lessonsformydaughters

[bookishfeylin]

I just wanted to let u know ur posts and analysis' about Tamlin has softened a lot of my very strong hatred for him. He reminds me a lot my step-dad in a lot of ways and i was incredibly resistant towards Any kind of sympathy or anything else towards him

I have been 100% aware it's full on projection on my part lol but ur posts have put a lot into perspective on Tamlin, and I think a lot of it is is bec u don't try to justify any of his actions or tear anyone down to lift him up. You don't even need to slander Rhys to do it, either

you've presented so many of ur posts very eloquently without a lot of bias imo and I know a large part of my sheer hatred of Rhys is due to the Fandom and the books themselves justifying his every action. and I think bec u actively do not do that to Tamlin I was able to hate him a little bit less

so thank u

- queenofshadowsandflame

Hello! Thank you so much! This was such a lovely compliment!

I'd consider myself a book1!Feyre stan and a Feylin stan of course, and although I really, truly love my ship, but I also want to be cognizant of the fact that many people find half of my ship (Tamlin) a triggering character, so I've always attempted to advocate for my ship whilst not undermining what he becomes later on, because as someone who finds Rhysand reminiscent of my abuser I know what it's like for people to undermine my feelings about a character being triggering and I'd hate to do that to others.

I've dissected his abuse all throughout my 'tamlin's abuse' tag, but I wrote my most thorough breakdown of Tamlin's and Rhysand's abuse here using the National Domestic Violence Hotline if you're interested and I talk about his red flags in book one in comparison to the bat boys here as well. I'm glad that I've managed to remain balanced in my discussion of his character and not let it be clouded by my love for my ship that my analyses were written tastefully and objectively enough to not bother you. This honestly really made my day :)

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Small Cuts

Jason Todd x Reader

wc: 1.7 K summary: Red Hood saves you from the chaos, being scared shitless warnings: standard Gotham violence, description of minor injuries, (panic attack), slight angst/comfort, established relationship a/n: for my loyal Red Hood fans (you know who you are), here's a special drabble I came up with while looking through my notes. have fun (divider)

Jason quickly dodges another punch, putting a bullet between the muggers eyes. Yes, Bruce said no guns and killing, but he isn‘t Bruce. He doesn‘t care, these shits need to go down, they did that themselves by doing wrongs. It seems that Dick managed to escort as many civilians as possible from the mall, getting back to his brother to fight by his side. He knows Bane is a powerful guy, but his small army seems to be quite strong too. It‘s annoying him, he probably has a broken rib by now, and the cuts along his body sting, it getting more difficult to fight against the remaining soldiers.

A scarily familiar, shrill scream sounds amidst the chaos, his breath hitching under his mask. He really hopes it‘s not the person he thinks it is. With a quick punch to the other‘s head, he can search for who screamed, already cursing Dick for not clearing the floor properly. It seems like he is on autopilot, remembering you telling him about going on a quick shop to the mall, see if there is anything new. That same mall he is fighting criminals in right now.

He finally spots you, trapped between the wall and a huge shelf that crashed against it, you being in between it. There is just enough space for you to fit in, but not enough to crawl out of it on your own. Besides, you‘ve never looked so terrified before, not even able to breath properly in your panicked state.

Without sharing another glance, he runs up to you and pushes the shelf away from the wall, grunting at how heavy it is. Now that the huge weight is off, you intake a deep breath, close to hyperventilating again. You can‘t even register who is in front of you or that you are free again.

Jason really wants to just let the medics from outside take care of you, but he can‘t. He carefully scoops you up, holding your head close against him, as he hurries away from the fighting scene, patting your back softly with his other hand. Meanwhile, you can barely register that you aren‘t crushed between the wall anymore, but in someone‘s arms, taking you away.

»S- Lady, you‘re alright! I‘m bringing you to safety, you‘re gonna be okay.«

The slightly distorted voice attempts to calm you down, doing little to actually make you stop from panicking. Jason cursed himself inwardly as he almost slipped, having to keep his secret identity from you while still outside, being close to giving up and patching you up right here; call you his favourite nicknames and petnames. It‘s not like he doesn‘t trust you, no, he would do anything for you because you‘d do anything for him. He still sometimes cries himself to sleep, thinking he doesn‘t deserve you. Now, he is close to crying again, but not because of that. His world is injured, because he wasn‘t careful enough. He should‘ve been the one escorting civilians, maybe he would have spotted you sooner.

With quick strides, Jason finally sets you down onto his couch. These are the rare moments he is glad he lives close to the mall, being still dead-concerned about you.

Your knee is badly scraped, a couple of dark bruises littering on your exposed skin, small cuts across your face.Oh, your pretty face. It‘s all his fault.

As if on instinct, he gets his med kit and kneels down in front of the couch, craddling your face in his hands. Now safe in his apartment, he doesn‘t care about his secret identity being revealed to you, he just wants to make this better.

»Darling, I‘m here, don‘t you worry, okay? It‘s me, Jason. Jay-jay.«

Before you can respond, he takes off his helmet and discards it to the floor, cleaning your small scrapes around his face carefully. His fingers barely touch your skin, the wet rug gently cleaning the little blood off of your forehead and cheeks, his own face looking way worse than yours.

Gasping, you finally take in his face and feel a rush of worry again. Leaning up, you cup his cheek, seeing his black eye and cut across his chin. He looks absolutely done, yet he is still on his knees, cleaning at your own wounds.

He is immediately alerted, searching your face for any sign of pain or discomfort. He doesn‘t seem to realise he is injured as well.

»W-what is it? Did I hurt you?« What is that question? Of course he hurt you, he should‘ve been there way sooner.

Taking a deep breath, you try to use your voice; being still shaken up and weak.

»Your fucking eye...« Jason frowns even more at your weak voice, huffing out and leaning you back down on your back. He bites down on his inner cheek harshly, trying to focus and work on your injuries as best as possible. Your eyes stay on his face, silently observing him as you finally start to breath more normally.

Your light scrapes sting as he cleans them up, putting small bandages over them.

»Don‘t they need you?« You croak out quietly again, whincing lightly as he cleans your scraped knee, the wet cloth becoming bloody.

»They can handle it. I need you to be safe first.« Jason mutters back, feeling guilty and bad for causing you more pain while patching you up. It hurts more but you bear through, leaning up on your elbows to see how bad your knee is. You grimace lightly, hissing at the familiar sting while he cleans your wound.

Jason doesn‘t glance to your face anymore, completely focussed on taking care of you. He carefully wraps a bandage around your knee, lifting it up a little on the couch. His fingertips barely graze your skin, his touch even more gentle than usual. Your body is still trembling from the adrenaline, slumping back on the couch with a heavy sigh. It all comes to your senses.

Jason is Red Hood. He just saved you from that terror attack in the mall. Seems to be in a worse shape than you and still patches you up as gentle as possible. He left his team behind just to take you to safety.

»Take off your shirt, need to see the bruises.«

His voice snaps you out of your slow procession of events, humming lightly in thought before carefully pulling off your shirt. It hurts to move your arms up, feeling a painful stretch around your right side. He helps you take it off, eyes quickly scanning over your big bruise around your ribs. It looks even worse now, a darker bruise evident against your right side. He wants to punch himself, he never meant to hurt you.

It‘s not even his fault. He was just fighting, not having been in charge for escorting civilians. Maybe he shouldn‘t feel guilty, he knows better than blaming himself for something that he didn‘t do. But it‘s just unfair, he could‘ve made it less worse if he only put an eye out and saw you and—

»Jason! Your nose is bleeding.«

You finally managed to pull him out of his thoughts, not knowing what to do. Jason quickly stands up again and gets the bathroom, leaning over the sink to get his nose clean and make it stop bleeding. Rushing over, you limp the way to Jason and get to his side, trying to see in what shape he is right now.

»I‘m fine, why are you standing? Get down- sit down, darling, you don‘t need to do anything.«

»I am not sitting down, you need to sit down, you‘re literally bleeding.« You argue back, trying to lead him to the bedroom.

»I‘m not sitting down, I need to get you safe— «

»I am safe.« You reassure him, seeing his hands tremble, eyes seem unfocused. Nothing really seems to help him calm down, grabbing his shoulders and forcing eye-contact.

After some more attempts of coaxing him into the bedroom, you can finally take care of him. He stands in front of the bed as you sit in front of him, patching up the few gashes along his torso.

Jason watches you the whole time, running his hand through some strands of hair occasionally. Yes, it does hurt as you bandage him up, but all he can focus on is you at the moment. Whole and safe, taking care of him finally.

He doesn‘t deserve you.

But he won‘t ever trade you for anyone else.

You don‘t need to talk once you get him all patched up and clean, both of you acting automatically once everything falls back to normal.

Jason crawls back in bed with you like this morning, carefully wrapping his arms around you, no matter how much it hurts his own body. Both tangled up in each other, comforting the other with sweet and grounding words. You are both safe now.

The small conversation paused, letting a comfortable silence fall over the room. After a few moments you speak up again, atmosphere getting lighter.

»I was dating the Red Hood all the time? For two years?«

He groans lightly, looking down at you in his arms.

»I‘m sorry, I… couldn‘t really tell you. But I wanted to, I really did.«

Jason apologises, his guilty expression pulling at your heart again.

»Wait, no, I‘m not mad. It‘s just… a nice surprise? I don‘t know, but I will buy endless Red Hood merch from now on. If you like it or not.«

You tell him with a small smile, making him pause before rolling his eyes. Of course. There‘s no way you would react badly. Especially after saving you.

a/n: WOW! really hoped you enjoyed it, i'm excited to hear your thoughts about it!!

← MASTERLIST

[written-in-flowers]

Her Mate: Demon!Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Incubi!Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Genre: smut, fluff, angst, MINORS DNI

Word Count: 9k

Summary: Seonghwa's "unconventional" upbringing gave him a strong sense of self-control. Yet, whenever he is near you, he finds himself weakening at the sight of his "mate".

Tags: polyamorous relationship, open relationship, m/m/m/f relationship, light dom/dub themes, implied childhood trauma, implied underage sex, mentions of bisexual sex, incest, office sex, oral sex (m. and f. receiving/giving), anal fingering, rimming, rimjob, vaginal fingering, rough oral sex, window sex, mind games (not on reader), implied dub-con (not with reader), foreplay, nipple play, breast play, tongue fucking (vaginal and anal), messy cum stuff, spitting, light spanking, self-lubrication, cum swallowing. Also, if you happen to know who Marquis de Sade is...um, yeah, he's mentioned too.

Pretty Lady Masterlist

Previously on Pretty Lady

Next >>

***

“And if I only could, I’d make a deal with God and I’d get him to swap our places. Be running up that road, be running up that hill, be running up that building with no problems…”

He found the song suitable for your voice. Seonghwa often thought you had the soprano range of the singer, which befit the genre and eras you loved so much. Of course, you could sing a bit higher but not by much. Yeosang begrudgingly admitted you had a nice singing voice, though could use improvement. Seonghwa disagreed. He enjoyed listening to you sing while you tended to your plants or danced around your room or dressed or undressed or any other time he caught you. You often became shy or awkward when you knew someone watched you, like the beautiful singing birds on the branches. So, whenever he caught wind of your voice, he quietly approached. 

Seonghwa found you in your bedroom, headphones on and head nodding to the music while you worked. He noticed small bags of dirt and fertilizer beside your desk and on the other side bags of various seeds. He knew you sometimes grew plants in your bedroom, turning it into a smaller version of a greenhouse, but they’re usually stuck to the walls or floors. This one sat in a small pot. Seonghwa leaned against your bedpost, brushing his fingers over the peonies on the footboard, while he enjoyed your singing. It was similar to watching an animal in its natural habitat. You looked at ease, unguarded and peaceful. He liked you this way. The slave he’d known always remained quiet, obedient in doing what she was told. The Lady of Eden spoke her mind often and even bit back. Seonghwa wondered if that was the real you. He imagined the ambitious, clever woman who managed to break the glass ceiling into power with her looks alone. Just because you didn’t go to college didn’t mean you weren’t intelligent. A woman owning her own scamming company needed a brain. 

“Oh come on, baby. Oh, come on, darling. Let me steal this moment from you now. Oh, come on angel. Come on, come on, darling. Let’s exchange the experience.”

“What are you up to, Kitten?” he asked, unable to call you anything else now. 

You jumped at his voice, laughing softly from the small rush. “Gaia showed me how to make hybrid plants,” you told him, removing the headphones. “I’ve been giving it a shot.”

Ever since your family decided to train you themselves, your powers have grown exponentially. Your mother told him you’d taken to your training like a fish to water. She said you had a talent for regrowing and strengthening your “children”. He did note how the greenhouse plants thrived underneath your care, much more than they did with him. Rhea mentioned your stable control. Whenever she purposefully ticked a nerve, no doors blew open or plants shooting to strangle anyone. Seonghwa was glad for this. He’d worried he’d be replacing broken doors for all eternity. 

“Come look,” you beckoned him over to your desk. When he reached you, he saw a tiny sprout in the plant. About the height of a pencil, it had arrowhead petals the color of opals with a center a blood red. The flower moved to “look” at him, and he heard it give the softest of coos. “I thought of making flowers that have gemstone colors,” you said. “I think they’d look beautiful. This one is supposed to be opals. I hope when it gets bigger, the petals shine like them too.”

“It’s gorgeous,” he said, putting an arm around your waist. “Is this the first one?”

“No,” you frowned. “The first two didn’t take or die right away. This one has lasted overnight, so I have high hopes for her.” 

You cupped the top of the flower, running your thumb over a petal. He saw how lovingly you looked at your creations. 

“Sometimes, I wish I was a plant,” he said without thinking. 

“What?” you looked over at him, amused.

“Then perhaps you’d look at me the way you look at them,” he said, gazing over your face. 

“I do,” you admitted, turning to him. “You’re just not looking at me when I do it. It kind of ruins the whole ‘looking-when-they’re-not-looking’ if you knew.” 

You slid your hands up his chest to his shoulders. Briefly, he thought back to the first time he’d seen you. The glowing firelight behind you illuminated your features, and caught itself in your hair. You shook with fear, but that quickly dissipated when he licked your center. Not because you’d fallen in love with him, but because you saw you weren’t going to “die”. You understood the benefits of being a duke’s pet. Being a slave to one of Asmodeus’s heirs came with more pros than cons. However, as time went on, he hoped your feelings might have changed. Perhaps you no longer see him as your ‘Master’, whom you must obey and fear, but as a partner. A lover. A ‘mate’, as his mother had said. Gently, he caressed your cheek as he studied your face. 

“Which you’re doing right now,” you giggled, breaking him free of his thoughts. 

“Forgive me,” he said. “I…I get caught up in my thoughts, sometimes.”

“Well, what were you thinking about?”

“How my mother called you my ‘mate’ the other day.”

“She’d said that?”

“You weren’t in the room. She’d said, ‘I heard you have a mate. What’s it like biting from the same apple as your brothers, Seonghwa?’”

“Ugh, she’s the worst. What did you say?”

“That you’re more of a peach than an apple,” he smirked, pecking your lips, “And that sharing you with people I love doesn’t bother me at all.”

“It doesn’t?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I love my brothers. I love them more than what is considered appropriate,” he huffed a laugh, “So sharing you with them doesn’t bother me. I take it that it doesn’t bother you either?”

“Not one bit,” you grinned, arms around his middle. “I’m a lucky girl.”

“Very,” he said, hands going up and down your back. The sweet honeyed scent he loved threatened to overpower his senses. “Would you want to be?”

“Be lucky? Yeah.”

“No,” he chuckled, “Be my…Be my mate.”

“Like a girlfriend?”

“Sure.” 

“I thought I was?” you looked up at him. “Did you think we weren’t?”

“I didn’t know what to think, if I am honest,” he admitted. “This all happened quite suddenly, and I haven’t had a moment to really think about it.” 

“You? Mr. Brooding didn’t have time to mull over something for hours?” you teased, making him smile rather than scowl. 

“I’ve been concerned with more important things lately,” he said. “Also, I…”

“Was scared that I wouldn’t feel the same way,” you finished for him. 

“Yes,” he breathed bashfully. 

“I do,” you said. “I can’t believe I do, but nobody has ever made me feel how you and the others do.” You played with the serpent stick pin on his tie. “The guys I dated before felt so shallow and meaningless. They left just as fast as they’d appeared. Most of them had wives or girlfriends too, whom they always chose over me, their ‘mistress’. I…” you stared at the golden pin, not wanting to meet his eyes as you spoke, “I meant nothing to them. I want to say they meant nothing to me, but that wasn’t always true. I did like some of them. But, I always knew it wouldn’t last. I had goals, and sometimes I gave up nice things for them. My life seems so hollow now that I look back at it. I had no one. Nobody stayed or wanted to stay.” He spotted tears glistening in your eyes and you turned away. 

“You have me,” he said, gently lifting your chin. “I want to stay, and I want you to stay. I feared you might decide to live in Eden after all, and leave me. Thoughts of never seeing your face or hearing your singing made me feel empty.” 

You smiled softly, tracing his sharp jaw down to his neck. “And I thought San was the romantic one.”

“I can be too,” he said, taking your hand to kiss your knuckles, “When the mood strikes me.” 

“You remind me of those guys in those sappy dime-store novels,” you said.

“Dime-store novels?”

“You know, the little books they sell in the magazine section that have those dramatic, idealized covers? You remind me of them. There’s always these long love confessions and romance scenes that lead into steamy sex right afterwards. She’ll be a woman running away from something or have a traumatizing past; he’ll always be the small town farmer or the shopkeeper or a lumberjack with a stern face but heart of gold. They find each other through various circumstances-it changes all the time- and end up falling in love despite the odds.”

He chuckled at your description, supposing it might be true. “You mean bodice-ripper romances?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you shrugged. “The girl is always swooning and the guy has his shirt open, and he’s super muscular. You remind me of them a little bit.”

“That I’m muscular and always have my shirt open? Sounds more like San to be fair.”

You giggled, “Because you’re the sexy bookish guy who pretends he’s not interested in the protagonist when really he is.” He let your fingers hook around his lapel to bring him in for a kiss. 

“Except I make my interest in you very known.”

He gave you a few brief kisses, wanting desperately to go further. Seonghwa knew the result of kissing you too deeply, and the temptation reached inside him the longer he stood in front of you.

“Don’t go,” you said, your lips against his. “Stay with me.”

“I have work to do.”

“Is it really that important?” you asked, hands going into his black curls. You gave him a few pecks, then said, “So important you’d leave me behind?” You placed his hand on your chest, urging him to fondle you. “I thought you loved me.”

“I do,” he said, giving it a gentle squeeze, “But unfortunately I do one of the most important jobs in Hell.” He gave you another kiss, controlling his lust for you. “You know I come back at lunch time.” He tugged at the bra strap exposed by your off-the-shoulder shirt, pulling it as far as it’d go. Seonghwa started a trail of kisses from your neck to where the strap stopped. “I never pass on a good dessert,” he said, pressing his lips to the top of your breast.

“I suppose waiting makes it better,” you huffed. “Should I wear your favorite when you come home?”

Seonghwa groaned softly, kissing up your neck. An image of you in his study, wearing a short pleated skirt, cropped top, and knee high socks filled his thoughts. But, responsibility came before pleasure.

“Yes,” he breathed, tempted to tug down your shirt and bra to kiss your nipples. “I’d love that.”

“I can put it on for you now,” you told him in his ear. “Would you like to watch me put it on?”

“I would if I could, Kitten,” he said, forcing himself away from temptation.

“Fine,” you frowned, fixing your shirt. “I’ll stay and wait for you to come back.”

Seonghwa, not wanting to leave you frowning, kissed you one more time as he slid his hand into your shorts. You weren’t wet, but he groaned at the heat on his fingers. You clutched his arm suddenly, stiffening at the hand slowly rubbing circles against your panties. Even if you’d started going around without them, you wore them for him. He liked it because pulling them off you felt more like unwrapping a present, your sweet sex being the gift.

“Jongho,” he called out, watching you slowly uncoil at his touch. He heard Jongho appear from nowhere.

“Yes, Master?”

Seonghwa knew the butler did everything he could not to notice what was happening. He smirked over at him, “Your mistress needs some attention, but sadly I must head to the office. Why don’t you lend her a hand?” He gently pulled down your shorts to reveal the soft, cotton panties underneath. “Where do you want it?”

“I want you right here,” you brought him to you, sitting on the desk while you pulled him between your legs. “Just a few licks at least? Your tongue is so much better.”

“You’ll have my tongue later,” he said, knuckles running up and down your slit. “For now, you can enjoy Jongho’s tongue. Don’t you like getting eaten out by him?”

“I love it,” you said, “But I want you, Master.”

“And you will have it,” he said more firmly, “Later.” He kissed your lips, then turned back around. “Jongho, come here.”

Jongho took his place in front of you. Seonghwa stood and watched as your most loyal servant kissed and fondled you. He knew he was a goner when you passionately kissed him, both your tongues sliding over lips and teeth like eels. Leaning against your bedpost once more, he observed as Jongho started sucking and kissing your nipples. His low groans matched yours as you withdrew him from his trousers. Only half hard, Seonghwa knew with a few more kisses and the right strokes, his cock would be throbbing madly. Soon, Jongho sank to his knees to kiss your center. You held onto the edge of your desk as he deepened it, sliding his tongue over your clothed sex and hands gripping your thighs. Your face scrunched up from pleasure, body shifting to grind to his face, you looked too good to pass up. He knew with a bit of persuasion, his brothers would’ve jumped at the chance, but Seonghwa didn’t.

“Would you like me to take them off, Mistress?” Jongho asked you, “Or simply move them aside?”

“Take them off,” you said, looking over at Seonghwa, “So our master can see your tongue on my clit.”

So he did. You lifted one leg onto the desk to give him a perfect view of your naked pussy. Seonghwa bit his inner cheek, knowing you’re doing everything in your power to bring him back over to you. Jongho stuck out his tongue and flicked it against your clitoris, languidly rolling it counter-clockwise. Seonghwa intently watched the servant tease your folds, wetting them with his tongue and your stickiness. He moved back over to you, but only to remove your shirt and tug down your bra. Seonghwa groped at one of them, pinching and teasing your nipple as Jongho licked your cunt.

“I don’t want him to put anything in you,” he instructed, licking his thumb to rub on your hard nipple. “He can only rub and lick your holes. He can touch and lick any of them, but his dick goes nowhere near them,” he said, looking down to see Jongho sucking your throbbing clit. “Do you know why, Kitten?”

“Because they’re your holes, Master,” you smiled, loving the dynamic between you, “And nobody fucks them but you.”

“That’s right. You’re such a good girl,” he said, moving to grope the other side, “I want you to come to my office at exactly eleven o’clock. There, you’re going to sit on my desk facing the windows, legs open, and patiently wait for me. If you’re not there and/or my holes aren’t presented for me when I get there, I’m going to punish you in my favorite way. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Repeat my order back to me.”

“You want me-me at your office at eleven o’clock, sitting on your desk facing the windows, and presenting your holes patiently. If I’m not there or your holes aren’t ready, you’ll punish me in your favorite way.”

“Good girl,” he gave you a soft kiss. “And, yes, wear my favorite outfit today. No panties. No bra. Just the top, the skirt and those knee-high socks I like.”

“May I-I cu-cum, sir?”

He considered it for a moment. It will be a while before he sees you, and it’d be wrong of him to leave it for so long. “Since you thought to ask, yes,” he nodded, “You may only cum twice. Any more and I punish you.” 

Perhaps he was one of your bodice-ripper characters after all. Jongho sped up his lapping tongue, having you tense in his grasp. He’d kill a slew of men to stay by your side, admiring you as Jongho pleasured you over and over again. Suddenly, he reminded himself of another man he’d grown up with. He’d prefer not to think about him.

He kissed you one last time, a promise of ‘later’ on his lips before he left. The walk from your bedroom to the front door gave him a minute to shake you off him. The warm air outside blew your scent off his clothes, and dried the kisses left on his skin. Everything in him told him to go back inside and ravage you the way you deserved, but he’d learned a long time ago that promises and time make it much better.

‘You make your prey wait. You let them dangle by their wrists, keep the blindfold over their eyes, and let the fear stew inside. By the time you return, the sound of your footsteps amplifies all the senses. If you break them well enough, they’ll grow hard or wet at the thought of you.’

Seonghwa stepped into his carriage, hearing the driver crack a whip to get it moving. Unlike San and Hongjoong, Seonghwa did not grow up in the mountains and hills of southern Korea. He’d been born in a small hanok in a village before being taken away to be raised elsewhere. His mother’s “children'' did not only serve her from her homeland. They served in all corners of the world and came from all walks of life. From the beggar on the streets of London to an advisor to an Egyptian pharaoh, his mother had many followers. She decreed Seonghwa would be raised as nobility, considering he’d be a Duke of Lust when he came of age. She first sent him to the French countryside to live with a witch who’d served her well. Amaline was a Duchess by marriage, having gained her position through black magic and love potions. She told his mother she’d train and educate the boy but only until she birthed a child of her own. Judging by her husband’s crazed obsession with her and their nightly passions, this did not take very long.

At five-years-old, Seonghwa then stayed with a peasant couple in Paris. Dominique and Fabien Bacque owned a very popular bakery in the city, where they forced Seonghwa to work. They believed since his mother never came around, they could get away with treating him like scum. They forced him to go by a “proper” name that was easier to pronounce. 

‘Announcing his lordship, Jean Baptiste Bacque, the filthiest, loathsome rat this side of France!’ Fabien often proclaimed in his dingy bakery, ale in his hand as he and his friends laughed. 

Fabien did not laugh for long, however. When his mother arrived to see him, her fury flared at his condition. Her son, a child of the great demon prince Asmodeus, wore rags and was filthier than a street rat. Her son, a Lord of Hell and Duke of Lust, could not read or write. He recalled the vicious hounds his mother set upon the couple. Seonghwa still remembered their screams as the demonic hellhounds tore them to pieces before his eyes.

Seonghwa, twelve-years-old and still growing, went to live in Paris with a nobleman his mother knew well. While Donatien didn’t serve his mother, the Marquis de Sade served his father faithfully since his late teens. Donatien was not only a nobleman, Seonghwa learned, but a writer, political activist and libertine. If anyone was fit to care and educate her son, it was Donatien. This is when his name changed again.

‘Baptiste is such a common name. From now on, you are Jean Hercule Francois, the new Viscount de Sade.’

Still young and new to the world, Seonghwa took to his new position much faster than Hongjoong did later on. Donatien saw his eagerness to learn, his passion for poetry and music, and let him indulge in things like sword fighting, horse riding, croquet, astrology, botany and science. Seonghwa grew up alongside Donatien’s other children, forging close bonds through their lifetimes. It was when Seonghwa turned fourteen that Donatien took him away to the countryside. In a lavish retreat outside of Paris, Donatien told his protege that he’d be taking over his education from then on. Seonghwa thought he meant language, philosophy, literature, swordplay and etiquette. While he’d been half-way right, Donatien taught him more than just that. 

“We’re here, my lord,” the driver said. 

“Thank you.” 

Seonghwa stepped out of the carriage and walked towards a tall building in the middle of a bustling intersection. On the fringes of the main gates, crowds of lost souls wandered in through the stone entrance, crossed a wide bridge, and right into the bowels of the tower. There, they’d be funneled into the long, winding halls of the lower cells where they’d be taken into rooms to be assessed. Seonghwa led a team of demons who had the same mind digging ability as him. Seonghwa reached the glass doors, withdrew his employee ID and swiped to gain entry. He bypassed coworkers on their way into work, making idle chatter in the elevators just to keep up appearances. But, his mind kept going back to his old mentor and guardian, Donatien. 

He started with simple drawings and sharing the pornography he wrote. Donatien taught Seonghwa all about the human anatomy from erogenous zones to the various acts people can do to achieve pleasure. He often brought prostitutes to the estate to perform demonstrations. Donatien would lie with them while Seonghwa watched through a hole in the wall. He explained all the new thoughts, curiosities and sensations his adolescent brain took in. Soon, Seonghwa was sitting beside the bed as Donatien engaged in sexual acts with both men and women. Then, Seonghwa moved to the bed, where his teacher taught him how to pleasure his partners. Donatien hosted full on orgies in his home just for his “son” to experiment and indulge in all sorts of acts. If it weren’t for his demon blood, Seonghwa is sure he would’ve contracted a disease.

When Seonghwa was sixteen, Donatien showed him what he’d done with the servant girls he’d hired to attend to his son.

“Good morrow, Seonghwa,” an elderly demon said as he walked by the elevator. “A fine day for digging, huh? Lots of fresh prisoners down in the dungeons today!”

“As there are every minute of every day, Lord Byron,” said Seonghwa good naturedly. “How are things in your section?”

“Wonderful,” he smiled. “Absolutely wonderful. Our numbers have gone up since that terrible war ended. I forget which one, but it’s one of the larger ones. Yours?”

“We’ve kept good numbers. Nothing to boast of by all means, but my team does their best with what we’ve gotten.”

“You’ll come up soon, son. You’re very talented for such a young demon.”

Seonghwa and Lord Byron talked on their way to sections four and six of the office floors. The pair split up, and Seonghwa walked through a door into a long hallway. 

Bondage. Sadism. Masochism. Using ropes, whips, chains, and canes to bring pain and pleasure to his partners became the primary focus of his teenage studies. They did not have the advanced sex toys of the modern age, but they had the basics. Seonghwa didn’t like the bloody, violent extremes Donatien took his partners to, but he enjoyed breaking them. Not only in body, but in the mind. He learned how to turn a servant girl from reluctant to desperate with more than slaps to the ass. He learned about his talent for mind digging during this time. It was easy to persuade and trick others when he knew their deepest, darkest desires. He often used it for personal gain or to have an advantage over a rival, but he enjoyed it most in his dungeon.

“Morning, Mr. Park,” said a young woman sitting at a desk beside his office door.

Seonghwa noticed how Mya’s tight button blouse and pencil skirt made her scarlet skin pop. Thin stockings covered her long legs, ending just beneath the hem of the skirt. Behind her thin rimmed glasses, bright orange eyes twinkled at him flirtatiously. A look to tantalize him. Seonghwa didn’t particularly care. Mya looked like every other succubus he’d met throughout his life. He honestly had trouble telling them apart sometimes. 

“Morning,” he said. “Mya, I have an important meeting at eleven o’clock, and I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Of course, sir,” she typed out the order in her computer, “The person’s name?”

“YN,” he told her. “You’ll know her when you see her, trust me.”

“Shall I cancel your appointment with your brother then?”

“Yes, go ahead. Hongjoong will understand.”

Hongjoong would do the same thing if it were him, and he’d understand. 

He remembered the day he’d come to get his little brother from his village in Korea. A scruffy boy with crimson hair hanging over defiant eyes, Hongjoong didn’t like the posh life Seonghwa lived for so long. He didn’t share the French people’s catholic views, he scowled at their abundance and wealth, and spat at their feet when they criticized him. Seonghwa did his best to educate and train his brother to be a gentleman, but Hongjoong was far from it. At fifteen, he was getting drunk and gambling with the scum of the city. He bedded whores of all kinds, and engrossed himself in depravity. Donatien took a liking to him right away and so did Seonghwa. He’d never known a boy to be so bold and brash; he’d never met someone who scowled at priests, spat at city guards, and laughed in the face of authority figures. It intrigued him. He’d started sharing his partners with Hongjoong, but it seemed his brother only desired one person.

“Put it in me, Hwa. I want us to be one,” he’d said, whining and squirming as Seonghwa jerked him off during a hunting trip. 

When Donatien went to prison for his lewd, lascivious behavior, which was illegal at the time, it became only them. Seonghwa and Hongjoong disappeared into their own world in that retreat. They were two demons who’d found each other in an ever-changing world. Neither of them had ever met another demon before, but everything they felt came so naturally. Him admiring Hongjoong’s narrow, upturned nose and soft lips as he slept felt as natural as watching the clouds drift by. They didn’t hide their love. They didn’t care if the church and the law spoke against it. Hongjoong and him shared a bond that nobody else understood. 

Seonghwa logged into his computer, where a photo came up on the screen. San. Sweet San who loved freely and often. In the picture, he sat lounging by a window laughing at a joke Hongjoong told. His smile lit up his face and squinted his eyes, a look that made people swoon. San came along much later with slicked back hair and a fancy suit. Unlike Hongjoong and Seonghwa who arrived in Hell when they came of age, San had died in the living world. He didn’t like mulling over the details, and he never pushed for details. All he knew was his brother died young and brutally. Fifteen, skinnier than a twig with lost puppy eyes, the pair brought him into their ancient home right away. Seonghwa trained him to be the proper gentleman Hongjoong refused to be. He’d decided while they might be Asmodeus’s sons, they would not be scoundrels. They would uphold the family name and image. Hongjoong struggled with that most days. 

San, on the other hand, was a golden boy. Not only physically attractive, and kind-hearted, he proved to be an athlete as well. His skill with weaponry remained unmatched in Seonghwa’s eyes. He’d seen sixteen-year-old San take down a full grown demon with quick, fluid movements. Some people found it hard to believe San was Asmodeus’s son with his skills. The skinny boy who’d come to his doorstep bloody and weeping turned into a golden god. Seonghwa and Hongjoong found it harder and harder to ignore his physical beauty as he grew. They’d taken to watching him bathe through peepholes or finding excuses to get him naked in front of them. Seonghwa never admitted he’d bought the hot tub as another way to admire his sweet brother’s body. 

“If you wanted to watch me jerk off, you could’ve just asked,” he’d said when he confronted them in the lounge one night. 

The three of them became inseparable. 

“Seonghwa,” the call came after three knocks on the door. An older demon with stark white hair and olive green skin stood in a tweed suit in the doorway. “How are you, old boy?”

“Wishing I’d stayed home,” he snorted with a laugh that the man joined. 

“After seeing that lovely mate of yours, I don’t blame you,” he said. “Urik’s called a department meeting. He says it’s urgent.”

“I’ll be there.”

The man disappeared, and Seonghwa thought about what he’d said. ‘Mate’. He’d heard many people refer to you with the primitive term. He thought about what you’d both talked about, and it made him fonder of you. 

He wished he’d given in to you. 

****

“Minos dares to say we have been misplacing prisoners.” 

“What does he mean by that? We are the ones who see into their misdeeds and only give suggestions.”

The meeting would never end. Seonghwa leaned back in the leather chair, eyes constantly glancing over to the clock on the wall. It’d be eleven in fifteen minutes. In fifteen minutes, he’d have you in his arms. In fifteen minutes, he’d be entirely consumed by you. But first, he must suffer the most boring part of his job: manager meetings. 

This could’ve been an email. 

“He believes we’re being too careless with our suggestions. He says a person who should’ve been sentenced to Wrath was instead sentenced to Pride.”

“Yes, because the prisoners carried out their misdeeds through their pride.”

He wondered if you’d cum at all. You must have. It’s been three hours since he left home. You’ve likely already used up your two free orgasms by now. Seonghwa liked imagining Jongho, drunk on your lips, pleasuring you as long as he physically could. He already knew you could go for hours with your heightened sexual appetite and stamina. Seonghwa thought of every time he laid with you and his brothers. With the natural lust of demons and the constant burning desire combined with your special kisses, the four of you made love almost nonstop. Once Seonghwa tasted one of you, he found it hard to stop. 

“But he claims the wrath outweighs the pride.”

He couldn’t wait to taste you. He might take off the entire day just to have you to himself. 

“Seonghwa, what do you make of these claims?”

He snapped out of his thoughts and looked up. At a long table in a conference room, Seonghwa sat with the heads of departments and his boss, a demon named Urik. The whole table turned when Urik addressed him. He must have appeared too in thought. 

“That Minos is being his usual stubborn, complicated self,” he answered, grasping at an answer. “For thousands of years, he’s made claims that we’re not working to his standards. He sits in his chair, passes judgment, and acts as if it’s our fault if the prisoner is sent back. The man takes no responsibility for his own faults.”

“As I have said,” claimed another demon, Lucinda. “We cannot take him so seriously, Urik. His mind is going and his judgment wanes.” 

Urik, broad and red, nodded with his hands clasped on the desk. “Regardless, Prince Belphegor has commanded all of us to undergo training courses-”

“-Training courses?” exclaimed Bazil, green and horned. “Uh-uh, I will not retake a bunch of baby courses because Minos has convinced the Prince of Sloth that we do not take our jobs seriously. I am extremely thorough with my digs, and give the most sensible, honest suggestions I can make.” 

“Regardless, it is The Prince’s command and we must abide by it,” said Urik. He picked up a stack of binders that he handed to Lucinda. Seonghwa watched them be passed around the table. “These are the recommended courses. It details everything from basic training to advanced digging techniques. I want you to relay this order to your teams, and make sure they are done by the weekend.”

“You’re not serious?” asked an elderly, pot-bellied demon named Arthur. “My team has been working all week on a new batch of prisoners. They can’t be expected to put that aside to work on this.”

“They will have to find the time,” said Urik.

Seonghwa opened the binder to study the different courses. It’d be like Minos, Judge of Souls, to lay blame on the sin seers. He wondered who’d placed you. Personally, he would’ve sent you to Greed rather than Lust. A good chunk of your actions were fueled by a desire for more: more money, more power, and more respect. It could be argued that you enjoyed the feeling of triumph and superiority over the actual material rewards. 

“Urik, you know how ridiculous this is,” said Lucinda.

He then thought of your behavior this morning. You’d ensnared him with your charms and pouting, and he almost gave into it. You loved how sex made you feel, and not only the physical reactions either. It makes you feel desirable. It gave you the power others tried having over you. He knew he was powerless against your charms. Seonghwa could still smell your essence in his nose, driving him back into those desires again. If you’d lived in his time, he’d never want anyone but you and Hongjoong ever again. 

“I understand your frustration, but we cannot ignore a royal command,” said Urik. “I want all courses finished by Friday. You're dismissed.”

The group groaned and left the table. Seonghwa knew his own team wouldn't like the extra workload. They worked exclusively in the 4th and 5th sectors of Limbo, where souls are determined before being sent to Minos for final judgment. Seonghwa heard his department only existed because of Minos's constant deaths and rebirths. He pictured the aged god sitting upon a golden throne, nearly blind and half-mad. Members of his team already complained that he sent too many people back, and that he didn't know one day from the next. When Seonghwa tells them about Belphegor's command, they'll be upset for sure. 

Walking through the busy office, Seonghwa went to the elevator and punched in his floor number. His mind floated back to you, and wondering what you might be doing. He liked the idea of Jongho still in your bed, the both of you pleasuring one another every way possible. However, realistically, you would’ve stopped by now. He hoped Jongho hadn’t tired you out too much. Seonghwa didn’t want you to perform if you didn’t feel up to doing it. 

“The nerve of him, huh?” Lucinda entered the elevator after him, irritated. “I can't wait until the bastard croakes. Then Urik takes over while he’s gone.”

“It can't be long now,” said Seonghwa. His body buzzed with anticipation. In several minutes, he’ll be finding you on his desk wet and needy. He hoped, at least. “He already can't stand up.” Your pussy is so pretty when in the light, especially when wet.  

“Too bad he doesn't have the cane yet. I'd have a laugh knocking it out from under him.” The two shared a half-hearted laugh, then she said, “I saw your mate the other day.”

“Huh?”

“Your mate,” she repeated. “The Princess Lilith’s granddaughter. She's an absolute gem. I ran into her at the hardware place buying more gardening supplies. She's such a delight. You must bring her to the office party this year.”

“I wouldn't dream of taking anyone else.”

There was that word again: ‘Mate’. It had him thinking about it again. 

“But, I suppose you call her your ‘girlfriend’. All you young people use that word now.”

“It means the same thing,” they got off on the floor together. “They're interchangeable.”

“Barely,” she replied. “Girlfriend sounds so informal and distant. Mate,” she grinned fondly, “That one sounds much deeper.” 

“I suppose.”

Lucinda had a point. He thought about it as they parted ways. The word ‘girlfriend’ implied some kind of distance between the both of you. ‘Mate’ carried a sense of closeness: it meant a deep connection that others couldn’t explain. He liked the idea of you possibly being “The One”. His father never expected him to marry, and his mother's opinion didn't matter at all. Yet, the idea of you with his last name did not sound so bad. 

The tortured cries and pleas of the prisoners pulled him from his thoughts. Walking into a long hallway, he could hear his coworkers and their prisoners behind the doors. It became white noise at this point. He knew behind the steel doors, dozens of sinners fresh from the gates laid strapped to tables as a demon burrowed into their minds. Piece by piece, the demon pulled back the layers to see right into their soul. Seonghwa understood it to be an excruciating process to undergo. He’d seen it in the faces of those in his chair; he took in how they screamed and begged for mercy. He only laughed. Mercy? In Hell? Ridiculous.

The excitement fueled the arousal slowly rising inside him. Behind the door, he assumed, you’d be sitting on his desk with your legs apart for him. He turned the knob slowly and looked inside.

As he hoped, you sat propped up on your hands with your back to the door. By the way your feet were placed on the edge, he knew anyone who might be looking out the windows will see you splay out for them. You’d put on the outfit he requested, kindling his hardon. He closed and locked the door and walked over to you.

“There’s my sweet kitten,” he said, moving around the desk to you. “Oh, don’t you make a delicious sight?”

No panties, as requested, your smooth sex glistened in the sunlight coming from the wide windows. Without your bra, the shirt accentuated the natural curves of your breasts and the peaks of your nipples. You bit back your lip when he slid his hand from your knee to your inner thigh. He gave it a small squeeze as he stood in front of you. Seonghwa took a moment to caress and massage them in their bent position. You trembled each time his thumbs pressed to the sides of your sex before pulling back. His hands left your thighs for your sides, running up the dips of your waist to the bottoms of your breasts. He couldn’t stop himself from grazing your nipples through the shirt. He looked at your reactions while he lightly teased them. 

Eyes heavy with need and lust, you bit your lower lip to keep your moans from coming out. He saw the way your body slightly twitched whenever he touched your lower stomach, moving dangerously close to the bent position of your body. He sailed up your arms, moving up your shoulders to your neck where he pulled you in for a gentle kiss. There, he licked and tugged at your bottom lip with great risk to his own stability. He unfolded you from your position, letting your legs hang from the desk as his arms went around you. Being this close to you, surrounded by your sweet scent and feeling your soft skin made him understand what Lucinda meant. A mate is a partner for life. A mate is someone who's just as much a part of you as you are of them. Seonghwa slid a hand up the nape of your neck, touching your scalp and giving the roots a tender tug to keep you in place. As much as he loved his brothers, he found himself falling deeper in love with you.

Neither of you said anything as he removed your top, putting it to the side and giving him access to your naked chest.

“Undress me,” he said between kisses. “I want to feel your skin on mine.”

You started with his tie, removing the expensive gold pin and putting it on the desk. Heat flared in the middle of your passionate kisses. Seonghwa wanted to throw you onto the desk and pound you into the wood. Yet, he controlled himself. Donatien taught him all about self-control and restraint. He learned never to hasten the act. Drawing it out and letting it slowly simmer over time added to the bliss of the orgasm later. Seonghwa exhaled deeply once you unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders as you explored his torso. Your hands ignited him. Your delicate fingers traced the lines of his abdomen, sliding up them to his broad chest where your thumbs brushed his nipples. He shut his eyes to savor your lips dotting his neck and chest. He took in the softness sucking on the base of his neck; it was enough to bring a bit of pain before licking. The center of his pants grew tighter and more restrictive as his cock hardened. The feeling of your bodies brushing his stoked that further. He groaned when you nipped your teeth at his nipple, causing him to bring you to kiss him again. This didn’t stop you from pinching it instead. 

“How long?” he asked in a raspy breath, unable to stop kissing you.

“Not too long,” you answered.

“Did you cum at all?”

“Once. I wanted to save the other ones for you.”

He groaned after hearing this. Making a trail of kisses to your breasts, he took one nipple in his mouth. You started undoing his belt and the fly of his pants, whining at the slightest suggestion of his cock close to your hands. Your nipple hardly moved as his tongue flicked and rolled around it. The wrinkled areola tightened up to the pert tips, which he suckled softly before giving it a tender nibble. A low hum left him once you tugged down his pants, leaving his underwear on for the moment. 

“What else did you two do?” he asked, switching sides to repeat the action.

“I licked and stroked him back,” you said, grabbing him through his underwear. “I used my strap on him.”

“You did?” the picture he created pushed his hand between your thighs. 

“You said he couldn’t fuck my holes. You didn’t say I couldn’t fuck his.”

He chuckled through his teeth, giving your nipple another bite that made you jump. “Clever,” he groaned with one more suckle before gently laying you on the desk. “I bet he loved every second of it.”

“He did,” you said, straightening yourself on it. “Since he asked me to fuck him a few more times. I wish you’d been there too. Then you could’ve fucked me while I fucked him.”

“There’s always time for that,” he said, kissing down to the waistband of your skirt. “Right now, I want you to myself.”

He took a seat at the desk, and raised your skirt up to your stomach. Being close to your sex this way made him salivate. Your velvety folds showed small glimmers of your arousal, while your clit remained hard underneath its hood. Pulling at the top, Seonghwa stretched it upwards before giving it a gentle lick. You gripped at the bunched fabric of your skirt, ready for the waves of pleasure you’d soon be feeling. He loved knowing you anticipated it. He loved knowing how his tongue and fingers drove you over the edge over and over. It was like the prostitutes who used to come through his home: he’d be relentless and merciless when it came to that special place inside them. It made him feel powerful. It gave him control over them. 

He kept your pussy in this position as he lapped at it at a measured pace. You whimpered and cried out each time he swirled his tongue around your clit, jerking when he zigzagged over it right after. He licked down to your entrance, where more fluids leaked out when he dipped his tongue into it. The rim of your entrance opened easily at the tip sticking inside, your bumpy ridged walls nearly pulling at it each time he pushed inwards. He couldn’t get enough of your sweet taste. He’d choose your pussy over the finest meal Cook could make for him anytime.

You cried out when his fingers replaced his tongue. He’d seen loads of pussy in his life, but none as nice as yours. Perhaps it’s because he loved you, so he admired yours the most. Maybe your pussy really is the best he’s ever seen. Either way, he lazily traced the swollen lips with his tongue, barely grazing the aching clit and entrance. He dipped his fingers to the second knuckle to hear you mutter a curse under your breath. Seonghwa grew harder the longer he played with your sex. He rolled his fingers side to side over the nub of your clit; he drooled onto it to slicken the soaked puffy lips. You started playing with your breasts, needing more pleasure on top of what he’d given you, and he didn’t stop you. 

“You’re always so tight for me, Kitten,” he groaned when he slipped two fingers in sideways, watching your hole stretch to accommodate them. “Do you keep it that way for me?”

You nodded, “I don’t use toys or fingers when I touch myself. I only rub it so I keep your holes stay extra tight for you.”

He moaned internally when you said ‘your holes’ instead of ‘my holes’. The thought of owning you even without your collar made him harder. He fingered you slowly, watching his long fingers gleam with your juices. “How thoughtful,” he said, spitting on your clit again to spread it around. “All of my holes?” he asked, standing to push his wet fingers into your mouth. “Even your ass?” you only nodded while you sucked your juices from his fingers. “Let me see it then. Roll over for me.”

You stopped sucking fingers and shifted around until you were on your stomach. The anticipation made you grind into the edge of his desk, legs automatically spreading to give him more access to you. He dragged his hand up the backs of your thighs to then squeeze the bottom curves of your ass. When he gave one side a light tap, you twitched. Seonghwa continued doing this, keeping the slaps light and tender. He groped one cheek, seeing the fatty flesh knead like dough to his hand. Lifting and spreading them apart, he groaned seeing both entrances exposed to him now.  Your ass hole, clenched closed and hairless, fluttered when he slipped his tongue from perineum to the crack of your bottom. You trembled, but forced yourself to remain still. His tongue circling the rim of your ass, the other went back to caressing your dripping sex. You moaned when both digits stroked against your taut walls.

“Did Jongho lick you here, Kitten?” he asked, sliding over the rim of your hole while pushing two fingers deep inside you.

“Ye-yes,” you whimpered.

“Did he fuck you here?”

“No.”

“Good girl,” he praised, flicking at it the way you enjoyed. He knew just the vulgarity of the act aroused you. “I’m putting a plug in you the next time I take you out,” he promised, stopping to watch your pussy stretch around his fingers. “Just so I can watch you squirm from it being up inside you while you sit. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” you said, “Yes, so much.”

He chuckled, “Dirty slut. You’d do just about anything, huh? There’s nothing off limits for you, is there?”

“Hardly.”

He gave your ass a light tap before sticking his tongue into your ass in time with his fingers. It was then he noticed it. Your ass grew just as wet as your pussy. He knew his servants’ backsides self-lubricated when stimulated, but yours never had. Perhaps it did and he didn’t notice with the lubricant and saliva applied beforehand. It tasted just as good. Seonghwa’s cock twitched against his stomach realizing that your body truly was made for fucking. You were a beautiful half-succubus with a gorgeous body that carried the endurance and stamina to keep up with the appetite of a full-blooded demon. It made him want you more.

“Master,” you breathed, clutching the edge of the desk as his fingers continued penetrating and circling your insides, “Please don’t stop. That feels so good.”

“I know it does,” he pushed both fingers in deep, watching your legs kick up as he wriggled his fingers in your pussy. “There’s nothing my kitten loves more than having both holes filled at the same time.” He kept pulling them in and out, listening to you become a whimpering mess in front of him. “It’s a shame I wasn’t blessed with two cocks,” he said, withdrawing them to go back to rubbing. “Then I can fuck these at the same time.” Still fingering your sex, he bent down to flick his tongue on your ass hole. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful, Kitten?” he asked, listening to you moan at his warm tongue. “Wouldn’t you like me having two dicks for you to play with?”

“God, yes. Oh fuck, that’d be a dream.” 

“I happen to know people who do,” he sneered, standing up from his chair. “They’d love to meet you,” he slapped your ass again before finally pulling his dick out. He let it rest on your ass, groaning at the contact and how large he looked in comparison. “You’d have no problem taking both if you can take mine,” he said, spitting on his tip to rub it over your leaking hole. 

The sudden touch made you twitch and kick a leg up. Sensitive too. He loved that about you. The image of you taking more than one always excited him. He slid his head down to your pussy, rubbing his throbbing tip on it in slow circles.

“Master,” you whined, “Put it inside me, please. I need it so bad, please.”

“Is that right?”

In all honesty, he tortured himself as much as he did you. As he sunk up to the head, he hissed through his teeth. Your heat tried pulling him further, with your hips pushing back into his before he held you in place.

“I asked you a question, Kitten,” he said, “Is that right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“How badly do you need it?” he withdrew to rub himself against your clit.

“Really, really, really bad.”

“Show me,” he said, removing his hands from your waist and lining himself up with you. He brushed the very tip of himself to you, “Show me how bad you’ve been wanting it.”

Your lack of hesitation amused him. Instant satisfaction came when you sunk your aching cunt onto his cock. His dick sliding in and out, filling and stretching you while you bounced against his hips became a mesmerizing sight. You kept your hands flat on the desk, legs further apart as you backed up against him as much as you could. Each time his tip reached your g-spot, he felt you grip him tighter. The tight sensation started in his balls, threatening to rise up to the base of his cock where his dick suddenly became sensitive. Pulling your buttocks apart, he spat onto your ass and started rubbing it. Slick, clear fluid lubricated your hole enough for him to slide two fingers inside. Neither pushing or pulling, he kept his fingers knuckle deep as a toy might. This had you grinding and rocking up to his balls, enjoying the whirl of sensations he created for you.

Soon enough, Seonghwa saw you clawing his desk and shuddering as your orgasm approached. This urged him to hold you by the hip and start thrusting with the same speed as before. The sound of his balls slapping your throbbing clit and your ass hitting his hips brought you right to the brink.

“May I cum, Ma-M-Master?” you whined.

“Yes, you may, Kitten.”

With a few more thrusts, your entire body stiffened at the climax. Thighs shaking, hips desperately meeting his own, your back arched as you moaned freely. He felt your pussy thickly coat him in your cum, making a sticky mess over his balls in the process. Seonghwa kept going even when your orgasm started subsiding.

“On your knees,” he ordered, taking in deep breaths as he pulled out. “I’m going to cum down your pretty throat.”

Immediately, you got into position and opened your mouth. Hands holding you by the hair, Seonghwa shoved himself inside your mouth. The back of your throat squeezed and hummed around his tip, causing him to hold you there for several seconds at a time. His orgasm finally arrived when you cupped and rubbed his ballsack. Your warm hand smearing your cum over each sensitive side had Seonghwa burying his dick deep. Spurts of thick cum squirted into your mouth, and you did your best to swallow them quickly. His dick became incredibly tender to your soft lips and tongue, twitching as each stroke brought out more cum for you to taste. When he pulled out, you spat what remained in your mouth back onto his tip to stroke him with it. He watched in amazement, panting as his body relaxed, as you licked and sucked every drop you could.

“I want you to keep sucking it,” he said, slapping his dick onto your tongue. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He sat back in his chair as you continued sucking his cock. Seonghwa’s first orgasm didn’t soften him at all. It would take a bit more than that to satisfy him. Since you barely took him out of your mouth, the combination of spit, cum and precum created a creamy substance that leaked around your lips. You used it to jerk him off in tandem with your mouth. He could tell you wanted him to give you more. He noticed the hand you’d put between your legs and it excited him.

“Does sucking me off turn you on, baby?” he asked, stuffing himself into your throat before you could answer. He chuckled softly when you nodded, bobbing your head up and down but never taking him out completely. “Enough to cum while you’re doing it?” he smiled at your eager moans, and realized how you lightly and rapidly brushed your clit. “I want you to do that for me,” he said, starting to guide your head on his dick, “I want my slut to cum while I’m fucking her mouth. I’d love that more than anything.”

Your obedience astounded him. He loved your duality. With Jongho, you’re a dominating mistress who keeps him on edge for hours. With him, you’re a submissive eager to serve. Seonghwa’s jaw fell, realizing you’d kept yourself on the edge of another orgasm the entire time. He saw it in quaking shoulders and high muffled moans. He held you in place again as he took control, eager to make you cum from oral alone. In a few more thrusts, you began trembling and moaning around his girth. Even through the gagging and choking, he knew your orgasm when he saw it. You wriggled around on the floor, unable to get a hold on yourself as you came on your hand. When you finished, Seonghwa pulled out and brought you onto his lap. By your hips, he started pushing into your tight walls once more.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned, hearing the slick sounds of your cum mixing with his own inside you. “You’re such a good whore,” he said, not holding back with his thrusts. “A good whore that’s going to keep making me cum until I say so.” 

“Because your dick is so good, Master,” you said in his ear, holding onto his shoulders until your nails dug into his skin. “It’s big and thick and-a-and you fuck me so good and for so long. Please, keep fucking me. Make my pussy your cocksleeve to-to use whene-ever you want.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he growled, getting closer to another orgasm, the oversensitivity starting to hit him down to his toes. “I will.”

“Do it. Do it, please.” 

He wrapped his arms around you, smacking and grabbing your ass as you rode him in his chair. He teased and fingered your ass to his heart’s content before he felt his next climax approaching. You kept riding, not breaking or faltering, and moaned when more hot cum sprayed over your insides. Seonghwa’s head fell back as his body arched to the overwhelming sensations taking over. Every part of him became sensitive to the touch, adding and pushing his orgasm to a boiling point. Even as he started coming down, you kept going. It seemed neither of you could stop. Your bodies became too accustomed to the pleasure, and you found yourselves addicted to it.

But all good things must come to an end. After bringing each other to a third and final orgasm on the floor, Seonghwa pulled out and fell onto the carpet beside you. Neither of you spoke for a long while. Every muscle in his body softened into jelly, and he knew he’d be laying there far past his lunch time. Strangely enough, this was his favorite part. The content, euphoric feeling in a post-orgasm glow was better than any wine or drug he could take. It felt better when it happened to be with someone he loved.

“Come home with me,” you said hoarsely under a whisper. Too much talking often aggravates your itchy throat. “Please?”

“Will you be my mate?” he asked, ignoring your plea. 

You didn’t answer right away, which brought on a pang of dread. He thought of what you said, and feared it might’ve been to lure him into sex with you. But then he felt your fingers slide between his as you spoke. 

“Yes.”

The two of you wiped each other’s mouth with your discarded clothes, and shared a soft kiss. He’d found another mate to join his brothers, and he’d never let you go now. 

***

A/N: awww some fluffy stuff after all the sad stuff <3 I really appreciate all the love you guys are giving this fic. It's really great. Like and reblog as always <3

[inkblot22]

Give You Something To Cry About

Yay, my time management skills continue to be straight ass. Sorry to the anon who has waited so patiently for this, and thank you so much for giving me an excuse to write this depraved ball of snot. Headers by @/cafekitsune. Also don't believe everything you see on the internet, there's no scientific proof that certain things work for your skin. I think Vil would know that, considering.

This Fic Is For: Anyone who can handle it! Once again, I tried to make it as gn as possible, considering Rook's use of Franglais, but I'm delusional and will say I did exactly that. Reader is referred to with they/them pronouns, and no real allusions to specific body parts are made for them.

TW for DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT, forced dieting, non/dubcon, mentions of death, questionable use of magic, captivity, someone has a case of dacryphilia and a strong sadist streak, won't say who, Rook Hunt because he freaks me out, unhealthy relationship dynamics, abuse, forced BDSM if you squint, I feel so bad for the reader in this one, toxic relationships, possibly OOC characters.

“I am not going to tell you again, my love.” Vil bends down to get in your face, already wearing his ceremonial robe and heels. He points a finger in your face, like you’re a small child or a dog, “If you continue to pick at your skin, I am going to let Rook punish you this time.”

You swallow and look away, and Vil pinches your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pulling your head so you’re looking at him again. His violet eyes bore into you, and you swallow again.

He looks offended, almost, “Well? Have you forgotten basic manners? Speak.”

Your voice sounds dry and weak, “Yes, Vil. I understand.”

He seems satisfied enough with that, moving around as he continues to prepare for whatever school-wide assembly is happening today. He elegantly tucks his hair behind his ear and sighs, scrolling through some page on his phone.

You remain standing where you are, turning your head to look out the window. It’s so pretty outside, but you only get to leave this room whenever Rook is watching you or Vil sends you on an errand. It’s always spring, never too hot, never too cold, but you’re sweating anyway.

Vil approaches you again and tilts your face back so you’re looking at him with a hand on your cheek. His eyes narrow a fraction.

“Your skin doesn’t seem to like this foundation. Make sure you discard it today; I’ll get you a new one.” He bends down again, this time to press a chaste kiss to your lips. He rubs his own together after pulling away and smudges his thumb over your bottom lip, “Hmm. What lipgloss is this?”

Your voice doesn’t sound so dry, but it still doesn’t sound like you, “Uh… The dark red one with the metallic purple? ‘Electric Berry’?

He’s silent for a second, just staring down at your lips as he cups your chin, and then he sighs and turns away, “It’s sticky. I’d tell you to wash your face and reapply your makeup, but that’d be a waste. Make sure you put on lip balm next time.”

You swallow, “Yes, Vil. I understand.”

“I have to get going now. You’d better be at least halfway done with that list by the time I return.” He breezes towards the door and gives you a last, long look. He’s completely silent before he leaves, closing the door behind him.

Your palms ache. You stiltedly wander towards the list pinned in the closet, glad to see it’s not insane today. All you need to do is tidy the bathroom and skim through Vil’s mail to see if it’s anything but hate mail or advertisements. Tack on getting rid of that foundation and that’s it, at least until he returns at lunch.

You relished this time to yourself, even if it was just cleaning or whatever else. Vil always said that motion is good for you, a structure does the mind good. You didn’t care much anymore. As you sat down to search through his mail, finding nothing but the usual hate mail and what appears to be a poem from Rook (why did he even mail that? He’s not even down the hall from this room,) you catch yourself craving something sweet.

The diet Vil has you on sucks. He has assured you that your body is lovely, and he is having you eat like this to help clear your skin, but really you just want something. Anything, you’d even take a breath mint over this lack of junk food. You’re young, what young person doesn’t enjoy gratuitously unhealthy food? A basket of french fries? Ice cream? 

You frown to yourself and toss the last of the mail into the recycle bin. You know he’s just going to check it over again anyway, but at least you’re moving around. That’s what he would say.

By the time you’re almost done scrubbing the tub, you hear the door open. You don’t want to go greet him, so you pretend you didn’t hear anything and keep cleaning, making sure to disinfect the non-slip mat that resembles a bunch of ugly gems glued together. 

You hear him clicking towards you, and his hand rests on your shoulder, “Going above and beyond today? I have lunch, come eat.”

You school your expression and stand up, pulling off your cleaning gloves and hanging them on the rim of the tub before you follow Vil. He ensconces himself in his desk chair, leaving you to awkwardly lift the stool near his vanity. He hates it when you push the furniture.

He clucks his tongue, not even looking at you, “Lift with your knees, darling. As much as I’d love to massage your back if you pull something, I simply don’t have the time.”

You can’t help it. You shoot him the nastiest glare you can muster as you lift with your knees, right as his eyes flick up to meet yours. You nearly drop the chair as his lips curl into a cold smirk.

“Do you have something to say?”

You hastily shake your head, “No, Vil-”

“Then don’t allow me to see that expression on your face again.” He bites, “Come sit down.”

You put the stool down a little harder than you mean to and take a seat beside Vil at his desk. He passes you your nice little container containing one of several things he gets you- a pile of leafy greens and chopped veggies on a bed of quinoa, fresh fruit, and a murky green smoothie topped with chia seeds.

 You don’t like chia seeds. They remind you of frog eggs- a bunch of slimy lumps, sliding down your throat. You accept the straw Vil passes to you and stir the smoothie before eating in silence.

Vil doesn’t mind if you don’t thank him for feeding you. Since he’s keeping you here, it’s pretty much the least he could do. Still, it doesn’t make up for hearing about his boring day.

“This morning’s assembly was complete and utter chaos, as usual.” He muses, sipping his own smoothie. It’s a soft purple. “It’s ridiculous. Those brutes never wear their robes correctly.”

You don’t respond. There’s two reasons: first of all, you don’t care, and secondly, there’s a knock at the door. Vil hums, as though he’s been waiting for someone, and turns to face the door.

“Who is it?”

That boisterous voice you are so used to hearing echoes past the door, “‘Tis I, Roi du Poison. I have come to join you for lunch.”

You can hear the smile in Vil’s voice, “Oh, of course. Come in.”

As Rook walks in, you feel a stab of jealousy in your chest. He takes a breezy seat on the loveseat in front of Vil’s bed and glances at you. You break eye contact and dully pick at your salad.

Vil treats Rook so nicely. He considers his feelings and opinions, although he doesn’t always listen. He speaks to him as though he’s a person. You suppose Vil’s obvious care for Rook trickles down to you in some capacity, but it hurts. Vil claims that the two of you are lovers, but really you’re more like a doll.

“Do you mind meeting me in the lab later on, Rook?”

Rook chuckles from where he is and you cast another glance at him. His eyes meet yours, again, and you look away, again.

“I can always make time for you, beautiful Vil.”

You lamely pick at the fruit, having finished the salad, before you decide to save it for last. You take a sip of your smoothie after stirring it again and openly recoil, trying not to cough. You didn’t smell it, but there must be ginger in there, because there’s a mellow burn alongside the bitterness from the kale. It makes your eyes water and settles in behind your nose.

“Mmm. Something wrong?” Vil smiles at you.

You shake your head, blinking rapidly so you don’t start crying. There’s not enough tears to fall, but taking your chances is stupid, “No, Vil. The ginger just caught me off guard.”

“Oh. My apologies, I should have warned you. I don’t want you catching a cold, and you’ve been a little irregular. The smoothie also has spinach, kale, avocado, chia seeds, and, of course, a little mango.”

You nod and force yourself to smile, taking another sip and soldiering past the rush of that aromatic pain in your sinuses. “Oh, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, darling.” Vil turns away from you to speak to Rook again, “What else did you have planned?”

“I thought I might take a walk. It is a wonderful day, non?” There’s a slight mocking tone to Rook’s voice, “Hardly the type of day to be cooped up all day, hmm?”

Vil furrows his eyebrows as you choke down the last of the smoothie. His voice is curt, “You can say what you mean.”

“Est-ce que je peux? You are not very open to suggestion.”

Vil narrows his eyes at Rook, taking a deep sip of his smoothie before he places it on the coaster sitting upon his desk. He uncrosses his long legs and stands, walking over to sit with Rook on the loveseat. Rook watches him approach with a smile, the same pleasant one he usually wears before he shoots you a beaming grin and turns to look at Vil.

Their conversation is hushed, and you can’t really make out all of what they say. You can hear someone say your name, Vil’s tone swiftly turns vitriolic, then sweetens once more, and Rook chuckles under his breath. When their little meeting is over, Vil walks back over and finishes his smoothie before petting your head like you’re some kind of cat.

His hand strokes the crown of your head, then smooths over your cheek, he cups your jaw and thumbs over the swell of your lip, all while staring at you with a look you cannot read. And then he tilts his head, and smiles.

“Make sure you thank Rook. And you mistook a letter from my father as garbage.”

“Yes, Vil.” You reply obediently, “Sorry, Vil.”

He smiles. Your palms ache, and you have to bite back the urge to move, to peel at your cuticles or scratch the sides of your fingers.

“I’ll see you in class, Rook.” Vil says politely before he tilts your face up and pecks you on the lips.

You’re left alone with Rook. He doesn’t get up, not yet. You remain where you are, looking at your slippers. You hear Rook stand up and discard his garbage. You can feel him come up to stand behind you. 

“Has today been particulièrement difficile? My poor dear… You seem so sad today.” His arms wrap around you, looping them around your shoulders so they warm your collarbones like a scarf and he can rest his cheek against the back of your head. You hear him take a deep breath in.

With Vil, you don’t even try to speak anymore. You know he won’t really listen to you, because he knows better than you… But with Rook, as long as you wait a moment to make sure he is done speaking, he welcomes and even encourages you to speak your mind.

Your breath hitches and you swallow, “Uh, I mean… I guess I’m just having a bad day. It’s really been the same as usual.”

“Hmm.” Rook hums, completely devoid of emotion. You feel him turn his face so his nose is buried in your hair. He presses a kiss against your hair and sighs, “Ah, yes, the monotony of life is très épuisant, mmm?”

You wait for a second, then deliberately don’t answer the question in favor of asking your own, “Um, he said I should thank you?”

“Perhaps you should ask why more clearly. I have convinced our very own Vil to allow me to arrange a surprise for you.” Rook removes himself from your back and turns you around to face him, “And thus, I believe I have earned a kiss from you.”

“Wait, what?” You don’t get time to really back away or tell him to explain, as Rook squishes your cheeks with one of his gloved hands until your lips part.

His grip isn’t as harsh as Vil’s, but this is still something that only happens when you’re in more trouble than usual, so you involuntarily wince and close your eyes, cowering away from Rook as he dips his tongue into your mouth and slithers it between your teeth.

It is very easy to like Rook. He is passionate, and he’s far more kind to you than your supposed lover is. He’s intelligent and has an adonis-like form, and if not for the taste of blood on his tongue from whatever he ate for lunch or the grip he has on your face, maybe you would enjoy this kiss. But the big issue is that Rook honestly frightens you a little.

It’s absolutely not his fault, not entirely. Upon first meeting him, it was hard to tell if he was being genuine. He’s difficult to read, as he is often wearing the same set of expressions and his tone is always a bit melodramatic.

His hand releases your face to clamp around the base of your head, his tongue twisting in your mouth, pressing against the crevices in your teeth.

Not only is Rook hard to read, he is also uncannily observant and will not hesitate to ask somewhat invasive questions about his observations. The fact that he dresses in a way that conceals his mass is also disconcerting, as you were unaware that he had such a build until you saw him roll up his sleeve one time. You were aware Vil could do a lot of damage, but that was the day you realized that Rook was capable of doing about as much as Vil, if not more.

He purrs into your mouth, the vibrations feeling oh-so-wrong, and his other hand clamps down on your shoulder. He sucks your tongue into his mouth. It’s not a good feeling, as he is literally stealing what little air is in your mouth. When you feel something feather light flutter against your lashes and cheek, you feel a bit confused for just a moment, not even a second, before you realize that Rook just blinked. His eyes are open. 

He pulls away and sighs, almost dreamily. You suppress your distressed sputtering, holding your breath as Rook stares at you.

“Ah, enough time has passed. I will need to leave you, mon lapin. Thank you for indulging me; your kiss was divine and tasted sweeter than the finest fruits!” He presses something into your palm and adjusts his hat before he casts you a wave and shuts the door.

You stand there, your lips drying out from the saliva left on them and your cheeks feeling a little odd from the way he was holding your face. You’re processing, because, ever as always, Rook is simulated spontaneity. So many things just happened, and you don’t… 

You blink a few times and look down at your aching palm stupidly. The crimson cellophane crinkles as you unclench your fist. He gave you a piece of candy.

Just looking at it makes you start crying. One second you’re staring wide-eyed at the little lump of sugar, and the next your vision is blurring and you’re crying off your makeup, plump tears cascading down your face. Your nose begins to run and you sniffle. You can’t find it in yourself to sob, because you’re mostly certain that these are happy tears. 

Unfortunately, you can’t eat the candy now. If you threw the wrapper away, Vil would notice it in the garbage and you’d get in trouble for “breaking your diet plan.” So you hide it in the very back corner of the drawer of Vil’s armoire. You’ll be tidying it on your own anyway, and Vil never reaches all the way into the back of it.

Once your tears have stopped, you stand up and go back to cleaning the bathroom. It’s spotless and smells like lavender and lemons about an hour before Vil gets back, so you decide to skim one of the books on the shelves. 

It’s not long before you’re bored with that as well. You carefully put the book back and wander over to the lattice window, staring out of it. The window, paired with your usual low mood, made you sort of feel like a bird in a very ornate cage. 

From where you are, about three stories up, you notice a familiar figure notching an arrow before he unnotches it and takes a knee. You blandly spectate as he fiddles with the bow.

Partway through him notching the arrow again, you see his hat tilt. He’s far away enough that you can’t see his eyes, but you can feel his stare. His gloved hand bends his brim and you jerk away from the window, only to bump into someone.

You don’t get to shriek, as a hand clamps over your mouth. It’s just Vil, but you don’t relax yet as he drags you towards the bed and deposits you there.

“How many times must I tell you to stay away from the window?”

He’s never once told you to stay away from the window. Not as far as you can recall, at least. Your lips tremble and you decide it’d be more wise to keep silent.

Vil glares down at you and you feel the rest of your body start to tremble. His lips curl into a displeased sneer, “You didn’t wash your face after crying?”

“N-no, Vil-”

“We do not stutter.” Vil hisses, bending to get in your face. He stares at you for a moment before standing straight again, “Speak up.”

You swallow and clench your hands into fists, “No… Vil. I… got rid of the foundation like you, um… asked me to. I wouldn’t have been able to redo-”

“Alright. Go wash your face.” Vil interrupts you again.

You jump up and rush into the bathroom, going through your skincare routine. You can feel Vil staring at you, your skin crawling under his gaze. As you rub moisturizer into your skin, Vil finally says something.

“Did Rook do something to you, darling?” His tone is soft, tentative.

You glance at him, blinking a few times. What does he mean by ‘something’? He did do something, but it wasn’t bad, or particularly different.

“Um… Not exactly.” You say, massaging your forehead.

“I see. What did he do?” 

You look down at the sink. You’re not saying anything about the candy. “Rook kissed me?”

“That should not be a question.” Vil says. You see him shake his head through your peripheral, “Would you like to change your clothes before I redo your makeup?”

You’d like to ask what he’s talking about, but instead, you look down at your clothing. You don’t have a proper Pomefiore uniform because you’re not a part of this dorm. You’re an interloper- or a caged bird.

You don’t know what to do here. You don’t want to say something wrong and unintentionally offend Vil. Your palms ache. You give him a confused look from where you are.

He doesn’t look impressed, but before he can say anything about you gaping at him, you speak up, “What… am I supposed to do?”

You’ve only seen Vil surprised a few times. He raises his eyebrows and looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads, then sighs, “Well, I suppose I’d like to see you in something else. I’ll choose your outfit.”

That’s nothing new, he always does that. You wait in the bathroom for him to return. He strolls back in with a mockery of the Pomefiore uniform. There’s a deep purple cloak and capelet, which Vil drapes on the bed before handing you the actual clothes. It’s a very ruffled dress shirt, the long, puffy sleeves cinched into more ruffles at the wrist paired with a pair of black bloomer-style shorts. The buttons are all white and gold, marbled together. 

Vil leaves the bathroom and you change, neatly tucking your previous clothing away in the hamper. When you leave, as usual, Vil picks at your clothing, making sure it looks as good on you as he pleases, and then he steers you to sit down.

For however vicious he can be, Vil can be oddly gentle. For every time he grabs you roughly, his touch is feather-light ten more times. He hums a soft tune as he puts light makeup on you, just your eyes and lips, and then he drapes the cloak around your shoulders and places his hands on his hips.

“You look lovely. Go put on the pair of gold boots with the black decals.”

You do as told. He very likely wants to just take pictures of you or something so he can ask that Mira app about it.

Except when you stop in front of him, he doesn’t tell you to go sit in the loveseat or on the table near his window, no, he scoops you up and presses his forehead against your jaw.

“Oh, when did you put on this cologne? What a ravishing smell on you.” He presses a kiss on the column of your throat and breezes out of his dorm room's door.

Almost immediately, you go limp in his arms, like a doll. He never gave you explicit verbal permission to leave this room, so the curse he placed on you when he decided you should be his smashes into you like a giant wave at the beach.

Vil carries you all the way outside and looks at your face, then happily struts along the path behind the dorm. Since you can’t turn your head, you can only go off of the view of Vil’s neck and chin, the sky, and whatever you can hear.

“Ah, I am glad to see you did not change your mind, Roi du Poison. J'aurais ét�� très déçue et triste pour notre chéri.” You hear Rook say. 

You can almost feel Vil get a mite warmer, “Yes, well. Hand me the basket. Since you want to make out with them and make them cry, you get to carry them as an apology.”

Rook happily scoops you out of Vil’s arms, giving you a cloying look as he strolls along. He and Vil chat as they walk, something not really worth listening in on, just boring musings about class and “this teacher did x” or “that student did y”. An insect lands on your cheek and you are incapable of batting it away or expressing your discomfort. Its legs tickle the peach fuzz on your face and you remain still, like a corpse.

Rook slides you into a seated position, posing you like a toy before shooing the bug off of your face. Now you can see that you’re in a clearing in the woods, seated on a picnic blanket. There’s a few lanterns staked into the ground, and Rook and Vil are busy with whatever is on the floor. You can’t look down, so your best guess is that it’s a picnic.

Vil leans over and snaps in your face, smiling kindly at you, “Now. If I release you, you are not going to run. You are not going to so much as consider running. We are going to have a nice picnic with no shenanigans from you.”

You can’t nod, so you just stare at him, trying to telepathically communicate.

He looks pleased enough, “Wonderful. I give you permission to leave our room.”

Your muscles relax and you look back, finding that you’re leaned against a log. The picnic spread is very nice, as well. It looks like finger sandwiches. You’re not expecting to get to eat one, as you haven’t had bread since Vil switched up your diet. Vil passes something to you.

“Oh.” You mumble, staring at the plate Vil hands you. 

It’s a sandwich. A very wonderful looking sandwich, cut into triangles and with the crusts still on. You blink at it a few times and look back up at Vil.

“Don’t expect this to be a pattern. This is a treat for good behavior.”

You look back down, “Yes, Vil.”

“There’s no need to remind them. They’re being obedient.” Rook’s voice is more firm than you expected to hear him ever speak. Usually his tone is buoyant, and you’ve never seen him outright pick a fight with Vil like this.

“Please. You give anyone an inch, they’ll take a mile.” Vil cuts back, then turns to you and pets your head like a dog or a cat again, “Eat your food, beautiful.”

You take a bite. Bread is just as good as you remember it. The air feels thick, like you’re in a bubble as Vil and Rook communicate through eye contact alone. Before you know it, your sandwich is gone and your hands are covered in crumbs. Rook, still staring at Vil with that happy little smile, wipes your hands and places a glass in your hands. Whatever is in it smells sweet. You take a tentative sip.

Were it Vil, you would have never drank whatever this is. It kind of tastes like a mellow mixed berry juice. It’s very pleasant, actually. Better than the potion Vil used to lace your food and drinks with. You smile into the cup and Vil snatches it from you.

He takes a sip and frowns, handing it back, “Mmm. I have an even better surprise.”

Rook pulls your legs into his lap and gently kneads your calves as you watch Vil rifle through the picnic basket. What is happening? You sip your juice and Vil produces a triangular container. He places a fork on top and hands it to you.

You finish the last of your juice and accept the box, looking conspiratorially at Rook. Something you can’t put your finger on dances in his eyes and he digs his thumb into your shin a little strongly. You flinch and cautiously open the box. It’s a piece of fluffy white cake, with even fluffier meringue and an uncannily perfect cherry wedged into it.

You look at Vil, expecting some kind of trick. Not that he’s ever done that before, usually he’d just take it from you or make some snide comment, things like that, but he and Rook are acting really strange today, 

“I know how much you long for junk food, so I spent some time after club activities today whipping up some angel food cake. It’s got agave instead of sugar so it won’t completely break your diet and your skin won’t suffer as much.”

Yeah, this is weird. The cake is good, though, it’s fluffy and sweet. You pace your bites so that Vil won’t make a comment and you can savor this. You can feel both of their eyes on you and it makes your skin crawl.

You lower the cake box and look at Vil, who looks a bit offended for just a second. The fleeting expression is replaced by a pleased little grin, the mauve lipstick making the curve of his lips all the more sinister in the dimming light.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, Vil.” You glance at the cake and then back at him, “I’m… I’m sorry, I’m a little confused.”

“Why?” Rook asks.

Your shoulders jerk as you turn your head to look at him. You weren’t expecting him to say anything. His chest swells in what appears to be a suppressed chuckle as he squeezes your knee. It seems his hands have climbed.

“Uh…” You swallow, “This is just… not what I’m used to.”

“The cake?” Vil looks hurt. Why does he look hurt?

You shake your head rapidly, “No! Oh- No, Vil. I… It’s just been so long since I’ve been out here…”

“Do you want to go inside, chéri?” Rook murmurs.

You do, but you also don’t really want to risk sounding ungrateful. Being outside has stressed you out more than you’d like to admit. You’re not really sure what to do because Vil has you trained like a dog, and none of what he’s hammered into you involves picnics. You’re scared.

Rooks eyes narrow as you just stare at him. Your chest hurts from how hard your heart is throbbing, and on the other side of you, Vil sighs.

“Well, I’ll start cleaning up, then. When we get back, I expect you to take a seat on the bed.”

That sounds like what happens every time you get in trouble. A terror shudders through you and your eyes water a bit as you gnaw on your lip. Your palms ache as you fight to keep from picking at your cuticles. Vil packs up everything and Rook offers you a princely hand to help you up.

You can feel the calluses on his hands through his gloves as he essentially lifts you to your feet. You keep between Rook and Vil as you walk back to the dorm.

It’s quiet, since everyone else is winding down for bed. For a moment, you think you spot Epel, but you’re not sure. It doesn’t matter anyway. None of your old friends talk to you anymore. Not since Vil started having eyes for you.

Just as you were told, after taking off your boots you take a seat on the bed and retrieve the silver ruler from the side-table’s drawer. You place it beside you as you look down at your feet. You look down at the streaky bruises on the lighter skin on your palms and try not to start crying. It’s always worse when you cry.

He adds smacks by twos. Depending on what you did, you start with four or six, and then any time you flinch or pull away or make a loud noise, he adds two more. Last time, you spilled one of his nail polishes, and after watching you clean it up, you ended up getting ten lashes.

At least Rook didn’t do it then. He tries to make it quick but that just makes it hurt more. A tear slips down your cheek.

You don’t even know what you did. You tap the tear track dry with one fingertip and Vil and Rook fully enter the room.

“Why is the ruler out?” Vil asks, and then his voice goes sharp, “Are you crying?”

“I’m… I’m sorry, Vil.” You sob.

“I don’t know why.” He grabs the ruler and shoves it away before you can raise your hands, “Go wash your face.”

You stand up and shakily do as told, returning to sit on the bed. Vil goes into the bathroom after you and Rook takes a seat next to you, his hand on your shoulder.

He smiles at you, rubbing your shoulder, “You are très précieux, chéri.”

You look at him in a state of hollow bewilderment as he brushes his cheek against yours and presses a soft kiss to the shell of your ear.

You hear the bathroom door close and a tired sigh from Vil, “Do you have no patience?”

Your head jerks to look at VIl, “Rook is…?”

“Yes, he’s joining us tonight.” Vil plucks the loop of his sleeve from his middle finger and loosens his belt. You get the feeling that the next words he says aren’t for you, “Well, go ahead.”

You feel Rook’s chuckle more than you hear it. With his lips against your neck, his hands begin to slide. The hand on your shoulder rests on the nape of your neck and his other hand slides down to your thigh, then up to your waist. You try not to cringe against his touch, but it’s difficult.

His hand slides down again as he trails his teeth against the back of your ear. His thumb hooks in your pants and starts yanking them down. You outright flinch.

“Wait-”

“Relax, darling.” Vil mumbles, hanging his clothing in the armoire.

You try. You absolutely try. Rook throws your bloomers aside and rests his hand on your lower belly for a moment. He sighs into your ear and reaches up to unclasp your buttons.

You feel stiff. You want to push him away but you can’t move. It’s as though your body is frozen. It’s not due to a curse, so the only possible solution is that you’re quite literally scared stiff. 

He pulls away your shirt and glances at Vil, “Are you prepared?”

“Please.” You can hear the smile on Vil’s lips as Rook turns back and kisses you again, his hand smoothing along your collarbone and shoulders.

Your underwear is the next to go. Of course it is. You fight to keep from breathing oddly, because you’re aware that if you pass out, Vil will get annoyed.

“Mmm.” The devil’s hand glides up your back and you fight back a shudder as Rook leans you backwards into his arms. “How are you feeling, darling?”

You’re honest, “I’m scared.”

“I thought you would say that.” Vil freely manhandles you, shifting you so you’re leaned chest to chest. He slides something off of the side table and passes it behind you, then cups your cheek, “You would save a lot of time and stress if you’d just learn to trust me.”

“I…” You hate him. You hate him so much. He keeps you here like a pet, and you don’t know how he’s supposed to expect you to treat him like a lover when he treats you the way he does. 

Before you can articulate an answer that pleases Vil, a wicked burn besets your sphincter and you clench your jaw. 

Vil’s voice is sharp, “Rook, please.”

You hear Rook make a noise underneath the harsh sound of blood rushing in your ears and your own heavy panting. Something cool oozes around the ring of your ass and you press your face against Vil’s chest. His robe is lazily tied, which is not particularly like him, and you can see his cock poking out where the fabric separates. You let out a strangled noise and Vil shushes you, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Relax. I know, you weren’t prepared. Relax.” Vil soothes.

“I don’t mind if you remain tense, chéri. Mon plaisir n'en est que plus grand. And your little cries and whimpers sont terriblement mignons.” Rook mumbles behind you.

Rook is better than Vil in most areas, but once he gets his dick inside of you, it’s as though he forgets to be caring and kind. The tables flip, with Vil acting the part of a caring lover and Rook becoming a sadistic bully. You let out a ragged sob as Rook rolls his hips and Vil hisses something that you don’t quite catch.

It almost sounded like he was telling Rook to slow down. That very well could have been the case, as Rook eases back a bit and only shallowly thrusts.

Vil continues petting you, coaxing you so your cheek is pressed against his thigh. He is always a perfect warm. He is always perfect, so it sort of makes sense, but his skin is a pleasant temperature. He feels alive, a perfectly human temperature that tells you he’s breathing and his heart is beating. As he fingers through your hair, Rook gives a harsher than usual thrust and you cry out.

“Rook, if you’re impatient then you’re going to hurt them, and neither of us have the time to take care of them all day.” Vil chides, and then his tone softens as he rubs the space between your shoulders, “Are you ready for me as well, darling?” “What…?” You ask, blearily. Somewhere in the back of your awareness, you know what he wants, but you can feel Rook’s thrusts growing impatient and seeing as you weren’t given any prep, you’re in a bit too much shock to think straight.

“Mmm… You’re awfully cute but I need you to be a bit more lucid.” Vil snaps in your ear and resumes his petting, “This isn’t the first time, sweetheart. I’m not going to hold your hand.”

The soft tip of his member spreads his pre like lipgloss against your lips. As you shakily open your mouth, you figure you’re lucky that Vil doesn’t have a chaotic, unhealthy diet like Leona or Ace, that he doesn’t drink coffee for fun or often like Deuce does. The taste of his skin is lightly floral and dominantly human, likely thanks to the body lotion he applies daily. 

He hisses and presses against your forehead, “Ah-ah. You’re taking enough from Rook. Just the tip for me is fine.”

From behind, you hear Rook grumble under his breath, “Je n'en peux plus de cette merde…”

“Watch your- unf- watch your language, Rook.” Vil snarls, massaging the nape of your neck as you carefully lave your tongue over his glans.

Rook’s patience breaks, his hands clamping down on your waist, just above your hips. You have the sense to pull Vil’s cock out of your mouth as Rook begins battering into you.

As much as you feel okay about Rook, he is not a doting lover by nature. He’s mean and brutal, chasing his climax, and only after he cums does he bother to think about you or your needs. Your palms ache as you grab Vil’s member and gently tug on it. Vil flinches and snaps at you to get your attention.

You look to the side and for a second, as the pain ebbs, you assume you’re having an out of body experience, and then you realize that you’re staring into his vanity mirror. Rook’s hair exaggeratedly sways with his motion. He removed his hat but just haphazardly displaced the rest of his clothing. He’s not smiling, he’s making some sort of smug expression.

It’s funny. As Vil is satisfied with you weakly jerking him off, his touch gentle, Rook is wild on your other end. Every time you just barely begin to relax, he thrusts harder, which makes you tense and a spike of pain batters through you. 

You endure as best you can. You endure every day, enduring through eating the same unfulfilling food, enduring through walking on eggshells around Vil, enduring getting your palms beaten to hell for the most human of errors, so what’s getting sodomized in the face of everything else you can handle?

You bite back a shriek as a harsh pinch on your bottom, followed by a smack administered by Rook. He leans down and blows in your ear, snickering as he leans back, “I thought you had given up the ghost for a second there.”

Vil sucks in a breath and you quietly mumble against his thigh.

“Hmm? I didn’t hear you, mon chou.” Rook’s voice is almost mocking, like before.

“P-please… Rook, I can’t-”

“You can. You’ll live.” He grunts, the steady clap of your ass against his body punctuating his statement.

“It hurts.” You sniffle. You’re not particularly prone to crying, but, then again, Rook and Vil usually prepare you before deciding to fuck your ass.

You sob and Rook’s grasp tightens on your waist, a ragged moan punching out of his chest. He pulls your body flush to his and jerks his hips into you, drilling a bit harder for all of four or five thrusts. And then he’s no longer on you, and you feel your body getting shifted so your head is still in Vil’s lap but you’re lying prone.

You tilt Vil’s dick down to massage the head with your tongue and something warm drips on your back. You hear a noise of disgust from Vil, capped by a quiet moan.

“Absolutely not. All three of us are getting in the tub if you don’t clean that up right now.”

Rook chuckles and coos, “Hmm, but it looks so lovely. My alabaster essence creates a wonderful contrast with their soft and supple skin.”

A flush of humiliation crawls up the back of your neck and you hide your face against Vil’s belly, using your own arm to hide the other half. Vil shudders as he pushes your head down a bit, but his voice sounds incredulous.

“That’s vile. It doesn’t have any proven health benefits, you know that.”

You felt Rook’s hands spreading his semen into the skin on your back and your palms ache as Vil cums in your mouth. He doesn’t do that often, so it hits you like a shock.

You gag but force it down and Vil shoots up, fretting over you.

“Did you just swallow that?” He bends down to look into your eyes.

“Yes, Vil.”

“You didn’t need to do that.” Vil snips, sounding much harsher than he might intend, “I’m going to run us a bath, alright, darling? I’ll make sure you can brush that icky stuff out of your mouth.”

It didn’t taste bad. Vil usually cums on your face as an incentive for you to wash your face very well after a day of wearing makeup, or he has you jerk him off until he cums, but the few other times you did taste it, it was the same as this time. It was mostly salty, not too bitter, likely from his good diet. Regardless, he breezes away and Rook gives your bottom a light tap. You stand up and glance at Rook, who is looking a bit disheveled but pretty pleased with himself.

“How are you feeling, cheri?”

“That hurt.” Your voice is quiet, and your throat is still lined with tears.

“Does it still hurt?” He smiles and tilts his head.

The sound of the tub running is thunderous even where you are. Vil would never tolerate you complaining, but Rook is amicable, “A little.”

“The bath will do you good, then. Come.”

You let Rook guide you into the bathroom, his hand on your elbow. As he undresses and joins Vil on the edge of the tub, you look down at your bruised hands and glance at the slowly closing bathroom door, then at Rook and Vil where they stand near the tub.

You can’t say you prefer either of them, really, but you don't get an opinion. Do dolls at tea parties get to ask for a different kind of tea?

[cuubism]

unhinged dreamling modern au #409430950

the bachelor

dream is bribed, threatened, and/or physically dragged by his ankle into being on a dating show by death and desire (for very different reasons, death just wants him to be happy and is very very desperate at this point, desire's just fucking with him again), and needless to say dream is not the target candidate for this. at all. sure he's pretty and rich but he's also a complete asshole. this is destined to go poorly.

(unless you're the show's producers who just want an unhinged television trainwreck that keeps people in their seats, in which case it's fucking fantastic)

hob is also there as a contestant because he's bored, single, and always willing to do something stupid. everybody on the show is taking it seriously except for dream, who'd rather jump off a cliff than be here right now, and hob, who's just entertaining himself.

dream: this is stupid (hateful) hob: this is stupid (having the time of his life)

needless to say this whole thing is a disaster. normally contestants are clamoring for the 'bachelor's' attention but dream just keeps being an utter jerk to everyone, making them cry, and causing them to actually drop out of the show. contestants: "i'd rather die than be with you." dream: "glad we're finally on the same page." like. dream doesn't even have to actively eliminate people. they just eliminate themselves because he's so insufferable.

hob isn't put off, though, this whole thing is hilarious to him. dream tries scaring him off and hob just laughs like "oh you're so cute, this is great"

dream: i hope you die hob: you want me so bad it makes you look stupid

the more people drop out of the show the more time dream and hob end up spending together, by necessity. unfortunately for dream's sanity hob is actually very charming and fun and inexplicably good at getting dream to smile. they have at least one proper heart-to-heart and hob is so kind to him, and dream hates him soooo much for it.

(of course he actually likes him, and it's the worst thing that's happened to him, maybe ever. he's in agony. he wants off this ride, please. maybe he wants on a different ride ahem.)

so now hob's properly invested in this stupid game, he's like oh that wretched stick of a man is mine (literally nobody is challenging him but he's being super competitive about it anyway). all it really results in is dream being MORE of an asshole both to hob and to everybody else. (dream: one time i had a crush on this guy and i didn't know how to handle it so i just wrote him a letter saying get out of my tv show). and yet every week dream could eliminate hob from the show but he never does...

anyway soon enough literally every other contestant has dropped out of the show and it's JUST hob remaining and he basically wins by default. dream absolutely will not be beaten or outdone and is like fine hob i'll call your bluff. marry me if you're so committed to winning. hob's like, bet :) (see: always willing to do something stupid).

they do in fact get married because they're both incapable of conceding defeat. then they're like well. what do we do now...

dream: going to divorce me now and take half of my money? run with your spoils? hob: idk, are you going to divorce me and finally 'free yourself from the torment of my presence'? dream: *sniff* then you would win hob: then i bet i can stay in this relationship longer than you :) dream, gritting his teeth: bet

anyway they manage about two months before dream, perpetually in agony over how aggressively he's into hob, is like fine, i concede, i can't take it anymore. leave me if you want, take my money, i do not care, only free me from this pain. hob: so... i win? i get to choose the prize? dream, utterly defeated: whatever you want hob: okay! and he kisses him

[acesgarden]

For the lovely @nuncscioquidsitamor-14 <3 The first interaction we had lolol. I am so greatful to have had you interact with me. I have made so many wonderful mutuals and have had so much fun being back on Tumblr over the past few months. I will be honest, I don’t think I would stuck around (as I have ghosted my account two times prior-). So I mean it when I say thank you for being the reason I stayed.

Also, sorry for what i’m about to do to Leo.

|| Mother Hen the Mother Hen

Pairing(s) ->

2012!Leonardo H. x F!Reader

Warning(s) ->

Violence, Injuries, Blood,

Summary ->

Leo goes to reader after being injured on a solo mission.

1067 Words : Masterlist

He jumped back, hand clutching himself with heavy breaths. Staring down the remaining foot. Taking his katana and charging. Forming a roundhouse kick, the tip of his katana being used as support, as he pushed off of one foot soldier to slam another. The hilt of his katana backing into another’s stomach before jumping away. Landing perfectly.

Leonardo has come alone. No one, not even Master Splinter knew of this outing. Just him. He took off again, with only a few stragglers remaining of this bust. Whatever they wanted, they were not going to get it.

Next thing he knew, Leo found himself being slammed against a wall.

His shell and body ached, he was exhausted, and most importantly did not want to face the scolding of his master, or brothers. So, Leo went to the one place he’d avoid all of that. The home of a special ‘friend’ of his. He knew the route by heart. A past solo patrol where he stopped a mugging led to one, two, three, more meetings after that night.

It was not far, but his injuries significantly slowed him down. He was more out of breath by the time he arrived. Landing with a stumble on your fire escape. Slumping against the side railing. He managed to make one tiny knock before he grew still, in hopes of not hurting his injuries further.

𓂃 ࣪˖

The second she heard the knock she turned to look, the knock was familiar. The sigh Leo used to let her know he was there. She found it a little strange he came without a heads up, but it wasn’t unwanted. But when [name] looked out the window. The smile she had faltered and her face shifted to one of worry and concern.

The teenage girl—without hesitation—swiftly got out the window and dragged the exhausted turtle, katanas and all inside.

“Leonardo Hamato! What the hell happened to you? Where are your brothers? Do they know? Does Master Splinter know?” This was exactly what Lep had hoped to avoid. But it seems he can’t.

“Shit- just wait here!” Her voice wavered and she was practically sprinting to find something. In the next few seconds he knew what: a first-aid kit, after he removed his hand from himself.

Blood—red shiny blood—it clung to his hand and the adrenaline just began to wear off right then.

“Oh..” His own voice wavered.

She can right back at that moment getting to work to stop the bleeding while rambling on to him about this. Like a mother hen- like himself.

“Seriously, Lee, do your brothers or father know you're out? At all?” Right- two things his brothers and father didn’t know. That he was out of a solo patrol, and that he had a girlfriend.

“No, they don’t know I'm out—or that you exist..”

“Leonardo.”

The blue clad turtle diverted away his eyes. He could tell she was more mad about the ‘his brothers and father didn’t know he was out’ thing.

“You need to be more careful! This wound is pretty deep, Leo. I’m just glad you didn’t pass out on the way here.”

“I’m sorry, love.”

As soon as the wound was wrapped and cleaned she stood up.

“Let me check your shell.”

“Huh-“

“You tensed when I was near it, let me see, c’mon.”

Leo turned with your help, letting you assess his shell. She could see him tensing in certain areas when she glided over them. There were no cracks, or holes, yet. So for now she took some diluted betadine and applied it to the area, then gently covered it to keep it from getting infected.

“There, it’s just bruised and nothing serious. But, as you get home you make sure they check it out and watch for cracks or holes, okay?”

Leo nodded. His eyes had been locked onto the movie playing, it was a good distraction. [Name] joined him back on the couch, and Leo slowly and gingerly leaned against her, burying himself into her side.

The two remained quiet during the movie, well except for the occasional adjustment, between the two. The little popcorn that had originally been made for [Name] was quickly gone.

“I’m gonna go make some more, I'll be right back.” She pecked the top of his head. Leo hummed a response, invested in the movie. He was content on the couch, even getting a little sleepy. Well if it wasn’t for the ache in his legs begging to move. He waited a while longer, until he couldn’t. The turtle mutant pulled himself up holding onto whatever he could as he guided himself to the kitchen.

“Leo-? You should be on the couch resting.” [Name] turned from the popcorn to look at Leo.

“I needed to stretch. So my legs aren’t sore tomorrow morning.” She took the answer with a nod, returning to the popcorn which was almost finished popping.

Leo stands beside her, slowly lacing their hands together, figuring with her fingers.

“Thank you for fixing me up.” She smiled.

“I would do it again, a thousand times over.” She added with her smile now directed at him.

“And I would ‘mother hen’ you even if you had gone home first.” Leo smiled, twirling her around slowly. Getting a laugh from her.

“Like I do?” He guessed.

“Very much like you do.” He would do it a million times over if it meant being with her too.

A beep came from the microwave, alerting them the popcorn had finished. Leo helped her bring the warm popcorn bowl back to the couch. Getting readjusted and comfortable on the couch.

The movie was almost over by the time they returned, it had been half way through upon his arrival at least. They both were—mostly—quiet during the rest of the movie. Little comments being made here and there. Popcorn grabbed and eaten. Soon the second bowl was discarded from their laps.

[Name] made sure Leo was comfortable leaning against her, that it wasn’t awkward on his shell, and that he wasn’t awkwardly positioned. He reassured her and she nodded with relief.

The movie ended around the time Leo fell asleep. [Name] turning the TV off and grabbing the blanket behind her wrapping it around the two. Falling asleep shortly after. A little smile on her face,and relief that Leo was okay tonight. Tomorrow? That would be a whole other story.

[imsofuckinggayforwomen]

OBANAI x MITSURI x READER HEADCANONS

[sfw and nsfw] MINORS DO NOT READ PAST THE NSFW PART

Hellooo you guys rlly liked my last two headcanon posts so I’m back with another, however since no one left any requests I decided to do one of my favorite tropes!

Once again thanks for all of the support, feel free to request anything!! (Pls I need ideas)

Warnings: Smut, Threesome, Fem reader.

Obanai and Mitsuri 💕

SFW

Somehow, you managed to find yourself in love with two beautiful people. Lucky for you, both of them felt the same.

Mitsuri and Obanai called you to their house one night for a seemingly normal chat.

You did not expect the topic to include you joining their relationship.

Obanai was pretty blunt about it. “It’s kinda obvious you had feelings for us, it annoys me that you never came to admit them.”

Mitsuri was all ushy gushy “EEEEEE Y/N!!! IM SO GLAD YOU LOVE US TOO!!”

From that day on, y’all were a throuple (I think that’s what it’s called)

Obanai cherished both you and Mitsuri. He was always looking out for you two, glaring at others but then softening when either of you are near.

Kabumaru approved of you as well, occasionally sliding from Obanai’s shoulder to yours.

Mitsuri absolutely adored you. There was never a moment where she wasn’t physically touching you. She liked wrapping you in hugs and just never letting you leave.

Every time one of you left for a mission, the remaining two would always be anxious and waiting for updates.

It was hard finding time to spend all together with Mitsuri and obanai being hashiras.

you found yourself alone on certain nights, both of your partners being on a mission.

However, every time they returned they were sure to give you all of the love you missed.

At night you usually sleep in between your lovers. Mitsuri curled up to your chest, whilst Obanai has a tight grip on your waist from behind.

You and Mitsuri tend to be troublemakers sometimes, Obanai always having to cease chaos.

NSFW

girl you are in for one helluva ride

All of you tend to switch roles around, but somehow you manage to find yourself mainly on the submissive side.

Most sessions usually occur by one of you initiating and the other two joining in.

Both of them love body worship, they make sure you know how beautiful you are.

Mitsuri and obanai are munches you cannot prove me wrong.

Mitsuri is more jumpy and flirty, she tends to start a lot of the actions.

She absolutely loves face sitting, wether it’s you or her on top she does not care.

For this instance, your sitting on mitsuri’s face. She’s sucking and licking at your clit with fervor, making an absolute mess out of you.

Obanai kneels in front of your trembling self, kissing and sucking on your upper body whilst you stroke his length.

Running his hands through Mitsuri’s hair, he suddenly pushes her head up into your hips.

You jump and Mitsuri moans as she sucks harder on your wetness.

You’re cumming in no time, Obanai has to literally lift you off of Mitsuri’s face to get her to stop.

You’ve got her all worked up, quickly rising to her knees and pushing obanai to sit on the bed.

Mitsuri crawls on top of him, turning back to look at you longingly.

Almost instantly, you climb up behind her and start marking up her nape with your mouth while Obanai directs himself into Mitsuri.

He gently begins to roll his hips up, pulling out mewls and moans from Mitsuri’s mouth.

Your arms reach around from behind Mitsuri, grabbing onto her breasts.

She gasps, leaning into your touch as Obanai speeds up his pace.

He’s slightly grunting now, hips timing perfectly with Mitsuri’s.

Obanai gives you a familiar look, seemingly signaling you to do something.

With a cute smile on your face, you reach your hands down towards Mitsuri’s center. Swiftly, you spread her folds and place a finger on her clit.

Mitsuri arches her back at the sudden action, making Obanai hold her still on his cock.

Seeing that the both of your lovers are close, you begin to quickly circle Mitsuri’s clit. You lean your head over her shoulder, trapping Obanai into a kiss.

They come undone just a few seconds after, riding out the rest of their highs with your help.

Obanai is the prime aftercare initiator, seeing it as his job to take care of you and Mitsuri.

He’d guide you both into the bathroom and begin to run a bath.

You and Mitsuri are giggling and hugging each other while Obanai adjusts the bath temperature.

After a while, you all help each other get in the tub without slipping.

With you on one side, and Mitsuri on the other, Obanai seems content. He keeps a gentle grip on both of your waists.

Together, you all enjoy a nice warm bath.

EYAAAAAA THIS WAS FUN TO WRITE I LOVE OBANAI AND MITSURI SO MUCH!!!! The nsfw headcanons were more of a Drabble but meh whatever i think it’s good. Once again DONT BE SCARED TO REQUEST STUFF!!

I hope y’all enjoyed this as much as I did, all likes comments and reblogs are appreciated!!💕

[bella-rose29]

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - Part 2

To make this work (I'm sorry) the reader has a very large family, and they will have names (I genuinely cannot be asked to try and figure that out and make it entirely... non OC)

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: swearing, lockwood and children so beware your hearts, lockwood gets hugged and can't deal with it, the family members are mean, reader doesn't eat much, lockwood is still a bit of an arse and so is the reader (but hers is more justified), proofread maybe once

series master list

So far, it had absolutely been a shitshow.

Lockwood had remained silent for the next hour and a half of the train journey, and with not much else to do but plan every tiny detail of their fake relationship Y/n thought she might be going mad.

Luckily they already knew a lot about each other, so they could get away with not going over basic details about the other's life, but Y/n hadn't talked much about her family to anyone other than George in rants after phone calls with them, so if they thought that she was talking shit about them behind their backs (which she was, but they didn't need to know that) then they would descend like vultures.

She was disrupted from her thoughts when Lockwood stood up from the table seats they'd managed to get, his leg kicking at hers as he manoeuvred into the aisle, not sparing a second glance at Y/n. She frowned, about to call after him and ask where he was going, but when he disappeared out the doors and into the next carriage she decided that she didn't really care, and at least he wasn't brooding in her field of vision.

Y/n had barely been on her own for a minute when a family of five came into the carriage (they must have got on at the station they had recently stopped at), and with her being the only one sat on a table on her own and all the others taken, they made for her. She swallowed, for once wishing Lockwood was here to make her look less selfish, and sat up a little straighter in her seat.

"Excuse me, but would you mind moving? We've got three kids and need somewhere for us all to sit, and since there's only one of you..." The man trailed off, looking at Y/n pointedly, and while initially she had wanted to hold her ground she could feel herself shrinking under his gaze.

Where the fuck is Lockwood?!

He could talk his way out of this, she was sure. It was one of the few things she begrudgingly accepted was brilliant about him. It's not like Y/n didn't need the table; Lockwood's huge bag was sat on it and taking up most of the space, and her own backpack was on the seat next to her, but suddenly her breath was coming too quickly and her throat was closing up, and the man in front of her looked a little too similar to that one uncle-

"Is everything alright?" Lockwood's voice broke through the silence, and Y/n was annoyed to find herself reaching for him.

"Yeah, we just need this table, but this girl isn't moving."

"Sorry, my girlfriend's pretty tired at the moment, what with agents being in high demand right now. How about if we share? I think she needs a nap, poor thing, and we've got rather a lot of luggage between the two of us. I'll move over her side, shall I? Then you can take the other- yes, hello, little one." One of the couples' children had been tugging on Lockwood's hand, and Y/n could see the man's posture relax the more Lockwood talked, watching as her fake-boyfriend picked up the small child with ease and planted him on the train seat. The other two followed quickly, glad to not be on their feet any longer, and Lockwood came to sit next to Y/n, pulling his bag closer to them on the table and shoving her backpack onto the floor between everyone's legs. "See, you three all fit there perfectly don't you! You're only small," Lockwood was saying to the children, not yet noticing Y/n's shaky state. Their parents seemed to be content with the arrangement, taking their own seats across the aisle where they could watch their kids, and through the slight haze covering her eyes Y/n could see them visibly relax.

Once everybody was settled, Lockwood shuffled around in his seat trying to get comfortable, and when his elbow accidentally jabbed into Y/n's side he frowned at her.

"You alright?" he whispered, not wanting to draw the attention of their new companions. She took a moment to reply, not quite registering that Lockwood had actually said anything.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

"Right... just- you didn't say anything when I elbowed you just then and I'm worried you might be having a stroke."

"I'm not having a stroke, you idiot," she said, glare appearing on her face. She had some much better names for him, but with three children under the age of ten in front of her, she figured she should stick to the more family-friendly ones. Lockwood smiled, bright and wide and far too blinding.

"That's better." Apparently he had forgotten about the mishap on the platform earlier, and his previous ignorance of her presence, because after that he launched into a whole spiel of what their plan would be.

"Actually," she interrupted, not caring that he looked annoyed, "I've had a lot of time to figure this out. I just need you to confirm or come up with something better on a few things and we should be fine."

"Alright then, what's your grand plan?"

"Well we already know most of the basic stuff about each other, what with living together for nearly three years, so that solves that problem. One thing I did think of was family, since neither of us have actually..." she trailed off, unsure where the two of them stood on that subject given what had happened earlier. Lockwood was only nodding, his brow furrowed.

"Come to think of it, you've never really mentioned your family much," he said.

Y/n shrugged. "I just don't... you know... I just don't..." she flailed her hands around in front of her for a few moments, trying to come up with the right words.

"I don't know," Lockwood replied coolly, "Should I?"

"I just thought I'd tell you about who's gonna be there today, which is my mum and dad, my four brothers, my sister, my Aunt Linda, and her daughter Stephanie. Oh, and my grandparents on my mother's side, but they'll probably be in bed by the time we get there."

"That's... a lot of people."

"Yeah. There'll be more for the party tomorrow, and then the day after will be the same group from today again, and we're leaving that day anyway."

"Okay... what about names?"

"My mum is called Emma, my dad is Ben, my brothers are Sam, John, William, and Tom from oldest to youngest, and then my sister is called Olivia. My Grandma is Jean and my Gramps is Richard."

"Right." Lockwood paused for a moment, reciting the names under his breath. "Anything else I should know?"

"Aunt Linda and Steph are gonna be the worst, since they always try and make life miserable for me. They're ridiculously rich and like making fun of my job- oh, yeah, barely anybody supports my life choices or my job as an agent, so just prepare for that. Uh, where was I? Oh yeah, Steph and Linda will try and find out anything that could be used against us, so I really hope you can act because otherwise they'll figure this whole thing out in seconds."

"Wait-"

"And my brother Will is the most supportive, 'cause he knows that there are options for work after my Talent fades and I'm not going to be out on the streets-"

"Y/n-"

"-and he, John and Sam all play rugby so try not to piss them off because they're twice your size and will snap you like a twig-"

"Y/n!"

"What?!"

"You need to slow down! Go back to the part about your family not supporting your job?"

"Oh, there's not much to it, really." She felt awkward now, his gaze far too sharp for her liking. If he knew the full extent of how much she didn't like her family, he would waste no time in using it to make fun of her and take the upper hand while he could, and she would be left to sink further into herself until she disappeared. "They just don't think I'll have many options, so they want me to think about my next steps."

"Okay..." Lockwood trailed off, getting distracted by something the children were talking about and being asked his opinion on starfish. He looked as though he was about to start conversing with her again, but the train pulled into the platform they needed, and Lockwood was all business getting the luggage out safely.

~~~

"Are you alright?"

Y/n jumped a little in the back of the taxi, not expecting Lockwood's voice so close to her ear. "Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"You're very bouncy. If you're fine then could you not? You're jolting me."

Why had she thought he was trying to be nice? She should have known better by now that he wouldn't ever be that way with her, but it still stung.

Truthfully, she was on the verge of tears.

She wouldn't ever tell Lockwood that, of course, because how could he understand? He seemed to walk into any situation effortlessly, with endless optimism and charm that made life easy for him. Y/n was stuck panicking about seeing her family again, because if she couldn't even stand up to some random strangers on the train, how was she ever going to stand up to her family? No, she would just have to do her best to hide everything from Lockwood, to reduce the amount of blackmail material he would have against her.

~~~

The taxi pulled up outside the large cottage-style house, and Lockwood let out a low whistle.

"L/n, you never said your family was this fancy."

"They aren't. It was my Grandma's house, then she got dodgy knees and never moved out, and we moved in after selling up our old place to look after her and Gramps. We're about as fancy as your family, Lockwood, in that we too have multiple mortgages on this building to keep it."

"Anthony."

"What?" Y/n frowned, not sure what he was talking about.

"If we're going to pretend that we're dating, you probably shouldn't be calling me by my last name."

"Oh." She hadn't thought about that. The only reason she even knew his first name was because it was in large print on the sign outside the house, since it was generally accepted that he went by Lockwood and that was that.

"Or you could use some sort of nickname. I've got a few for you if you'd like to hear them." The grin on his face made Y/n think that she really didn't want to hear them, but he opened his mouth again anyway. "How about Sugarplum?" Y/n got out the car, slamming the door shut on him a little more harshly than she needed to. "Snookums? I think you look like a Snookums." The taxi driver was giving the two of them strange looks as he unloaded their bags, but Y/n ignored Lockwo- Anthony (she would have to get used to that) and handed over the money for the drive. "What about Sun Beam? Actually, you're too grumpy for that one. Oh, I know! My personal favourite," he paused for some sort of dramatic effect, being left behind on the driveway as Y/n stomped towards the front door. "Schmoopie."

Y/n stopped suddenly, turning to look back at her fake boyfriend with an incredulous look on her face. "Schmoopie?" He looked far too proud of himself as he picked up his bag and caught up with her, and she resisted the urge to hit him.

"Don't you like it, Schmoopie?"

"Call me that again and I'll be chucking your Source in the furnaces within the week." Lockwood (Anthony - she really needed to start calling him Anthony or she'd be saying 'Lockwood' to her family) Can't you just use my name? Or, you know, a more generic pet name?"

"Fine. You're very boring, I hope you know that."

"Sure. Just swear to me you'll never call me 'Schmoopie' again." She said the word with disgust, scrunching her nose up and fighting the urge to gag.

"Whatever you want, darling." That wasn't much better, but at least it was normal. Y/n raised her hand to knock, but before she could the door was being flung open, revealing a woman in a very festive jumper.

"You're here! She's here!"

~~~

Lockwood stood back slightly as the woman wrapped her arms around Y/n, squeezing so tightly he feared for his colleague's spine.

He braced himself for a similar treatment when she pulled back and spotted him, and the next thing he knew he was close to being suffocated as she brought him into a hug. Lockwood held his breath, his eyes wide and arms stuck out to the side as he tried to figure out what the hell he was meant to be doing. He hadn't been hugged like this since, well, since Jess. It took him a few seconds to work out that he needed to reciprocate the hug, but once he had, god. Why was he choking up? He could feel Y/n's eyes on him, so he shut his own and basked in the feeling of actually being held.

"You must be the boyfriend!" the woman said, pulling back and holding him by the forearms.

"Mum! Please don't terrify him!"

So this was Emma L/n, Y/n's mother.

"Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs L/n." He flashed one of his winning smiles, and he could see her visibly relaxing.

"Oh Emma, please!" She looked back over her shoulder at Y/n, mouthing (incredibly non-subtly) 'He's handsome!'

"Mum!" Y/n hissed, starting to turn red.

"What's your name then young man!"

"Anthony Lockwood," he replied, and took particular pleasure in seeing Y/n squirm in the background.

"Well, you'd better come in. Do you need help with the bags?"

"Oh, no, I've got them," he assured her, shouldering his large bag and reaching for the suitcase handle that Y/n was currently holding onto. She didn't relent for a moment, and they had a silent argument for control of the suitcase until eventually with a small tug he won, stumbling ever so slightly from the effort.

"Everything alright?" Emma asked, frowning at the two of them.

"Yes, perfectly fine!" Lockwood called back, shooting a glare at Y/n. She reciprocated, clenching her jaw at his smug smile that came afterwards. He moved inside the house, Y/n following shortly behind and closing the door to keep the warmth in.

"Where should we put our bags?" Y/n asked her mother.

~~~

They had a problem.

A very large problem.

"Well I'm not sharing with you," Lockwood said, moving further into the room that Y/n's mother had shown them to.

"Good," she said, eyeing the double bed. "Just don't complain when your back gives in from sleeping on the floor for so long."

"What? No, I'm taking the bed."

"It's my family home, what gives you more reason to have the bed than me?"

"I'm your boss, and I pay your wages. If you want to keep being paid then I'm having the bed."

Y/n scoffed, shaking her head. "Arsehole," she muttered, going over to the windows and closing the curtains against the now-dark sky outside. The bed was definitely large enough for two people to share, but when those two people hated each others' guts and weren't actually dating, the bed was far too small.

"What was that?"

"Arsehole," she repeated loudly, making sure to look him dead in the eyes when she did so, then immediately turning and heading into the en-suite bathroom.

"What is your issue with me?" he said, following after her.

"You're taking the bed! It's my fucking house!"

"Let's not forget that without me, you would be in a lot more of a tricky situation! I think I deserve the bed for my efforts; it's not easy pretending to love you, you know!"

"Oh, like it's so easy to love you?! You are so horrible to me, all the time, and now I have to pretend to actually want to be with you?! I'd have been in a difficult situation anyway, the only difference is that in this one, I have a fake boyfriend. I could deal with the humiliation of not having anyone with me, but this?" she laughed bitterly. "This is near to being beyond me, Lockwood." Fuck, why was she tearing up? She closed the bathroom door firmly in Lockwood's face, ignoring the shocked expression on his face in the second before he disappeared from her view.

She pushed the lock, waiting for the click before turning and facing the sink, bracing her hands on the edge and heaving a few deep breaths. She hadn't realised how hard it would be to pretend that she was completely fine around her family while they picked and prodded and commented and made snide remarks, and having Lockwood around was only making it worse.

She couldn't even begin to imagine all the things he would use as ammunition in the future. He'd have a field day on this holiday, taking all of her family's words and turning them against her, becoming even worse than he had been before.

A knock sounded on the door, light and unsure, and Lockwood's voice followed afterwards. "...Y/n? I- I'm-" he sighed, and she could imagine him clenching his jaw and looking up at the ceiling as he tried to fight against the nice words he was clearly trying to say. "I have a shit sleep schedule anyway, and you go to sleep a lot faster than I do so it's better for me to sit in a chair when I can't get to sleep and you can lie down, so... yeah." Y/n was surprised at how kind he was, and was starting to wonder if he was having some sort of stroke. But then he started talking again and she knew that he was completely fine.

"If you could not take for fucking ever in the bathroom though that would be great, because I really need a piss."

~~~

"Ah, there you both are! You took your time putting your bags away!" Linda's gaze drifted to Y/n as she said that, eyes sharpening and making the back of Y/n's neck prickle.

"Oh, that's my fault, sorry," Lockwood started, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in. Y/n stiffened, not used to being so close to him, and tried to force a smile onto her face. "I got carried away asking questions about the photos around the room, and I think I might have driven her slightly mad." He was smiling so widely and cheerfully that Y/n could practically feel everybody relaxing and warming up to him. It was frustrating, really, how they had known him for roughly ten seconds and already seemed to like him more than her. Her brothers were eyeing him up, trying to figure out whether they needed to take him outside or just give him a good talking to. Her sister Olivia was also eyeing Lockwood up, but in a very different way to their brothers that was making Y/n somewhat uncomfortable. It wasn't that they didn't get on and that was what was wrong, but they were sisters, and therefore they naturally disagreed on some things.

Apparently Lockwood's level of attractiveness was one of them.

"Oh, not to worry," her mother said, already loving having Lockwood here. "I made tea, if you'd like some? There's cake too, and far too much of it, so take as much as you want!"

"Tea would be lovely, Emma, thank you," Lockwood said, moving his arm away from Y/n's shoulders. She nearly jumped out of her skin in shock when she felt his hand land on her lower back instead, pushing her forward towards the empty loveseat that sat closest to the roaring fire. "Try not to look quite so horrified at this whole thing, darling," he whispered right into her ear, emphasising the pet name. "And maybe relax a little too, yeah?" He sat down on the chair, leaving very little room for Y/n to sit down herself without pressing up against him. She gave up trying to keep space between them when she ended up perching on the edge and gained strange looks from everyone else. Lockwood pulled her back towards him, grabbing her waist with both hands and tugging until she was right up against his chest, their thighs pressed together. He didn't let go, keeping his arms around her and nestling his head in the crook of her neck. She hadn't loosened up since walking in to the living room, and she was entirely sure that her spine was as stiff as one of the wooden floorboards under her feet. Her mother handed over two mugs of tea, placing them on the small side table next to their chair, then went to cut two slices of cake, starting with Lockwood's. He accepted his plate gratefully, smiling brightly up at her.

"How big of a slice, Y/n/n?"

"Uh... maybe-"

"Don't give her too big of a slice, she doesn't need that much," Stephanie interrupted, her tone sickly sweet. Y/n froze, and behind her she could feel Lockwood glancing between the two girls, trying to figure out what was happening. Her mother cut a decent sized slice, ignoring her niece's comment and handing the plate to Y/n.

"Did you make this, Emma?" Lock-Anthony (she might just give up trying to correct herself in a minute) asked.

"Oh, yeah, but you know, it's not my best."

"Well I think it's delicious, you'll have to share the recipe with me so I can have more of it back in London!"

"I'd be happy to! Do you bake then?"

"Oh, no, I'm awful. I'd burn the house down I'm sure. But our friend George is a magician in the kitchen."

"Remind me what you do for work again?" her father asked.

"Actually, maybe you could just... tell us. Since we know nothing about you!" Linda laughed. "We don't even know your name!"

"Anthony Lockwood," he said, yet another of his classic Lockwood smiles taking over his face. Y/n was starting to feel sick from the way Stephanie and Linda were watching them, and she put her fork down on her plate. "Y/n hasn't mentioned me much then?"

"No," Linda simpered. "I have to say, I was very surprised when I heard my sister say that Y/n had a boyfriend. I'm even more surprised that you actually exist!"

"I can't really blame her for not saying anything, I suppose. We're very busy a lot of the time and when we are free I'm often dragging her out on dates and the like, so if you haven't heard from her then that's entirely my fault." God, how was he such a good liar? Everybody believed him right away, but if she tried to get away with something like that they'd be asking so many questions she would give up and tell the truth.

"And... what is it you do for work?" her father asked again, desperate for the answer.

"I'm an agent."

"Fittes or Rotwell?"

"Uh... no, I-"

"Bunchurch then? Or maybe Grimble?"

"Actually," Lockwood glanced at Y/n, and she nodded slightly, bracing herself for her family's reaction. "I run my own agency. George, who I mentioned earlier, is our researcher, Lucy is our Listener, Holly our secretary, and then of course there's Y/n. Best Touch in England." He squeezed her slightly, and when she looked back at him he was smiling up at her so adoringly that she wondered how she ever hated him.

Then he jabbed her side, making her wobble and nearly spill the tea that she'd just picked up, and she remembered that he was a dick.

"Your... own... agency?"

"Yes." Lockwood didn't seem perturbed, which was lucky, because Y/n was feeling increasingly more unsettled with every second that passed. "We're based in London in my family home, but we take clients from all around England."

"Right... so that makes you Y/n's... boss?"

"I know it's not... the usual, but there is nothing that says we cannot be in a relationship. Believe me, I've checked. I don't think there is anything that could have been done to stop me from falling for your daughter, sir, despite her own best efforts, and I like to think that I keep my role as her boss completely separate from my role as her boyfriend."

Y/n stared at him in mild shock, not quite believing how sincere he sounded, and Lockwood was refusing to look at her.

Uneasy glances were exchanged by nearly all of Y/n's gathered family members, the only exceptions being Will, who had always supported Y/n, and Olivia, who was too busy checking Lockwood out. Y/n put her plate of cake down, having spent the last few minutes picking at it and barely eating any, and ignored the look that Lockwood gave her. She wasn't feeling hungry at all now that she was surrounded by everyone, and Stephanie was watching every move she made with terrifying intensity. No doubt there would be some fresh insults this year, and Y/n couldn't wait to be back home again.

Home.

Since when had she considered Lockwood's house her home?

"You alright?" Lockwood whispered in her ear. He kept asking her that, and it was freaking her out a little.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She stood up, gently detaching herself from Lockwood's grip and putting her mug of tea on the side table, half drunk. "Just need the loo, be back in a bit." She tried smiling at everyone, but the water gathering in her eyes made it difficult to pretend that she was actually fine, and she left the room finding it hard to breathe. Y/n headed up the stairs and into the bathroom attached to the room that she and Lockwood were staying in, and for the second time that day braced herself on the sink as she tried to regain control of her body. "Fuck," she muttered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." She splashed some cold water on her face, holding it against her skin in the hopes that it would shock her back into being alright again, then turned off the tap and sat on the floor, her back to the sink and her legs stretched out in front.

Only two more days to go, and then she could go back to her normal life.

Two more days of this, and she was free, and could eat as much cake as she wanted, because George and Lucy would be stuffing their faces too.

She just had to fake it until then.

part 3

Tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @locklyebrainrot, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop (I just realised I hadn't added you I'm so sorry 😭 although I don't know if you wanted to be added actually idkkk) @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

please let me know if I've missed you off the series tag list, and I'll put you right on! <3

[avocadorablepirate]

What Do We Call This? - 11

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Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Summary: On a quest to find what you've been looking for, you acquire the help of the Straw Hat pirates, who've agreed to let you temporarily join them. There are however many challenges that come along with your temporary recruitment - an alliance with a certain Trafalgar Law being one of them.

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn, swearing, the occasional OP spoiler, unwarranted sexual advances (from unnamed character), but nothing explicit

A/N: Okay so this is pretty terrible •_•, and will probably feel terribly rushed but I was struggling to write and then I had like one moment where everything just came out and I didn't want to think about it anymore. I'm just glad I managed to even write this part. Anyway, I hope you like it!

—⁠☆✿☆—⁠

You heaved a sigh as you untied the apron from around your waist. Yet another day of getting absolutely no information from Orochi's people. It had been this way since you got here, and the job was slowly starting to eat at you. While you had definitely done far worse than serve a bunch of rude customers, the discriminatory and sexual remarks were starting to get to you. Fortunately, the week was over, and you could go back to report to Kin'emon.

As you packed up your belongings and made your way to the back entrance, a strange yet familiar sensation washed over you. A blue orb surrounded you, pulling you abruptly from your surroundings.

"What the-"

The sudden shift in the room had you momentarily dizzy until your surroundings came into focus and you regained your balance. A glare took over your expression, but quickly softened as you realized it was Bepo who stood in front of you.

"Where is he?" you spoke through gritted teeth, anger simmering just below the surface. Right on cue, Law entered the room, his expression one of annoyance.

You're late," he stated flatly.

You crossed your arms, your irritation evident. "I was finishing my shift. You can't just teleport me like that! What if someone saw?" you snapped, your anger slowly bubbling over.

"You hadn't returned at the agreed time," Law said, his tone sharp and unyielding. "I had to make sure you were safe."

"I can handle myself, Law! You didn’t have to do that!" you retorted, your voice rising in frustration. Your irritation with him had been building since your arrival at Wano, and to Law's disappointment, you had yet again taken to ignoring him, only making him all the more agitated. But for you, having him be overprotective of you all over again only added fuel to your already burning rage.

Law's eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched in frustration, but he took a deep breath, attempting to keep his temper in check. "I did what I had to do to ensure your safety. One wrong move and the entire mission is ruined."

"Don't you think I know that? But this—this overprotectiveness is suffocating, Law. I’m not some fragile thing that needs constant guarding! It's like you don't trust me!" you yelled, your patience snapping under the pressure of his constant supervision.

Law's expression hardened, his eyes flashing with anger and something else—hurt, perhaps. "I'm only looking out for you. For the mission," he said, his voice quieter but no less intense.

"Just leave me alone Law. I can take care of myself," you replied coldly, turning away to find Kin'emon.

"(Y/N)-ya," Law called after you, but without another word you stormed out of the room. You knew this wasn't the end of your disagreements, but for now, you needed space - space to breathe, and to think.

_____________________________________________

Another week passed in a similar fashion. Each day, you would end up in the same back room, heaving a sigh as you felt the weight of the day's frustration lift slightly as your shift ended. Serving Orochi's people had become increasingly unbearable, yet you remained vigilant, hoping for a breakthrough.

As you packed up your things and made your way to the back alley of the restaurant, you couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched. It wasn't unusual, you had felt for sometime now that there was always someone watching you, and you had done well to not act suspicious, but this time it felt different. Your grip tightened on the hidden knife at your side, and you readied your hands to use your powers if necessary.

"Hey, you," a voice called out, breaking the silence. You turned around and against the dim lights of the alley saw a middle-aged man, leaning on the wall, glazed eyes and crooked smile suggesting he was drunk. You had heard from Kin'emon that there was a banquet at the palace today, but in a country where alcohol was banned, it was odd to see one of Orochi's men so openly intoxicated.

"You're not from here are you? Looking for information on Orochi, I'm guessing?"

You masked your surprise with a smile, taking a step back as you readied your knife, "What makes you think that?"

"No need to hide it. I'll give you what you want, but it'll cost you." You tried to hide your disgust as he stumbled towards you and reached out, his hand brushing against your arm, lingering a bit too long for your comfort.

"Sure, we can work something," you replied, taking another step back. But despite his inebriated state, he managed to swiftly grab onto you, grip tightening around your arm.

"Well I'm sure you can give me just what I want," he said, his voice low and slurred, eyes roaming over you suggestively. You felt a wave of revulsion, but you also couldn't shake the feeling of worry. You subtly tried to pry your arm free, but to no avail, his grip only tightening. Fortunately, your other hand was still free, and you began to focus on using your powers to take control of one of his muscles. But a flash of movement caught your attention, distracting you before you could lay your attack. In an instant the man was yanked off you.

"Get your hands off her," a familiar voice growled. You looked up to see Law, eyes blazing with fury as he threw the man against the wall.

The man scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with anger. "Who the hell are you?" he spat, drawing a knife.

In a swift movement, Law pulled out Kikoku, and the man found himself staring down the blade. But before Law could strike, you noticed a group of men emerging from the shadows, surrounding the two of you.

"Looks like we’ve got company," you muttered, slipping into a defensive stance.

"Shit," Law muttered under his breath, glancing around. He looked from you back to the group, considering his next move.

"You take those three, I'll take-" you began, but before you could finish, a blue orb enveloped you, and instantly you felt your blood begin to boil.

"Law-," you tried to yell at him, but he had already transported you to the hideout.

"Fuck!" you yelled, kicking at the wall in frustration.

"Y/N? What's wrong?" You turned to find Bepo, Sachi and Penguin looking at you concerned.

"Law's what's wrong! Your stupid captain got us into a fight and then transported me here!" you shouted, pacing back and forth, reeling in your anger. The three men remained silent, letting you rant as you tried to calm yourself.

When Law finally returned you turned to him with an evident glare. "What the hell were you thinking!?" you snapped, frustration and adrenaline making your voice sharp. Bepo, Sachi and Penguin immediately took that as their cue to leave.

"You blew my cover! God I thought I would at least last longer than Zoro!" you continued, your voice rising with each word.

Law's eyes flashed with anger, his jaw clenched, "I was thinking about your safety. He could have taken advantage of you!" he retorted, his voice equally heated.

"I could’ve handled it," you shot back, stepping closer to him. "Now we’ve lost a valuable lead because you couldn’t stop yourself from interfering."

"You've been there for weeks and I've not seen anyone come in there and just give you information! That guy was just there for you!" Law's frustration was evident, his voice rising to match yours. He couldn't understand why you were more focused on the mission than what could have almost happened to you.

His words echoed in your mind, and you suddenly recalled the feeling of constantly being watched. Something finally clicked. "You've been spying on me!? What the fuck Law!?" you exclaimed, disbelief mingling with your anger.

Law’s expression hardened, his frustration clear. "I’m not going to apologize for protecting you."

"This isn’t just about me! We’re on a mission, and you keep treating me like I’m incapable of doing my job," you snapped, your voice rising even more.

"You don't understand how dangerous this is," he countered, his voice low but intense. "If something happened to you—"

"Stop," you interrupted, shaking your head. "I don’t need your protection, Law. I need you to trust me to do my part."

Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, your heart pounding with frustration and hurt. You could feel Law's eyes on your back, but you refused to look back. From that moment on, you resolved to keep your distance from him, determined to prove that you could handle things on your own.

_____________________________________________

The days that followed before the raid on Onigashima were relatively quiet. Due to Law's actions, you were now both wanted criminals in Wano, and you were forced to stay within the confines of Oden's castle. However, you did what you could to be of help.

Law had also chosen to give you your space. Although you could tell by the way Bepo never seemed to leave your side that he was instructed by his captain to follow you around. It would have bothered you if not for how much you actually enjoyed the Mink's company. While he did try to help you out with every little thing, he at least didn't try to stop you from doing them which was far more tolerable than what Law did. Plus, he was fun to be around, his clumsiness always finding a way to make you laugh.

One evening, as you were sorting through a pile of supplies for the raid, Bepo approached you with a hesitant look.

"(Y/N), can we talk?" he asked, his voice gentle but concerned.

"Of course, Bepo. What's on your mind?" you replied, setting aside a box.

"I know you're upset with Captain," he began, shifting uncomfortably. "But he's only trying to protect you. He's worried about you, more than he lets on."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I know, Bepo. But it's hard to do my job when he keeps intervening. I need him to trust me, to believe that I can handle myself."

Bepo nodded slowly. "Maybe you should talk to him about it. Clear the air before our journey continues."

"What do you mean?" you asked, confused by the phrasing of his words. Bepo's eyes immediately widened as if he had said something he shouldn't have, and he shook his head furiously, "Nothing. I just mean that maybe it would be better to resolve things before the raid."

You considered his words. Despite your anger, you knew Bepo was right, but you had already made up your mind, you were not going to be the one to compromise. "Believe me Bepo I've tried countless time to get Law to see things from my perspective, and as much as I'd like to mend things between the two of us, I'm going to need some more time."

The Mink nodded his head in understanding, a little disappointed with your reply, but he hid it away, choosing to help you instead.

_____________________________________________

During the battle of Onigashima, you fought alongside the samurai of Wano and the members of the alliance. It had seemed that everyone was caught up in the battle, each one doing their best to win the fight against Kaido and Big Mom, and yet even in the thick of battle, you could sense Law's presence. Despite having to deal with his own battles, he still managed to keep an eye on you.

Your main task had been to keep the enemies away from Chopper as he tried to work on a cure, and you had been doing well so far. At one point, you found yourself surrounded by a group of formidable Beast Pirates. You readied your powers, preparing for a fight you knew would be challenging. As you engaged the enemies, you felt a sudden shift in the air. A blue orb appeared beside you, Law materializing in its place a second later, his nodachi slashing through the air to take down a pirate who had been aiming for your blind spot.

"I thought you were fighting Big Mom?" Despite being annoyed with his interference, you gave him a nod of acknowledgement before your attention shifted back onto the enemies.

Law sensing your displeasure with his appearance, heaved a sigh as he deflected a blow aimed at you. "I'm not here to undermine you," he replied curtly. "Just stay alive."

You gritted your teeth while you took control of the next pirate that had tried to lay an attack on you. Despite your best efforts to ignore him, Law continued to fight alongside you, a silent protector in the chaos. His actions were a paradox both frustrating and reassuring. Every time you thought you were about to be overwhelmed, he was there - helping you get back on your feet, but also proving that you needed his help.

The battle raged on, and you were separated from Law several times, each of you battling your own foes. Yet, no matter how far apart you were, he always seemed to find you, ensuring you were safe before moving on. His determination to protect you was unwavering, even if it irritated you to no end.

Finally, as the battle came to an end, you found yourself standing amidst the wreckage, exhausted and worn out. You could feel your legs start to buckle, the after math of using your powers starting to take its effect. As if he had a sixth sense, Law appeared beside you, his expression one of worry.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice a mix of concern and weariness as he helped you settle on the ground before you could fully collapse.

You nodded curtly, refusing to meet his gaze. "I'm fine."

Law hesitated, as if wanting to say more, but held himself back, instead scanning the area around you. "I'll get Bepo to help you."

_____________________________________________

The people of Wano were celebrating their freedom from the tyranny of Orochi and Kaido. The country was once again under the safe ruling of the Kozuki family. To celebrate their victory, a grand banquet was held throughout the country - lanterns lining the street and various different stalls everywhere you went.

You had taken to the streets with Chopper, Tama, and Nami, relishing in the music, laughter and food. And when that had become too much for you, you stood a little away, nursing a drink as you silently watched them excitedly make their way from one game stall to the next.

However, despite the celebratory atmosphere, you couldn't shake the lingering tension between you and Law. He had tried to approach you several times, but you always found a reason to move away, to avoid talking to him.

Law, however, was not one to give up easily. As the night wore on, he finally cornered you at one of the stalls, his expression serious.

"We need to talk," he said, his voice low to avoid drawing attention, as he gently pulled you along to a quieter part of the festival where the sounds of laughter and music were a distant hum.

You sighed, setting down your drink on a nearby barrel. "There's nothing to talk about, Law," you replied, your voice carrying a note of finality.

"Yes, there is," he insisted, stepping closer, his eyes searching yours. "We can't keep going like this."

You crossed your arms, your gaze fixed on a point beyond his shoulder, not wanting to meet his eyes. "You're right, we can't."

You contemplated your next words, you knew they would hurt, but you had come to the conclusion that your decision was for the best, even if you were still unsure of whether or not it was what you truly wanted. "Your alliance with the Straw Hats is over. That means you won't be sailing with them any longer." You paused to take a breath, hesitant to continue. "And since I'm onboard their ship that means we won't be sailing together any longer."

You kept your eyes averted from his, feeling the intensity of Law's gaze on you. His expression was a mix of disbelief and pain, and you knew looking at him would make you doubt your decision. While he hadn't directly asked you to join him, it had been something you thought would inevitably happen. You had spent almost as much time with him as you had with the Straw Hats, and to say that you hadn't grown fond of each other's company despite the arguments, would be a lie.

"It works out," you continued, trying to sound firm. "This way, you don't need to protect me, and I don't get frustrated with your overprotectiveness."

Law's eyes narrowed, his face a mixture of worry and hurt. "(Y/N)-ya that's- that's not what I meant," Law started, desperation creeping into his voice.

"It's for the best Law. This way, I can continue looking for my island, and you can continue with your mission. Neither of us will come in each other's way." You could see the reflection of festival lights in his eyes, now dulled by the sadness you had inflicted. You noticed his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, a sign of his internal struggle. His usually stoic demeanor was shattered, replaced by a vulnerability that tugged at your heart.

"But (Y/N)-ya-" he tried to interject, his voice laced with urgency.

"I'll see you later, Law," you said quickly, cutting him off before he could say more and change your mind. "Maybe if we get the chance, we'll see each other in the future." Without giving him a chance to respond, you turned and walked away, your heart heavy with the weight of your decision. You knew it was the best choice given how things were between the two of you, but that didn't make it any easier.

_____________________________________________

A/N: this might actually come as a surprise, but the next part will probably be the last part. I've written the ending, and kinda just need to add one or two parts before that. But if it ends up being too long then maybe I'll split it into two parts. Who knows, we'll see how it goes ┐⁠(⁠ ⁠˘⁠_⁠˘⁠)⁠┌.

taglist: @trafalgardaria @deathsmajestysworld @cottoncandyloverrrr @magnificenttaledreamland @kitsunechan707

[i520u]

11:11 𓂅𓏲•₊˚

NINE. 21:37

Sungchan is what you would call a fair-weathered friend. You can’t for the life of you remember when was the last time he was ever there for you when you were at your worst, in the context of as your friend. Then again, you can’t fully blame him either. He has university, you met him through Kamden—your neighbour. You never exactly sought out for him when you were at your worst. Why would you? You have Minjeong and Yizhuo. On top of that, your brother, Hanbin has been a great pillar throughout your whole life.

But yes, Sungchan had never been there on days where you could hardly get out of bed. Hardly eat, shower, and open your phone. Days where you force your body to sleep even when it’s not tired, even when it has rested for too long. 

You wondered why you were recalling these memories as you watched Sungchan climb up the remaining steps on the staircase, your favourite takeout in his hands, a genuine smile on his face. You currently weren’t at your worst in that moment, so why was your brain reminding you of all those times?

Rather than feeling sombre by the sudden waves of memories, you were glad that he was here now. Even if you weren’t exactly at your lowest, you still felt pretty shitty. You’ve always been slightly more self-aware about yourself than you let it out to be. You’ve always been a little more sensitive than most people, even if you do a good job at pretending you’re not because your self-awareness tells you that you’re annoying if you show others that you were hurt by something as minor as a slight change of demeanour from them towards you.

“Elevator’s under maintenance again?” Was the first thing he said once he reached your side, pointing towards the lift, where the indicator read ‘OUT OF ORDER’ in capital red letters. You turned to look at where he was pointing, and nodded absentmindedly. You weren’t sure why you felt a surge of calmness with Sungchan standing right in front of you. Because, hey, it’s Jung fucking Sungchan. You weren’t sure how he had managed to tune down all those loud, bad memories that were playing in your head just seconds ago. You were confused by it.

“Sorry for making you take the stairs to the sixth floor.” You scratched the back of your head awkwardly, “not a problem. I’ve been through worse.” Sungchan’s tone was lighthearted as he gently ruffled your hair, not enough to make a mess out of it, but enough to make you smile a little.

He walked past you, placing the takeout he bought on the countertop while you closed the door and let it lock by itself. “I bought you a little something, because I feel like I was responsible for triggering your insecurity.” Sungchan frowned, at himself in particular. “Sorry, Y/N.” He added as he motioned for you to sit by him at the countertop.

As you made your way towards him, you also absentmindedly shook your head at his words, “I was the nosy one. Plus, I was just being overly dramatic over the phone.” You reassured him, climbing onto the tall chairs by the countertop. “Yeah but, considering how long we’ve known each other, I should’ve been a little more careful with what I say.” Sungchan countered, he took a bite from the french fry he had in between his fingers.

You let out a sigh as you unwrapped your own food, staring at it blankly. “You shouldn’t, though.” You murmured, your voice so quiet that people would’ve thought that you were just mumbling to yourself. Sungchan surprisingly heard you, though. “Why’s that?” He asked, sliding the drink he bought for you towards you. You shrugged, taking your eyes off of the food and back to him. “I should know these things. So that I wouldn’t bother them any more than I have. The last thing I’d want is to mistakenly interpret just how comfortable people are with me.” Your voice was calm, but your mind was a little bit of a mess.

It wasn’t directed towards Gyuvin, it’s directed to the fact that something like this had happened to you too many times. You knew you shouldn’t fully judge Gyuvin’s entire personality just from the two screenshots that Sungchan sent. Plus, he probably said that before the whole incident happened to him—before he had the chance to get to know you better. What was bothering you was something more internal. It was the possibility of Gyuvin still feeling that way even after getting to know you.

You let out a soft groan as you thought of that outcome. “Do you think I’m loud?” You asked without meeting his eyes, almost like you were embarrassed to admit that you were aware of this—you’ve always been aware, you just never let people know that you acknowledge it. Sungchan’s eyes slowly glanced at you from his own food, his chewing becoming slightly slow as if the gears in his head were slowly moving as he constructed a proper sentence to your question.

“Loud?” Was the only thing he ended up saying—or rather, asking. You nodded, still adamant on not meeting his eyes. Sungchan exhaled slowly from his nose, “are you embarrassed to ask that?” He asked, almost like he could see right through you. It was weird, really. Sungchan was the last person you’d ever consider emotionally intelligent. Yet, there he was, reading through your body language.

You didn’t feel like dragging the conversation by beating around the bush any longer, so you just nodded. “Why? Is it a bad thing to be loud?” He asked, like he was actually confused with why you would feel embarrassed about your own personality. “You’re not overwhelmingly loud, not in the sense that it’s obnoxious. You’re just talkative. It’s not a bad thing to be chatty.” Sungchan added before you could even answer his first question.

You weren’t sure what to say to that. He was giving you words of comfort, but at the same time he wasn’t denying that you’re loud. You also kinda knew him enough to have doubts in your head on whether he’s actually nice or not. You can’t help but be sceptical about Sungchan, because while you do know that he’s been a great friend to Kamden, and even to yourself—you’ve known him longer as a boyfriend rather than a friend. And god knows how bad of a boyfriend he was.

‘Maybe it’s different,’ a small voice in your head would tell you, and you cave in each time. Maybe it is different. Bad boyfriends don't equate to bad friends, after all. So you decided to trust his words. Not him, but his words. He was offering them out of kindness and respect for how you were feeling at the moment, and you should accept them.

“Right, chatty.” You nodded finally, after much pondering, “Yizhuo said the same thing too.” You added, finally taking a bite on the food that he bought that was only turning colder the longer you played with it. Sungchan nodded, almost relieved to see you reacting positively to what he had said. “She’s right.” Sungchan reassured again, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his hand giving it a light squeeze. 

You took notice that that was the first time he ever initiated any physical contact that day, and you wondered if your previous break up–one where you swore that you and him will never get back together ever again–had taken a toll on both you and him. Because for once, Sungchan seemed a little more reserved and less touchy compared to all the other times that you both had broken up with each other. 

You don’t take it negatively, though. Maybe this was for the best. You and Sungchan, just friends. You don’t have to beg for his attention because he’s not entitled to give it to you all the time, and he doesn’t have to keep complaining about you being too touchy with some other guy.

“But she’s also pretty.” You added, and the momentary relief that Sungchan had was gone as fast as it came. “Minjeong and Yizhuo are also loud, but they’re pretty. People often notice their looks first before their personality. Then there’s me, everyone calls me loud first, before the ‘hey, you’re kinda pretty.’” You find yourself rambling. Sungchan wasn’t sure what to say to that, but he knew he shouldn’t leave your rambles unanswered. “You’re pretty too.” He said.

While the compliment felt nice, it didn’t go unnoticed to you that he still didn’t deny that you were loud—and possibly annoying.

“Do you think we were toxic towards each other? As a couple?” You asked, yet another random but heavy question thrown onto Sungchan. Despite being taken aback, he didn’t flinch at your question. “Maybe.” He answered softly, his arm still around you, “but, I had fun. You were fun.” He smiled, the hand on your shoulder went up to ruffle your hair gently again. “You’re really feeling gloomy, huh?” Sungchan chuckled softly, “let me take care of you until your brother comes home. I don’t think we should leave that mind of yours all by itself. Don’t want you self-sabotaging, right?”

You chuckled at his words, you wondered how he knew all of this about you, because you swore that he never cared enough to know your habits. Your patterns when you feel insecure. To be honest, you didn’t even feel that shitty anymore about Gyuvin. It’s just that your brain was just… purposely making you feel sad with all your past regrets. It was just one of those days—that you’ll undoubtedly get over the moment you wake up in the morning the next day.

Though, a thought came to mind just when you were starting to feel comfortable around his presence. Sungchan is a fair-weathered friend.

masterlist | previous | next

SYNOPSIS -͟͟͞☆ gyuvin tells himself that he’ll be okay, and losing friends is a part of growing up. he firmly believes that having to move schools in a different city was the universe telling him to try again. he then meets you, and he hates you. he knows he should be thankful that you saved his life, but every time he sees you, he gets annoyed.

NOTE -͟͟͞☆ thank you to my bff vivi again for helping me improvise this chapter 😜 also i feel like the story is going a little slowly so i’m gonna do something about it soon…

🏷️ ; @lluvjjun @p-romise9 @daydreamer5006 @gvuyin @jayujus @meoszn @lovefooi @mins-fins @qunwooks @gyuvinfan @annoyingbitch83 @ilovegyuvin @igotkpoops @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @purerehua @xinxinyy @rickysgfundercover @loverb0yz @keita-luv @nonamenonamenon @sunoosluvr @flor206-blog1 @j4dorebooks @rksbae @alwayswook @idkwatodoanymore @livelaughlovelicky @dimplewonie @kdjdh @antwe @andsjun @soobiverse @jiseokzzz @countmekocho @minkkumaz @cowsidfk @softyminhee @raeewe @girlokarina @ihrtjeongin @hanjisbeloved @jiaant11 @ilovechanhee @keilovr @bbangricz @444yizhuo @qnrui @wave2love @iraa567 @backzuhaz @jakahbot @satoreu @doobinnies @yizhuotv @manduhao @onlyhoons @kyanmeai @taereae @beomibeom @poollabug @ilovewonyo @eternallyhyucks @ajybeo

[skyward-floored]

Link trots down one of the many hallways of the castle, glad he’s finally free from standing around listening to grownups talk. Some of the talking had been interesting, but most of it had been extremely boring, and there was a whole castle that needed poking around in.

Link came here practically every day with Sir Ulysses, sticking by his side and helping him with errands and small jobs, or whatever else he was doing. But he rarely got to poke around by himself, and he was more then glad to find a spot to take a break from all the boring talking.

Link peeks into a spacious, sunny hallway, face brightening as he realizes it’s completely empty. He looks around once more, just to be sure, then makes a beeline for the carpet that sits under one of the large windows, flopping in the beam of sunlight that’s warming it and smiling as the rays fall on his face.

The autumn sunshine was still plenty warm and bright, though Link knew that soon enough the fainter beams that signaled winter would be here, awful as they were. Not nearly warm enough and chilly temperatures everywhere— he wasn’t looking forward to it.

But for now, the warmth from the autumn light is plenty enough for Link, and he sighs contentedly.

None of the other kids he knew really understood why he liked lying on the floor in the sunshine so much, and Link didn’t know how to explain it. He just... felt better if he let the sun warm him for a while. The warmth and light made him happy, and lying on the floor was the best way to soak it in. Especially in spots like this, where the carpet was plush, and the sun shone brightly through the window.

...Technically he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to be up here, but he couldn’t resist. Especially since he hadn’t had time to sunbathe for nearly a week now. He could practically feel himself cheering up with every second he spent here.

Link closes his eyes, sun falling across his face, and he smiles as he stretches out with a soft hum.

“Careful you don’t get stepped on, boy.”

Link jumps, nearly hitting his chin on the floor as he shoots into a sitting position at the somewhat amused voice.

He looks up and comes face-to-face with white hair and tanned skin, red ink tattooed across an eye, and Link feels his stomach drop out as he realizes Impa, Princess Zelda’s bodyguard and one of the Sheikah who might get chosen to be leader of her whole tribe, had just caught him sprawling on the floor in a hallway he wasn’t supposed to be in.

Link swallows thickly. He hadn’t heard her coming at all, even though he’d been purposefully listening for any footsteps. Sheikah really were quiet.

“Did you hear me boy? I nearly stepped on you, you need to mind your surroundings,” she says, and Link swallows again, and gives her a tiny nod.

Impa studies him for a second, expression unreadable, and Link thinks his heart just might beat out of his chest.

“What is your name?”

“L-Link, ma’am,” he manages to peep out, and Impa looks at him a moment, her red eyes piercing.

They look surprisingly warm in the sunlight too, but Link is too terrified to notice, mind whirling with all of the punishments she might bring down on him. What was the penalty for sitting in a hallway you weren’t supposed to be sitting in, and almost getting stepped on by the princess’ bodyguard? The stocks? Whipping? The dungeons? Would he be kicked out of Hyrule all together, forced to wander the edges of the kingdom all by himself for forever?!

“Relax, Link, you’re not in trouble.”

The words startle him from his thoughts, and he looks up at Impa again, her arms crossed, but tone light.

“This hallway is quiet now, but it won’t always be. It’s quite likely you’ll be trod on if you remain here. If you want to sunbathe in it I won’t stop you, but perhaps a more out of the way spot would be wise,” she says, glancing out the window. “I’d suggest the library. Try the corner near the southern side.”

Link blinks, still unsure she isn’t going to drag him away and toss him in the dungeons, but Impa strides away before he can formulate a response.

The moment she’s gone, Link scrambles out of the sunbeam and away from the hallway, his heart still pounding in his chest. He’d never been so near to the Princess’s bodyguard before, only seen her from a distance once or twice, and she was twice as scary up close.

Not to mention the red of her eyes, and the piercing, stern look on her face...

Link shivers and decides to forget having any sunbeam time at all for the day, and go back to Sir Ulysses early. He’d take boring talking over being stared at like that any day.

His path takes him past the library, and he pauses, Impa’s words coming back to him. He wasn’t actually supposed to go back to Sir Ulysses just yet, not for another hour or two, and Impa had suggested he go in. And if someone so high-ranking had told him it was okay, then it must be okay, right?

Link cautiously pokes a head in, and when nobody yells at him to go away, walks slowly inside.

He’d only been in here a handful of times, usually only if he’d been sent on an errand. It had always seemed too stuffy for his tastes, but Link decides to listen to Impa’s suggestion, and walks over to where she said there would be a good spot.

He’s definitely never been in this section before, and it doesn’t look like it’s used much either, the shelves dusty and quiet. Nobody much is in here this time of day, especially not in this corner, and Link nearly has the whole library to himself, the shelves quiet and calm.

Turning a corner, Link blinks in the sudden bright sunshine that spills into the room, illuminating the small particles of dust in the air. He zeroes in on the window where the light is shining in from, and perks up, immediately running over to it.

There’s a seat built into the window itself, soft and plush-looking, and Link jumps up onto it, grinning in delight at the sunshine pouring over him. He pokes at the seat a moment, feeling how soft it is, and looks out at the view below, the training yard where he was supposed to meet Sir Ulysses later just barely visible.

Then he flops down, a warm feeling spreading all over him.

This was way better then any hallway carpet— twice as soft, and in a secluded spot as well where he wouldn’t be bothered or stepped on or laughed at, it was perfect.

He wondered how Impa had known this would be the perfect spot. Did she like to soak up the sun’s rays as well? Or maybe she knew someone else who did?

Oh well. It didn’t matter.

Link smiles to himself and closes his eyes, feeling the warmth from the sun begin to sink into his skin, and lets out a happy sigh.

This spot really was perfect.

[mouwrites]

HEYY POOKIEE!!!! I had an idea from the movie, so basically the reader being the ninja's little sibling who don't get along at all. They fight over the smallest things at school and at home. That's until one day while Garmadon attacks the reader gets captured and the ninja has to save the reader, which accidentally causes the ninja to reveal their identity and the reader just gives their sibling a big hug and apologizes for everything they've said in the past and they up!!!

Okay that's it TYSM HAVE A NICE DAY OR NIGHT AND REMEMBER TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF POOKIEE💛💛💛🤍🤍🤍

Yes of course!! <33

Ninjago - Ninjas When You (Their Little Sibling) Are Taken

Kai

Kai pretended like he didn’t care when he first saw you were taken

But he was determined to get you back; in reality, he did indeed care

He was ready to do whatever it took to get you back

He fell blindly into a trap, finding himself restrained by one of Garmadon’s goons

They pulled off his mask, but his face remained hardened

He snapped at his captor, taking advantage of their brief moment of shock at seeing his face

He left his mask forgotten on the ground, rushing to your aid

He lifted you in his arms and booked it to safety

He paused on a rooftop to catch his breath

You decided to take the opportunity to apologize

The words didn’t come easy, but you finally found them

“Kai… I’m sorry. For everything. For the mask, for everything I’ve said—”

“It’s okay, Y/n. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

After that day you made an effort to be nicer to him, difficult as it was

He tried to keep his temper in check too

You silently appreciated each others’ efforts, but the fruits were even more precious

Your relationship started to shift ever so subtly, but it was doubtlessly improving

Jay

Jay was terrified when you got involved

It was like he forgot your terrible relationship entirely

He clumsily rushed to your aid, his skills crumbling under the weight of his anxiety

He ended up pinned down, and his assailant roughly pulled off his mask

His face turned bright red as he was exposed, and in a sudden burst of panicked energy he was able to push them off

He nabbed his mask quickly before remembering his original mission

Then he jumped back into action, managing to retrieve you and find a safe place to hide

He grabbed you by the shoulders, turning you from side to side to check for injuries

“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“Jay, I’m so sorry! I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I? Oh, I’ve been so horrible…”

He couldn’t deny that you had been pretty bad

But he also admitted that he was no better

You shared a hug

In that moment, you formed a new bond

You both started to act nicer from then on

That hug established a new norm of tenderness between you two :)

Lloyd

He was mostly miffed when you were taken

He directed his anger at his father for getting you involved

So he went into battle with a fury he often felt when facing Garmadon

But this time it was extra personal

He confronted Garmadon directly, making a snide comment about treating his children like chess pieces

He pulled off his mask to prove the point, too angry to think clearly

Garmadon was so shocked that Lloyd was pretty much able to walk away with you

He marched away angrily, dragging you behind

He started to vent about Garmadon

After you got over your shock, you started agreeing with him, even adding your own complaints

When he was done he just huffed, burying his face in his palm

You saw that tears were dribbling onto his glove

“Um, Lloyd? I just wanted to say sorry… we don’t really have the best family dynamic, and I… I don’t want our relationship to be like the one we have with our dad.”

“Me neither. I really do love you, you know.”

“Same here.”

You embraced, vowing to be better

And you both made a valiant effort, using your father as a sort of anti-example

As it turned out, he was a strong motivator; your relationship improved quite steadily from then on

Cole

As much as he might’ve disliked you, he knew he had to save you

He couldn’t live with himself otherwise

So he hurried into the thick of the battle, his eyes locked on you all the while

He was secretly worried they’d hurt you, though he’d hesitate to admit it

He was distracted; it wasn’t long until an opponent grabbed a sudden hold of his mask

He whipped around, downing the assailant in a single blow and grabbing his mask

But he didn’t take the time to put it on, simply tucking it into his belt while he ran to your aid

The hardened look in his eyes made you feel especially guilty

You could only imagine how angry he was, having to save you and then having his identity revealed in the process

But when you were alone, he asked with surprising softness if you were okay

The look on his face had softened, too

Still, you felt guilty

“I’m fine. Um… I’m really sorry, Cole. This was all my fault..!”

“What? No, it was Garmadon’s doing. I’m not mad at you, Y/n. You’re my family. I love you, little rascal that you are.”

He ruffled your hair roughly, making you giggle

You wrapped your arms around him suddenly

He slowly hugged you back

In that moment you shared a silent agreement to be better

It might not have been spoken, but you both held fast to that agreement, and slowly your relationship did improve :)

Zane

The second you got involved, Zane’s objective was to save you

You were more important to him than anything: his pride, the mission, anything

He forgot everything else, abandoning his current task to rush over to you

In his haste, the opponent he was running from managed to catch his mask

He ran without realizing that the mask had come off

Even your flabbergasted gaze didn’t clue him in

The stares he was getting didn’t even register as he carried you away from danger

When you were alone, he mechanically asked if you were okay

You just stared at him, the image of a thousand eyes on you as you ran stuck in your mind

“Zane, your identity… I’m so sorry, if I had never been taken..!”

“Why are you apologizing? It was not your fault. I’m just glad that you’re safe. You’re my family, and I care for you greatly.”

You blinked at him, cursing the tears that came to your eyes

He hugged you, and through your tears you told him that you loved him too

After that, you decided to try and be nicer to him

He matched your efforts as soon as he noticed them; he was more than ready to fix your relationship

After all, you were his top priority ;)

Nya

She was incredulous when you were captured

She took it sort of personally

This fueled her rage, and she went on a war path to save you

She threw you over her shoulder; saving you was how she was measuring her victory

With you in her arms, she was satisfied

In her mind, she’d already won

Which made her getaway a little sloppy, and she ended up losing her mask to an especially quick assailant

She was frozen in shock and horror for a moment

Then she ran, faster than ever before

She practically collapsed as she set you down, chest heaving from the exertion as much as the panic

But she calmed herself, reminding herself that she saved you

Exhaling slowly, she straightened and put a hand on your shoulder

“Nya, I’m sorry! I never meant for any of this to happen! I love you too much… even though I don’t act like it…”

“All that matters is that you’re safe. And, for the record, I love you too.”

You shared a little smirk, a secret understanding established between you two

Knowing that you really did love each other seemed to soften the tension between you two

Teasing turned into jokes as your relationship gradually mended :)

Thanks for this request!! And thanks for reading, take care honey bears <33

(divider by saradika)

[anincompletelist]

happy wip wednesday! :D

once again got caught up in the excitement of finishing up bridesmaids so have not gotten a chance to read through these yet, but THANK YOU to @getmehighonmagic @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @priincebutt @onthewaytosomewhere @kiwiana-writes @suseagull04 @orchidscript @nocoastposts @littlemisskittentoes @ninzied FOR THE TAGS! I am looking forward to getting my popcorn ready and reading through all of your lovely words <3

this snippet is longer than I thought (oops) but I've been keeping this one pretty close to my chest and it has been clawing at the bars of its enclosure (the Docs) to get out into the world so HERE SHE IS:

+

“With all due respect,” Alex hesitates, “if this client needs to remain so confidential, would you not just want to… ask them what they’d want? Cut out the middle man?” He readjusts the phone where it’s caught between his ear and his shoulder, stuffing the last of the groceries into his trunk. The pay-off really would be nice. “Not that I’m turning down the job at all.” 

Bea sighs. “That’s the thing, though— he already has everything he could possibly want. It isn’t— he doesn’t much care for material things, save for a few sentimental items he already has. I’ve tried to throw him parties and I’ve tried to work with his best friend to come up with something and I’ve gotten and made him one of everything known to man and it just—” she huffs, cutting herself off. “He would never act ungrateful for anything, but he— these past few years have been difficult for him and I haven’t been as present as I should be and I know a gift isn’t going to magically make up for that but birthdays are hard for him he just deserves something really, really good.” 

“Um,” Alex blinks at the concrete. 

“God, I’m so sorry. I’ve just given you a shitload of information that you never asked for, haven’t I?” 

“No, that’s— this is good. I can work with this,” he clears his throat, nodding to himself. “And I get the whole wanting-them-to-have-something-good thing, especially when it’s a sibling.” 

Bea’s line goes silent for a moment. “... Had I mentioned that it was my brother?” 

“Oh,” he blinks, gripping the phone a bit harder, “well, no. I don’t think so. I’m sorry for assuming, I just— you were talking about him the same way my sister talks about me so I just—” 

“Alex, please,” she laughs softly. “It’s alright. I’m glad that you haven’t already hung up on me, to be honest. I’m a bit all over the place at the moment.” 

“Maybe we should get that NDA out of the way before we continue then. Then you can feel free to be as unhinged as you want.” 

She snorts. “Yes, perhaps we should.” 

“Although, if you don’t mind, I always ask my clients how they found me for research purposes. So, can I ask—?” 

“As it turns out, professional gift-giving is a highly specific occupation, and you seem to be about the only legitimate looking one that managed to come up in the Google results.”

+

OPEN TAG OPEN TAG but also! @firenati0n @affectionatelyrs @inexplicablymine @msmarvelouswinchester @bigassbowlingballhead @read-and-write- @happiness-of-the-pursuit @iboatedhere @matherines @sparklepocalypse @firstprincexo @raysletters @cricketnationrise @eusuntgratie @anchoredarchangel @rmd-writes <3333

[asamitakamybeloved]

Blind Commentary of Dandadan Ep 1

Howdy, I managed to remain completely unspoiled for Dandadan with the exception of one detail noted below. Click below the cut to see my reactions to Episode 1.

Dandadan Ep 1 Reactions

first off, stunning visuals for the OP and it's very funny to me that the background rhythm is the singer just going "Dandadan" over and over

It feels very much like MP100

I like the friend who has vitiligo (or maybe just does reverse panda makeup)

I am incredibly charmed by Momo but I wasn't expecting her to be boycrazy. I think it's refreshing to see her be of a popular-pretty-girl feminine persuasion

LOLOL she doesn't even know his name

I hate otaku-kun. I knew a guy who acted like that in high school and his arrogance and sense of superiority were off the charts

I already liked Momo, but her backstory endeared me to her even more. What a sweetheart

I came into this show almost fully blind: the only thing I knew was that there is a grandma who wants to give a sexual favor. And boy am I glad I had that heads up because seeing that line be delivered on screen did NOT make me happy. Gross

The way they did turbo granny's pupils was a great touch

The transitions between Momo and the mirror are beautifully slick and the moment the windows start shutting off like floodlights was fantastically executed. Then they ripped her shirt and I wanted to kill the author. Typical

... you know i really came into this show blind when my bafflement at what the Serpoians were gonna do to Momo left me speechless. I was planning to watch this show with another person but this scene has ensured that that is NEVER going to happen

I cheered when I realized otaku-kun was emerging from the phone

Strangely, I think she loses her sparkle when she has long hair. I love how distinctive her character design is and that's lost when she's being all glowy and powerful

That's right babygirl, give em hell. Kill those men

I am OBSESSED with the animation when she removed the turbo granny from his body. And not to be gross but I love how his limbs have been all messed up since he got here

Oh I love that trope of a guy giving a girl something to wear. Okay chadtaku-kun I see you

WHAT DO YOU MEAN HIS NAME IS TAKAKURA KEN????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Bonus: I am going to kill myself for this creature

[bullet-prooflove]

The Finder: Duke Crocker x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @trublu2u @aiko24k @magic-multicolored-miracle

When you’d first turned up in Haven you’d called yourself a P.I, Duke knows better these days, the more appropriate term would be a ‘Finder’. You have an exceptional gift for locating missing people, it’s that that brought you to Haven in the first place.

You’d been on the trail of your friend Jim Delaney, a man who had simply stepped out of your life one day and vanished into thin air. You’d managed to track him all the way here to Maine.

Using your less than savoury connections you’d discovered that Duke had been the one to smuggle him out of Boston. Jim’s Trouble had started to manifest physically and he’d had to cash in a favour from an old friend to spirit him away. It was safer for everyone, Jim had told you when you’d showed up at the houseboat Duke had set him up with.

It's seeing your compassion that makes Duke realise that you’re something special. Jim’s Trouble had disfigured him, rendered him practically unrecognisable to the man you once knew. However that didn’t seem to faze you. When you realised he was getting sicker, that his affliction was terminal  you had set up yourself up in Haven and liquidating your business assets so that you could afford to make Jim more comfortable during his remaining few months.

“Who is he to you?” Duke had asked one night when the two of you were walking alongside each other on the beach. “Why come all the way out here to find him? Why choose to stay?”

“He’s my friend.” You say simply. “He gave me a chance when nobody else would.”

He’s doesn’t quite understand what that means until the night Jim passes away. The two of you are sipping from a forty year old single malt that he  would have loved when you find yourself telling Duke how Jim saved you.

“I was living on the streets trying to escape a bad situation. I left with the clothes on my back and a couple of dollars I’d managed to take from my boyfriend’s wallet.” You tell him as you lay on a blanket, staring up at the stars. “I couldn’t go to the shelter because I knew he would find me so I started sleeping rough, trying to stay one step ahead of him until I could find a way to earn that wasn’t…”

You trail off then and Duke’s fingers thread through yours because he’s had to do some pretty terrible things to survive and now he knows you have too. He doesn’t judge you for it. He’s just glad you’re out of that situation, that you’re safe.

“He hired Jim to find you didn’t he?” he says into the darkness.

“Yea.” You say softly. “Jim, he took one look at the bruises, the doorway I was sleeping in, the clothes I was wearing…”

“And he saw you.” Duke says knowingly because Jim, he had done something similar for him just after Simon Crocker had died. He had been a lonely, messed up kid when Jim had taken him under his wing, helped him find his feet.

“He got me out of the city, set me up with a new identity, a job, a life.” You say softly, your voice breaking just a little. “He didn’t want anything, he didn’t expect anything, he just did it…”

“That’s who he was.” Duke says quietly as he shifts onto his side, propping his head up on his arm. “He couldn’t stand to see someone in distress, he couldn’t help himself…”

You turn to face him and he can see the agony in your eyes because Jim, he was a more than just a friend to you, he was a mentor, a father figure, the man who saved your life.

Without him you’re alone in the world all over again and Duke knows how hard that is, how untethered and isolated it makes you feel. His thumb ghosts over your cheek, chasing away the tears that stain your cheeks. He’s known you for just four months but already it feels like a life time.

“We’re gonna take care of each other alright?” He whispers to you as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “It’s you and me, no matter what happens. We’ll take care of each other.”

The two of you stay up, swapping stories about Jim into the early hours of the morning. You laugh, you cry and finally you fall asleep curled up against Duke, your head resting on his chest as you listen to the sound of his heartbeat. He draws the blanket up around your shoulders, tucking it around your body as he holds you close. You’re gone when he awakens, the scent of your perfume and the sea clinging to his skin.

You don’t come back for three weeks and when you do it's one in the morning.

He’s asleep when you let yourself into his bedroom, he wakes up to the aroma of jasmine and sunshine, it floods his senses as you join him underneath the covers. He thinks he’s dreaming at first but his dreams, they’re never this sweet.

“Tell me you’ve missed me.” You whisper as you strip off your shirt and his calloused palms chase over your bare skin.

“I have thought about you every damn day.” He murmurs into the curve of your throat as he helps you undress.

He makes love to you that night, his lips trailing over your naked form as the sound of the waves crash in his ears.

When he wakes up it’s to an empty bed. He sighs, burying his face into your pillow because this isn’t one of his usual one night affairs. He actually cares about you, the feelings he has, they’ve been there since the day you turned up on his boat peppering him with questions about Jim.

When he steps out onto his deck that morning he doesn’t expect to see you sitting there, wearing one of his shirts and a pair of his boots. You’re perched in his chair, sipping tea from a chipped mug and reading one of those mystery novels that you love so much.

Haven, he thinks as he lingers in the doorway, the edges of his mouth turning into a smile. It just has this way of giving people what they need, especially when they least expect it.

Love Duke? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[randoimago]

Day 13. Selkie Rohan x Reader

note(s): Rohan and Selkie is definitely an interesting combo and I hope I wrote this alright!

requested by anon

Rohan wasn’t really looking for romance or anything of the sort. Humans fascinated him and gave inspiration for his stories. So shedding his skin and living as a human was easy for him where it may be difficult for others of his kind.

Of course, once he started growing famous from the manga he’d write and draw, he needed someone to manage his schedules and things. There are still many human concepts that he doesn’t grasp or care to take time to understand. And that led to him hiring you.

He didn’t really speak to you in the beginning, figuring you’d be like other humans that saw him as a pretty face. Rohan would sometimes give you specific orders, but besides that he let you handle things. Your resume was good enough that he had trust in you, so long as you listened.

Over time, Rohan grew more curious about you. He’d ask questions, learn about things you enjoyed. Sometimes he’d bring up ridiculous hypotheticals just to see your reaction. Although none of your reactions were as funny as when he’d “waste” money on things like a third house somewhere that’s supposedly haunted.

Rohan should’ve known that your curiosity as his… maid? Manager? Whatever job title you had. He has enough money and your resume is good enough to handle a lot of things he doesn’t have time for. But, he should’ve known that your human curiosity would get the better of you.

There was one room he told you to stay out of. But his trust grew in you and so he asked you to get him some art supplies from the room, so long as you didn’t snoop around. Maybe it is partially his fault for not specifying where the supplies were.

Rohan heard you muttering before you came back into his office, holding up his shedded skin with a look on your face like it was gross.

“Is this from another animal you killed just for inspiration?” You ask him and he rolls his eyes.

“You make it sound like I steal people’s pets and kill them.” He ignored the pointed look on your face. “That’s just my skin, go put it back.”

“Your… skin?”

“Yes, I’m glad you can hear.”

He recognized the annoyance on your face from his lack of clarifying. Rohan just let out a sigh as he finally gives you his full attention. “It’s a long story. We’d need to go to the beach for me to explain.”

“Did you kill a seal?” A smirk crosses Rohan’s face at your question.

“You’re getting warmer, but I promise I hadn’t killed anything.” He watches as you seem confused, annoyed, then finally tired of dealing with him being cryptic.

“Fine, don’t answer my question,” you say and turn away. “I have half a mind to throw this away.” He hears you mutter and a look of panic crosses his face. You have thrown away the remains of some mice he’s had as well as snake shed. He would not put it past you to throw out something else you deem as him not needing anymore.

Rohan stands and before you can blink, he has you against the wall, his hands on either side of his head. He’s not trying to intimidate you, especially with the look in his eyes.

“Do not throw it away. I can’t lose it,” he tells you, an almost pleading in his voice. While he has lived most of his life as a human, the sea still calls to him. The idea of losing his skin and being unable to ever go home is torture.

“Rohan, you’re acting weirder than usual.”

He lets out a sigh and looks at you. For a second, he’s curious about the reaction you’d make if he leaned in. But there are more important things to think about and so he steps back, giving you your space.

“How versed are you in mythology and folklore?”

“… Like dragons?”

Rohan makes a face. “Dragons, really?” You look annoyed again and he sighs. “Do you know what a selkie is?” He asks, deciding it’d be easier than having you tell him whatever myths you know of.

“Selkie? I think I’ve heard some people mention something about them living in the water.”

Rohan nods at your words. Considering how close the water is to this town, he’s not surprised that there are murmurs of selkie.

“Well, it’s what I am. That skin you’re holding is mine. I had to shed it to be able to pass as a human.” You look unsure about his words. You probably think he’s lost it.

“It’d explain how eccentric you are.” Rohan makes a face at your words.

“Eccentric? I’m perfectly normal.” He ignores your look again. “If you don’t believe me, we can go to the ocean and I can show you,” he adds, reminding you of that option. You still look unsure.

—

“It’s too cold to be at the beach, Rohan,” you complain and he ignores it as he holds his skin and walks closer to the water. A sigh of relief hits him as he steps into the water, always feeling relief when he comes back, and the skin in his hand begins to stick to him.

The transformation takes a moment and as Rohan treads the ocean water, he looks to where you’re standing on the beach, wide eyed and looking as if you’ve seen something unbelievable.

“This is my true form,” Rohan tells you, unable to help a smirk at your reaction. If he knew this is how you’d act then he’d have taken you to the beach years ago.

“What the fuck, Rohan.” Well you’re still functioning at least.

“Like I told you, I’m a selkie. Go to a library or something to learn more,” he says and rolls his eyes playfully at you. The water always does make him feel a bit more mischievous than usual. “I’m hungry. Want me to catch you a fish?”

Oh your reaction is priceless at that.

It’s rather amusing trying to answer your many questions. Especially when he finally sheds his skin again and you still don’t know how to react. Perhaps it’s still his mischievous nature but he lets out a long sigh, feigning annoyance.

“And now that you’ve seen my true self, we have to get married.” It’s not quite true, but he deeply enjoys your reaction at that.