. A warm and silent hug, that lasts for a while, since you are letting him “use” you to calm himself down.

When he slowly breaks the hug and goes to take the medal in your hand, you see the scratches on his knuckles. “AH! Deuce!”

“Sorry, I mean, don't worry, this is nothing.” he says stumbling over his words “Sorry for worrying you I mean. But you don't need to. My fingers will be fine tomorrow. They've been through worse.” He smiles, trying to reassure you.

He looks at the second place medal and then back at you. “Thank you. And... you’re right. Being on the podium is already a lot. And second place is just one place behind first. I'm going to keep training until I can show you, my mom and the school the gold medal!”

He smiles at you and you smile back. Then you remind him that, speaking of his mother, he should call her. And you should go back before your friends start worrying about you two.

“Oh yes, I'll do that right now. But, um...” he suddenly blushes “before you go...” He gets closer to you, as if he was gaining courage to do something, he leans in and, as if it was a last minute change of plans, he kisses your cheek. “Thank you. Again. For... everything.”

“It wasn't the cheek you wanted to kiss, was it?” Your question only made him blush even more. Poor boy, he's still new to these stuff. But seeing your inviting smile gives him the courage he needs.

“You’re right. Again. I shouldn't shy away, should I?” He gets even closer to you, holds your hands and kisses your lips gently.

As soon as he saw he had lost, he didn't SAY or DO anything, but he couldn't stop himself from showing an expression of wolfish aggressiveness. His ears were back, his teeth were exposed and whoever was close to him could hear his growl.

But he knew he needed to save that for later. He had already made NRC lose, he couldn't show a lack of fair play and make the school's image even worse.

He stays to receive the silver medal and even congratulates his opponent from RSA, but if you pay attention, his tail lay still against his legs. Like he was defensive or holding something back.

Just before he completely left the public view, you saw his body expression change, becoming more aggressive, and you know you should go check on him.

Because of his appearance and serious expression, people always behaved as if they were a little afraid. So it wasn't exactly unusual when you saw him moving away from the crowd, to also see some people kind of avoiding him.

You try to follow him, but eventually lose him. You wonder where he could have gone. To a secluded place? A place where others wouldn't see him? You think the best place would be a place with trees and then you remember Jack told you once: “My favorite place to run is the woods behind campus. There's no paved walkway back there, so it's perfect for building your core muscles.”

The woods behind campus were in the direction where Jack seemed to be heading when you lost sight of him. So you decided to go there to check it out. It wasn't like Jack was an unpredictable person, anyway. And you were correct.

You saw him between the trees with his back to you. He was stretching. You also noticed something shining on the ground, you look and see his silver medal on the floor, above his jacket. You don't make a sound, you barely even move and yet, his ears turn back before he turns around and sees you.

“[Y/N]? What are you doing here?”

“What do you think?” You say “I came to see how you were.”

“I’m fine. Do not worry about me.” He says with almost no emotion in his voice. You cross your arms and look at him as if asking him if he really thought you would believe that. He sighs. “Listen, I'm frustrated about losing, for sure, but other than that I'm fine. I came here because I wanted to take the opportunity while my muscle memory is fresh to try to better understand how I lost. It won't take long, I promise.”

You decide to let him do his thing, but tell him you'll stay there with him until he's ready to come back and you'll do it together.

“You're so stubborn.” He says wagging his tail. He smiled. “Okay, keep my things then. And stay behind those trees... Please.” He blushes slightly. And you remember the first time he said something like this to you: ‘If you want to watch me practice, stay behind those trees. I'm not worried about you or anything; it's just distracting having you close by.’

You pick up the medal and his jacket, probably even cleaning it from having been on the ground, and wait. You see him running from side to side with a focused expression. When he finally decides to finish the exercise he returns to you.

“Thank you.” He tells you, taking his jacket back. He was going to put it over his shoulders, but a breeze passed over the two of you, making you shiver a little. He automatically draped his jacket over your shoulders instead. “We should go back before the others start looking for us.” He puts his hand on your back to indicate that you should go first.

“Wait.” You say, turning to him with the silver medal in your hands. You stretch your arms to slip the ribbon over his head and place it back on his chest. “I hadn't congratulated you yet.” And you tell him how incredible you thought he was in the race.

He blushes and wags his tail like crazy. “C'mon, there's no need for that...” he rubs the back of his neck. “T-thank you... but even though I'm good” He holds the medal and makes it shine in the faint rays of the sunset as he looks at it. “I'm still not good enough. I made us lose to Royal Sword Academy of all schools.” His hand starts to press harder on the medal.

You hold his hand with both of your hands, and tell him that yes, he may have lost to RSA, but it was also the only school he lost to. If he could have looked back, he would have seen that the other schools barely even had a chance. Second place still means one of the best, it's still a podium place. And you know he can see pride in that.

He smiles, that proud smile that suits him so well and that stands out from his usual neutral expression. He cups your face and puts his forehead against yours. He could say thank you again, he could say he loves you, but like the other Savanaclaw students, he's a person of actions. So, instead of using his lips to talk, he uses them to kiss yours.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

☆ Silver's Sinful Sunday ☆

Week Two: Lucifer

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Smut Essentially, Fem Reader, heavily implied sub Lucifer, public — kinda(?), barely functional author

Word Count: 491

“We have to be quiet, Luci.” You whispered in his ear, breathlessly as he stretched you open with every inch. 

His lips were pressed tightly together, trying not to make any loud noise. It was hard. You felt so good around him. . . But he had to be quiet, otherwise risk everyone outside the limousine hearing just how desperate and needy the King of Hell sounded balls deep in your heavenly pussy. 

Slowly, you began moving. 

Drawing the low, whiny moans from Lucifer became your favorite thing. 

He threw his head back against the leather seat and attempted to shamelessly thrust up into you, but it was no use. 

Between you clenching around him and the sound of your soft, breathy moans meeting his ears, he was quickly reaching his climax. 

“Please —” he whimpered finally.

You kissed his lips sweetly, watching the sinners walk by, oblivious to what was happening. “Just a few more minutes, Luci, you can do it, baby. Don't cum yet.” 

He shivered as your words became engraved in his mind. Hold on. Hold on.  

It was growing harder by the second. 

His eyes rolled back into his head, unable to form any coherent thought, and soon he buried his face in your chest — it didn't help his case a bit. 

You rolled your hips flawlessly, causing him to bite his bottom lip as he felt that all too familiar feeling. 

He was so close. 

But so were you.

“Please — I'm gonna; I have —” 

His cock twitching inside you was the sign you needed, telling him it was okay to cum. . . He managed to get in a couple thrusts of his own before he groaned, painting your insides with the translucent bodily fluid. 

“You're doing so good for me, Luci. . .” You moaned, pressing kisses to his jawline as you felt your own coil build up slowly. 

The closer you got to reaching the tipping point, the more sloppy your movements got until you finally came undone on him with a high pitched moan, muffled by his shoulder. 

The two of you stayed together for a few minutes, coming down from the high. It had been a spontaneous decision.

“So good.” You whispered. 

You soon removed yourself from his lap and began cleaning up the mess you both made, knowing the others would be out of the movies soon. 

Thanks to a little magic, the smell of your extracurricular activities left the limousine and the two of you were mostly back to normal by the time Charlie, Angel, and Vaggie returned. 

You hadn't been able to find your lacy red panties at the end, despite looking for them everywhere  . . Though you did notice the familiar shade of fabric sticking out of his pocket before he pushed it in the rest of the way. 

You'd let him have that as a trophy of sorts, just this one time. . . There's a reason why you have his contact name as ‘Hell's Greatest Dick’.

Y'all I can't explain it but this man is so breedable. Let me get you pregnant, King 💖

Have my babies. Mwah 💋

[charliemwrites]

Making this a separate post because the idea has evolved a bit:

(Was talking about this in the discord if it looks familiar)

I’m thinking less of a 1 to 1 Greek god au. I’m thinking it’s more of a theme to their dynamic and in parts of their story.

Johnny is a reincarnation of some ancient, nameless (or many-named) god, associated with dark forces. He’s not evil incarnate. But he is something of a representation of “darker” human nature. Anger, bloodlust, impatience, selfishness.

Persephone!reader, by comparison, is sort of a personification of gentler human nature. Patience, mercy, altruism, gentleness. She is less “awakened” so to speak because her mother has been a major limiting factor in her life. Like, helicopter parent to the extreme.

Persephone!reader goes to her aunt Laswell as a sort of compromise. See the world, the real world, in a controlled sort of way with her aunt watching carefully over her shoulder.

Problem is, no one is expecting the dreams to start as soon as she gets to base. Dreams of a man that scares her as much as tempts her, and encouraging the worst and most selfish of her impulses. She doesn’t tell anyone - why would she? They’re just dreams.

Captain MacTavish scares intimidates her, even though she insists that he doesn’t, looking him in the eye with her chin tilted up defiantly. When he’s on base he finds all sorts of ways to cross her path, sometimes teasing her into an indignant fluster, other times telling her off for “distracting recruits”. Always, always has an eye on her, even if it’s not his own.

Once things come to a head (I haven’t figured out how yet) Persephone!reader insists it isn’t fair. And just because they’ve been something in the past doesn’t mean they have to now.

Johnny, of course, is utterly amused. She’s barely got any idea what’s going on, but sure, she’s going to deny forces beyond life and death.

They strike a deal. When he’s away (for months at a time… a season’s length, even) she can run and hide and do whatever she wants to “escape” him. If he cant find her within a week of coming back, then he’ll leave her be and she’s “free”.

(She scoffs that he’s going to cheat, using her aunt and all of her connections but he just scoffs. As if Laswell would help him over her own niece. And as if he needs the help.)

He always finds her within a day of coming back from a mission. No matter where she is or what her name is. No matter how well she covers her tracks (even with Laswell’s help). He comes to her with gifts.

At first it would be sweet if not for the smirk on his face and the realization that she’s “lost” again. He brings flowers of all kinds, and green plants in little pots. Then it’s a new sweater, a nice coat, a piece of jewelry.

And then… and then they get worse. A bullet is the first sign. It’s just a whole bullet, her name engraved in its side. Then it’s a casing, the bullet clearly having been shot. He tells her it went right between someone’s eyes. The “gifts” become patches from enemy jackets, pretty stones splattered with dried blood, a human tooth.

It’s awful. She hates it. She can’t ever make herself say it (or believe it). And when he’s gone, she physically can’t make herself throw them away. Shes tried and tried, and the last time she put a real effort into it, she ended up on the floor having a panic attack, sobbing and calling Johnny.

(He purrs at her through the phone, gunfire background noise while he soothes her back inside. His voice keeps her company while she makes a tea, readies a bath. Tuts at her to call him again when she’s tucking into bed. She refuses to acknowledge that she does.)

Similarly, she finds herself getting or making things for him. For his inevitable return. Cigars and his favorite whiskey. Making patches for his uniform. A leather bracelet with her initials on a silver charm. A ring with an inlay the color of her eyes. Doesn’t even realize what she’s doing until she’s home or the thing is done. She’ll hide them away for months with no plans of giving them to Johnny. He inevitable finds them within his first week home anyway.

(There’s the one time she bakes for him, humming as she measures and mixes ingredients. Lets him steal tastes from the bowl and lick flour off her cheek. Only realizes what she’s done in a domestic haze when he’s eaten the sweet treat and thanked her for it.)

And when he’s home…

The deal is that when he’s home, he gets to treat her like his. Climbs into her bed, grumbling about pillows being a poor substitute for him. Steps into her shower midway through, ducking his head so she can shampoo and condition his hair with her gentle hands. Dresses her in his clothes, in his dog tags. Always has a hand on her, even in her (their) home.

And he delights in yanking her into his lap - especially in public. When his team comes to visit (and they always do) he lounges with her on his thigh. He’s also kind of a dick. Like he’s courteous to servers (mainly female ones because chances are they won’t flirt with his girl) but pretty much any stranger talking to him or his Persephone is met with smarmy asshole behavior.

It’s to the point that she just fusses at him to let her talk to people. And he’s happy to do so, amused by the way she charms people. He only intervenes when someone is rude or a little too friendly with her. She’s had to break up bar fights before because god knows his men won’t try to stop their captain.

She is literally the only being in all of history that can tell him no and stop and he’ll listen regardless of the situation. She has to actively remind herself that it’s not healthy and she should not be a little flattered about it. And she’s not. (She is.)

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Can I have Yandere Malleus, Jamil, Floyd and Leona with a fem reader whose kid brother transported along with them to twisted wonderland? MC’s little brother is a bratty bully that she’s protective of because she had to act like a mother to him since they don’t have any parents. Her little brother can be very protective of his big sister and constantly antagonises the yanderes any chance he gets and when the time comes for them to kidnap MC, her little brother would do anything to stop them.

Kid Brother | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Similar to Spirit your brother is the deterrent for your obsessive suitors. But rather than protecting you through strength and perception, your baby brother’s aim is in his pull over his beloved older sibling. As the eldest sibling its natural you be as attentive as possible; its a given those interested will be less than stellar about it:

Malleus Draconia 

“Aw sorry Malleus, his stomach is hurting. No doubt he’s probably just got to go to the bathroom but just in case.”

“Perhaps Lilia can care for him? He has plenty of experience with children.”

“Noooo I want (YYYYYY/nnnn)!”

He doesn’t suspect much 

Not until a blatant attempt to propose to you is flubbed by your brother’s interjection

Than he’s alerted 

And he’s mad

He’ll need Lilia and Silver to bring him down from striking a child with magical lightning

In the end he’ll cope with it like its your child his child

“I see. The young one needs correcting and in honor of my love for (Y/n), I’ll be sure to…reprimand him properly.”

Jamil Viper  

“(Y/n)!!! He’s scary! Let’s go home!”

“...Fat chance. ~Tell the truth.~”

“I just want (Y/n) to take me away from you because you threatened to cook me.”

“...”

“...It…was a badly timed joke.”

Hypnotising children is usually easy

But your brother is such a snot nose it might backfire

But Jamil is slick and he doesn’t have morals 

So if given the chance to punt the little thorn in his side 

He will take it

‘Jokes’ aside he’s going to most likely shove him off towards the one person that can keep up with him 

“How about you and Kalim go on a magic carpet ride? Yeah that’ll keep you busy, right?”

Floyd Leech 

“Stay away from (Y/n) or ’ll beat you up!”

“Oh yeah?”

“...Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

Floyd is usually good with kids

Usually he’s able to get on their wavelength and have a good time 

But when he’s not doing that he’s used to making adults wet their pants

And he’s most likely going to do that

He can worry about being friendly with your kid after he’s shown them who’s really protecting you

“Oi oi why don’t we…work together. Shrimpy’ll like that, right?”

Leona Kingscholar

“Grrr. Back off kit we’re talking.”

“LAlalala (Y/n)! (Y/n)! (Y/n)! (Y/n)! I’m hungry.”

“I’ve got a knuckle sandwich for ya then.”

“Leona!” 

He should probably remind you what male lions do when they establish their rule over a pride

He doesn’t bother arguing with the rat because he’s too stupid to get it

But you’re not 

And unless you don’t want to be a single sibling 

You’ll tell him to shape up

“Ah (Y/n) does the rat really want to bother us now?”

[starzwithapen]

⭑˚₊‧° ♢ 𓆩♡𓆪 ♢ °‧₊˚⭑

JOHN DORY / READER ☆ DUET?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

☆summary: Brozone happens to play on the radio, and JD's appalled to find out you're not a fan

☆content: reader is not a pop-troll, reader is gender neutral, lowkey crackfic lmao, established relationship

☆a/n: Silver wrote this one!! And okay we KNOW realistically JD would tell his partner about being in brozone but for the sake of the comedic factor in the fic he's hiding it shshsshshhsbshshsh

⭑˚₊‧° ♢ 𓆩♡𓆪 ♢ °‧₊˚⭑

You'd been sitting in the driver's seat, driving Rhonda around [a rare occurrence, but JD indulged you just this once] while John Dory stirred his sugar into his mug, handing you yours with a kiss to your cheek. You nod at him gratefully, looking down at the buttons spread across in front of you, one of them particularly sticking out to you.

“Woah, wait, I didn't know Rhonda had a radio.”

John Dory leans against the back of your seat, arms wrapped around you from behind, “ehh, I don't use it often in case it scares off all the animals.”

He pokes your arm playfully, eyes glancing out the window, “we're pretty far out, though, should be fine to listen to some tunes.”

You insert a random channel number, turning the volume upwards. This one seems to be a host speaking about the weather, so you switch to the next- sounds like a cheesy pop song of some kind, probably a boy band. You snort at the lyrics- you didn't know anyone could fit that many synonyms of “girl” into one song.

You switch onto the next channel without catching John Dory's wide, shit-eating grin, and the immediate way his face practically crumples apart, “wuh- hey, what's wrong with that last song? It was really good.”

“Okay, I know you're a pop-troll,” you start, trying to find a channel with your preferred music, “but you have to remember I'm not. That stuff hurts my ears.”

John Dory leans backwards, arms crossing around his chest, “Okay, yeah, you don't like pop music, but why that song specifically? I was really jamming out to it, y'know.” He makes that smug smile of his that normally has your cheeks heating, “guy's a lyrical genius if you ask me.”

You stare at him, unimpressed, because he's got to be joking if he thinks that song has deep lyrics.

“JD, he just rhymed baby with baby. Three times in a row. Within the same chorus.”

“Hey, it's hard to think of rhymes that don't throw off the choreo, okay?” He points an accusing finger in your direction before pausing, forcing a nonchalant pose and pursing his lips, “Or- uh, or so I've heard.”

“Yeah, yeah, that's what you pop-trolls always say. I think that guy just needs to pick up a dictionary every once in a while.”

You don't actually care about the song that much, but seeing John Dory get this riled up over it is funny enough for you to go further,

“I bet you I could write a better song by the end of the week than that guy has his whole career.”

John Dory's grin turns wolfish, and oh boy, you should've known better than to try and challenge him, even jokingly,

“Oh you bet, do you? We'll see about that.”

—-------------------

This whole thing was going. Uh. Badly.

Your conversation had escalated into another one of your bets, which you surprisingly lose more often than not, most likely because you bite off more than you can chew. John Dory's unfortunately very aware of this, and throws you bait whenever he can. This time was no different. Winner gets one request for the loser.

You are not a song-writer by any means. You're a troll, yes, trolls sing and dance! But you don't write songs! The most experience you have with rhyming is a shitty poem you made as a teenager that never saw the light of day.

You'd started with listening to more of Brozone's music, and okay, you have to admit, some of their songs were actually really good okay. You'd caught yourself humming them more than once throughout the day, and John Dory always gives you that smug look from your peripherals before leaning in to kiss you senseless. He knew you were coming around to them and it was humiliating, and he was also concerningly elated by it.

While listening you've come to realise the lead singer sounds oddly similar to John Dory, just with a higher pitch and none of that raspiness. Like, freakishly similar. It's had you thinking John Dory's calling for you when he's just sound asleep, and the fact you misheard Brozone's “baby” or “honey” as JD is frankly embarrassing.

You groan and slump against the couch, the pen tumbling out your hand and clattering onto the ground below. Okay, you had to admit, this was really difficult. You were suddenly gaining so much more respect for boy bands.

You'd wanted to use this ridiculous bet as an opportunity to show off, or…even bring you and JD closer together- you know how important music is to him, so getting to write him a love song under the guise of a bet? It's a perfect chance handed to you on a silver platter!

But you just can't seem to think of the words- it's already been a week and so far you've written, what? 4 verses? And they all sucked. You wanted it to mean something- you wanted it to sound poetic and elegant and meaningful all at once, unlike those silly songs on the radio, but it just wouldn't work out!

You muffle a frustrated shout into your hands, pulling them away from your face when you hear footsteps, looking up to see John Dory towering over you.

“You give up yet?” His smile is adorable infuriating to look at, so you cast your gaze aside, huffing and grabbing your pen off the floor.

“No, ‘course not.”

He hums, patient for you to admit defeat, trying to take a peek at your notebook from up above, though you're not too worried since he can't read upside down [or at all, you've come to suspect].

“Okay, fine, I give up. You win.”

John Dory lets out a ‘whoop!’ and throws a fist upwards in celebration, smile so wide you're afraid he'll split his face apart.

You sigh, “Okay, hit me with it, I'm doing the dishes for a full week? Scrubbing Rhonda's windows?”

“Sing a duet with me.”

“This is so unfair, you know I hate doing the dishes- wait- huh?”

John Dory looks at you with a hopeful gleam in his eyes, holding his palm out for you to take, “Sing a duet with me. C'mon, don't think I haven't seen you swaying to my- uh, ahem, Brozone's music the past few days.”

He recovers quickly from his slip-up, tugging you upwards once you take his hand. He carefully starts up his record player, and you're surprised to find you recognise the song immediately, since it'd become a favourite of yours this past week.

“You know this one?” JD grins in your direction, one hand on your waist and the other on your shoulder, his touch gentle yet firm, “think I've heard you hum it a few too many times during breakfast.”

The song starts off slow, as does your dancing, the both of you simply swaying together- you don't exactly…dance often, so your movements are clumsy while his are self-assured.

The lyrics are cheesy, all about young teenage love, but…they make you feel giddy, your steps becoming lighter, your heart fluttering about. And, well, the song may not have deep mind-blowing lyrics, but you think that's the point of it. It's just meant to be fun, have your blood pumping and your heart soaring.

“We're grown adults, this song is for highschoolers.” You say, though your smile is fonder this time. John Dory chuckles and spins you around in his arms, making your head spin in more ways than one, your feet tripping up over his, “C’mon, live a little! Who says we can't be young and free in our mid-thirties?”

You stumble in place, trying to blink the dizziness out your eyes.

“JD, I'm gonna knock you out.” You try your best to grumble, but it only comes out flustered with how hot your cheeks are.

He smirks, twirling you around, “You've already knocked me-” his foot slides under yours, and you fall down into his arms with a yelp as he catches you in a perfect dip- “off my feet.”

Just before you can spew another insult at him for catching you off-gaurd like this, he leans in to kiss you, lips melding against yours sweetly. You melt into it, his arms secured around you so you don't fall, the music fading into background noise in your mind. You know your voice will be hoarse from singing and your muscles sore from dancing by the end of the night, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

⭑˚₊‧° ♢ 𓆩♡𓆪 ♢ °‧₊˚⭑

Would be superr cool if you left feedback if you enjoyed it's super helpful and much appreciated ! this guy is so cringefail I NEED HIM. -silver

[dollfacefantasy]

FROM MY MOUTH TO YOURS ♡

pairing: light yagami x fem!reader x naoya zen'in

summary: light yagami is not gay. he has a girlfriend. naoya zen'in is just a special case.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral sex (m receiving), anal, fingering, threesome, mlm, misogyny, internalized homophobia, infidelity & cheating

a/n: people say bring back crossover fics... bring back silly fics... so i did... my masterpiece... picture of naoya by @ sso_s__ on twitter

Light felt as though he was looking into a funhouse mirror right now. The man that stood across from him in the alley resembled him in so many ways. The blonde hair swept into pointed bangs, the seemingly permanent scowl curled onto his lips. Even this guy's way of standing matched his own.

But there were also strong differences between them. The other man's hair ended with black tips. Shining silver studs pierced his earlobes, complimenting his pretty face. His golden eyes were even framed with inky liner.

Light could never imagine looking so stylish. He'd always relied on his natural looks to impress those around him. Never had he thought about enhancing his appearance with hair dye or jewelry or makeup. That stuff should be of no concern to a god. Light decides who lives and who dies in this world. Not if he wants his eyes to have winged tips or be double lined. Still, he felt a draw to it for some reason.

He'd been walking back to his apartment when Ryuk warned him something strange was lurking up ahead. Expecting a shinigami or at least another death note owner, he crept forward on guard. But all he found was this guy, who despite his striking appearance, seemed normal. The only thing of any significance was the way he was staring back with confusion.

"Can I help you?" Light asks, the words tasting hesitant on his tongue.

"Where am I?" the other man is quick to respond, clipped and expectant.

Light blinks at the question. "Are you lost?" he responds without answering the question.

"No," he replies so fast it seems automatic, "Well... sort of."

Strange. Light pulls out his phone and flips it open, thumb ready to dial a number. "Is there someone I could call for you?"

The other man's eyes catch on the device, examining it with a combination of curiosity and dismissal.

"What do you have that old thing for?" he scoffs. "Haven't seen one of those in a while."

A frown pulls at Light's lips. Sure, the phone wasn't the most modern model, but it wasn't that old. For someone needing help, this guy had an attitude about him.

"I know it's not like the new touch screen ones they have out now, but it works for me," he says flatly with a shrug, "Now did you have anyone who could pick you up or give you a ride home?"

Despite his attempt to move the conversation forward, the stranger still seems stuck on Light's choice of electronics. His brows have furrowed together, a gleam of bewilderment taking over the golden flecks in his irises.

"You know they have ones that can flip open with a touch screen. Why don't you get one of those? I doubt that thing can even play a video without burning a hole through your hand."

Light's eyes narrow at the other man. 

A flip phone with a touch screen? Why would this guy feel the need to tell such an inconsequential lie? Does he think I'm stupid? Was this a prank or a test of some sort? But for what? He's tested nothing but my patience so far.

He shakes his head after thinking to himself, still undecided on the motives of this pretty boy.

"I don't need it to play videos. I have a computer for that. Do you want me to call someone for you or not?" he huffs.

"It's 2018, phones are computers. Why restrict yourself?"

"Don't tell me you don't know when you are either," Light retorts.

"What?"

"It's not 2018. It's 2012."

This guy glances across the alley as if he's suspicious. Of what, Light has no clue. He wasn't the one loitering around a dark alleyway as the sun went down, getting into arguments with strangers about the year and flip phones.

He almost rolls his eyes but sighs instead. "Look, I don't have all night. I'd be happy to help you, but if you don't need anything, I really should get going."

In the first bit of uncertainty from this man, he pauses. "Could I go back with you to your apartment?"

Light's brow quirks up. "I don't think that's a good idea. I don't know you, and my girlfriend wouldn't be too happy about me bringing a stranger home."

A sneer even more severe than the one he'd given before takes over the man's features. "Please. Why would I be interested in thieving off someone carrying around a flip phone? My life is much more lavish than your own, I just don't want to wait around in an alley while I decide what to do."

Light feels his own arrogance boiling within, begging to bubble over and show itself. But before he can defend himself, this guy keeps talking.

"But, if you let your girlfriend decide who is and isn't allowed in your apartment, I doubt you'd be much help to me anyways," he says.

"She isn't the one who decides, but I don't want to deal with her getting upset because I brought some random guy home."

"You make it sound like she'd be jealous," the man smirks, a hint of teasing in his voice.

The words knock the wind out of Light. He audibly sputters. 

Why would she be jealous of a man? She knows I'm not gay. It would be pointless. Why would this guy even suggest that? Does he think I'm gay? There's no way. Is he gay? He's playing at something. He wants to rile me up so I'll let him come with me. But why? I'll go along with it just to see what he wants. If anything goes wrong, I have the piece of the death note on me. All I need for that is...

"What's your name?"

"Naoya Zen'in," he answers smoothly, "And yours?"

"Light." No way he was giving away his full name to this guy. He didn't know if he had a death note of his own on him. "I'll let you come with me, Naoya. But as soon as you get yourself together, you're gone."

"Works for me. I doubt it will take long, Light," Naoya agrees and crosses the alleyway to approach him, "Let's get going."

The two of them walk side by side in silence down the narrow pathway between buildings. Silence fills the space between them. Light continues to ruminate on the previous conversation while Naoya trots with an air of smug satisfaction about him.

"So why were you even in that alley in the first place? And why don't you know what you're going to do?" the younger man asks.

"I'm not from here. Well the city, I mean. My family lives outside it. I just have to figure out what to do about getting there," Naoya says, answering the second question first, "Last night, they had a party, and those things can get kind of wild. I don't really remember how I got out here."

A simplified explanation, Light can tell. "A party? So were you drinking or something?" he inquires further.

"Something like that... my family is different than most. You can't really understand if you're not one of us. This is probably like a test or something."

"Testing your ability to call a cab or get someone to give you a lift? Sounds pretty pointless," Light says. This guy was so casually arrogant. It rubbed some part of Light in a way he couldn't explain.

"My trip home will be farther than you might think," is all the older man says back.

Another pause comes over them. The sound of their shoes on the pavement takes the place of voices. Looking down, Light notices their paces are in sync. He lags for a moment to disrupt that.

"So you were coming home from work?" Naoya asks, picking up the slack in the conversation. From the way he speaks, it seems as if asking others about themselves is foreign to him.

"Something like that," he shrugs. A sigh leaves him. 

I should try to be social. To appear normal. If this is a test of some sort, I can't let him know he got in my head.

"I work on the Kira case. The investigation team aimed at discovering his identity," he tries again.

"Kira?" the other man asks. When Light turns and looks at him, it seems as though he had no clue what any of that meant.

"Yeah, Kira," he says. There was no way there were people who still didn't know about Kira. Not believing or agreeing was one thing. But not knowing was impossible. Not after the domination he'd achieved over the world since L's death.

"Am I supposed to know what that is?"

Light scowls and grumbles in irritation. It chips at both sides of his pride, even if he doesn't want to admit it. "Very funny."

"I told you my family lives far out of the city," Naoya defends.

"You'd have to be from another world to not know who Kira is," Light shakes his head, "Just follow along. We're almost there."

Naoya shrugs and continues on behind Light as they reach the final bit of the journey to his apartment. Thunder cracks in the cloudy sky above, indicating some rain would pour down in the coming hours. The wind was picking up too. Light pulls his jacket tighter around his frame and bounces up the stairs to his floor.

He pulls the key out of his pocket when he gets there and jams it in the lock. The door creaks open, and the both of them head inside. All the lights in the apartment are still off, meaning no one else has come home yet. Before doing anything else, Light slips his coat off and hangs it up along with his bag on the sleek rack fastened to the wall. He then drops his keys and wallet on the nearby wooden side table.

Walking further into the apartment, he clicks a light on. Once Naoya can see, he scans the place. It's much neater than he would've expected from a young couple. No belongings strewn over couches or chairs, no mail piling on the counter, or furniture that's damaged but yet to be replaced.

Light heads into the living room, so Naoya trails a few paces behind. It's modest but comfortable in here. A basic sofa and a plush set of chairs. A tv on the wall that was nice for the time. The kitchen in an alcove off to the side, and then a hallway towards the back which he assumed led to the bedroom and bathroom. The two of you even had a sliding door to a balcony on the wall opposite him. He could see the angry storm clouds brewing in the distance.

The first piece of evidence that this place is lived-in sits on the bookshelf next to the tv. Naoya's eyes linger on the object the moment he notices it. A framed photograph. Bordered by silver, Light and you. Your hand cupped beneath his jaw, fingers squishing his cheeks as you plant a kiss to his face.

"Is that your girlfriend?" he asks. He tries to sound neutral, but his natural disdain seeps through.

As if snapped out of his thoughts, Light's head whips in his direction. His eyes search for what Naoya's referring to, but once he sees, he nods. A simple gesture, no real pride in it.

"Yeah, that's her."

"She's pretty, I guess."

"Yeah."

"Have you been with her long?" Naoya asks and turns to face Light completely.

The other man sits down in one of the chairs, silently beckoning Naoya to do the same.

"Yeah, about... four years now."

"Is she the only one you've ever been with?" he asks as he sits down on the couch instead.

"Yeah. The only lasting one, anyways."

"The only one you've ever fucked?"

Light's cheeks fill with color at the question. First implying he was gay, and now this? What was this guy's problem? He sits up straighter in his chair, clearing his throat and smoothing out some wrinkles in his pants.

"That's really none of your business. You shouldn't be so blunt as a guest in someone else's home. Maybe your family never taught you that."

A grin breaks out across the other man's pretty face. "It's a reasonable assumption. You two live together. You're adults."

"Then why do you even have to ask?" Light mutters. 

He's far too good at bothering me. Maybe I should try playing by his rules. Be blunt. Take the offensive. Find out if he's up to something.

"I'm just trying to figure you out," Naoya interrupts his inner monologue, "You don't have to get all defensive about it. Even if you're a virgin, I won't judge."

"I'm not a virgin," Light says quickly, putting that to rest before it can even become a debate.

In truth, his sex life with you was a sore spot. He wasn't a virgin - that was true - but that's not to say you two have sex often. A month had passed since the last time he'd been inside you. It was never bad... he just had more important things to do. He still cared about you, in a way. He always made sure to keep you safe. But he didn't have time for romance. Not while crafting a new world.

That had been a point of contention in your relationship for years, something you were constantly getting upset about. There was no way Naoya could know that from the thirty or so minutes they'd known each other though. So why was he asking?

"What are you even trying to figure out? Shouldn't you be more worried about getting home than what me and my girlfriend do in our alone time?" Light says, a bit snappier than before.

Naoya's grin becomes more fox-like. "I'm still thinking about that. Can I not wonder about you too?" he asks. When he receives no response from Light, he continues speaking. "I just thought it would make sense if you were a virgin. But it still adds up that you've never been with anyone else. That's why you let her have such a handle on you."

The words inflame Light, but he tries to suppress any reaction. "She doesn't have a handle on me. I handle her."

"Didn't seem like it when I asked if I could come over here."

Damn it. He got me there. What am I doing? I don't have to put up with this. I don't even know this guy. Who the hell does he think he is? I could have him dead in minutes if I wanted to. He should be on his knees- I mean bowing at my feet, thanking me for sparing his life.

Light's expression grows more agitated. "Well I do. I'm sure you think you're some kind of expert on this, but I doubt you've ever even had a girlfriend before," he fires back.

And Naoya laughs. He fucking laughs at him! Unbelievable.

"You're right, I've never had a girlfriend before, but I've been with tons of girls," he says.

Light rolls his eyes so hard, they're in danger of falling out of his skull. "I can't say I don't see why they didn't stick around."

"It's not them who make the decision to not go forward. I have no interest in having a girlfriend," he says simply, "Women are only kept around because God knew that men couldn't be burdened with the curse of bearing children. So he saddled women with that duty. That's their purpose. I don't understand why we have to pretend their existence should amount to anything more."

Silence fills the room after that mini-speech. Light had never heard anyone say anything so... like that. This guy's family really must have been out there.

"That's not-"

"It's the truth. Any man who says otherwise is lying or has been tricked into believing that he should love something so wholly beneath him," he continues.

Light doesn't even know how to argue with him when he seems so confident that he's correct. How did the conversation even get to this point?

"I can see it in your eyes, you know she's not your equal," he says and gestures to the picture with you on the shelf, "You don't have the connection with her that you have with even me, and I've known you less than an hour. She can't understand you."

The words are uncomfortable in Light's ears. They wriggle their way inside his head and wrap around his brain, squeezing and trying to push their sentiment onto him. Part of him felt it was true. Oftentimes, he didn't think you could understand him. Not from lack of effort, just as if it was something you're incapable of.

You'd whine at him for attention, pressing against his side on the couch in an attempt to get him to cuddle you. And he would sometimes, but not as much as you wanted. So your rants about his lack of affection never seemed to end. You never thought to look at it from his perspective. Always jumping to the conclusion that he didn't love you, never once considering that he just wasn't a physically affectionate person.

He still felt some guilt clawing at his stomach though, like he shouldn't be thinking of you like this.

As if Naoya can read his mind, he softens his words a bit for his next point. "I'm not saying you can't care about them - though, to be clear, I don't. But maybe you do care for your girlfriend. You just don't love her. She's a companion for you. Like a pet. Something that makes you feel needed."

"It's not that," Light says, "I know I'm needed. And I'm needed for much greater things than taking care of her. We've been together for a long time. And... we just... go together. I can't just get rid of her. Plus she can be useful sometimes."

Naoya nods, his brows rising into a patronizing look. Light hates it. Despises the assumption that he's weak for not hating you. It's just the truth, even when you drive him crazy and annoy him to levels he didn't think possible, he didn't hate you. He didn't feel passionate enough about you to hate.

He wants to talk about something else though; to leave this subject behind in favor of something that would put Naoya in the hot seat and make him insecure too. It's not his proudest moment, but he swings at the lowest hanging fruit he can think of.

"So... what's with the makeup and the hair? Did your dad not give you enough attention or something?"

Naoya laughs again, the winged tips of his eyeliner crinkling in amusement. "No. I'm daddy's favorite," he says, unaffected.

It stirs envy within Light, the way he could be so casual about being prodded at. He didn't get defensive at the implication or start stuttering and tripping over words. His jaw clenches as he tries to think of something else that could get to Naoya, but the older man beats him to it.

"You don't like it? Or are you jealous?"

He got him yet a-fucking-gain because Light freezes. He stares at Naoya, unsure of what to say.

"I'm not jealous. I was just curious. Most guys don't wear that stuff."

"I'm better than most guys," he says as if it's fact, "I could show you how to do it if you want."

"W-what? I can't- There's- I don't have any of that stuff."

"Your girlfriend doesn't have any makeup?" he asks, unconvinced, "It looks like she's wearing a lot in that picture."

"She does, but-"

"Then go get it, and I'll show you how. I can tell you want to. You may not like it, but you want to know."

And that was true. He was curious if anything else. That's what he tells himself as he rises to his feet and goes into your shared room. He sees you'd made the bed this morning before you left for work.

Your bedroom was visibly divided into two sectors. Light's was pristine. Clean without clutter, well-kept and functional. The made-up bed was the only part of yours that appeared that way. Pieces of your personality littered your nightstand. A pile of clothes he'd asked you to put away sat in the corner on the chair. And then in the farthest corner stood the vanity where you did your makeup.

He creeps over there as if you'd suddenly jump out from under the bed and scold him for even thinking about it. Looking down at the dark wood of the table, he finds that you're not very organized. A few different containers sit atop the surface, holding brushes and tubes of cream. You have a holder for your hair ties and combs. A rack for your perfume. Nowhere among these things though, does he find a black eye pencil.

Opening the drawers, he scans their contents. One is dedicated to eye shadow palettes, the next is filled with lipsticks and glosses. Finally the third has a thin, black stick tucked towards the back. He grabs it and returns to the living room where Naoya is still sitting on the couch.

Light makes his way over and sits on the adjacent cushion. He shoves the product into Naoya's palm, briefly getting a feel of how smooth the other man's hand is.

"Alright, sit back," Naoya says.

"What-" Light starts before his eyes widen. 

Naoya climbs on top of him. He's straddling him. Everything in Light screams at him to push him off, shove him to the floor and rocket to his feet to kick him out of the apartment. His heart thunders in his chest, his breaths shaking before they can even leave his lungs.

He can feel the heat of the other man's body above his. This close, he can see his golden eyes in detail. They look like that of a fox's, cunning and sly.

His slender fingers curl over Light's shoulders as he adjusts. He huffs out a laugh, and Light can feel the heat of his breath fan over his face.

"Calm down. I just have to get close enough or else it'll come out crooked. This is the easiest position."

Light nods and clears his throat. He exhales slowly, allowing his awkwardness about the situation to leave him. It's fine. He's just messing with him. He'll probably leave right after this. It's just fun.

But if it's just fun, why do his eyes keep darting towards the door to see if the knob rattles with your arrival?

Naoya scoots a little closer, his pelvis pressing against Light's belly. The cap of the makeup tool pops off, and he tucks it into his pocket.

"You have nice eyes, Light. Deep brown. Pretty," Naoya mutters as his fingers come up to tilt his head back against the couch.

A loud pop of thunder echoes through the sky outside. Following it is the soft pittering of rain against the balcony. Light swallows hard. He feels an involuntary rush of heat creeping up his neck. He hopes it's not visible, but he knows his wishes haven't been granted when Naoya chuckles.

"Blushing from just that? Does she give you any attention?"

And that's the bad part. You do give him attention. Tons of it. So much he feels like he's drowning most days. You adore calling him pretty boy, to which he scowls every time and tells you to quit it. You love running your fingers through his hair and complimenting the smooth texture before he swats your limb away and rolls the eyes Naoya just praised. He wasn't pushing him away though.

The pad of his thumb sweeps over Light's cheek, assessing the space it'd be working with.

"Close your eyes," he directs, his voice the softest it's been since they met in the alley.

So he does. The rich chocolate brown becomes obscured by his delicate lids. He shudders suddenly, realizing he was in an extremely vulnerable position. He'd let this man lure him straight into a trap. If Naoya did have any ill intent, he could certainly act on it now.

But he doesn't. All that happens is the tender stroke of the pen along the edge of his eye. Naoya doesn't say anything while he works. Repeated brushes of the tip ghost along his lashes. He feels the wetness dragging up into a point in the outer corner. The other eye gets the same treatment, the process done for the second time on that lid.

"Open," the man above him purrs.

His lashes flutter up as his eyes come back into view. He's met with a wild grin across Naoya's face. His heart feels like it's stalling in his chest, like it's losing its rhythm, unable to beat right under the pressure of his gaze.

"Wow," he croons, dragging the back of his finger over Light's cheek, "You look good. Almost as good as me."

This time, the heat stirs in a different part of Light's body. He tries to shut it down immediately. Think of something else.

"Let me see how I look," he says. If he saw how goofy he looked, surely any feelings of desire would dissolve.

"You should've brought a mirror," Naoya taunts as he gets up. He grabs a decorative one off the shelf and brings it back to the sofa. Instead of taking the opportunity to return to his previous spot next to Light, he returns to his lap. He holds the mirror up in front of his own face, letting Light look at his own face staring back.

He blinks a few times, watching as his lashes flutter and accentuate the deep lines Naoya had drawn. They stretch down to his inner corners up in the direction of his temples. The urge to reject what he's seeing gnaws at him, but he knows he likes it. He can't deny it.

"So what do you think?" Naoya asks and puts the mirror behind him on the table.

"It's not bad. Better than I thought it'd look." He figures it's better to give a half-truth rather than a complete lie. Less ammunition for Naoya to tease him with.

"You shouldn't have doubted my talents," he teases, "Let me do the bottoms now."

Without leaving room for argument, he guides Light's head back to where it had been before.

"Keep your eyes open this time."

Just as before, he obeys Naoya's command. He looks at the ceiling. He didn't think he'd be able to quell the feeling between his legs if he looked into those gilded eyes. The way his pupils dart away, as if running from Naoya's own, makes his thought process obvious.

"You have such good features," he praises in a murmur, "Cute nose, defined cheeks, pouty lips. Pretty."

And with those soft words he feels himself start to fill out his pants again. He squirms, trying to adjust in preparation for the worst case scenario. Fuck, this was humiliating. The only bright spot was that Ryuk had made himself scarce as soon as Naoya climbed on top of Light, so he wasn't here to mock from the sidelines. That would be the only thing that could make this worse.

Or so Light thought.

Because then the hand of Naoya's that isn't applying eyeliner comes up to cup his jaw. His thumb rubs across Light's plush bottom lip. Back and forth, tantalizingly slow.

He chokes back a whimper, but there's no way to hide the dilation of his pupils. Naoya catches it, of course. It's obvious by the way he leans in closer.

"Your lips feel just as soft as they look," he breathes before lowering his head further and replacing his digit with his lips.

Light moans into the kiss. His eyes shut again, and he melts beneath the gentle touch. Naoya takes the invitation to move in further, scooting even closer on Light's lap. His ass lands on the other man's thighs, the heat of their bodies' melding into one.

Flicking his tongue over the seam of Light's mouth, Naoya deepens the exchange. He tastes the sweetness of his saliva, and feels the smoothness of their tongues brushing against each other. Their lips move slowly, exploring each other more than anything else.

Naoya pulls back for a second to glance down at his face. "Your girlfriend... she can't understand. None of them can. They don't know what it's like to be one of us."

Light hangs on every word, and then leans up to go in for more. Naoya reciprocates, dropping the eyeliner onto the couch to leave streaks Light would have to deal with later. Kisses turn into full blown making out. Naoya still manages to get a few words out against his mouth.

"They don't understand how to please. What feels good," he mutters as a palm slides down to palm at Light's solid bulge, "I do though."

His hips buck into the touch on instinct, a gasp leaving his throat in tandem. Fuck, that felt so good. What was happening? He wasn't gay. Light was sure of that. He liked girls. Well maybe not liked, but he was attracted to them. He had you. He didn't think about guys like this.

Even with Naoya mentioning you, the thought of you doesn't cross Light's mind until he hears the sound of your voice. The feeling of Naoya's lips on his own had him too distracted to notice the cue he'd been previously waiting for.

"What the fuck?" you cut through the fog of lust with your sharp tone.

It almost doesn't feel real, like the nonsensical part of a dream that lets you know it's just that. He turns his head to look at you, to try and explain what you walked into. His lips leave Naoya's, but that doesn't deter him from planting a few kisses on Light's throat before looking over at you too.

What to say, what to say, what to say? Fuck. He couldn't use the cliche 'it's not what it looks like.' But what even was the truth? He was cheating on you, but... it didn't feel like it? He gawks at you for a moment before making the first attempt at justification.

"I- um... I swear, just let me explain to you-" he starts, but it's like you don't even hear him.

You stomp over to the couch, rage blazing in your eyes. "Is that MY fucking eyeliner?" you ask, absolutely incensed.

It was one thing to cheat on you, but to use YOUR makeup for the foreplay?? A whole other matter entirely.

"Yes," he says and moves Naoya back onto his part of the couch.

He quickly realizes that decision was a mistake though when the outline of his stiff cock against his pants becomes visible for everyone in the room. The evidence of his arousal just seems to upset you more. Tears start welling in your eyes, and Light's mind scrambles to defuse this situation before it gets out of hand.

It wasn't so much you being hurt that bothered him; rather he worried you might do something irrational to get back at him. This was the part of your relationship he didn't want to admit to Naoya. You knew most of his secrets. Being together since the two of you were eighteen, you saw so much of him. Not only could you expose what you saw right now, you had the potential to ruin his life.

He considers writing your name down on the piece of paper he keeps in his pocket, but it was far too risky. You'd know what he was doing in a second, and you had a piece on you too. You could scribble out Light Yagami just as quickly. His only hope would be that you'd be so tempted to write him out a long, horrible death, that it'd give him the advantage of time over you.

But instead of testing fate, he decides to deal with the problem head on.

"Baby," he starts, forcing out one of the pet names you always begged him to call you, "Just listen to me, ok? You have every right to be upset, but just don't do anything irrational. I can explain what happened."

You stay where you are, body visibly rigid with anger. But you don't lunge at him or storm off, so that's a good sign.

Before he can continue, Naoya scoffs from behind him, sounding more annoyed by the interruption than anything else. "Women. Creatures of pure emotion."

That does set you off. "Who the fuck even are you?"

Light reaches out for your hand and guides you to sit on the couch next to him before this can get any worse.

"That's Naoya," he begins. He then gives you a summary of the last hour and a half, leaving out a few choice parts.

Your face slowly loses emotion and retreats into a neutral expression. It both worries him and settles his nerves.

"So are you gay?" you ask at the end of his story, "Is that what you're trying to tell me? Is that why you won't touch me?"

"What?" he says defensively, "No! I'm not gay. I'm just... is that really all you took away from that?"

You shrug. 

Naoya chimes in from behind again. "You can't blame him not wanting to touch you on being gay. That just seems like the reaction any sensible person would have."

"Why the fuck are you still here?" you snap at him, "Claire's is probably missing their best customer, so feel free to leave."

"Light told you why I'm here," he smirks. He leans forward and rests his chin on your boyfriend's shoulder, looking at his face. "I think I was right before. She is jealous of me."

Light's pretty sure you're about to lunge over him and tackle Naoya through the sliding glass door, out into the rain.

"Stop," he says, shooting the other man a look.

He then grabs your hand and squeezes it, a gesture that's supposed to be reassuring.

"I'm sorry for putting you in this situation. You didn't deserve it," he says, speaking in his usual calm tone of voice, "You aren't the problem. I'm the one who felt the need to do this. I just have so much going on, and I feel trapped. I don't know where to go, so I went for the first sign of escape I could find. And that was wrong, I know. I should've just talked to you about it."

It was all what you wanted to hear, and you wanted to believe it so badly. He knew just how to play you.

"You don't have to leave though. You're important to me. You can be a part of this too."

"This isn't a porno, Light. I'm not just gonna drop my panties because you said sorry."

Your external rejection was a display meant to hide your feelings within. You hated that he wanted to continue whatever this was with this guy, but you were at least happy you had the option to be included. You wanted to believe that this was simply him getting swept up in the thrill of something new, but that he'd always return to the comfort of familiarity with you.

He reaches out and cups your cheek, pulling a little to scoot you closer. You follow along and inch over to the middle cushion.

"See? Obedient like a pet," Naoya whispers, nipping at Light's earlobe and pecking the skin beneath.

You shoot him a glare, but it does no good.  He doesn't even look your way.

Light doesn't respond to the animosity. He focuses on walking the thin line between you and Naoya, keeping this situation balanced and you from exploding and reigning hellfire upon his life.

"Good girl," he mumbles. Another name you'd asked for before. He'd have to dial it back a little in a moment, or it'd be obvious how thick he's laying it on. "Just try it for me. You'll feel much better with us then you would be sulking alone in the bedroom."

You pause, taking one last moment of hesitation. Your eyes rotate between them as you consider getting up and keeping your dignity. Lightning flashes outside and thunder follows. You know you shouldn't do this, but you can't rid the part of you that wants to please Light. That wants him to care for you like you care for him. It's so deeply rooted, that it's easier to just give in than try and weed it out.

You nod your head.

His hand pulls you all the way in, connecting your lips. He's not as passionate as he was before, but you didn't get a close enough look to know that. In a way, he feels like he's mimicking Naoya's techniques on you. You sigh softly and shut your eyes, returning the affection in full.

On Light's throat, Naoya attaches his mouth. That strikes a spark within the younger man again. His lips float up and down the column, gliding over the tender skin with precision. It works a whimper out of Light, and that's when Naoya's hand creeps around his body and slides up his thigh. His palm finds his erection, which hadn't fully dwindled yet.

"Still hard, Light? You must want me bad," he taunts before using his teeth to pull at the flesh on his neck.

He moans, and your eyes flash with jealousy. You stare into the golden spheres, hating this man you barely even knew.

Bringing your lips down, you begin to work on the other side of Light's throat. You lap at his pulse point before attaching your lips and sucking a little mark onto the pale expanse. In tandem, your hand slides down his chest to rest on his thigh teasingly.

As if switching positions with you, Naoya rises to Light's lips. He resumes the kiss that you had interrupted. And even with your hand getting closer down below, he keeps his own cupped over Light's cock, like he's his instead of yours.

Light whimpers from all the attention on him. He sinks back into the plush cushions, and both you and Naoya follow along. His eyes droop closed, allowing him to just feel. 

Without the visuals, he can still tell the touches of Naoya and you apart. Your lips are smaller, your touches more delicate. Your fingers linger and tease, coaxing a reaction. Naoya goes for what he wants, and what he wants is Light to squirm and whine. He paws and grabs, rough squeezes and harsh bites between kisses. He makes his heart pound and his head spin, struggling to keep up.

Before he knows it, a familiar hand is creeping up his shirt while one he doesn't recognize so well slides into his pants. He gasps as Naoya's fingertips make direct contact with his dick. They swipe at the sensitive tip, rubbing the ridge and drifting across the slit. His hips writhe, pushing him further back into the couch.

You huff. It wasn't fair. Of course you wouldn't be able to make Light feel as good when you only had access to his upper body. It was an unfair disadvantage, but you decide to try your hardest anyway. Your nails lightly scrape circles around his nipples, teasing the buds but not touching them just yet

His eyes snap open and dart to you. You'd never tried that before. "Wh-what are you doing?" he asks.

"Nothing, baby. Just trying to make you feel good," you whisper. 

You didn't understand how you touching his nipples earned him questioning you, but this guy he'd known for two hours could hold his balls in the palm of his hand without a shred of hesitation. You just decide to silence your annoyance by leaning in to kiss him again.

Naoya had left Light's lips in favor of pushing down the man's pants and watching his cock leak and drool. Shimmery beads of precum oozed out of him with each firm tug to his cock.

"So much coming out of you already... we should get to the good stuff so you don't cum too early," he mocks with one last squeeze to Light's shaft.

He then stands up and removes his own clothing. You follow suit and do the same for yourself, not wanting to be unmatched.

At first, Light lazily watches the both of you, taking in the sight of your breasts and Naoya's toned stomach. But once Naoya's removed his shirt and discarded it to the floor, Light's eyes lock on the other man.

Silver piercings shine through Naoya's nipples, and it's obvious Light's never seen anything like it before. He studies them as though he's discovering something for the first time. His jaw doesn't drop, but it might as well have from how wide his eyes are.

You drop the rest of your clothes without much effort, annoyed by the lack of attention from your boyfriend. Meanwhile, Naoya takes his time. He peels off his pants, building the seductive tension with a measured pace.

Crawling back onto the couch, you nuzzle Light's neck like a kitten, cooing in his ear. "Need you inside me, baby. Want you so bad."

He nods vaguely, your words clearly going in one ear and shooting right back out at you. His eyes are still on Naoya, who's now standing there stroking his own cock to full attention.

You scowl. Of course, Naoya's length is as pretty as the rest of him. It's a good size with a proud head that makes even you crave a taste. He's well-groomed, everything about him, enticing.

He smiles at your boyfriend, arrogance written all over his face. "You can fuck your little girlfriend, Light. And she can get me ready for you."

Without a second thought, Light nods, and suddenly, he's much more invested in you. He guides you to lay back on the couch and gets to his knees at the end of you. Naoya takes up the spot next to your head, leaning against the cushions for stability.

Disrobing the rest of the way, Light lines up his dick to your entrance, faster than he'd ever done when it was just the two of you. He slides the tip in, grunting at how tight you are. Your slick coats him inch by inch until he's bottomed out.

Up top, Naoya strokes your hair and looks down at you with sinister intent. His cock awaits your mouth inches away from your lips.

"Use any teeth, and I'll make sure you have none left before I'm done with you," he says lowly.

Your eyes harden into a glare, but when the reddened head bumps your lips, you accept it. The shaft slides over your tongue to the back. The man above you lets out a groan and tilts his head back.

"Mmmm... she's got a good mouth," Naoya hums, "You teach her that, or is she just naturally such a slut?"

Light had been focused on rabbiting his hips against your center, finding some relief from how worked up he'd gotten. The words bring him back to reality. He looks up at the other man, taking a second to process the question.

"Oh... she's always been good at that," he says.

And it was the truth. You gave good blowjobs, and Light's favorite part about them was that they made you feel connected to him or something. All he had to do was sit back, close his eyes, and let you make him cum, and you wouldn't bitch about the lack of intimacy between you two.

He curls his fingers into your thighs harder, lifting them a bit so he has leverage to fuck into you harder. Sounds of your elicit activities fill the room. Skin claps against skin while you gag on Naoya's cock. Hips pump against your face, a hand cupped on the back of your head to make sure you take it all. You can barely breathe. Your nails dig into the cushions, and your body squirms more in an attempt to find some reprieve.

All Naoya does is laugh. He grins wider as he watches you struggle beneath him. His hand extends to paw at your breast and casually tweak a nipple, bringing broken whimpers from you in between the garbled groans.

"Look at you," Naoya coos. He doesn't even know you, but it seems he can't help mocking. "This is what you're good for, huh? Light's been too soft on you. Hasn't shown you your place."

The lack of oxygen makes the words roll over you like water. You keep sucking the best you can as Naoya fucks your face and Light pounds into your cunt. They both thrust with one thing in mind: their own pleasure. You're nothing more than a conduit between them.

Soon, that changes. Naoya pulls his dick from your mouth. It drips and gleams with your saliva. You inhale deeply, enjoying the fresh sensation of air hitting your lungs. He steps back and goes down to stand behind Light. His hands land on your boyfriend's sides, rubbing up and down the lean expanse of his torso.

"Feeling good? Is she tight?" he whispers as he kisses up the other man's neck, nosing at his undyed hair.

"Y-yeah," Light stammers. He feels like he's gonna malfunction.

His hips rock without error, seemingly unable to stop ricocheting into the warm, wet embrace of your pussy. Naoya scrapes his nails down Light's stomach and scratches at his v-line. His back arches and a series of whimpers pours from his lips.

"I bet you're even tighter."

Light's previously drooping eyes widen, and before he knows it, Naoya's hand has slid to his ass, fingers already prodding at his entrance. He whimpers again, trying to think of a question or a protest. This couldn't be happening.

But then it does. Two digits slip inside. And fuck, it feels so right.

Back and forth, back and forth. He maintains the steady rhythm while fucking you. From your angle, you're not totally sure what he's doing, so you let your head fall back and bliss out.

"That's right," Naoya breathes, "Fuck yourself back on my fingers. Stretch yourself out for the real thing."

And Light continues to do just that. Naoya keeps it at two fingers, never trying out a third. After he believes the other man's had enough practice, he pulls his fingers out, relishing the needy mewls Light makes.

He slots his wet dick between his cheeks before slowly pushing it in. Light has to stop for a moment. Give himself some time to adjust to the feeling of being full. A shiver sweeps up his body, and he clutches the dough of your thighs harder.

Naoya soothes the sensation by rubbing a hand up and down his spine rhythmically. Once he's calmed down, the same hand slides into his soft locks and grips hard. He yanks him, forcing his back to arch, and fucks into him harder.

You can clearly see what's happening now, but even if you couldn't, the loud moan Light lets out would have clued you in. He whimpers, still moving inside you a bit, but the movement of his body is more controlled by the force Naoya's using to pummel into him.

His eyes roll back and his jaw goes slack. He'd never felt anything like this.

"What'd I tell you? I understand," Naoya grunts, "You're never gonna be able to go back when you've had a taste of this."

Light shakes his head, though he feels so hazy, he's not sure if the motion is clear. As he becomes more used to the feeling, he starts to be able to move against you a little more. You reach a hand down and rub at your clit. Light didn't seem to be too concerned with getting you there, so you would ensure you made it yourself.

The extra stimulation on your clit makes you tighten up on Light's cock. He whines and bites his lip as Naoya continues fucking him mercilessly.

"You gonna cum? Fill her up while I fill you," he grunts behind him.

Light nods, body growing shakier as his orgasm comes closer.

Only a few more desperate swirls on your bundle of nerves, and you reach your peak. You spasm around Light, writhing on the couch beneath him. He can't take it, the feeling of Naoya battering a sweet spot inside he didn't even know he had combined with your walls trying to milk him dry.

With a whimper, his cock starts to spurt inside you. It kicks with each rope of cum, his hips twitching in between the two bodies on either side of him. His head falls back to rest against Naoya's sweaty shoulder. The other man's breaths feel cool on his own slick skin.

Naoya can tell he's cumming from how his body moves and takes it as an invitation to pump his own load deep inside of Light. He thrusts all the way in and lets loose, moaning as his release floods the other man. He fucks it in a few times, noting every little twitch or sound Light makes.

When all is said and done, the room is quiet. The only sounds are the harsh breaths leaving each of your lungs, and the tail end of the storm raging outside.

Naoya's the first to pull out, easing his cock from Light's hole. He watches a bit of cum leak out afterward and grins at the sight.

Light goes next, slipping out of you and crumpling down onto the sofa.

You stay where you are for the moment, just taking in what happened.

The silence feels awkward for you and tense for Light but satisfying for Naoya.

You need some time. You can't think while they're both sitting right there. Standing up, you stretch your limbs a little. You intend to just leave, but then your eyes catch on the black eye pencil from earlier.

Your eyes narrow at Light when you snatch it from the couch.

"You and your boyfriend better buy me new eye liner," you pout before turning on your heel and making your way to the bedroom.

[yaemikobbg]

Request from @odilemukami

Warnings: afab reader, unprotected sex, pregnancy, rough sex, biting/hickeys, not proofread, IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THESE TOPICS PLEASE SCROLL

You, Silver, and Sebek had planned on going into the forest to wander around the area to see if it’s the same in the past and future. But General Lilia had other plans.

He told you that he needed you to stay behind because he needed to discuss some matters with you. Silver was a little disappointed but didn’t argue with his father and told him okay and Sebek just went along with it. You were confused because you couldn’t think of any matters he would want to speak to you about. You had done everything he had asked of you lately which wasn’t much just simply getting water from the well, setting up tents, starting a fire, delivering stuff to Melenor for him, and a few other things.

You hadn’t forgotten something did you? In fact you forgot nothing. As you turned the corner into what seemed to be his room he grabbed you by the collar throwing you onto his bed. It was quite comfortable compared to the bed that you had been sleeping in. Before you could ask him what he was doing he slammed his lips into yours pushing you down pinning you under him.

He shoved his tongue into your mouth not giving you a chance to breathe. He proceeded to make out with you for a little while longer before pulling back a string of saliva coming from your mouths. He smirked at you as he began to undress you kissing down your chest and leaving dark hickeys all over you as he made his way down your body.

You both were fully naked as he was biting and marking you everywhere neglecting where you wanted him to touch you the most. Every whimper, every whine, every sound. He listened to it taking note of all the different noises he can make you make and how he can make you make more of them.

He brought his hand down your thigh straight to your clit rubbing it quickly making you gasp and begin to make breathy moans. You tried to cover your mouth but he grabbed it and pinned both your hands above you.

“Don’t cover your mouth, human. I want to hear every sound you can make.”

After a little while you found yourself getting pounded by him. He continued to pin your hands above your head using it as support as he also had one hand grabbing you hip to keep you in place as he thrusted his cock into you. He would let out the occasional groan whenever you tightened around him. Both of you becoming sweaty as he bit your shoulder drawing blood as he released inside of you.

He sat up more keeping his cock in you and smirking.

“Tired? Well, your just going to have to deal with it.”

———————————————————————

It was about a month after Malleus’s overbolt and that whole situation with General Lilia. Everything was somewhat back to normal as you all started to talk about your feelings a little more openly now due to the overbolt.

You noticed how you began to throw up a lot more in the mornings now and Lilia had noticed it also asking if you okay. You honestly didn’t know until you were reading a book and it clicked in your head. Your pregnant.

But how? It was a fairytale so shouldn’t it be impossible? You decided to go get a pregnancy test just in case and once you took it you realized it was official now.

You looked at it in horror. You did want the child but how were you going to explain this to Lilia? You didn’t know how to tell him so you started to breakdown on the floor in the bathroom both you and Lilia had shared. He ended up hearing your slight sobs when he went to grab something he had forgotten.

He slowly opened the door to see you crying on the floor quickly running over to you grabbing your hand.

“What happened, my love?”

You looked at the ground and pointed to the top of the sink and he looked and grabbed the pregnancy looking at it then looking at you at least twice. “Is this….yours?” He spoke looking at you with wide eyes. You nodded.

“How? We haven’t….in so long.” He said with a shaky voice. You looked at him with an upset expression biting you lip before speaking. You had started to explain it and you watched as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped when you told him. He was happy it was his but he was confused on how that was possible through a fairy tale.

He smiled at you after a few minutes putting a hand on your shoulder as he held the pregnancy test. “Well, since it’s mine I guess I’ll have to take responsibility.” He had a joking tone to his voice but you knew he meant it. You were relived he wasn’t going to abandon you because of this. You rested your head on his shoulder in comforting silence as this new chapter of your life opened.

MDNI banner credit: cafekitsune

[thesensteawitch]

What's Your Beauty?🥀

Pick A Pile Reading

💚(Left to Right- Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)💚

Hello, Senstea Souls!

I am back with another collective reading that will tell you what's beautiful about you. Take this reading as it resonates. For any personal readings feel free to DM me or email me at thesensteawitch@gmail.com.

Pile 1

Tarot Cards: 2 of Swords, 8 of Pentacles, 4 of Wands, 5 of Wands, 2 of Wands, Ace of Cups, 3 of Cups, 7 of Swords

My dear pile 1, you are as beautiful as it gets. It's only you who cannot see it. Just like a deer doesn't know that the fragrance is coming from its naval and searches for it in the whole forest same is the case with you. You see beauty in everything and everyone except yourself. Have you forgotten that the beauty that we see in others is in ourselves? Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder. God, I feel so sorry for you that I have to remind you this because something happened to you your own thoughts make you believe that you're not beautiful. I will tell you what's your beauty. Your beauty is that you are hardcore loyal when it comes to relationships in your life. You make sure that every friendship and relationship is based on strong foundations. You provide stability and protection to your loved ones. You don't see people as competitors and this quality of you is such emanant that others envy you. Even those who are close to you. It's those who you cherish the most. They secretly want to cut your wings and they even do. Someone is fishy around you. Some of you may be great planners, adventurers, and artists. I sense strong Sagittarius and Capricorn placements. The thread that you bind with others is your beauty. How you intricate relationships with calm and how you give others space to pour their heart out is your beauty, pile 1. Your only weak point is you give others words more value than yours. And that's where you lose your beauty. New voices emerge in your head and keep feeding you with information about someone that you are not. Your beauty grows on people. It's slow but refreshing. You nurture others to the extent that you sometimes end up parenting them. You're so beautiful pile 1 save yourself from predators. Sending so much love your way. If you want to know your Divine Masculine/Feminine energy then feel free to drop a message in my Tumblr inbox. Below I am sharing my:

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Pile 2

Tarot Cards: 9 of swords, 6 of wands, 3 of cups, 6 of swords, the hanged man, 7 of cups, 2 of wands, king of pentacles

Hello, my dear pile 2. I see something strange here. You stick to extremes. If you shift your perception and choose to see the situation upside down you'll notice what you've achieved till now. If you just keep aside the sleepless nights you'll see what those sleepless nights have given to you. They made you shine like a star in front of a crowd. You've been praised by many people in your lifetime. There may be many who broke your heart but there was always that one person who acted as the silver lining to your dark clouds. You're a great performer pile 2. You are a great friend. You are an overachiever despite facing so many challenges in your life. And you doubt your beauty? Come on!!!!! You have the quality of Jesus, self-sacrifice. You've sacrificed a lot to be where you are today. You are very good at balancing things, pile 2. Somewhere your career might be suffering nowadays but believe me you can manage. I hear, “We have come so far my dear look how we have grown.” Free yourself from all the wrong narratives of beauty you have got stuck in your brain. Beauty comes from within. Focus on grooming your soul and pull it out of the mud. You need emotional healing. You are too concerned about your relationships. You are everything a person can ask for. You don't need assurance from anybody. You don't even need it from me. You know that deep down ARE A BEAUTIFUL SOUL. Your dreams are waiting for you to achieve them. You think things through is your beauty. For some of you, I am getting that your sibling may be your strength. Those who stayed are the ones who know what you have. Those who force you to stay now don't know how to stop themselves from taking from you. You can sometimes be that addictive for people. Ask yourself what's there that you need to heal within. If you want to know your Divine Masculine/Feminine energy then feel free to drop a message in my Tumblr inbox. Below I am sharing my:

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Pile 3

Tarot Cards: Temperance, The Fool, 5 of Pentacles, The Empress, Knight of Wands, The Star, 3 of Cups, 8 of Cups

Hello, my beautiful pile 3. I see that your beauty is that you stay with people through thick and thin. Even if you suffer you stay. You only walk away when you are not cherished or valued for what you are giving to another person. You have passion for life. You know your limits but you still carry yourself as if you are limitless. You stretch your dreams as far as you can. You are not afraid to demand. You don't think you deserve less but life at times throws difficulties your way. When the choice is needed to be made you realise that you're only human and you can only do so much. You have many wishes and there's no way that you feel you can't have them. Some of you may have life path 5. You are dreamers. Your beauty lies in your never-ending optimism. You work hard and smart. Your ideas are unmatchable. You not only think but show the world what we can dream we can achieve. I am amazed! So beautiful, pile 3. No one can stop you from achieving what you want and people around you know that. You have the strength to walk away from relationships that come in the way of your big goals. The world you want to create is just not about money. It's also about the community. As you have so many desires and things to do your life asks you to organize well so that you can perform tasks well and on time. It's important for you to not let yourself get involved in work that doesn't fit well with you. Your enthusiasm can sometimes take the best of you. Make sure you plan things through by not letting your passion go out of your hand. Last but not least you carry the faith of a child. If you once prayed for something you believe it's going to happen. It's a quality that adults struggle with but I am happy to see that you still carry faith in your heart. It is the only thing that is going to bring your dreams into reality. It's the most important ingredient, my friend. If you want to know your Divine Masculine/Feminine energy then feel free to drop a message in my Tumblr inbox. Below I am sharing my:

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[noeou]

MEMENTOS OF YOU.

as the scariest students in the nrc, they can't help but spark curiosity in those around them when he's found with a rather 'adorable' souvenir. little do the others know they have a rather 'adorable' lover with a matching one back at home.

includes: riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, and malleus draconia.

contains: fluff! romantic. overbolt gang. implied immortal lover for malleus. implied long distance relationship. reader is referred to as 'pretty.'

more like this: masterlist.

sincerely noe ,⠀my middle finger is cramping because i can type with every finger but my thumb and index. i wish i could've written more this weekend, my apologies :(

riddle : an earring in the shape of a rose.

yes, just one. at home, you have the other.

he rarely ever takes it off, only when he cleans it or goes to sleep. but even for the latter he has a spacial velvet case for it.

he keeps a simple silver earring in his other ear, because he isn't the biggest fan of feeling something on one ear and not the other.

the adeuce duo are the only ones nosy enough to ask about it, making their housewarden redder than the piece of jewlery itself.

"are you two done staring?"

riddle was sipping his tea, trying his utmost best at ignoring them. it was their whispering to one another that made it so impossible.

"uhm, yea... i guess." their eyes said otherwise.

"what is it?" riddle sighed, putting his glass down.

finally looking away from him, they exchange glances with one another.

"hurry then, speak."

"why are you wearing that?" ace asked, subconsciously tugging on his own ear.

"— and where's the other?" deuce added.

you couldn't help but wonder if the blush on riddle's face resembled that of the one he had in the moment, as he recounted the story to you.

leona : a photo of himself.

yes, he left you with a massive portrait of himself. how romantic.

he keeps a smaller one of you everywhere. in his wallet, under his pillow, in a random flower pot...

ruggie has even memorized what you look like after finding a photo of you everywhere.

when he first found the lion doing something other than sleeping, enma couldn't help but ask:

"who is that?"

leona didn't move his eyes nor attention away from your conversation lighting his face as he messaged you. but he wouldn't pass up a moment to talk about you so, he'll answer the newbie's question.

"who is who?"

enma pointed at leona's phonecase, and repeated, "who is that?"

"yn?" he asked. looking at the case as well, only you would have noticed his glare soften for a second. "yn."

waiting a moment to see is he'd continue, enma proceeded, "who's yn?"

"why is that any of you business?" leona sat up, setting his phone down beside him. answering for the, now pissed off, house warden his phone lit up with another notification from you. the heart next to your name saying all it needed to.

azul : fisher’s net keychains.

the meaning is unbelievably corny, he refuses to tell anyone what. (including you.)

he found them when he was looking for a gift to give you when he asked you out for the first time.

high on the feeling of adrenaline when you agreed to the first date, he thought that the fisher's nets symbolized how, while there are many fish in the sea, you still caught him. completely enthralled in everything about you.

it's a small trinket with his many, many keys. a constant reminder that the new bowl is only temporary. (i need to get over this fish stuff, im sorry.)

tossing the keys up yet again, looking for a gold one that looked like every other one on the chain. azul let out a huff, beyond frustrated by now. he was supposed to be on a phone call with you, but he left his phone in his office.

not a great way to end the week.

as if drawn by his struggle, a nosy eel popped out, behind him.

"whatcha doin'?" floyd questioned, examining the keys with more intent than the other.

with holding his scream, azul sighed, "floyd... i was looking for my office keys. what are you doing here it's past curfew."

"your keys are too loud."

oh.

"here they are." floyd pulled up the mini net chain, a specific gold key much like the one azul was looking for. "you always keep these to in their own ring, thank me later! and stop being noisy."

how was it possible that a simple net could leave the house warden as flustered as he was? thankfully, floyd was too tired to care.

jamil : a mini music box.

he found them at the marketplace, two that looked very different but at the same at the same time.

one had a person, hugged by snakes in the center; upon opening. the other had a man and a swan at his feet.

you can guess which went to who.

he made you pull an all-nighter with him, trying to pick music for it.

“this?” a random tune played from the antique. as tired as you were, you couldn’t help but laugh at the stupidity of it.

“when you remember me while you’re at one of the prestigious schools in the land… you want to listen to beatboxing?” you were near tears at the thought of it.

“well actually it’s for you.. i’d say my first beatboxing attempt went well.” jamil didn’t look at you as he continued fidgeting with it.

“oh im sorry— every time i miss the love of my life, and i can’t call you ‘cause of our conflicting schedules, i’ll want to listen to your beatboxing.” you snatched the gadget from him with minimal force, “i’ll find something, you dork.”

vil : a mirror.

he's one that used magic on it before gifting it to you. you both can see each other in its reflection, upon request. it's not in a creepy way, it's voice locked so not anyone can look into it.

it's convenient because you two aren't cropped on your screens and can see one another whenever.

rook has walked in on him using it once and boy was he confused.

most of the time, he'll watch you do whatever in your room or just the room itself when your out. it's relaxing and soothes his homesickness.

"oh my— vil! you creep!" you nearly screamed when you entered the room, the familiar form of your lover staring right back at you through the glass of the mirror. letting out a laugh you through a jacket over the surface to cover it.

"hey! how rude." the housewarden glared at you, a silence taking over.

you tossed you bag on you bed, grabbing a seat and sitting infront of the mirror. mirroring the fairest's position.

"you're taking care of yourself." he noted, finally.

a smile returning, you broke your stare and looked away embarrassed. "you as well."

"ask me." he smiled back, softly.

only the question he asks you most came to mind, curiously you obeyed, "vil, who's the fairest of them all?"

"you who continues to plague my thought, dear. it's been a while... how are you?"

idia : plushies of each other.

he found you could make custom ones when he was looking for some of his favorite character, when he was procrastinating packing.

he has so many of you everywhere in his room, it's arguably the cleanest item in there.

the one he keeps on his lap when he games actually has a small bluetooth speaker in it, that he connects his phone to when you both call.

he also has a small one he keeps as an ipad chain, the sight of it made headmaster curious. what a great way to start the first day.

"idia shroud!" crowley's booming voice scared the introvert to something near death, if not death itself.

"h-headmaster? w-what- no- can i help y.. you?" idia asked, glancing around, nervously.

"who's this? err.. what's this?" crowley lifted the mini you with the hope of a closer look.

unable to speak and wishing he could jump into the screen of his ipad, idia decided he might just do that from now on.

malleus : a compass filled with magic.

not just any compass though, compasses that were tuned with magic from the wizard himself.

it was so many years ago that he gifted yours to you, keeping his for himself. when you found his, you couldn't help but 'decorate' it a bit.

while malleus found all the compass coated in the charms and what not of your favorite colors, he found it endearing. much unlike his caregiver who couldn't stop laughing for a week straight.

lilia helped him do the same to yours, telling your lover it was only fair he did it back.

"lilia, are you almost done?" malleus peeked into the general's room, fiddling with his hands, "i was hoping to get it back to yn as soon as possible..."

"ah, you youngsters with you impatience!" lilia didn't look away from his project, tongue sticking out at the corner of his smirk as he concentrated. "the sooner you stop distracting me the sooner i finish!"

"very well," malleus stared at lilia, equally as anxious and hesitant as he was when he entered.

you happened to run into the sight of him pacing outside of lilia's quarters, curiosity getting the best of you. "malleus, my love, is everything alright?"

looking up from his gloved hands, he smiled at you, "hm, i suppose. can i assist you, dear?"

"yes," you smiled up at him, hugging his arm, "have you seen my compass, by chance? my locating magic is failing me at the moment."

you already have the fae's marriage blessing, you can reign all hell on him now.