#it's kind of a subtle detail but better safe than sorry

[twikni]

haha :)

[freedomfireflies]

Found

Summary: An extra for Mine*

The one where your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has to put you in danger in order to keep you safe.

Word Count: 2.8k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞 You are so much more important!*

“Asher?”

Harry’s eyes find the floor, narrowing with a malicious vengeance.

It’s a look you know well, but never in relation to the aforementioned man. His partner, his second-in-command.

His friend.

You stand and make your way to him, wary of his demeanor as you gently outstretch your finger to his arm. “What’s wrong?”

He almost looks like he wants to flinch when you touch him, and your heart aches for whatever he’s fighting inside.

But then, he looks to you. He looks, and he wraps his arms around you, and he nearly yanks you into his chest.

Everything is him. Every scent, every sound, every feel. His muscles are rigid, and his breathing is shallow, and he’s cursing through gritted teeth.

He doesn’t let you go. Not for quite some time, and despite your attempts to rub his back in soothing circles, nothing calms him.

Finally, he pulls back to take hold of your face. He nuzzles his lips and nose into your forehead, and whispers, “I love you. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I ever let them take you—”

“Harry,” you exhale, slipping yourself free of his hold so you can look him in the eye. “Don’t do that, we talked about this—”

“I don’t care,” he nearly growls. “I don’t care, I love you, and I never should have let them take you. You have no idea what they could have done—”

“Yes, I do. I was there.”

The reminder makes his expression drop. Skin paling almost as if the thought repulses him.

He moves to hold you again, and you let him, but you don’t wipe the stern look from your face. “Harry, what’s wrong? What’s going on? What’s wrong with Asher?”

He’s quiet for a long lull. Perhaps in an effort to prepare you or perhaps he’s simply trying to wrap his head around it himself.

“His comms are down,” Harry begins slowly. “And they found his tracker discarded a few miles outside of the warehouse.” 

You feel your heart leap into your throat. “What, um…what does that mean? Is he okay?”

That pensive look returns as he squeezes the back of your neck gently. “It means I have to do something I don’t want to.”

“Like…what?”

His eyes return to yours. A vibrant green that bleeds remorse as he dips down to run his lips along your temple lovingly. “I’m so sorry I ever put you in danger.”

Your heart sinks. “Harry—”

“I’m sorry that loving me causes you more pain than joy,” he whispers, and you can hear each ounce of guilt. “I’m sorry that my love comes with so many conditions—”

“Harry,” you try again, leaning back to take hold of his face and squeeze. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on with Asher, what do you have to do?”

He stares at you for a long while, a subtle red rim swimming beside his lashes. “I need to make a call,” he says shortly.

And with that, he pulls himself from your arms and disappears into the other room, the phone squeezed tightly in his hand.

You hear his heated conversation through the walls of the small apartment. Can’t decipher what he’s saying but you know he’s upset. And when he returns half an hour later, he’s wrought with frustration and regret. 

“Har?” you begin gently, cautiously watching from your spot in the tiny kitchen. “Are you…is everything okay?”

You know he won’t offer you an honest answer. He doesn’t particularly like sharing the details of his job with you. He claims it’s better if you don’t know. Safer. And maybe he’s right.

Or maybe he just wants to protect you any way he knows how.

He looks up and finds you. Frowns in the kind of way that has your soul sinking down to the cold, hardwood floor below as he strides over to you.

He takes your hands. Pulls you into his chest and traps you against his heart. Buries his lips into the crown of your head and whispers, “I love you,” for what feels like the hundredth time today.

You smile sadly. “I love you, too. But you’re really starting to scare me, Har. I just…I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

He leans back and captures your cheeks in his palms. Presses his love into your skin as he sucks in a sharp breath and murmurs, “Do you trust me?”

Your answer is instantaneous. “Yes.”

He seems relieved. He seems gutted. “And do you trust that I would never knowingly put you in danger? That I would do anything to ensure your safety?”

You swallow thickly. “Of course.”

He exhales shakily before dipping down to press his forehead to yours. “Do you trust that I love you? More than anything in the fucking world?”

There’s an odd feeling blooming in your chest yet you feel strangely calm. “Yes,” you tell him, nuzzling into his touch. “Always.”

He keeps his eyes closed. Doesn’t let you go as struggles through his next sentence. “Then I need you to do something for me, mama.”

“Anything.”

His features twist, as if it wounds him to hear you say it. “I need you to go sit down on that couch.”

Your lashes flutter as you slip your fingers around his wrists. 

“I need you to sit down, and I need you to wait,” he continues, in a tone so distraught, it makes your throat feel dry. “And I need you to trust that whatever happens next…is because I love you.”

Your breath hitches.

“I need you to trust that this is the only way.” His grip becomes tighter. “I need you…to trust me.”

Despite the countless warnings currently going off in your head, you nod quickly. “I do. I trust you, Har. I promise.”

The muscles in his jaw constrict, teeth scraping together as he stumbles over a wounded inhale. Then, he surges forward and presses his lips to yours. Over and over and over he kisses you. Mumbling, “I love you, sweet girl. More than anything in the whole fucking world. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

His anguish is evident. Body tense beneath your touch and chest heaving with grief. He’s moments away from allowing the tears to fall from his eyes, and it hurts you to see him in so much suffering. 

He kisses you until he has to rip himself away. Tearing himself out of your arms before turning on his heel to disappear into the next room, without so much as a glance back.

And you know it kills him to do it.

You look toward the living room, eyeing the couch warily while taking a deep breath. You do trust him. More than anything.

So, you sit. Take a seat on the center cushion and pull your knees to your chest in wait.

Minutes go by. Then an hour. Harry never returns. The entire apartment is silent. The sun is beginning to set behind the mountains he’s hidden you in, leaving you to wonder in the darkness.

And then…a sound. The first sound in forever. The murmuring of hushed voices and the shimmying of a lock.

The front door opens. Three figures creep into the room, dressed in all black. It’s an instant wave of déjà vu, reminding you of only a few days ago when you were taken the first time.

You want to hide. Want to scream in protest. Want to call out to the man you love and have him protect you.

But he knows they’re here.

And he wants them to take you.

Maybe you don’t know why. Maybe you should be wildly confused and insanely terrified.

But you’re not. You trust him. And as the three shadows find you on the couch, you exhale a deep breath, and allow yourself to be approached.

You play up your terror. Figuring it’s better to give them a little fight so they don’t suspect your compliance.

You gasp and you whimper, and you attempt to squirm away as they crowd you. But only one man kneels to the floor in front of your feet, pressing a large, glove-covered palm to your mouth.

You suck in a shaky pant as his eyes find yours through the mask he wears to hide his face.

And those eyes.

You’d know those eyes anywhere. As soft and reassuring as the touch against your lips. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t call you by that familiar nickname or attempt to comfort you.

But you know him.

You aren’t sure why he’s here. Aren’t sure why he’s with them, but Harry must know. And if he’s allowing him to take you…it must be for a reason.

Things work quicker from there. They bind your hands before one of them throws you over their shoulder. They take you from your place of safety and toss you into a van. They don’t speak to you, they don’t look at you, they don’t even sit near you.

Everything is cold and dark. Far too quiet and somewhat unnerving. You drive for what feels like hours before the car finally stops and you’re removed from your prison.

You’re brought into a different warehouse this time. Smaller. Fuller. There are guards crawling in every corner of the room. Guns, grenades, and various weapons litter the walls and tables. It smells like cigars and bad decisions.

And just before you can allow yourself to doubt Harry’s intentions, you’re brought into a large office.

And sat in front of the one man Harry fears the most.

Callahan Matthews. 

 You’ve seen his face enough times to recognize it now. The way it leers at you. The way it smiles behind the cigar placed between his strangely white teeth. The way he gestures for you get comfortable as the office door shuts firmly.

“Well, well, well,” he begins in a sadistic croon, leaning back in his seat to study you. “How nice to finally meet you.”

You feel your blood run cold as you stare back, offering nothing more than an unamused frown.

Matthews glances toward the guard that brought you in. “Was she any trouble?”

“Not at all,” the man replies, the familiar voice sending chills down your spine as he slips off his mask to reveal his face.

Asher.

“She never is,” he adds, the corner of his mouth curling up in a cruel display of agreement. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

 Your fingers grip the armrests beside you, chest heaving as you work to remind yourself of why you’re here.

Your confusion and betrayal makes both men grin. “And Styles?” Matthews asks. “Where is he?”

“He was at the apartment,” Asher tells him, and you feel your head begin to pound. “We left him be, just like you asked.”

“Good.” Matthews crosses his arms over his chest. “You think he’ll come for her?”

“I know he will. He’ll give you anything you want to keep her pretty little head on her pretty little neck.”

The larger man laughs, pulling the cigar from his mouth. “And isn’t that just a shame? A man with so much power brought to his knees by something so pathetic.”

“Incredibly so,” Asher agrees, allowing his focus to drift back down to you. “Don’t you think?”

You toss him a bitter glare. “Bite me.”

Asher hums. “Haven’t I already?” he murmurs, leaning down and forcing you to rear back. His smug condescension more than evident. “Unless you want to beg me to do it again?”

Matthews smirks. “Perhaps if he’d spent more time questioning the men he allowed into his home—into his girlfriend…he’d have found his supposed mole.”

“Harry trusts too easily,” Asher declares, finally straightening up and allowing you to breathe. “Always has. It makes him incredibly weak.”

“And incompetent.” Matthews rakes his gaze over your tense figure. “Can’t imagine what she sees in him.”

“She sees what he wants her to see,” Asher says. “If he tells her he loves her, she believes it. If he tells her she’s safe, she believes it. If he tells her she loves him…she’ll believe it. All he has to do is convince her that she’s being saved, and she’ll do anything he wants.”

It’s the lowest of blows. Coming from the man who watched your relationship bloom from the very beginning. Who was there through every fight, every miscommunication, every moment of realization. 

He knows the two of you better than anybody else does.

And if this is truly how he feels…

The office door slams open. Four men wrestle through the frame, pulling a struggling man in their grasp.

Harry.

You see him out of your peripheral. See the blood around his cheeks, the bruises already darkening in color, and the ripped fabric on his chest. 

You feel sick. Distraught beyond measure and when his eyes find yours, tears begin slipping down your cheeks.

He’s shoved onto his knees as Matthews stands from behind his desk. Asher remains to the side, watching as a gun is pressed into the temple of his friend’s head.

He says nothing. Shows no remorse or acknowledgement of such cruelty. 

His indifference is infuriating.

“Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Matthews begins as one of the guards weaves their fingers through Harry’s hair and yanks his head back. “But I am a little disappointed.”

Harry remains quiet. Breathing heavily between gritted teeth as he stares daggers through the man approaching. 

“I was hoping for a little more of a fight,” the man admits. “Perhaps even a reason to respect you before I kill you. But I see you lose your edge where she’s concerned.”

Your nails scrape down the chair. Desperately wanting to run to him. To throw your body in front of his and shield him from the weapon you can already see Asher slipping from his belt.

“It’s a shame she has to watch the great Harry Styles die in such a trivial way,” he tsks, hand outstretching for the gun Asher is offering to him. “But I suppose that’s what you get…for thinking you were strong enough to save her.”

The sound of a bullet ripping through the air reaches you before the realization does.

The weapon has been fired. A body is hitting the floor and you’re ready to scream as a smattering of blood streaks across your cheek.

With a wounded, heavy, and unmendable heart, you find the man you love. Needing to see him one last time.

But Harry is still kneeling on the floor. Exactly the way he was before, now covered in a few extra drops of blood.

That aren’t his.

You turn and look for the answer. 

You find it with Asher.

The gun is raised and pointed toward the large man responsible for so much pain and destruction. You see the bullet through his skull as his lifeless body splays across the ground. A pool of blood collecting around his head.

Smoke wafts from the barrel as Asher stares calmly and stoically before he turns his attention and his weapon toward the other four in the room.

“You touch her…or you touch him,” he begins in a threatening murmur, eyebrow raised and ready for any defiance, “and I will make sure there’s enough room in the ground for your bodies, too.”

A moment of silence dances between the walls.

And then, for the second time in twenty-four hours, you’re forced to watch a sea of bullets fly through the air.

You aren’t sure who fires first. Aren’t sure where the danger lies. But you are sure of the way you lunge yourself at Harry’s body to pull him out of harm’s way.

His arms wrap around your torso as you both roll into the corner, just behind the desk. The sound of more gunshots echoes in from the rest of the warehouse as you make the connection that Harry’s men have arrived.

Your ears are ringing. Your chest is pounding. So much violence and strife is happening all around you. And you can do nothing but bury your face in Harry’s chest and will it to be over.

And through all the chaos, you hear him whisper, “I’m so fucking sorry. I had to. I had to let them take you, I’m so fucking sorry. Never let them take you again. I love you. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You aren’t sure when it finally stops. At least in this room. Aren’t sure when the ricocheting of bullets comes to an end. But you do eventually feel Harry lift up to survey the damage and make sure the coast is clear.

The resonating terror is pounding inside your head, but you do your best to follow him out from behind the table. Clutching onto his hand as he leads you into the main part of the office where you find an array of dead bodies and blood dispersed across the walls and floor. 

And just when you feel the first rush of relief in what feels like weeks…you find one more body in the corner of the room.

With a bullet hole right through his chest.

Asher.

Wow, now that's two parts where we end with his name said all dramatically, it's almost like he's the main character??? OOPS??? 🙃 I LOVE YOU ALL, THANK YOU FOR READING AND WAITING AND BEING SO NICE TO ME😭💞

Next Part:

~ Home

Previous Part:

~ Lost

~ Full Mine Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist (If you ever need or want to be taken off, or simply excluded from certain fics like this one, please let me know!! 💞) : @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @acesofspadess @stylesfever @narry-heart @virginvirgo @pagesfalling @creativelyeva @char112244 @snwells @armystay89 @oh-my-hecky-padalecki

[tsunagite]

Lyrith stood in front of Poseidon’s apartment. Raising her hand and clenching her first, she knocks loudly on the door. No response.

”Poseidon, are you there?” She shouted. No response again. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, as she recalls that Poseidon mentioned that they didn’t have anything planned and was staying home.

She decides to try the doorknob, not really expecting it to be unlocked, and yet… it turns all the way, allowing her to push the door open. This only made Lyrith even more confused as Poseidon wasn’t the type to forget to lock their doors… She does start to become worried for them, as she steps inside into their apartment.

Closing the door behind her, she squints her eyes as she tries to see through the dark. As her eyes adjusts, had just noticed that… man, there are a lot of books and papers on the ground. It seems like Poseidon may have been studying something…? She shuffles past them, careful to not accidentally step on paper nor knocking over any of the book piles.

Glancing at a few of the covers, they were mostly books about various water creatures or transmutation spells. Or the failure thereof. As for the papers, a lot of them she couldn’t read, mostly because the handwriting is that of chicken scratch. But she does recognize that’s it’s undoubtedly Poseidon’s handwriting.

This only adds to Lyrith’s confusion of “what happened to Poseidon?” But just as she thinks that, she distantly hears the splashing of water.

Her body freezes up. Shit, was Poseidon actually fine, just in their bathroom?! While that seemed like the logical thought, something makes her doubt that. Especially with seeing all the books and papers. Granted, Poseidon had always admire the sea, but transmutation spells…?

There was some bad thoughts that came to mind. Subconsciously, she walks over towards the hallway where she heard the movement of water. And sure enough, at the end of the hallway, was a door that was closed but not fully. Allowing the light from the room to seep through the cracks. And past that, Lyrith continues to hear subtle movements of water.

She does get a bit of cold feet, thinking, ’what if Poseidon really is just taking a bath?’ But decides it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Approaching the door until she’s right in front of it, she calls out, “Poseidon? Are you there?”

The water movements became still for moment. “Not my name, but someone is here.” A female voice replied.

Lyrith just has “??????” going in her mind. Reaching for the doorknob, she opens the door quickly, being met with… someone she doesn’t recognize, who’s seemingly a mermaid, sitting in a filled bathtub. Who only looked mildly surprise at her outburst.

”My, I didn’t expect Poseidon to know anyone else. Unless you’re some kind of stalker, of course~” The mermaid simply said.

The sight only gave Lyrith more questions than answers. Taking a deep breathe, she stared right at them. “Okay, who are you?” She asked.

They swayed their head side to side. “That’s my question as well. I’m referred to as ”WATER”.” They replied.

I’m lazy to write the rest properly :’D

Lyrith introduces herself, stating that she’s just a friend Poseidon‘s. Explaining that the reason she’s here is bc she hasn’t been able to contact Poseidon. Believing that they probably have been actively ignoring her. WATER only looks at her in confusion, mentioning that Poseidon barely seemed like they had a social life.

While she does internally laugh at the blunt comment, she does ask… on why a mermaid such as themself are here, stuck in a small bathtub, in the middle of a city? And not, y’know, in the sea?

WATER just shrugs, answering that Poseidon said to them, “That wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Because, in truth, WATER was never intended to be a mermaid. It was an accident. Even though WATER won’t give the full details, Lyrith is still horrified by the implications. Though, WATER tells her to calm down, telling her that she holds no grudge against Poseidon. Lyrith asks why that is, with WATER only smiling and saying.

”I do not mind it.”

Lyrith is confused by the vague statement, as the eyebags that WATER has give the impression that she isn’t, but if she says so…

Somethin somethin, Poseidon comes back to their apartment and is horrified that Lyrith let herself in, but she’s about to throw hands with them. WATER calms them down, they chat, but Lyrith wasn’t able to get any new info.

Bringing up the “mermaid stuck in an apartment” situation, Poseidon didn’t want to let WATER go. Something about fixing the mistake. But eventually Lyrith does get an idea for a middle ground: Go somewhere else that‘s more suitable for a mermaid that Poseidon can do their research or whatever. She states that she had a place in mind-

Chronicle Metropolis. She has a few friends there (*cough* other LeaF songs) that she can call in a favor. CM most likely has the resources to maybe be able to house both of them.

Poseidon was still hesitant on the idea of moving, but WATER does insist that a bathtub isn’t the most comfortable, so they relent.

(I still need to tie-in MOBILYS and Miracle Forest but that’s for later. For now, here’s how these three ended up in CM :^))

[shotorozu]

encountering a ‘pick me’ girl

character(s) : kirishima eijirou, todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki (bnha)

warning : PICK ME GIRL, misogyny (?) pick me girl makes an off handed comment about your body but it’s not detailed at all

PART TWO — PART THREE

legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, but they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff, angst if you squint

note(s) : i made 2 versions of this post so,, if you’re reading this— then i probably decided that i liked this one more than the other one i made,, anyways, i used real life examples 💀

»»————-　♡　————-««

kirishima eijirou

i’d imagine that eijirou would have an idea of what a pick me girl is— i mean, there were probably 2 of those girls in middle school

but has he experienced it first hand? nahh.

though, eijirou didn’t think he’d encounter one when he was already in a healthy and committed relationship!

eijirou is practically friends with everyone— and yeah, even the most unexpected. so, he’s bound to accidentally befriend a pick me girl

him, being the nicest one out of all of the characters in this list, will still be nice to said pick me girl, despite wanting to snob them to the core

because really— you can’t really fight fire with fire in some cases

but, he can be everything but lenient when the pick me girl starts insulting you for doing certain things, and for absurd reasons too

like,, how you laugh, and how you take care of yourself (for example— if you wear makeup, or how you style your hair)

which is odd! everything about you is everything but the things the pick me girl has stated so.. he cannot stand by.

SCENARIO

the girl giggles to herself after that snide comment leaves her lip gloss coated lips. eijirou shifts uncomfortably— honestly taken aback by the anything but subtle insult that was thrown at you

“like.. seriously! it’s honestly quite superficial if you look at it like that. who the hell would put that much effort infront of your boyfriend? i’d assume they’d see everything AND everything but.. i guess not.”

you blink. superficial? now that’s a new one. the girl infront of you has been babbling insults sugarcoated in boasts the entire time, and you’re just wondering if it’s about time you guys leave but—

“well that’s unfair,” your boyfriend laughs, “i put the same amount of effort as this cutie right here,” eijirou pokes at your cheek, earning a quick laugh from you— which he can only thank the heavens for that

“but that’s different. it actually looks put together when you’re doing it, eiji.” the certain glint in her smile makes you want to wipe it right off with a dirty mop, “it’s impossible to look put together with expensive clothes, but being built like a—”

the sound of the sliding of a chair is quicker than your actions, and it easily cuts her off.

“i’m sorry, but we gotta go, it’s totally not cool of you to say those things about Y/N!”

“what? but i mean.. it’s true, right? i’m looking out for them! they’re literally out here l—”

“bye!” eijirou waves her goodbye with your hand, dismissing the sour expression on her face— as he dashes off with you

you’d question how he’s just so nice to people like that, but when he turns around, you could see the distaste in his eyes

“so that’s what a pick me girl’s like,” shaking his head, his expression lights up with such a quick manner “i’ll never make friends that are like that again!”

safe to say, eijirou’s friend list has been a a person shorter ever since that incident

bakugou katsuki

oh, so that girl’s bold bold.

if she thinks she could get away with being a not so subtle pick me girl infront of bakugou katsuki, then she couldn’t be more wrong.

it’s absolutely revolting— i mean, he hasn’t displayed any romantic feelings towards ANYONE that isn’t you.

also, they’re quite gutsy if you ask me. so congrats for having guts??

i don’t think he’d be friends with a pick me girl. he’s very selective of who he’s befriending, so it’s probably your friend that’s the pick me girl in this case

he wouldn’t know what a pick me girl would be, but he’d probably know the description of one.

over some time, he’d grow some resistance to insults directed at him, but when someone insults his s/o

oh boy. that’s not good. remember when i said that katsuki was almost like your scary and intimidating dog

this is what i mean

knows he can’t make a scene, so his first option is to be dismissive asf— but if said pick me girl literally can’t get it, he won’t be afraid of shoving some explosions into her face

because his hands are rated e for everyone

SCENARIO

“so you wanna be picked or something, is that it?” he hates how you literally have the resistance of a rock— which is something he always liked, but in this case hated. if it weren’t for you— he would’ve blasted explosions into her sorry excuse of a face until it’s beyond recognition (that wouldn’t be hero like, is what you’ve said in the past, but he disagrees.)

but seriously? ugh. he just wants to leave this horrid place, and make some dinner with you in the comfort of his home. why are you even friends with her anyway? she’s not even trying to be slick at this point.

“p-picked? i’m not understanding, katsu.”

“it’s bakugou.”

“right,” her laughter is like nails on chalkboard, “i’m just watching out for Y/N, y’know? there’s no point in wearing all of that.. on their face.” and she’s obviously referring to your obviously very well done makeup

“it’ll make your skin terrible in the long run! and really— i couldn’t really understand on why someone would wear that much, when you could survive with i dunno.. lip gloss at most?”

you would’ve actually said something as a rebuttal, but your boyfriend is quicker, and a lot more direct than anyone else in the area.

“just say you can’t do makeup and fucking scram,” katsuki’s ice cold glare finally breaks out of the act he’s been trying to hold together for you

“their makeup is fucking bomb as hell, compared to your ridiculous spider lashes, lady. come back when you’ve watched james charles’ entire fucking channel.” he harshly states in similar bakugou fashion, despite the lack of screaming.

and if you squinted hard enough, you could see tears welling up in her eyes. but katsuki tugs your hand before anything else could be said

“let’s fucking go, you need better friends.”

he makes you cut ties with all of them, and he practically scolds your terrible choice of friends— but he goes quiet when you tell him that you’ve been friends with her since middle school

“good fucking riddance. next time, i’ll punch them as soon as they say something outta line, got that?” and next time (hopefully, there won’t be a next time) you’ll actually lash out— or maybe,, you’ll let him loose for once.

todoroki shouto

now shouto might be,, socially unaware sometimes. but he can tell whenever someone’s trying to insult his s/o

like,, right away.

now— you both run into this person after a pleasant date, and she eagerly presented herself as your friend

so, her attitude catches him off guard because who’d have anything rude to say about you and towards shouto’s face? especially when it’s about something normal.

like,, wasn’t she your friend?? why is she even like this?

his hostility is very well known, so they should be scared.

he gets detached from the conversation, and he’ll immediately go cold— and shouto would probably go as far as walking away with your hand in his

doesn’t matter if he properly says goodbye or not— if a girl’s being rude to his s/o, they obviously don’t deserve his usually polite attitude. nope, that’s a luxury.

oh— and what more when they’re seeking for his validation. newsflash! said pick me girl won’t be get any from him.

SCENARIO

shouto couldn’t stop the bitterness bleeding into his mouth, when the girl in front of him continued to babble and take up the valuable time he had left with his s/o

initially, she presented herself as your friend from middle school— but as of now? she seems to be more interested in him more than you, despite knowing you first.

she’d ask him a string of obvious questions with very obvious answers, like ‘is she treating you well?’ ‘is she acting correctly?’ and questions of the sort

“oh, sorry! i’d hate to cut this conversation short, but—” you finally decide that it was about time to leave, while shouto looks pretty,, deadpanned right now, you could tell that he was gradually starting to get irritated by your friend’s words.

“wait. thats.. kind of controlling, don’t you think? do you ever let shou make decisions?”

“uh.. controlling? since when??” you question at the accusation. this girl knows nothing about your relationship dynamic, and she’s already jumping the gun and making conclusions.

your gaze snaps back to shouto, who looks just as surprised as he could possibly be.

“yeah! it clearly looks like he still wants to talk” which is an obvious lie, shouto just wants it out of here “i wonder how you managed to snag such a guy like him,” she comments with a smile that looked anything above suspicion (yet, it makes your stomach churn)

you could see the way her hand gets gradually closer to him— and frankly, you’re not sure about what she was planning to do next, “you wouldn’t need to dress all expensive and fancy, if you’re with a girl with an already classy appear—”

“i think this conversation is over,” shouto grip is firm on the wrist that was attempting to grab his shoulder, shouto makes no attempt to even look at the girl infront of him “i don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it’s not humorous. at all.”

“what?” she stammers, drawing her hand back “i-it’s obvious they don’t know how to take a joke! this is why there are barely any good w—”

shouto’s next actions knocks her speechless, his hand rests at the small of your back, before gently guiding you forward— “love, what movie are we watching later?” he says, making an effort to press a quick, yet intense kiss on your lips

“oh,” you breathe out, surprised by this action. “don’t be so tense, love.” shouto comments on how tense your shoulders have looked, ever since she started running her mouth, “now.. what movie do you want to watch tonight? comedy? thriller?”

“you pick,” you laugh at the quick shift of topic. and when you look behind you, you could see shame and defeat welling up on her face. shouto finally feels like he could smile again, the bitterness dissipating from his mouth

after shouto questions you if that was what a pick me girl was, he makes sure that you guys won’t ever encounter such thing again

“you.. don’t have more friends like that, right? if you do— we could always do another friend list cleansing.” this statement makes you laugh but shouto is anything but joking

but being reminded of his reaction to that ‘pick me’ girl does puts a smile on your face.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[marcnutz]

Paris

18+, minors DNI

Tags: Dream x GN!Reader x Sapnap, Top!Dream, Top!Sapnap, Btm!Reader, 3k Words, Double Penetration, Fingering, Degradation, Praise, Daddy Kink (sorta), Competition, inspired by Sapnap’s latest alt stream where they went back and forth between who could last the longest. 

Masterlist and Info

Dream and Sapnap had to make everything into a competition. Who could clean faster, who could cook better, who loved Patches more, everything. Now their latest bout of competition has fallen upon your shoulders, and you have to help them figure out who wins this time. 

Living with Sapnap and Dream had it’s ups and downs. Grade A wagyu beef, unlimited cuddles,  and living with you best friends were the ups. Your roommates’ constant arguments and competitions were the downs. Sometimes they ended well, with you getting to choose who cooked better, or once they cleaned the entire house because they wanted to see who could do a better job, leaving you with no chores to do. However most of the time they just ended in pointless back and forth yelling for a good few hours. 

MCC was coming back, and all of you had been separated into separate teams. This only made Sapnap and Dream’s competitiveness worse. Not only were they competing against each other, but all the other streamers as well, and after months of no practice, they were a little rusty on the mini games. 

“What kind of psychopath plays Hole in The Wall for an hour and five minutes!?” Dream yelled into his mic as you and Sapnap hopped back onto the platform for another go. 

Sapnap had ended his stream awhile ago, but you all decided to keep practicing, allowing you to talk about the things you can’t while on stream. 

“I have no idea, but I doubt he’ll last that long in the actual competition,” you said, trying to calm everyone’s nerves.

Dream was about to agree with you, until he got knocked off the platform again. “What the hell!” 

Sapnap started laughing at his friend’s struggle, only making him angrier. 

“Oh shut the fuck up, Sapnap, I’ve lasted longer than you have every time.”

“You can’t last longer than I can,” Sapnap said, trying to poke the bear. 

“Yes I can! Both of you come down so we can reset and we’ll see who can go longer.” Dream said as he stared at you flew off the platform, and Sapnap jumped off. 

“Fine, but I we all know I can last longer,” Sapnap said in a way that suggested he was referring to something other than Minecraft. You just rolled your eyes despite having your camera off. However, you would be lying to yourself if you said his suggestive tone didn’t wake up the butterflies in your stomach.

Dream laughed at Sapnap’s words, “Oh yeah? Why don’t we put you to the test then?” he replied in an equally flirtatious manner. A deep blush was starting to form on your face. Being completely honest, you had a major crush on both of your roommates. Dream was tall, strong, and handsome. Sapnap was loyal, cute, and soft. You may have had one too many dreams of the both of them... having their way with you. The contrast between both their personalities sending dream you into a spiral of pleasure. 

There were times when you thought for a second that they may have similar feelings for you. Once when you and Sapnap were having a ‘friendly’ cuddle and watching anime. You had both fallen asleep, and you woke up with his hand you your thigh and his very obvious hardon against your ass. You hadn’t know what to do, so you quietly slipped out of his arms despite your heart telling you other wise. As you opened his door, you quietly heard him murmur your name in his sleep. 

Dream was more subtle with his emotions. Small touches, glances, and blushes were what cued you into his possible feelings, it was just that you always felt you might have to choose between them both. However choosing one may ruin your friendship with the other, and you valued that more than any relationship. So you vowed to just keep quiet and let your hand fill in for them. 

“HELLOOO?!” Sapnap’s yelling had brought you out of your thoughts. “You still there?”

“Y-yeah, sorry. I was just lost in thought,” you replied, jumping onto the platform to continue your practice.

“Well, Dream and I want you to help us settle our debate.”

“About who can last longer in Hole in The Wall? Why not just play and see?”

Dream laughed, “No idiot, who can last longer.” There was that flirtatious tone again. Sapnap was laughing slightly. 

You were at a loss, do you play it safe and act innocent, or do you play up their banter. There was almost a 0% chance this ended in a threesome. Almost zero, but not quite. 

“Oh gosh,” you said in a breathless tone, “I’m not sure? I think I might need to know what you guys can do.” There, not asking to get fucked, just asking what they would do to you should you get fucked. Now the worse that could happen is you have more inspiration for your late night alone time. 

Dream let out a small laugh, “Do you really want to know?”

“Well of course, I have no idea good you both are, so in order to give an informed decision I need to know all the dirty details.” This felt like the start up to a bad porn film, but at this point you’ll say anything to be sandwiched in-between the two. 

“Hmm, that does make sense... However, I have noticed you’re more of a visual learner. Why don’t we just come over there and show you what we can do,” Dream said, logging off the MCC server.

Sapnap laughed, “Ooo~, then we can know for sure who can last the longest.”

“Get over here then,” you encouraged, “At this pace it seems like I’m gonna last the longest.” You definitely were not. 

Neither Sapnap nor Dream took the time to disconnect from the Discord call. You heard their steps bounding up the stairs and down the hall to your room. Sapnap was the first to barge into your room. 

“There.” He demanded, pointing to your bed. You were quick to follow his orders, pinching your arm slightly on the way there to make sure you weren’t dreaming. 

Dream came into the room as you lied down, coming over and setting a box of condoms and a bottle of lube on your nightstand. He stood over you and just stared down. You tried to avert your eyes, which fell onto Sapnap, his dick showing through his sweats. 

“So Sap, how do you want to go about this.” Dream asked, taking his eyes off you to look at Sapnap, who didn’t take his eyes off you. 

“We could each take a side? I want their mouth...” He said with a small smile on his lips. 

“Fine with me,” Dream replied with a shrug. He flipped you over onto your stomach and gave a solid smack to your ass. “You sure you’re okay with this?” 

“Never been more sure of anything,” you replied. It was the truth, you wanted this more than you have every wanted anything else. Doesn’t mean you weren’t nervous as hell. You’d never had a threesome before, and doing so with your roommates that you had a major crush on was nerve racking. 

Sapnap stood in front of you and lifted your head up with his hand. He gave you a small kiss on the lips, before pulling away and throwing a condom at Dream. “We need to start at the same time so it’s fair.” Sapnap took his shirt off as Dream helped pull yours over your shoulders. 

“Of course, we need to make sure they’re prepped first though. However that might make it a little unfair to them...” Dream said as he continued to undress you.

“We can just add a couple minutes onto their time.” Both you and Sapnap were down to just your underwear, while Dream was still fully clothed. Sapnap crawled onto the bed and sat on his heels in front of your face. He reached down and kissed you again, however this time it was much more than a small peck. 

Dream just sat back and watched as you and Sapnap made out, your ass in full display for him as you held yourself up on all fours. Your small moans went straight to his dick, and it didn’t take long before he started to palm himself through his shorts. 

He let out a small moan that caused Sapnap to open his eyes and look over at his best friend. He managed to smirk at him with your tongue still in his mouth, and his cocky attitude broke Dream out of his trance. He was supposed to make this last, not get himself off. He quickly pulled his shirt and shorts off before pulling your underwear down and giving another smack to your ass. 

“Sapnap, hand me the lube,” Sapnap huffed at Dream’s request, having to break away from you, a small line of saliva connecting your lips for a moment before breaking apart. He threw the lube at Dream and went right back to your lips. 

Dream opened the lube and applied a generous amount to his fingers. He slowly circled one around your entrance, the cold lube sending a shiver down your back. He suddenly thrust his finger into you, causing you to let out a loud moan against Sapnap’s lips. Dream’s finger worked you open while trying to hit all the right spots, and when he found it he added a second finger before ramming into it over and over again. 

Sapnap pulled away from you, causing your face to fall into the mattress. He quickly took his boxers off before slowly stroking his dick, watching you get finger fucked by his best friend. At this point he had three fingers inside of you, and it made you wonder how big his dick was that he needed this much prep. 

“You think you can take it now?” He asked while slowly scissoring his fingers inside of you. All you could do was nod weakly. 

He slowly pulled his fingers out of you and took off his own underwear, dick twitching at the cool air. You looked up at Sapnap when he let out a small “Damn” at the sight of his best friends dick, Sapnap was about average in length but thick. You turned your head over your shoulder and saw Dream’s as he rolled the condom on. He was about the same thickness as Sapnap, but a good six to seven inches in length, and you now knew why he took so much time to prep you. 

“Okay we go in at the same time,” Dream lightly patted your ass, “You ready?” He asked. 

You nodded, and looked up at Sapnap before opening your mouth for him. He grabbed your face and Dream grabbed your hips, both steadying their dicks at your entrances. They looked up at one another, nodding, and slowly pushed in. Sapnap stopped at just the tip, letting out a high pitched whine. Dream on the other hand pushed all the way in, stopping to let out small pants once he bottomed out. He gave you a second to adjust, before slamming into you, pushing Sapnap’s dick deeper down you throat. 

Dream set a slow but steady pace as you sucked on Sapnap’s dick, the force of Dream’s thrust causing you to bob your head slightly. Sapnap had one hand on his dick, the other gripping your hair has he looked up at the ceiling. 

Dream laughed at his friend’s face, “Oh come on now, you could at least look at the slut, taking both of our dicks so well.” He smacked your ass again before thrust into you harder. It caused Sapnap’s dick to go all the way down your throat. He moaned louder than ever as you gagged around him. 

“Oh god... So good for me... You’re doing so good baby...” Sapnap said as he pet your hair. The contrast of Dream’s degradation and Sapnap’s praise causing your head to spin. 

“Yeah they are good at this, I wonder how many people they let do this to them. What do you think? They probably fuck anyone who looks at them. Oh well, it’s our turn now. I’ll use them up until they can’t walk anymore.” Dream continued to talk, but you barely understood what he was saying. 

Your moans were muffled by Sapnap, the vibrations causing his dick to twitch in your mouth. “Oh fuck yes baby, just like that. You take daddy’s dick so well...”

Everyone was snapped out of their trance when Dream’s pace faltered and he began to wheeze, “DADDY?!” He yelled, folding over you, tears falling from his eyes from laughed. You pulled Sapnap out of your mouth as you began to giggle as well. 

“W-what? I didn’t say that!” He stammered.

“Yes you did,” you replied, smiling up at them. “Do you really like me that much, daddy?” 

“I-I, uhh, I... I mean... Y-yes?” Sapnap’s brain faltered at hearing you call him daddy. He just shook his head and grabbed your face. “Both of you shut up. We’re trying to prove a point with all of this. Hey, is it okay if I just fuck your face.”

You nodded, mouth falling open with a moan as Dream roughly thrust into you once he had caught his breath. He was somehow hitting all the right places with every hard thrust. Sapnap took this opportunity to roughly thrust his own dick down your throat. You gagged a little, causing you to tighten around Dream’s dick. He let out a loud moan, large hands gripping you harder. 

This was bad, you were getting close. While you were nowhere near as competitive as Dream and Sapnap, you still wanted to see how long you could last. It wasn’t quite equal, you thought. You were getting pleasure from two places while they where only receiving it from one. Dream fingering you also didn’t help. 

Dream snapped you out of your thoughts as he laughed lightly again, “Awww, are you close already? Dumb slut can’t even last long enough for us. How long have you been waiting for us to take you? Do you think I don’t notice you staring at us at dinner, or the way your hands grip your thighs whenever we cuddle you. I’ve even heard you screaming our names when you touch yourself. Such a fucking slut, I bet you wanted me to hear you and come in and do something about it just like I am now.” You were almost crying at how good you were feeling, Dreams strong hands smacking your ass as he continued to call you names. 

All of the sudden Dream hit your sweet spot one to many times, and you were coming all over his dick, and moaning around Sapnap’s. “Oh fuck yes, come for me,” Sapnap said, the pain of him gripping your hair fading into the pleasure of your orgasm. 

“Heh, that’s one down,” Dream said as his pace slowed down to let you ride out your orgasm. He reached his hand out to Sapnap for a high five, who just rolled his eyes and let him have it. 

Sapnap would be lying if he said he wasn’t close. The feeling of you moaning around his cock, and the sight of you taking the both of them was too much for him to handle. He just watched as his dick went in and out of your soft lips, saliva dripping down your chin. It was getting harder and harder for him to care about this dumb competition. Who cared who could last the longest? He had the most amazing person sucking him off, and that’s all he cared about.

Despite his cocky attitude, Dream was just as close as Sapnap. He was the real slut who thought of fucking you every chance he could, but he would never let that one. He watched as your ass jiggled with every strong thrust against his hips. However, he did want to win this competition, yet it was hard to focus on doing math in his head when you were almost screaming around Sapnap’s dick from overstimulation. 

Sapnap’s whine just got louder as tears started to run down your face, and just a few more thrust into your throat and he was pulling out to cum all over your face. You opened your mouth to catch some of his cum on your tongue. Sapnap just watched in awe as your tried your best to catchy his cum in your mouth, the rest dripping down your cheeks and off your face. The force of his own orgasm caused him to fall back onto his ass, with your face falling onto his pillowy thighs.

Dream had won, but to him all that meant was he could finally focus on chasing his own release. He reached over to push your head down more into Sapnap’s thighs, cum, drool, and tears mixing on your face and his thigh. 

Dream pounded into you, feeling you clench around him as he sped up. “Look at you, covered in cum and you’re still taking my dick. Want more you fucking slut? Want me to come all over your back so you can have more, huh?” Dream said, when you didn’t answer he gripped your hair and pulled you up to have his face against yours. “I asked you a question, whore. Do you want my cum or not?”

A weak “Yes,” was all you could muster before Dream dropped you back down onto Sapnap’s thighs, who just looked on in awe in his own post orgasmic haze. Dream’s pace faltered a bit before he gave a few more rough thrust right into your sweet spot, leading to your second orgasm of the night. It didn’t take long for Dream to pull out, pulling the condom off before stroking himself to cum all over your ass. He threw his head up moaning loudly before collapsing against your back.

You all lied there for a few minutes, catch your breathes as you all finally came down from the events of the night. Dream gently stroked your arms and Sapnap did the same with your back. 

The quiet moment was broken when Dream started to laugh, “I win.”

“Oh shut the hell up,” Sapnap said, “I’ll beat you next time, that is if you want a next time.”

Both boys looked down at you expectantly. “Nah, I’ll win for sure.” All three of you laughed slightly before falling back into comfortable silence. The idea of this becoming a regular occurrence sounded quite nice to you all.

[cinnamonest]

Zhongli (Genshin Impact) - Yandere Profile

This man's voice has a POWER over me I SWEAR

tws: yandere, mentions of n/sfw

tws (under the cut): very ddlg-esque vibes, sorta? infantilization, noncon

I'm sorry I get such strong daddy vibes it unintentionally went in this direction, hope that isn't too bad lmao

I’m working on all the prompts I’ve gotten in! I’ve gotten a few so I’ll be working on those.

----------

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

He's one that might be likely to misunderstand his feelings at first, think that he sees himself as a mentor or maybe even an authority figure, someone to guide you and teach you and serve as a dependable partner to your travels. As time goes on, and he begins to recognize how utterly flustered he gets around you, he's forced to acknowledge the actual feelings he has.

While some yanderes with a slight aloofness or pride to them get worse when in love, such as Childe or Kaeya, his drops completely. You bring out a softer side of him, really, one that's protective and tender and loving, so very loving, wanting to be around you, with you. He's certainly an obsessive, protective type, ultimately allowing his protective nature to get the better of him as he demands to know everything you've done, account for your location at every moment, constantly keep track of your habits, inquire about very personal details of your life. If he realizes you're bothered by it, he might draw back a bit, but he's convinced that that's just your perception, that it's necessary, truly, and not at all unusual.

Pet names. Particularly fond of love, darling, and angel. Sweet things that represent what you mean to him -- something precious, something to represent his adoration and idolization.

The primary form of delusion comes from a perception of you. He's obsessive, and idolizes you to an extent. He perceives you as pure, innocent, angelic. The thing is, this applies regardless of whether or not you actually are. If you are, it will solidify the idea, but even if you're not, he will find a way to see you so, anyway. No matter how wise you are, no, you're naive. No matter how capable you are, no, you're weak and fragile. No matter how experienced you may be, no, you're pure. He can always keep this delusion running by bringing into account age and comparison - you'll never be as strong as him, so you might as well be frail and weak. You'll never have lived as long as him, so really, do you think there's that much difference between you and a child, when compared to someone like himself?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Actually highly likely, and pretty quickly. As he observes you, it becomes very clear to him how very fragile you are, how naive you are, you are quite literally too pure, too angelic, to be living in this world with such beings as humans. Fragile, beautiful little things have a place where they belong - protected. Where do we put fragile, beautiful things? We put them behind glass, behind ropes, in pretty cages, in secluded rooms. It's only natural that you, too, need a similar environment.

He's one of the ones that will... Elegantly kidnap you, as odd as it sounds. He's not a brute that would do something horrendous like knocking you out or drugging you, no, he'll find an excuse for you to come to his abode, invite you in, and you'll walk in none the wiser. Only after your in, and the doors close, does he guide you to your new room, calmly explaining that he's come to the realization that you're too fragile to continue your journey, and ought to simply give up on your travels. He knows you'll be upset at first. Like a child being denied, you'll get pouty, moody, you might cry, you might lash out at him. It's predictable. He'll dry your eyes and calm you down, brushing off any harsh words you may have, holding your wrists in his hands when you try to push him away, softly reassuring you that it will all be alright, that you're safe now, and you'll learn to accept this with time.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

He would want something... elaborate. He's a man with taste for the most beautiful of things, including yourself, and he won't settle for something as simple as a chain or ropes. No, that would be too simple and brutish, and you, one of the finest things in his life, deserve something equally beautiful and delicate.

He's one of the ones that would go to a great deal of preparation for your arrival. He'd have a room prepared just for you, very ornate, beautifully tailored to you -- the walls your favorite color, the bed made of the same material as your old one, and the whole room completely filled with things you're certain you never even told him you liked. Clothes that fit perfectly to your body. It's frightening how perfect it is, because you know he had to go out of his way to acquire the information to achieve such perfection, but you have no idea how.

Everything about it elegant and detailed, right down to the series of ornate locks on the door. They're some of the sturdiest available, made with essentially unbreakable metal alloys and the most intricate lock systems to date. The windows don't open, and he'd certainly find some way to ensure escape through them isn't an option -- perhaps metal bars, perhaps an unbreakable glass substitute, perhaps merely locating your new home right on the edge of one of Liyue's most beautiful mountains, so that if you were to go out the window you'd plummet to the earth below. He's a bit delusional, but he's not stupid, and he will think through every possibility. Every little detail he needs to keep you safe and confined.

He's certain that, perfect as it is, this room is all you will ever need to be happy. Should you desire anything else, he can bring it to you. You'll never have to leave.

So it goes without saying that it would be exceptionally difficult to escape him. You'd have to find a way through the locks, for which your best bet would be to get some hair pins or tiny writing utensils. Even if you managed it, though, which would frankly be a very difficult feat, you'll have to deal with staying free. Zhongli has ties to the people of Liyue as a whole, and needless to say, he has eyes everywhere. You can't risk appearing in the harbor area, there will be far too many people who would immediately report you, and you'd just be walking right to him anyhow. The surrounding areas also have ties to him, so you'd want to try and reach Mondstadt, as far as it is, which is a difficult travel by foot all alone. You won't get far. He's faster, he's wiser, and he will find you long before you could ever hope to make it there.

However, he's not quite as angry as some yanderes would be about it. He doesn't take your escape personally, no, he blames himself, only calculating his own mistakes as to how it happened. He sees you as something like... a little runaway pet, so naive and dull that you don't know any better than to go wandering off. Or perhaps like a child, just sheepishly curious and wanting to explore, not knowing the dangers of the world. Or, perhaps...

"I haven't been giving you enough attention, have I? That's why you pulled this little act of rebellion... you're hurt by my negligence and wanted to be reassured of my care for you. I'm so sorry... I understand now, love. This was my fault. I've been so caught up with work... I'll delegate some tasks to my workers, and I'll be able to spend more time with you from now on, alright? Don't worry, I'm not angry, I'll take full responsibility. I'll be sure to make it up to you... now, let's go home."

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Much like Childe or Venti or anyone who has been around as long as he has, you really don't stand a chance. He's an incredibly perceptive man. There's not much to say on the matter, as any attempts will be quickly shut down.

He'd find it amusing, really. Like a child trying to lie, but the evidence is all over their face and hands - it's that obvious to him. It's cute enough that he almost hates having to discipline you for it, but, you have to learn.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He wants his little angel to be safe - and unfortunately, you, being so naive and empty headed, don't always know what's best for you. He knows rules can be hard to follow perfectly, but they're there to keep you safe.

Extremely strict, will want to monitor every moment of your life, every little movement you take, and will insist on watching over you in every task. He'll pick out everything you wear, everything you eat.

Occasionally, if you ask very sweetly, he may take you out for walks in Liyue. Honestly, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy taking you to what he knows are the finest locations, shops with the highest level of craftsmanship, restaurants with a high price tag and reputable food. He enjoys showing off his refined tastes and discerning selective abilities. And honestly? There's a certain... Powerful feeling to knowing you're made aware of the costs when he makes high purchases in front of you... even if you don't realize he's not always actually the one paying for it, or that he forgot mora again but promises the owner to pay later - but he'll make sure you don't know that. You hear the numbers, and your eyebrows raise, your eyes widen. You'd nearly faint if that total was on your responsibility, and he knows that. Which is why he'll simply smile at you, and tell you you're worth every last Mora. He'll buy you nearly anything you may desire. It seems like leniency, but in reality, it's his subtle way of locking control and dependency over you, making you respect him, making you love him.

"Don't worry, love. It's not a lot... Not to me, at least. Even if it were, my angel only deserves the best, no?"

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Oh dear. Again, he's very strict, and wants to monitor everything you do, every little aspect of your life. He decides what you eat, portioning your meals to make sure you're eating enough, he worries about you going hungry during your travels, but luckily you'll never have to worry about that again. If you have a sweet tooth, he'll sigh and worry about your teeth and health, but he'll make sure to account for a little bit of sugar in your day, and will even pick up little treats from some of the most reputable places in Liyue.

He picks out clothes for you with each day. They're not... Normal clothes, per se. Certainly not what you'd normally wear on your travels. And it's not like anyone will see you except him - which is exactly why you'll have clothes he would never want anyone else to see you in. Frilly, lacey things, somehow both highly sexualized but also incredibly infantile, soft pinks, baby blues, gentle off-whites. They accentuate the curves of your body so perfectly, while just barely letting him see the parts of you normally kept hidden.

You'll have a schedule - a bath time, a bedtime, a wake-up time. He's weak to your requests, though, and may let you stay up a little late every now and then, or sleep in just a bit, if you make that soft pouting face and beg. He'll insist on bathing you, dressing you, so that you don't have to - and can't even if you wanted to - lift a finger even to wash yourself or put your clothes on.

He has a set of rules for you, very simple ones he hopes you can easily follow. No trying to leave. No doing anything dangerous. No talking to strangers when you go out. You must hold his hand whenever you're walking together, don't go wandering off.

He'll feel ashamed of the thought for a while, but eventually he'll cave and give into the desire, no, the security precaution, of a nice little collar for you. It's not too embarrassing, no, he went out of his way to find one that was delicate, almost like a necklace, made with fine materials, the engraving only visible up close. If you look closely, though, it clearly bears his name.

Breaking the rules is expected, he anticipates it. You're not the brightest, he might even view it as a mistake. A benefit is that you can easily pass it off as simply forgotten, or an accident. Hence, he's not too harsh - normally. He'll sigh, forgive you, and pat your head, contemplating how to prevent your access in the future.

Perhaps you wriggled out of his hand and ran off while walking? You were just excited, distracted, like a child. He might be able to procure a small leash, one that wouldn't be immediately obvious or embarrassing, to attach to your collar. Perhaps some cuff-like links to latch your arm to his.

You forgot the rule about not handling the kitchen knives and cut yourself? He'll have to get some kind of lock and simply keep them safely away from you. No big deal. Any measures are worth your safety.

If you push the limits, or have a defiant attitude, he might reach the point of punishment. As for not-unwholesome things, this would usually include taking away privileges, such as walks or sweets, but overall, punishment will mostly come in more impure forms.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Not too much to say here - he has connections. He doesn't need to dirty his own hands. For all his supposed humility, if he truly dislikes someone, they're no more significant than an insect to him. He has no reservations about ridding the world of people who, in his mind, are obviously trying to deceive you, abuse you, corrupt you.

Thankfully, he is very capable of keeping a neutral face, even when he feels laughter building up. It would probably look strange if he were smiling over the newest body to come into his parlor.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

It's a slow buildup. He views restraint as a virtue, and looks down upon those who lack control over their own tempers. He's a man who strives to meet his own standards of character, and that very much applies to self control and ability to maintain a controlled demeanor, even when he feels a bit of frustration due to you being intentionally and deliberately defiant.

It's his responsibility to be a good role model for you and make sure you understand how to behave. However, in the end, he's very keen on properness and rules. If you have a tendency towards brattiness and pushing your limits, you may drive him to a boiling point.

However, even when expressing his anger, he's remarkably controlled. It's very mature, really. Nonetheless, he will have you shivering and tearful with his voice alone, booming with that depth that reverberates off the walls, that vibrates against your very core. His true anger is one that can strike fear even in the most courageous individuals - he's terrifying when he wants to be, fierce and intimidating, a sort of power just eminates from him.

Nonetheless, it's quick, he calms down very quickly, wipes the tears from your eyes, and sighs.

"I do hate having to be firm with you... but I can't have you thinking you can just act however you want. You understand that, don't you?"

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Both? It's difficult to describe. You're an angel to him. You're the finest work of art, the most intricate creation, the kind of person whose body and likeness deserves to be preserved in art and tradition, one of those women who should be renowned for beauty even centuries long after you're gone from the earth. It's almost goddess-like. At the same time, there's a beautiful, tragic duality to your essence, he thinks. A fragility and a dependency that leaves you in need, but an inherent status of perfection that makes you deserve the utmost perfect of care. You need to be coddled, cared for, protected, but you deserve it. Like a deity incarnated into a mere fragile human form, a queen that needs support to retain her grace.

Unlike some, he doesn't view his care and protection as some kind of favor that should be repaid with your gratitude, no, really, he is grateful that he is the one who is even deserving of being your caretaker, your provider, your lover.

Even if he is the one who determined that he deserves that role.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He's convinced that he can show you that he is your protector, your lover, that it's fate itself that has locked you together, not just his own will.

And he is, above all else, patient. One of the most patient you could encounter. You think a year is a long time? It's nothing to him. A century for you? More than a lifetime. For him? Nothing. He can and will wait, as long as it takes, and he will never falter in his continual care. He'll remind you frequently, he'll shower you in affection, but if you don't return it? It's not that bad. He has all the time in the world to fix you.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Moraless Sugar daddy

But in all seriousness, he is definitely of the gift-giving love language. He sees beautiful things, and beautiful things make him think of you! It's sweet, he thinks. So many little things he sees throughout his day make him think of you, and he has to have all of them, see your face when he gives them to you. He likes making you happy, for one, but he'd be lying if he said there wasn't a sort of satisfactory pride he gets from the power dynamic of it all. He wants to be the sole source of provision in your life, he wants your dependency.

If we're talking prior to the events of the game, it will be even more extreme. He treats it like it's truly nothing, throwing around massive purchases, seemingly as if he's not thinking about it at all. But he is - rest assured, he's taking it into consideration, at least, that is, how it will affect your attitude and perception of him.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

On the reserved side. He'd never conduct himself improperly in public, of course. It's out of the question. He cares about proper behavior and public image, and he'd never behave in a vulgar manner.

Even in private, he's certainly one of the ones that struggles with a certain guilt. To some degree, he would feel like you're so innocent and pure that he doesn't want to corrupt you. He goes through stages. First, he'll lie to himself, telling himself that the feelings he has for you are simply protective, platonic, a natural sense of responsibility for you. That becomes more and more difficult to convince himself of, the more excited he becomes around you, the more he finds his eyes drawn to whatever bits of skin are exposed on your body, finding himself drifting off to impure thoughts, trying to push them away. 

Second, once he's forced to acknowledge the true nature of these feelings, he'll simply practice restraint, something he's rather good at in this area. He tries, he really does. He tells himself he can't do something so impure, that it would violate you, that he should be ashamed of himself for it. It becomes more and more and more difficult to restrain himself with time, the feelings rising and the thoughts become more difficult to push away, eventually entertaining the fantasies in his head in an attempt to rid himself of the urge in real life. It doesn't work, no, it only makes the urges worse, and he can't be around you without his body nearly commanding him to do something. And finally, he'll take a different stance entirely, telling himself that, no, it's not going to corrupt you, rather, it's taking care of you. If he really wants to love you, really wants to care for all of your needs, then surely that would include your physical needs, and therefore, really, it would be wrong of him not to help you.

As that shift in viewpoints goes on, he'll become more and more bold, hands lingering just a little longer, face coming just a little closer. It's a slow build of tension, just waiting to boil over. 

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He understands you're nervous. Again, no matter how experienced you are, somehow in his head he makes it out to be insignificant. Even if you've had other relationships, he convinces himself - and tries to convince you - that they were inadequate, they didn't care about you, not like he does. And he'll treat it as that -- any resistance you put up is nervousness, nothing more, nothing less. He'll reassure you a million times that you won't feel pain, that he'll be gentle, that you'll feel good, even if his size and strength frankly is rather intimidating regardless of experience. He'll keep cooing in your ear, softly whispering reassurance, softly running hands over your skin, holding you in place as the last inch stretches you apart. 

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Infantilization

Again, no matter how smart, experienced, and capable you may be, you're none of those things to him. You're a fragile, little thing. He has to take care of you at all times. It may not be evident at first, and he himself likely doesn't fully realize it, but there is something highly sexual to this for him. Caring for you puts him in a position of dominance, control. It gives him access to your privacy, dressing you up, fingers running over your skin, bathing you, watching your skin glisten. He'll talk to you in this way, too, often softly, remarking every little way in which you need him, and even condescendingly so. He wants you to be his, not only in a sense of love, but of possession.

Oral

Primarily giving. Even on its own, he loves the taste, but the effect it has on you makes it that much better. He loves anything that forces you to depend on him entirely for pleasure, that puts you at his mercy. And he'll be torturous about it too, restraining your arms and legs so you can't control anything, hold your hips down so you can't roll into him, so that only he can determine exactly how much pressure and speed you get. And he won't rush it, no, he'll go so slowly it's torturous, and telling you very simply that if you want any more, you'll have to beg.

Edging

For a variety of reasons. The power trip is as exhilarating as it is pleasurable, but he also loves watching your body writhe. Each little muscle that moves under the flesh when your arms strain against his hand holding your wrists together, the convulsing of your stomach muscles, the way your toes curl and legs spasm and the sweet little whimpers you make when he draws back just short of your high. He's mastered watching your reactions, knowing exactly when to stop, even if you try to mask it. He'll want you to tell him, though, nonetheless, tell him when you're close, if for nothing else but the sense of you obeying his commands.

Collaring

Similarly to infantilization, it gives him something of a sense of control, of possession. He loves seeing his name engraved on it, marking the whole of your being with his ownership. In his somewhat rare moments of roughness, he'll want to pull on it, use it to draw you towards him, in a moment of your defiance, in particular. If you're being mouthy, whiny, disobedient, and you finally make him snap, especially if you try to walk away from him, he'll yank you back with force, pulling you close to him, and when the force of it shuts you up, changes your demeanor, forces you to acknowledge your submission - the satisfaction he'll get from that is incomparable.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

As much as he likes the idea, to him, you're already like a child, naive and fragile. Could your body even handle a pregnancy, a birth? He'd likely try to avoid it, but in the end, if it happened by accident anyway, rest assured you'd be getting the best care of any woman to ever be pregnant in Teyvat, and he'd do everything in his power to ensure you were always comfortable, taking his caretaking to another level, almost never even letting you get up, insisting you stay still and calm and needy.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

He'd be one to pull the "it doesn't hurt you as much as it does me" line, but really, even if he refuses to admit it to his own self, having you bent over his lap is just as much for his own enjoyment as it is a disciplinary measure. It's more humiliating than it is painful -- he'd hold back, afraid of hurting you with his strength, but taking in every little flinch and whimper you make as he brings his hand down on your ass, keeping your head pressed down, kneading at the flesh. He'd insist it's the most effective punishment measure, but you can feel the hard-on digging into your stomach. The worse the behavior, the worse the beating, but every time, after it's over, he'll hold you upright, wiping the tears from your eyes and asking you if you learned you lesson, if you intend to do it again, and smiling when you insist you won't.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Your skin. It's beautiful, and he loves the way that light from the moon and sun look on your naked form. He loves the way your skin feels, soft and delicate, smooth, so paper thin and fragile, and so, so deliciously prone to showing marks from the slightest of harm - a simple smack can make the plump flesh darkened and reddened, the lightest suckling will leave beautiful hickeys all down your neck and chest. There are so many ways to mark his property, to stake a visible claim all over you, it's irresistible.

He also will go out of his way, when picking out all the things he wants you to wear, to find colors that best go with your skin tone, in a contrasting sense - particularly lacey, sheer things that contrast very well, so he can see your soft flesh perfectly defined against the little lace patterns.

[himitsu-luna]

Headcanon

⸰ֺ⭑Nct 127 - Ideal types⭑ֺ⸰

❥︎𑁍 Taeil

Someone like the moon. Serene, a comforting presence, humble, but that still possesses various interesting facets and is able to light the darkest room. Someone with a magnetic aura, whose presence is subtle, but when they are not around, they are definetely missed. Someone soft who inspire romantic thoughts and actions. Someone cute but that doesn't realize it. Someone silly who makes him smile and laugh at the smallest things, that vibes with him in a deeper level. Someone simple, as chill as him, as free spirited as him, who will be up to do anything with him. Someone who has the ability to make the most complicated thing look easy, that can vanish any bad feelings with a reassuring smile or touch. Someone that appreciates his entire being and all of his perfect imperfections.

❥︎𑁍 Johnny

Someone like the sun. Spontaneous, warm, bright, inviting, that makes him feel that life would be impossible without them. Someone that smiles a lot and laughs easily, that is kind of random. Someone visionary, free, that just catches his hand and says "let's go!". Someone who is genuine in everything they do and say, that sees no problem in saying "I'm sorry" or "I was wrong". Someone hardworking, that works more for others than for themselves. Someone with whom he can have cheesy pick up lines battles and that can make him flustered at the end. Someone that has firm steps and knows where they are going, that has a broad vision of life. Someone balanced, 50% emotional and 50% rational.

❥︎𑁍 Taeyong

Someone like a lighthouse. Always there to guide him, to show him that he is not alone, to show him the way when he feels lost, someone he knows that will be there for him, waiting for him at that same spot, with unchanged feelings. Someone dependable and reliable, with a motherly instinct, but that still has their inner child jumping and playing at times. Someone wise, from whom he can always learn a new thing. Someone that can make him slow down sometimes to enjoy a peaceful afternoon. Someone that can read, match and change his moods, that knows exactly what to do in every situation, that makes him feel safe and understood. Someone that goes to him with open arms and always listen to him before listening to anyone else.

❥︎𑁍 Yuta

Someone like a painting. Expressive, colorful, admirable, interesting, full of layers, that show themselves completely, but there's always some detail yet to be discovered if you look at them from a different angle. Someone fair, just, loyal, that kind of person that you can trust completely. Someone that actually doesn't fall for his pranks, because they are always one step ahead. Someone playful, sincere, open minded, free of judgements, that just want people to be happy and prays everyday for this world to get peace. Someone who matches his intensity, but is far from being competitive. Someone strong, maybe tough, but that has soft spots for a lot of cute little things. Someone kind and generous, that is always ready to help others.

❥︎𑁍 Doyoung

Someone like a precious crystal. Beautiful, transparent, formed with a lot of patience, that takes the hardships in life to become a better person, that seems delicate but is actually very strong, extremely precious and valuable in every way. Someone with an extremely good heart and a charming great mind. Someone who forgives easily, even though they shouldn't. Someone who is good with words, that expresses themselves well, that is honest with their feelings and share them with him. Someone who has the sense of commitment and give their all in the relationship. Someone who gets along with his family and friends. Someone who has eyes just for him, that is his supporting system, his number one fan, that recognizes all of his efforts. Someone who truly listen to others and keep in their hearts everyone's story.

❥︎𑁍 Jaehyun

Someone like an old love song. Filled with tender emotions, ageless, classic, someone who evoque sweet memories everytime he looks at them, someone who validates his thoughts and feelings. Someone who makes him miss them, that makes him smile with just one text message. Someone that doesn't push or rush him, that is in the same wavelenght as him, that walk in the same pace as him, that makes him feel comfortable and relaxed, that brings harmony to his life. Someone encouraging, that makes him gladly go out of his comfort zone sometimes. Someone entertaining, creative, that comes up with the most brilliant and funny thoughts from time to time. Someone fascinating, charming, passionate, that speaks with their whole body when they get excited.

❥︎𑁍 Winwin

Someone like the ocean. Deep, pacific, that makes him feel free and calm, that has the strong power to pull him to them, that gives him that feeling that the world is huge and there's so many things he doesn't know yet . Someone who gets his walls down, that makes him wanting to be the chaser. Someone who accepts him, who understands him, who doesn't suffocate or pressure him on acting in a certain way. Someone considerate, respectful, a gentle and ethereal soul. Someone that people may label as traditional, but that has a truly rich inner world, that they share only with him. Someone that quietly takes care of him just for the sake of caring, without any greed or second intentions.

❥︎𑁍 Jungwoo

Someone like a flower. Sweet, unique, fresh, that attracts people to them, fill everyone with happiness and with the feeling that at the end things will be alright and that life is indeed beautiful and worth living. Someone supportive, that will stay by his side and will make him their priotity. Someone who shows unconditional trust on him, on his feelings, on his thoughts, that makes him feel confident about himself. Someone with a hint of a genius mind, that can follow his thoughts, and that has thousands of hobbies, because they like to keep their mind running. Someone who won't deny his affection and will give him all the hugs he needs.

❥︎𑁍 Mark

Someone like the sky. Pure, sincere, soft, clear, that shelters everybody under their veil with no prejudice, that makes him want to fly high. Someone easy to deal with, that doesn't like conflicts, but that also knows how to protect themselves and the ones that need to be protected. Someone who gets involved in his daily life, that shows interest in the things he does. Someone empathetic, positive, cute, kind, soft spoken, that sees the bright side of the world. Someone who feels like a best friend, that greet him with a high five followed by a sweet little peck. Someone overall calm and chill, but that also has lots of chaotic moments that makes him burst into giggles.

❥︎𑁍 Haechan

Someone like the stars. Cute, special, lovely, that shines on their own and helps others find their own light, that is there even if you don't see them, that makes his eyes sparkle. Someone as wild as him, as intelligent as him, that thinks quick and acts quicker. Someone sweet and friendly, that makes sure everyone feels included. Someone who recognizes him and takes him seriously, that talks to him about any subject: politics, food, tv shows, science, business, everything. Someone affectionate, that hugs him, kisses him, that says him at the end of the day "You did great!". Someone that gently point him his hits and misses, that is always leading him to improvement. Someone mature yet carefree, funny and bubbly at their core.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•° Anon, here is your request! I hope you like it! (I'm not actually satisfied with it, maybe I'll change it in the future, but feel free to give me a feedback! )✨

•° taglist - @starrdustville @mairah-shaikh @cupidluvstarrz @kpopsnowball @kaepopsicle

* If you want to be added to or removed from the taglist, just send me an ask or a message (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

•° Masterlist

...

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Take Care of Me

Pairing = Santiago x reader

Words = 5.5k

Summary = A discussion about sex toys turns into something more … concrete

Warnings = Swearing, talk/description of mild anxiety. SMUT (18+ only), use of handcuffs in a sexy way, oral, piv sex

A/N = Prompt no.8 requested by @itspdameronthings​ as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much, hope you like it! Prompt was “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself” w/santi and bolded in text. Also 3 things; 1 = Tom doesn’t exist in this AU, 2 = this is basically pure smut im so sorry, and 3 = I did do head hopping in this, which I know you’re not like supposed to do but also fuck the rules y’know?

Posted to AO3

Masterlist

***

It’s always easy to be loose after one of Benny’s fights.

It’s a heady mix of adrenaline, beer and testosterone, swirling together into a mix that makes you forget your normal boundaries. You’re normally quite brazen about your sex life anyway, but there is a line. You respect your partners, and there’s no need for your teammates to know too much.  

You’re all packed into a half-moon booth, Benny straddling a chair that he pulled up to the table after he spent too long chatting up the bartender.

It’s a small comment from Benny (because of course it’s Benny), saying that you haven’t got laid in a while, and you’re honestly surprised he noticed. But then, that’s the only predictable thing about Benny, that he is unpredictable.

Your surprise means you take a little too long actually thinking about it, which confirms Benny’s statement. You lean back a little in your seat, desperately ignoring Santi, who’s sat to your left. It also means you bite back a little harder in defence.

“Well maybe if you guys didn’t look like you’re about to murder anyone who even dares ask for my number maybe I’d have better luck.” That’s a lie, but there’s no way you’re going to tell them the truth. No way you’re going to tell Santi-

Your thoughts are interrupted by Will, sat to your right. “So you’re asking for our help?”

You scoff, hitting him up the head. “No, thank you.” Will knows why. Because of course he does. One of your oldest friends, he’d been the one who convinced you to join the team in the first place. “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself.”

You send a wink down to the table to Benny, who’s the first to catch on, hollering, and you try not to react to Santi leaning forward, suddenly interested, as though you’re not already hyper-aware of every body movement of his.

You continue, deciding you’re quite enjoying the effect you’ve had. “What do I need some stranger for when I can give myself a better orgasm than he could ever dream of?” You take a sip of your drink to hide your grin, as both Benny and Will holler, gaining a few glares from the pub’s other patrons.

That sip means you’re unprepared for Santi to lean in closer to you, his lips so close to your ear that you can feel his breath. “Maybe ‘stranger’ is where you’re going wrong.”

You swallow, unprepared for the sudden flare of attraction shooting through you and turning your head, just as he says, “I could take care of you.”

You catch a glimpse of Santi’s fuck me eyes when Benny (the dickhead) interrupts. Crossing his arms on the sticky table in front of him, he asks, “Does that mean you have toys?”

Frankie’s hat somehow tips lower on his head, if that’s possible.

Will twitches towards his brother, like he wants to strangle Benny for being so uncouth, but you put your hand on his upper arm. “Of course.” The best course of action is to just act like this is normal, so add a bit of air to your voice. This was normal. “Who doesn’t?”

There’s a blush rising on Benny’s cheeks and you can’t help but stoke it, grinning at him, and attempting your best bedroom eyes. He’s still not too ashamed to ask though. “What kinds?”

Will decides he’s had enough, glancing at Santi behind you with a frown and hitting Benny over the head in an imitation of the way you’d hit him. You laugh, unexpectedly pleased at the reaction you’ve gotten. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Benny nods, eager, even as Will stands, grabbing a hold of him, and steering him towards the bar. “Yes! Yes I would!” He manages to throw back at you and you laugh again, twisting your body to face Santi and Frankie, bringing your left leg onto the bench.

***

Meanwhile Santiago is in hell. He’s been in multiple hellish situations before, most similar to this one, in that it was always the 5 of you, bullets flying around your heads, rifles in your arms, weighed down by heat and sweat and tac vests.

And yet somehow, he thinks this might be the worst. Your foot next to his thigh, your knee bent, pulling your jeans up your leg and exposing your ankle to him. Watching you flirt with Benny, talking about sex, and toys, and masturbation. When that's all he wants to do with you. He just has to get the courage to tell you.

With you, there was a before in Santi’s life, and an after.

Before he knew you; and after he knew you.

Before he loved you; and after he loved you.

Except Santi’s not quite sure when he fell in love with you.

It started when Will introduced you as the newest member of the team, one of his childhood friends. He didn’t mean for it to happen, he treated you like he treated anyone else, quickly discovering that you weren’t like anyone else.

He welcomed you into his life with open arms, starting off innocently - he wanted to spend time with you. You were Will’s friend, which meant that there must be something good about you. You made him laugh, made him feel safe (even when he wasn’t). He’d wanted to do the same for you and thought he did a pretty good job.

He became your friend, until one day the two of you were watching a film. He can’t remember what it was, just that you were at his house, drinking and laughing and talking, huddled in one of his blankets, and looking like you belonged there, forever.

Falling in love with you was so easy, Santi didn’t even realise he was doing it.

Santi’s still impressed with himself that he didn’t just blurt out the words then and there. I love you.

How long had he been in love with you for? He couldn’t pinpoint down a specific moment. He remembered the night when you’d become friends - the last two around the bonfire, toasting marshmallows, making that awkward small-talk that occurs between acquaintances.

You’d made him laugh, playing chubby-bunny and teasing him until he’d had a go. You’d talked and talked, and Santi can’t even remember what about. Nothing, probably. The basics. Boring stuff, but filled with details that he’d used to keep the conversation going the next day.

He knows when he became your friend. Recognised when you trusted him more than the others, with the exception of maybe Will.

But he didn’t know when he fell in love with you. Just the day that the love became so overwhelming in his chest that he realised it.

The real nail in his metaphorical coffin was the night afterwards. The 5 of you had gone to a bar, and a girl had started talking to him as he was buying drinks. She was pretty, but she wasn’t you. And like a flashbulb, all of Santi’s previous partners flew through his mind and he realised that nothing had ever come out of them because they weren’t you.

They didn’t know how he liked his coffee, or why he had joined the military. They didn’t know the story behind his callsign, or what his favourite song was.

You did. What you weren’t there for, you asked about. You remembered. You made him feel important, like he mattered. In ways that he didn’t even really know existed.

You were the one that started him on decaf without telling him. That had been a conversation and a half. Before morning briefings, you’d started bringing him coffees. He hadn’t noticed much of a taste difference, and shamefully, had come to expect them.

Until, a month later, you weren’t there. A small trip home to visit your family, everyone knew you’d be back in a couple of days. Regardless, Santi had ordered what he’d thought was his usual coffee.

And found his anxiety rearing up again. It was subtle, making him more jumpy, less able to sleep, but it was there. He wasn’t sure what the cause was, definitely hadn’t linked it to the coffee, instead assuming that maybe he just missed you. Maybe because his anxiety hadn’t disappeared all the way, even with decaf. Maybe it was because it was your presence that helped him too.

He hadn’t even really noticed when the caffeine was gone, hadn’t noticed the absence of something wrong, only seeing the contrast when it returned. Maybe because it was gradual, the weaning off the caffeinated coffee, whereas the return, with his request of additional shot, had been too sharp for him.

You hadn’t noticed at first, assuming that Santi’s bear hug when he’d first seen you had just been because he missed you. But after lunch you pulled him to one side.

“Are you alright?” Your eyes are slightly wider with worry, and you’re chewing slightly on your bottom lip.

He hates that he’s the one to do that to you, and he tries to brush it off. “I’m fine.” That was his first mistake. His second was trying to push past you.

“Santiago!” He’s pulled up short, and there’s that tension, pulling at his shoulders, his eyebrows. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Your tone of voice hasn’t changed, but this time it’s a command.

Exhausted, hating himself, Santi drags his hands across his face. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I don’t...I don’t know.” He takes a breath, and it shudders through him. “I don’t know.” He sounds defeated, and he hopes you can’t hear it. “I just...I feel…” How does he feel? “Jittery.” Is what he finally settles on, but the word still feels wrong somehow.

You frown, looking him up and down like you’ve never seen him before. In fact, you’re silent for so long, Santi starts to be worried that you’re going to tell him to stop being so fucking ridiculous.

You don’t, but you ask questions.

Has he been sleeping? “Not really.”

Does he have something big coming up? “Just the usual.”

Has his daily routine changed at all? “No, I don’t think so. I get myself a coffee in the morning and the-”

You interrupt him with a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.” And now it’s wrong, because now you’re looking at him like it’s your fault, when it definitely isn’t. “Santi I’m sorry. It’s your coffee.”

Santi frowns. His coffee? And you sound so apologetic, and he doesn’t understand why. “I switched you to decaf.” You can’t meet his eyes any more, gaze skittering to his shoulder with nerves. And you’re not shutting up. “I’m sorry, I should have told you, or asked if I could, I just... I knew you were getting nightmares, and decaf helped me so I thought it might help y-”

Santi cuts you off with a hug.

And now, the three of you sat in the booth, he hates himself for agreeing with Benny. He would like to know. He has a sneaking suspicion, odd little comments you’ve made throughout the years that when pieced together, paint a picture. A very vivid picture that he sometimes uses to torture himself, late at night in bed, imagining what you’d look like with your hands between your legs and wrapping a hand around his-

Santi shakes his head. Now is not the time. There’s never really a good time to fantasise about one of your best friends, but in public when they’re sitting next to you, is definitely one of the worst.

And why did he have to offer to take care of you? Did he think he was in some kind of cheesy porno? What if you hated him-

In the end, it’s you who breaks him out of his thoughts. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed Pope.” You push out with your foot, lightly kicking his thigh, unable to read his stony face.

Throughout all of this, Frankie has kept quiet, and now the conversation seems like it’ll be returning to safer ground, he rubs a hand over his face, lifting his hat slightly. “No.” Santi protests, although he says it too fast for it to be sincere. “I’m not embarrassed.”

“Good,” you reply, and Santi can see the moment a thought pops into your head that you can’t resist, he can see it in the way your eyes light up with mischief. “Out of all the boys, I figured you’d be the most likely to use toys.”

Frankie quickly slides out from his seat, muttering something about going to the toilet, his cheeks aflame, as Santi chokes a little on his beer. “Or maybe Will,” you muse, and Santi coughs again. “Shit, are you alright?” You ask, rocking forward to lean on your knee so you can rub Santi’s back for a second.

He concentrates on getting himself back under control, on not focusing how warm your hand is against his back. He takes deep breaths in an attempt to calm his heart down, praying that the room is dark enough that you won’t see him blush.  

Santi nods, his eyes watering a little, and you laugh, but it’s not unkind, not even when one of your thumbs wipes at his lower lash line, brushing away his tears with the pad. It’s so unexpectedly soft, another sharp contrast to this sticky, seedy bar they’re all in, where the booth seats are cracked and the most complicated drink they make is a rum and coke.

“Good,” you say, voice quiet, scooting back on the bench, your foot closer to his thigh this time, and Santi hates himself for wanting to follow you.

Instead, he pretends everyone else is still here, even as he watches Will whisper something into Benny’s ear as they stand, drinking next to the bar, with no clear intention of returning. Suddenly Benny punches Will’s upper arm, and Santi’s eyebrows twitch slightly in confusion. Benny looks ecstatic, and for what?

“I’ve used handcuffs,” he says casually, half of his mind taken up with Benny and Will acting like lunatics at the bar behind you. He’s wrenched back to you when you raise an eyebrow, and he’s reminded what it feels like to be the centre of your world.

Fuck, you’re sexy though.

***

Your heart beat speeds up, suddenly sounding loud in your chest. Your mind is screaming Danger! at you - but how can it be? This is Santiago. You would trust him with your life. You have.

I could take care of you, flashes through your mind again. Maybe-

“Yeah?” You ask, trying to act calm when there’s a steady thrumming under your skin. “And are you the tied up person, or do you do the tying?”

Santi scoffs, like he thinks the answer is obvious. Maybe it is.

“I do the tying.”

You smirk, dragging an exaggerated eye up and down his body. “Sure about that?”

He looks relaxed, like he can take up more space now Frankie has gone. One of his hands is on your calf, gently trailing up and down, slowly setting you on fire, and you don’t even think he realises he’s doing it. There’s something in his eyes that you don’t recognise, darker, although it seems familiar. That’s been happening more and more lately, especially when it’s just the two of you. You like it.

“You want to test me babygirl?”

You feel breathless. “Maybe I’d like to try.”

You’ve never spoken with Santi like this before. You flirt with him more than the other boys, but this is new. This feels...real, somehow. More dangerous. And he’s closer now, shifting, so your foot is over his lap, his hand wrapped around your ankle, on your bare skin and you’ve forgotten how to breathe. You watch his hand move on your leg and you feel like you could evaporate.  

“That’s not what good girls do.” Fuck, his voice.

“Good girls don’t do a lot of things I do.”

And you’re not sure what gives you the sudden confidence, but you lean forwards, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. It’s a horrible angle, your legs in the way, but you don’t care.

And then you’re retreating, opening your eyes again, suddenly unsure of what you’ve just done. Your mouth feels tingly, where you can still feel Santi against you. His grip has tightened on your leg, no longer moving.

And then his hand is tugging at you a little, and there’s a smile threatening to take over his face.

Come here.

You scoot up, so your left leg is fully over him, your right leg tangling with his under the table and you can smell him now, beer and - as weird as it sounds - like a man. It’s familiar. Nice. Breathless, you shoot him a little grin, suddenly unsure.

And then he’s kissing you again and it’s everything you ever dreamed of. His lips are soft, but firm, moving against your mouth, contrasting with the slight stubble growing on his face. His free hand moves to your waist and you let out a small sound.

You break apart after a second, both of you breathless. You’ve slung your arms around his neck, fingers idly playing with his chain, and you’re the first to speak.

“So do you use those handcuffs on anyone?”

Santi kisses you again, short and sweet, before he answers, his lips mumbling against yours. “Hmm, just on girls I really like.”

You kiss again, neither of you really wanting to stop. “Can I use them on you?” Santi asks, moving to kiss along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe. You feel surrounded by him, he’s all you care about, all you can feel.

Your eyes snap open, desire pooling in your belly. Is this really happening? “Yes.”

“Good.” Santi’s voice is still low in your ear, before he moves down your neck, soft lips a stark contrast to his stubble catching on your skin. “How do you feel about a date, too?”

“Yeah?” You lean back slightly so you can see his face. He’s beautiful in this light, face half hidden in the shadows, eyes dark.

His lips are brushing yours again.

“Yeah. I’ll pick you up, take you somewhere nice, do it properly.”

“Good,” you mumble against him, “that sounds really good.” Your fingers are still playing with his chain, lightly brushing against the scar on his neck. “Shall we go?”

Before you know it, the two of you are sitting in a cab, having said a quick goodbye to the others, Will asking if it was safe for them to sit back in the booth. You’d responded with the finger, not bothering with a proper reply.

Santi leans over to you, whispering into your ear. “Can I really tie you up?”

You clench your thighs together, closing your eyes in an effort not to physically respond. The pause is enough for Santi to hesitate, hand shyly holding yours. “It’s ok, if you don’t want to, that’s fine, it was just a-”

You stop him with a kiss, moving your hand so you can squeeze him in reassurance. When you answer, it’s a mumble against his mouth so the driver doesn’t hear. “Break out the handcuffs, and we’ll see if you’re as tough as you act, big boy.”

Santi groans when you lean away from him.

Getting inside Santi’s flat is a feat in itself, and you’re honestly a little proud of the restraint both of you showed by not fucking in the stairwell, stopping every couple of meters to kiss each other senseless, hips clumsily knocking together as you rile each other up.

You’ve been inside his flat before, so when Santi kicks the door closed, walking you backwards into his bedroom, kissing you all the while, you don’t protest. It’s so nice to finally kiss Santi like you’ve wanted to for a while now, so nice to feel his hands on your waist, pushing you backwards while his hips press into yours, steady now, purposeful.

His fingers are playing with the waist of your trousers, and you help him, shimmying your jeans off, pushing them down your thighs and letting them fall to the floor. Then he surprises you, dropping to his knees in front of you, pulling your knickers down your legs.

Looking down, you feel dizzy from the rush of power this brings you. Santi looks like he’s about to worship you, his face close to your pussy. His hands are on your waist and he pushes at you, encouraging you to step back.

When you don’t he tips his head back, exposing his neck to you. “Step back.” His voice is dangerous and you can feel more wetness gathering between your legs. You grin down at him, still not moving.

In response Santi nips at your thigh, grinning when you gasp, hands flying to his hair. He pushes at you again, and this time you let him, stepping back until you hit his bed, sitting down.

Santi presses his hand against your stomach, and you allow yourself to be pushed back, falling back onto your elbows so you can watch him. He presses his nose to your mound and you squirm, impatient, as Santi spreads your knees so he can fit between your legs.

You watch him press his nose to your pussy, burying his nose in you, feeling yourself grow wetter. “You taste so good,” he groans, “Sweetest pussy I’ve tasted.” As he begins to explore you with his tongue, your hips lift off the bed with a groan and it takes you a second to recognise your own voice, broken with need. Santi’s arm reaches out, pressing you down as he explores your folds. Stubble is scratching your thighs, a pleasantly rough feeling compared to the soft wetness, the pliability of Santi’s tongue. Your clit is the first thing he concentrates on, his tongue practically lapping at you, and it all feels so good.

One hand is desperately fisting the sheets to the side of you as you try to hold on to reality, the other knotted in Santi’s short curls, nails scraping ever so slightly along his scalp even as he lifts you higher and higher. Broken pleas of his name fall from your lips when he inserts two fingers into you, gently pumping in and out, with a strangely satisfying squelch under your cries.

Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow and unsuspecting. One second your chest is heaving, breaths short and shallow, the next you’ve tensed up as you fall apart under Santi.

He keeps kissing you, gently pressing his lips over your thighs, hips, stomach as you stare at his ceiling, willing rational thought to return to you. He’s murmuring praises into your skin, telling you how good you are for him, what a good job you’ve done, how pretty you look when you come, how he wants to make you do it again, and all the while you float somewhere above your body, hardly daring to believe this is real. Santi keeps kissing you, any skin he can get his mouth on, desperate to keep tasting you. Gradually he moves up your body, even as you lie there, panting, letting him push your top up, bunching under your arms and around your neck.

Your hands fly to his hair when he bites the soft skin of your breast peeking out from your bra, and you arch your back towards him slightly, letting out a small whine. You can feel his smirk against you, so you wrap your legs around his waist, canting your hips up, grinding against where you can feel him, hard and aching in his jeans.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, slow and lazy when Santi lets out a low growl in response. He tips his head up so he can look at you, his eyes soft as he smiles at you. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

And then his body weight is gone and he’s standing next to the bed, taking his top off and it’s not the first time you’ve seen him shirtless, of course it isn’t, but it’s the first time you’ve seen him and been allowed to look, and Santi’s all shadows and soft muscle, pale scars highlighted on his skin.

You sit up, and it takes you a second to fight your way out of your top, quickly sliding the straps of your bra off, and dropping your clothes to the side of the bed as you watch Santi cross his room, and fish out a pair of handcuffs from a box with a couple of other objects inside, as well as what you’re pretty sure looks like a strap-on. And maybe it’s because his ass is currently in your eye-line, maybe it’s the surprise, but the image of you wearing it, teasing Santi with your dick while he waits on all fours on his bed, begging for you to touch him, suddenly pops into your head, and you have to work to hold back a moan at the mental image. Oh my god.

When Santi turns back to you, he’s opened the cuffs. “Are you familiar with the traffic light system?”

You suddenly feel nervous, your mouth dry, and you don’t know why, this is Santi. He’s made it clear that you don’t have to do this, and anyway you want to. “Green is good, orange is slow down, red is stop,” you recite easily, and Santi nods in satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he says and his words hit deep in your stomach, unfurling something you hadn’t known existed. “You say something and I’ll untie you.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back on your hands, eyeing up the way Santi’s jeans are still on, now hanging low on his hips, exposing a small trail of hair down from his bellybutton. “What if I don’t want you to untie me?” You ask.

You can see how his eyes darken, but he doesn’t move. “Tell me you understand,” he says, voice stern and you shiver.

“I understand,” you parrot. Santi nods, pleased at you doing as he says, and steps out of his jeans, pulling his boxers off at the same time, releasing his cock. He’s hard, curving up towards his stomach and leaking pre-cum.

Almost on instinct, you lean forwards to lick it off, and Santi lets out a groan of satisfaction at the sensation of your mouth just wrapping around his head, your hands on his thighs. Before you can take him any further, he’s stepping back, shaking his head.

“Lie back,” he instructs, and you obey. Santi kneels next to you, tugging your wrists up, above your head, looping the handcuffs through his headboard and clicking them on around you. You give them an experimental tug, biting back a moan when they hold fast. “Colour?” Santi asks, and you grin up at him.

���Green.” Your voice already sounds broken. “Santi, please.”

Santi just kneels back, looking at you with those hungry eyes. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes out, hands running up and down your body, ignoring how you squirm as best you can under him.

“Oh yeah?” You ask. “Why don’t you come down here then, instead of just watching me?” Santi’s hands reach your breasts, squeezing and gently massaging and you arch your back towards him.

“You’re unhappy with my hands?” Santi returns, and stops touching you. You can’t help it, letting out a whine and straining to move your arms towards him, before remembering you can’t, your attempted movement jangling the chain a little.

“No, Santi,” you’re desperate for him to touch you again, especially now you can’t touch him,“Santi please, touch me again, touch me more.” Begging has never come so easily to you. And then Santi’s moving between your legs, gripping your hips and thrusting up, but not into you, just along your folds. You moan, shifting as best as you can while Santi coats himself with your slick, the head of his cock just pushing your clit, teasing you and riling you up further.

You suddenly really want to touch him, to rake your hands through his hair, to scratch your nails down his back, to be able to suck a purple hickey into his skin. You let your head fall back to the bed, pushing your hips towards him, desperate for more, desperate for him.

It’s only when you open your mouth in a desperate plea, a whine of his name, “Santi, Santi please,” that he begins to push into you.

Your mouth falls open in silent pleasure, just as Santi begins to talk. “Fuck, baby.” The stretch of him is delicious. “I wanted this for so long.” Now fully seated in you, he rests on his forearms, kissing you softly, first on the forehead, then on your lips. “Colour?” he asks softly.

You nearly cry from how sweet it is, how sweet he is, before responding, a mumble against his lips. “Green.” You feel full, like this is how you’re supposed to feel all the time, this is your base state, and you’re going to spend the rest of your life trying to achieve this specific feeling.

“Good girl,” Santi murmurs and you keen at the praise, feeling insatiable, wanting more, clenching around him. He grins, registering your response. “You liked that? You like being told what a good job you’re doing, how good you feel around me..” he breaks off with a gasp, and your eyes close as Santi begins to move in time with his words, long, slow thrusts as he begins to put you together again, building you up, further and further, his thrusts speeding up gradually, the sound of his dick sliding into your wetness, and the slap of skin-on-skin loud in his room, mixing with your moans.

You lift your legs up, wrapping them around his waist, hooking one of your feet around Santi’s butt. They don’t stay there for long, one of Santi’s arms pushing one leg up your body, hand under your knee as he splits you open. The new angle hits something deeper in you, and you gasp, unable to move and at the mercy of Santiago.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, coming out of nowhere, your lower body suddenly clenching around Santi, arms straining against the handcuffs, as you try in vain to touch him. You tumble through it, muscles spasming as you fall under him. He keeps moving into you as you shudder below him, pulling you through with murmured praise and encouragement as another broken cry leaves your throat.

His thrusts start to get sloppier as he goes faster, losing his rhythm slightly and you can tell he’s near his end. As best you can, you start moving your own hips, grinding up to meet him, words of encouragement slipping past your lips. “Santi, you feel so good, are you gonna fill me up?” You coo, pouting a little, tugging your wrists a little for emphasis. “Please Santi, I want to feel you, come in me, please-”

You stop when Santi snaps his hips once more, with a groan of finality and you can feel his cum inside of you as he holds himself there, his cock pulsing within you. He presses a couple more gentle kisses to your neck before sliding out, and you hiss slightly at the pull on your sensitive folds of your pussy.

He leaves for a second, returning with a key and gently releasing your wrists. “Good girl,” he murmurs, massaging your skin. “You did so good for me.”

He helps you sit up, kissing your cheek before leaving again. This time when he returns, he has a wet rag, and a glass of water, which you take a sip from, not having realised how thirsty you were. He gently dabs the rag on the inside of your thighs first, and the two of you watch in slightly morbid fascination as Santi’s cum leaks out of you onto the rag.

“That’s kinda hot,” you comment idly, wondering if Santi fucked all sense of you.

He only laughs, wiping the mess away and cuddling up next to you. “Do you want me to do it again?” he asks as you lean into his arms, his hands wrapping around your wrists to rub circles into your skin.

“Yes,” you answer, probably too quickly but beyond caring.

“Good.”

There’s a pause, and you can tell Santi wants to ask you something, so you twist in his arms, kissing along his shoulder. The act feels small, and innocent somehow, despite your states of undress, as you try to reassure him.

“You were right,” you murmur near his ear, “Stranger was where I was going wrong.”

It takes him a second to piece your reference together, but then he grins, and it’s like he hung the sun in the sky. “Yeah? I took care of you?”

You kiss him again, this time on the lips, biting back your own identical grin. “Yeah.”

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

Tags: @fantasticcopeaglepasta​

[stargazing-enby]

“I can’t believe you told them you were my fiancé” + Drarry 😘

Thank you @stavromulabetaaa @secretlycrazyhummingbird and anon for your prompts! I turned them into a New Years story, I hope that's all right 😁 

Thanks @april-thelightfury115 for betaing!

Drarry | 2k | Teen and Up | Fake Fiancés, Auror Partners, Locked Down Together, Love Confessions | Read on AO3

“...And we’re still unsure whether the situation will be safe enough for us to marry in spring, so that’s why we haven’t organised much yet. Don’t worry, you’ll be the first to know as soon as we have a date.”

Harry, mind still fuzzy with sleep, empty mug in hand, stopped in his tracks by the living room door. Had he heard right?

“We understand, Draco,” came Narcissa’s voice from the Floo. “But you must understand our concerns, too.”

“I do, mother. But you know this was necessary.”

“We do,” Lucius said. “The most important thing is that we’re all safe right now, even if we missed having you home last night.”

Harry didn’t hear the end of the conversation—didn’t notice Draco walking into the kitchen a minute later; he was too busy frowning at the kettle. 

“Morning,” said Draco from behind him. “Didn’t know you were up.”

“Didn’t know you were engaged,” Harry said without thinking—without turning around, without even understanding why he didn’t want to turn around; didn’t want Draco to see the whirl of emotions unravelling in his chest.

“Oh,” Draco said, voice low. “You heard that.”

Harry shook his head, eyes still fixed on the kettle. 

“Not on purpose.” His words came out strained, and he cursed himself inwardly. Why did he even care? It wasn’t like Draco’s personal life was any of his business. Sharing a flat didn’t make them friends, now did it? No matter how much Harry had grown to enjoy having the git around all the time, and watching him fall asleep while they watched telly together at night, and getting to see Draco’s tousled hair in the mornings—

Draco sighed—a slow, heavy sound—and leaned against the counter beside him. Harry did look up at him then, and the maelstrom of emotion probably still all over his face came to an abrupt halt when he realised Draco was holding back a giggle.

“I’m not engaged, Potter,” he said, grin widening. “You look really upset at the idea, though. It’s a cute look on you.”

Draco’s mirth was beautiful, and so, so good at softening Harry from inside out. Still, Harry crossed his arms over his chest with an indignant huff, grumbling, “Sod off, I thought you were keeping an engagement from me!” When Draco only laughed at him, he added, “Why on Earth do your parents think you’re engaged, then?” 

“I’ll tell you,” Draco said through another giggle, “but don’t murder me. I’m the best Auror partner you’ll ever have.”

Harry just raised his eyebrows at him—curiosity and concern mixing with a subtle hint of betrayal that refused to fade away just yet.

“My parents are…very traditional,” Draco started.

“I’d gathered that much, thank you.”

“Shut up, you giant prick. The thing is, they firmly believe people must live with their parents or on their own until they marry. Sharing a living space with anyone other than your spouse is…improper to them. I’m sure I don’t need to go into detail as to why.”

“You really don’t,” Harry said, grimacing. 

“So when I told them I was moving in with you temporarily, I sort of…kind of…had to tell them we were engaged, and the only reason I was moving in with you before getting married was that we wanted to wait until the pandemic was over to have a big wedding with all our loved ones.”

To Harry’s credit, he didn’t drop the mug full of piping hot coffee all over himself.

He did gape at Draco for a good three seconds, though.

“Your parents think we’re engaged?”

“That’s what I said, yes.” Draco had the decency to look sheepish, at least. “If it’s any consolation, they also trust me to remain chaste until my wedding night, so they don’t think you and I have—”

“Oh my god.”

“I would never, anyway. They raised me well.”

“Stop. Shut up.” Harry rested the mug on the kitchen table—sat heavily on a chair, gaze unfocused. “But didn’t you explain—”

“I did explain to them I was moving in with you because we work together and it’s safest to have you as the only person in my bubble so I don’t put them at risk, yes. They argued I had enough money to rent a place for myself, and I panicked and told them you and I had plans to marry anyway, so it wasn’t all that bad, since they trust me to wait until my wedding night to—” 

“Yeah, yes, got it.” Harry pressed his eyes closed, desperately trying to will images of a virginal Draco Malfoy draped over a white king-sized bed from his mind. “Were you planning on telling me any of this? You’ve been here for weeks…” 

“I was, of course.” 

Harry side-eyed him.

“It’s just—I guess…I was waiting for the right time to tell you, and it never really came up. And don’t give me that look! Remember how long it took you to tell me you weren’t dating Ginny anymore?” 

“That’s different!” Harry said. 

“Potter, you let me send both of you a Christmas card as though you were a couple and replied to it with her because it felt too awkward to tell me you’d broken up!” 

Harry took a sip of his coffee to avoid Draco’s gaze. 

“That may be true,” he muttered eventually, when he looked up at Draco again and found him still looking expectantly at him. “But this involves me directly. I mean, what if I’d answered a Floo call from them while you were in the bathroom and they’d brought up the engagement?” 

“Excuse you, I never schedule anything at bathroom hours!” 

“I...don’t want to know what that means.” Would it be too much for him to bury his face in his arms and fall right back asleep? “What are we going to do now?” 

“We wait until lockdown is over and pretend we’ve broken up and are no longer engaged, of course.” 

“What, so your parents hate me forever?” Harry asked. “No, thank you!”

“What do you mean, no thank you? The alternative, in case you hadn’t noticed, is to marry me, Potter!” 

“You’re making my year start with a headache,” Harry groaned. “I hope you’re happy.” 

“Very much so, actually,” Draco said. “Because you will pretend you’re my fiancé over Floo, won’t you? My parents have been asking to talk with you directly, and if it doesn’t happen soon, they’re going to start thinking you’re a bad husband…” 

“Fiancé! I mean—flatmate. Colleague. Ugh. Fine. Fine. I’ll do it,” he said when Draco just pouted dolefully. He couldn’t resist those puppy eyes, dammit. “But I’ll be cursing you to hell and back in my mind the entire time.” 

Draco’s grin was definitely not worth the sacrifice. 

***

“Harry! What a delight to finally be able to talk to you. Draco says you’ve been busy with work matters lately.” 

“Y-Yeah, it’s been chaos,” Harry said, resisting the urge to glare at Draco and hoping Narcissa couldn’t see the puzzle sitting on the coffee table or the stack of movies by the sofa through the Floo. “I’m really glad to see you, too.” Fuck, that’d sounded awfully awkward. “Happy new year, by the way—let’s hope it’s a better one.” 

“Oh, I’m sure it will be. The year an offspring gets married is always among the best of a mother’s life.”

“Right. Of course.” Add ‘upsetting Narcissa terribly’ to the list of reasons to curse Draco. 

“And I imagine it will be an even happier year for you two, especially if a future heir is in the picture by the end of it!” 

ADD ‘ALMOST CHOKING TO DEATH ON MY SALIVA’ TO THE LIST OF REASONS TO—

“Mother, please, I think it’s a little bit to early for that—” 

“I know, I know, sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry at all. “I’m just really excited for you, my Draco. You’ve wanted this for so long…”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Harry, you are one very lucky man, I hope you know that,” Narcissa went on, oblivious to the look Harry and Draco were sharing—the colour drained from Draco’s cheeks, a breath caught in Harry’s lungs. “I do hope you will be taking the Malfoy name, too! It would be an honour to have you as a part of our family tree…”

She went on about the Sacred Twenty-eight for what seemed like forever, and Harry was only vaguely aware of Draco interrupting her with the excuse they had to get back to work and ending the call after a round of good-byes. 

For a moment, they both stared into the faceless flames. 

“You’re not going to buy it if I tell you I really do need to get back to work, right?” Draco said after a moment, voice low. 

“You know the answer to that.” 

Draco huffed. 

“Well, then, go ahead and ask what you want to ask. Don’t make me suffer for longer than necessary.” 

Harry sneaked a glance in Draco’s direction. Unlike a few moments before, his face was a dark shade of red, hand clutching the edge of the carpet, knees drawn close to his chest. 

“I don’t want to ask if you don’t want to tell me,” Harry murmured, looking back into the flames. 

“It’s not like I can Obliviate you,” Draco retorted. “You heard what you heard.”

Harry nodded. 

“That you’ve wanted me for a very long time.”

Draco didn’t reply. 

Harry glanced at Draco’s hand again, now playing nervously with the fringe of the carpet, and, after a moment of hesitation that faded with his next exhale, he reached out and rested his hand on it. Draco’s fingers stilled under his touch, and Draco’s eyes found his—wide, scared, vulnerable. 

He dared run the tips of his fingers over Draco’s knuckles, and his own breath caught when he heard Draco’s hitch. 

“Draco…” Harry started, not knowing what he was even going to say. “The past few weeks have been… they’ve been—”

“Don’t,” Draco said, voice strained. “Don’t. Just—” He looked away again. “Just tell me you just want to be colleagues and be done with it, please.” 

“Maybe that’s not what I want.” He slipped his fingers between Draco’s soft own; squeezed them gently. “Maybe what I want isn’t so different from what you want. You don’t know what’s going on inside my mind. You have no idea what the past few weeks have meant to me.” 

Draco didn’t move under his touch—didn’t seem to move at all, except for the quick, uneven rise and fall of his chest. When he talked, the words came out quickly, in a whisper, as though he was terrified to hear himself say them.

“What are you saying, Potter?”

“What I’m saying is I want more of this. More puzzles, and movies, and more of your way-too-salty chicken soup, and more evenings and mornings by your side. I’m saying I hadn’t realised until very recently how much I want more of you, Draco. But I do. Merlin, I do.” 

A sound somewhere between a whine and a choked cackle came out of Draco’s throat.

“You sound like I’ve actually proposed to you, you idiot,” he groaned. Harry rolled his eyes at him, squeezed his fingers yet again.

“I’m being serious!” he said, unable to hold back a laugh. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m not! I’m just—this whole situation, it’s…”

“I know,” Harry murmured. “But it doesn’t have to be. Things don’t have to be so different now. I mean, we already work together and we’ve been having movie nights every Saturday for, what, three years now? And now we live under the same roof, we cook meals together, we fall asleep together on the couch…Merlin. We’re already like a married couple, aren’t we?” Harry said, horrified. “No wonder your parents bought the engagement story!”

“Wait till I tell you they were actually surprised it hadn’t happened sooner…”

Harry buried his face in his knees to stifle a groan.

“Come on,” he said after a moment, and stood up still holding on to Draco’s hand. “Let’s make some lunch and pretend like this wasn’t the most embarrassing conversation we’ve ever had.”

Draco’s fingers were still comfortably hooked around his as they made their way to the kitchen.

[whisperlullaby]

I Can Treat You Better

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky x Reader

Words 1269

Warnings:  Stalking, mentions of sexual situations, explicit language, allusions to dubcon

Summary: Bucky sees you at a coffee shop and needs to show you he can treat you better than your boyfriend.

A/N: This is based on a prompt sent in by the LOVELY @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog  they wanted stalker Bucky in a coffee shop. Thank you to @river-soul and @syntheticavenger​ for running through this for me. Pure angels the both of you! This is a darker fic for me so please proceed with caution, no minors, and enjoy!

The first time Bucky saw you at the coffee shop it was raining. He was sitting in the corner frantically writing down memories before they left him again. You rushed in off the street clearly caught unprepared by the sudden storm, water droplets glistening on the skin of your chest and exposed legs. Bucky found himself writing down every detail about your disheveled appearance, completely enamored by your sudden entrance into his life. He pulled down his baseball cap when you walked closer to grab some napkins to try to dab the water off. 

“That rain really came out of nowhere huh?” You asked, your voice breathy. 

Bucky could see your skin prickled with goosebumps and your nipples peeking through your thin shirt. Before he could respond, you approached the counter to order your coffee and he was grateful he didn’t need to strain to hear your order so he could write it down, making sure he knew for next time. He noted the time and date on the page as you waited for your coffee scrolling through your phone. You looked so beautiful standing there, and Bucky knew he had to have you. Not a lot of people were fond of the Winter Soldier so he would have to be subtle about it. Learn your interests, your routine, so he could plan a run in, and by the time you figured out who he was, you would already be head over heels for him. It was foolproof.  

When your name was called you perked up and went to the counter to retrieve it. Bucky whispering your name, liking how it felt on his tongue. He heard you thank the barista, your voice like honey and he closed his eyes imagined how you would sound moaning his name as he took your body apart. The chime of the door drew him out of his daydream and by the time his eyes snapped open you were gone.

Bucky spent the next week going to the coffee shop with his eyes trained unblinking at the door. He's caught you two more times walking past the shop causing him to bolt out the door to follow you. He knew you work at a daycare and that you went home for lunch. He loved to see how good you were with kids. He knew you’d make a great mother someday. There was one roadblock he noted when he followed you home at night. He knew you were dating someone who couldn’t fuck an orgasm out of you, but Bucky knew he could. He'd seen how you got yourself off after your date left. He could watch you for hours, and he did. He knew you were perfect for him, so kind and giving. Your boyfriend didn’t appreciate you, not like Bucky would. So he started leaving gifts outside your door. It started with flowers, then he overheard you say you needed a new coat, after that you needed new sneakers. It was easy to pick the lock to get your shoe size. He noticed you wore the jacket when it started getting colder. He started to think you would warm up to him since you liked his gifts enough to use them. 

He was early tonight, waiting outside your house to make sure you got home from work safely. He left your favorite flowers today, it was the day he was going to introduce himself. Then he saw something that made his heart sink into his stomach. Your boyfriend, picking up the flowers and waiting for you. Bucky started to move from his spot across the street when he saw you round the corner and froze in place. He watched as you approached your boyfriend smiling as he handed you the flowers. The flowers that Bucky got for you. That’s when Bucky realized you thought his gifts were from your boyfriend. He realized he would have to fix that problem sooner than he had anticipated.

He spent the next week following your boyfriend instead of leaving you gifts. It killed him to not get you presents but he had to show you that your boyfriend wasn’t thinking of you. At the end of the week, he was going out of town for some bachelor weekend. It was the perfect opportunity for Bucky to show you that he cared about you. He was nothing like your boyfriend.

Bucky waited until you were inside after work, allowing you a moment to settle down after the day’s events. He had picked up your favorite takeout and was going to have dinner with you, he could hardly contain his excitement. Bucky walked across the street into your apartment building, a first-floor apartment was a bad idea. Any crazy person could break in if they wanted to, but Bucky would keep you safe. He knocked on your door, heart fluttering in anticipation. 

You opened the door keeping the chain in place, smart girl.

“Can I help you?” You seemed confused.

“My name is Bucky. I’ve noticed you around and I thought we could talk, get to know each other.” 

Bucky showed you the take-out bag hoping to entice you to open the door.

“I’m sorry I don’t know you and I have a boyfriend.” You started to close the door and Bucky felt his anger flare.

He put his metal arm out to stop the door from shutting.

“He doesn’t love you. Not like I do.” 

Bucky pushed open the door, snapping the metal chain easily. He watched you stumble backward towards your couch. As Bucky pushed his way inside he placed the bag on the floor and stalked over to you. You were backing up with a look of fear in your eyes.

“Don’t be scared doll, I just wanted to talk. Your boyfriend was taking credit for my gifts. He doesn’t care about you, doesn’t listen to you. I do though, I know everything about you,” Bucky promised, bending down to touch your face. When you flinched Bucky grew impatient.

“I see how needy he leaves you. Can’t even get you off. I watch you wait until he’s fucked himself unconscious only to need to finish what he started. You need a man who can worship you, and that’s all I’m trying to do doll.” 

You moved to run past him but Bucky caught you by the ankle, sending you crashing to the ground.

“I just want to show you what you could have. I would take care of you.” Bucky pulled you towards his body, caging you in. “I wanted to take this slow, but it looks like I’m going to have to show you how I feel.”

Bucky pulled the backpack off and unzipped it, letting several notebooks fall to the floor. All containing details of you, what you liked to eat, where you liked to go after work, where you touched yourself, and how long each orgasm took. You turned your head and saw each page with dates and times, each book looked to be in chronological order. Bucky could see the sweat on your hairline and bent down to kiss your forehead.

“See? I notice you. I see you. I make sure I write it all down so I don’t forget,” 

Bucky explained as he pushed the notebooks away and grabbed your arms. “I will be better for you. I’m stronger,I can protect you, keep you safe.”

Bucky saw the way your eyes darted around as if looking for a way out. Only they would never find one. Now that he had you, he had no intention of letting you go.

[keijiluvr]

JUST SOME BOY

Pairings: Atsumu x Reader

Warnings: Implication of cheating, angst

NOTE: this is my first time writing about hq boys so i’m sorry if it might be ooc :( also pls be nice about this, i know it sucks but anyway here you go!

Part 2

Being in a relationship with Atsumu for more than a year now really has been wonderful for you. You felt happy, comfortable and content with him. You make each other happy as giggles and laughter would leave your lips, pulling the other’s body closer to them. Affection wasn’t really an issue as kissing has been normal for the both of you. Subtle hand holding and nuzzling against the other’s neck has been a routine most of the time, eager to just feel the touch of the other. Mornings filled with soft smiles, brushing the other’s hair and leave kisses all over their face.  

Both of you know each other like the back of your hands, being able to know if something’s troubling the other and be able to talk about it and work things out. You were able to support him throughout his struggles especially with volleyball and he’s always there to listen whenever something’s bothering you. It was safe to say that you can imagine yourself staying in this so called fairytale for a very long time. 

But it didn’t last that long. 

It started two weeks ago. That gut feeling that something’s wrong, screaming and begging at you to listen. No matter what you do, it wouldn’t disappear as it clawed its way up to your mind, disturbing your thoughts as it pushed it to the back of your mind and let itself stay inside your head for a while. It’s been bothering you for days. You thought it was just you being paranoid or a common feeling of nervousness but why would you feel like that? 

“Tsum?” 

“Sorry, Coach told me to stay behind to practice more on.” 

You brushed it off, it didn’t really matter to you as long as he got home safely and that he’s okay. This would happen sometimes and you’re always waiting for him in the apartment, ready to reassure and relieve some stress with him. You’ve been his anchor, always keeping everything grounded and steady and he liked it. How come things started changing? 

However, the constant late night practices started happening frequently as excuses kept on piling up. 

“We have an important match coming up. I really have to practice.” 

“Bokuto-san wanted to practice more on his spikes, he needed me.” 

“The team stayed a bit longer to practice some more.” 

That’s when that gut feeling kept nagging at you, resulting in countless negative thoughts running around your mind while you stay in your shared bedroom, alone and awake as the night settled in. Did something go wrong? Did you do something? But then you would feel foolish for having that kind of thoughts. You would reassure yourself, repeating a mantra in your head that everything’s fine, he just needs time to practice. 

It was like a constant play of a broken record inside your head, not letting the fear eat you whole. It was scary, frightening even but you should trust him, you do trust him. 

So you lived as if you have nothing to worry about, understanding that he has to prioritize his career first and that everything will go back to normal soon. He’d start coming home early after the match, you’d feel his skin on yours, the apartment would be filled with laughter and new memories. You hoped it would be like that soon. 

It felt weird, today feels weird for you. It wasn’t that good kind of weird, it was the opposite. Your hands felt clammy, your heartbeat setting an uneven pace and this gut feeling, the familiar gut feeling but much more intense than before. It felt as if something bad is supposed to happen today, as if your body is sending alarming bells to you, trying to warn you about the possible future events that may occur today, that you need to prepare yourself for something. 

But what could it be? 

Going back to reading the text messages you sent to your boyfriend, you felt anxious. Why would he leave you on read? Did something bad happen during their practice today? That might not be the case since someone from the team would’ve called you right away if something happened. You felt silly, crazy even due to how paranoid you are. Who could blame you though? It’s been hours and he hasn’t even thought of replying to your texts. 

You’ve thought about so many possible scenarios, even reaching the point of something happening to the gym. Hell, enough scenarios just to put your mind on edge that causes your legs to shake due to nervousness.  

Reaching for your phone quickly, you inserted the passcode as soon as you heard the familiar ding coming from your phone. 

You bit your lower lip, forcing yourself not to let out a sigh, to show your disappointment. What did you expect though? No matter how hard you try, nothing will change. He prioritizes volleyball over anything. If it’s practice, it’s practice. You should know that by now as you were always there for him, supporting him and cheering him on as he does the thing that he loves. But why can’t you ignore this gut feeling? That same gut feeling that’s been desperate to grab your attention, to make you listen that something is obviously wrong. 

Maybe it’s telling you that an accident might happen so without giving it a second thought, you decided to text the person who you’ve been friends with for a while just to check up on Atsumu.

You were in a state of shock, completely still as you read the message over and over again. Your grip on your phone tightening its hold as your chest felt heavy. Blinking, you haven’t even noticed the tears as they fell, landing on the sheets below you. Your mind whirling with endless amounts of negative scenarios, a bunch of what ifs making your heart ache more. 

But this isn’t the time to mope around and drown in negative scenarios. You need answers, you need to hear the truth and you know the person that can answer every question that you have. 

Atsumu realized that he came home late once again, letting out a sigh as he shut the front door behind him, trying to be quiet as possible too since he noticed how the lights are turned off indicating that you might have fallen asleep. Biting his lower lip, he was on his way to the kitchen to grab something to eat when he noticed someone sitting on the couch. 

“Y/N? You almost gave me a heart attack.” He let out a chuckle, sauntering over to you but felt himself stiffen. 

There you were, hugging your knees close to your chest. Teary-eyed, you looked up at him, “Where were you, Atsumu?” 

“What? I was at practice like everyday.” 

“Don’t lie to me, please.” The way you begged, desperate to know the truth even if it will hurt, even if it will break you. It would be better to know the truth rather than pretending to be living in a healthy and stable relationship with someone you once knew. 

As he stood there, you couldn’t even recognize him anymore. Nothing changed with his physical appearance but it felt like you were talking to a stranger, to someone you barely even know anymore. Your chest tightening as your eyes welling with tears. “Please.” You sobbed 

Holding out his hand, he tried to wipe your tears away. However, you turned your head to the side, not wanting to feel his touch, knowing you’d crumble more in his grasp. Instead, the hand was left hanging in the air as you avoided his gaze, wiping your own tears. Defeated, he sat beside you, watching you carefully. “Did someone tell you?” His voice small. 

You let out a humorless chuckle, wiping your fingers to your shirt as you faced him. “Someone told me some things. You weren’t staying at the gym to practice more, Atsumu. He told me how you would always be the first one to leave practice, always in a hurry yet you always come home late.” You whispered the last few words, voice cracking before clearing your throat. 

Pathetic, you felt pathetic. As the warning bells continued to ring inside your head, you couldn’t help but cling onto one positive thought that maybe, maybe he’s working on something for days and wouldn’t tell anyone. That maybe he was just busy and didn’t think of telling anyone. 

But why would he lie to you? Why would he pretend to be at practice? 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I was planning on telling you but I guess I’ve been a coward for avoiding it. I met someone, Y/N. She makes me happy. I’m sorry you had to find out like this.” 

That part of you that has been trying to give you hope started diminishing at his response. That small part of you that was believing and trusting him, the one that you held onto so so so tightly disappeared, leaving you falling into the void.  The fact that all of the effort and progress that you’ve been trying to do lately came crashing down onto you, pushing you further into the darkness. 

It triggered you. His words triggered something beneath you. I was planning on telling you. I’m sorry you had to find out like this. 

Is he being serious? You felt as if he wasn’t being sincere for his actions, for what he did to you. It felt like it had no effect on him that you found out. If you didn’t find out today, would he still keep on doing it? But what pierced through your heart, what kept repeating in your head was those words. She makes me happy.

Did you fail? Were you not enough? Did you not make him happy? 

It felt as if your body moved on its own, standing up abruptly and slapped him across his face. For once, you didn’t regret your actions. He deserved it. Looking down at him, you tried so hard to memorize his face. Before he could utter another word, you were out of his sight. 

You clenched your fist, feeling your palm burning as it serves as a reminder that you hit him before running to your room to pack your things.

“It looks like they’re coming back.” 

Turning around, you eyed the stadium with a soft, little smile. The banner with his team on it proudly shown as people gather to view the details of the upcoming match. Your gaze landed on his picture, content as you saw how happy he looked especially with his teammates. 

That night, it was the last time you saw him. It’s been almost a year now and admittedly, it’s been tough to get back on your feet but you’re almost there. Your heart might still long for him, it might still ache since there are days that the pain becomes unbearable but you’re thankful for the people around you that have been patient enough to guide you back to your feet. 

“Who’s that? It looks like you know him.” Your friend asked, pointing at the guy you’ve been staring at.

“Don’t worry about it, he’s just some boy.” 

It might be a long process, the healing but you’re willing to undergo through the long process until you can finally move on from everything without feeling the pain, the ache and the misery. For now, you’re just happy for him for achieving his dreams. 

[twisted-imagines]

May I request some relationship headcanons (sfw & nsfw) for our Heartslabyul boys?♠♥♣♦

*Slaps the roof of the fic* this bad boy can fit so many words! Almost 17k words. It took much longer to produce than any other of my works, even the savanaclaw hcs you guys loved so much. In my defense, this is almost three times as big and more detailed. I would be grateful if you told me whether it's harder to read or not, now that each point got longer (What a silly writer, asking the readers if they want less content).

Also, I'm not saying I have written a good chunk of confession hcs for each of them before I edited them out, but I kind of did. You might want to keep it in mind when my requests open 😏

Anyway, please enjoy and leave feedback💓 don't let it flop

Heartslabyul relationships headcanons(SFW/NSFW )

Riddle Rosehearts 🌹

SFW

• The Crimson Ruler of your heart. While Rosehearts household did as much harm as good to Riddle, it didn't fail to bring up a perfect gentleman. It's very soon that you find out just how charming he can be, while on the quest to court you.

• The thought doesn't visit his head right away, the possibility of him falling in love with you. Riddle knows he likes your company, happy that at least somebody can see things the way he does, while also providing him with valuable input from the other perspective. And he wants to listen to your thoughts, to know more about you. Perhaps that is the reason he invites you to have a tea with him progressively often, or requests you to lend him a hand at caring for his hedgehogs from time to time? And when your own friends, his fellow dorm members, start to see less of you than Riddle does, it's because he just provides for a better company, correct?

• But then, why is it so hard to take away his hand when it accidentally touches yours? Why does he want to hold it so bad? Why his chest won't stop hurting, when he thinks of you, how you would fit in his arms, how your lips would taste against his?...

• It takes quite a long time for him to confess to you, but when he does, it's the most romantic proclamation of love you've ever heard, he's like a prince straight out of fairytales you read in your childhood. Maybe no prince blushes or fidgets like him, but it's obvious Riddle is very sincere and is determined to convey how he really feels about you. It almost sounds like a marriage proposal, with the solemn vows to make you happy, he's very serious about the whole ordeal.

• His manners are always on spot, he treats you with respect his "subjects", Heartslabyul students, see only once in a lifetime. Except for you, only Trey can boast about having special treatment, but even he is not quite on your level; you dare to say you are being pampered by Riddle. Maybe, just maybe, with you he can be more lenient in implementing his rules, and not all mistakes you make have to lead to punishments, especially if "cutting your head off" doesn't really do anything to you.

• But sometimes even you are not safe from his outbursts, though he tries to avoid it as much as possible. He can't let any student, his dorm or not, tamper with rules or slack off for as long as he's the prefect and an honorable student at this college, but at times his temper still gets better of him resulting in Riddle resorting to his old habits.

He actually makes an effort to become a better person, improves himself daily, and wants you to see the results of his work and be proud of your significant other. Any ungraceful scene he causes makes him regret his behavior in the end, and if embarrassment doesn't eat away at him too much, Riddle will search for your encouragement and affirmation that you didn't change your opinion of him and don't think less of him.

If he thinks he overstepped the line he won't show up to face you for some time, as if he placed some rules on himself to not seek your warmth out. It would have been nice to hear an apology from him, alas Riddle is, unfortunately, the type of person who doesn't apologize, simply can't do it. But the punishment he inflicted on himself already seems like a proof of him admitting he was wrong, so maybe just let him off the hook? Dwelling on it won't really bring you two much happiness. You being able to let offenses go is very crucial in your relationships with Riddle.

• Especially, since he's the least likely to do it himself. If it's you who starts an argument, don't expect it to end peacefully. He can't be wrong, no chances of that, he's not going to accept it. You'll have to leave because of how frustrating it is, trying to prove something to him and seeing him already turning red and ignoring you. It's until later, in a quiet of his study, long after you left, that Riddle can think about what you've said. Even if you were wrong, just like he anticipated, Riddle will still come up with some idea or solution, so that you two won't argue further. He's waiting for you to come and apologize to him.

Wait, no, not quite. But rather for you to first find him, beg for an audience with him in his free time and then say your heartfelt apology, with a delicious strawberry tart you brought in hands. He's as petty as that. At least he shares the pastry with you, while he tries to discuss the reason for your quarrel and finally put it to an end.

• Riddle has a strong will to make your relationships work, he cares for you more than he can potentially show. He's subtle, always telling you to dress according to weather, take an umbrella with you, taking you out for lunch and dinner himself, just so you wouldn't forget to eat. It's also very often that Riddle asks you to avoid commotions and not meddle with dangerous business of other dorms. He appreciates your kindness, it rescued him too, but every time something happens in this college you always happen to be in the middle, and it makes him extremely worried. And it would have been better if you came to one of the most talented students in NRC when you needed help. If you told Riddle about your problems.

• Even if it's something little, he wants to know about it. Yes, he knows you are your own, independent person, but it wouldn't hurt to speak to him, especially if it's something he can help with, right? And still, he tries to shoulder more than he should, suddenly prying into your life more frequently, and you can't help but notice the change and eventually point it out. But how else is he supposed to play the role of a responsible, caring boyfriend?! He's confused, he's not used to those feelings. Family. Friends. He has never connected to somebody on such level or felt a romantic attraction to anybody. Do wipe his frustrated tears and tell him, that this kind of controlling behavior is not what you need and there are a lot of other ways to he can show his love for you. And since you're his partner, you should be correct too, especially when it comes to your own life, right?

• It's hard to catch and steal Riddle for yourself during working days, the man has a lot of responsibilities in the college, as a student, as a dorm leader, as a club manager, and so on. But if you remind him that he also has responsibilities as your boyfriends, Riddle will have a hard time declining. As soon as he takes care of all urgent business, you'll become his priority. Too many rules, too many restrictions for him to pay you the attention you deserve, Riddle thinks surprisingly often. How shocking it is to him, when some of them conveniently slip his mind, just when you're about to go on a date. How very generous of him to not hold anyone accountable for violating said rules, when he comes back to the dorm in high spirit and a small smile playing on his lips.

• Riddle's favorite ways to spend his past time with you is to, of course, invite you to have dinner with him, tarts and tea are a must as well as any of your own preferred snacks or drinks since the meaning of all of this is for you both to enjoy yourselves. The time when he mindgames himself is when he welcomes you to the practice of Horseback Riding Club under the pretense that you would be learning too. But see, he has come up with a special regimen for you when you have to sit directly in front or behind him, while either of you has a strong grip on other's waist. Or maybe you two can ride separately, while your horses stride in a peaceful manner. No broken rules in sight, you two just train together, how can somebody say that the infamous Heartslabyul dorm leader is having a date during his club meeting? So maybe listen to your senior, Sebek, stop talking, or rather screaming, back, because your actions violate rules more than Riddle's do.

• He's weak to any show of physical affection, every time you do something mildly romantic he becomes red all over. An amusing sight, truly. Riddle chastises you and tells you to behave yourself, but at first, he has to become less adorable when doing it for you to truly listen to him. If you still continue your onslaught, he surprisingly will not take any action to stop you. He can't bring himself to. He feels so warm and fuzzy, every kiss and hug grounds the reality of just how loved he is and Riddle can't get enough of it.

• Do mind, that he's very strict about PDA. Sorry, rabbit, but no stranger will see more then you two holding hands while in public. That's a rule and you already know how strict he is about them. He has to remain composed while going on with his day and there's also quite a reputation Heartslabyul dorm leader has to uphold. Riddle can't let anybody see him being all mushy and lovey-dovey with his s/o, you shouldn't even think about tempting him for he will get angry.

• Not much into spooning, but Riddle is not against hugging in general. He prefers to lay side by side after the working day, play with your fingers and chat about what kind of surprises Night Raven College has cooked up for you today, or some interests either you or he picked up recently. It doesn't matter, really, it can be some meaningless chat and he will still be satisfied, as long as it's you. If the atmosphere is more romantic, in that case, he might beckon you closer for you to rest on his chest, while he lovingly caresses your head.

• Kissing is a whole new level for Riddle and it takes some time before he's ready to transit to this stage of your relationship. Chances are, you will be the one patiently anticipating until he's ready, but the wait is worthwhile. He's both planned it and did not. You are having a great time in his dorm long after the classes and tasks of dorm leader end, enjoying each other's company while sharing your favorite desserts. Although Riddle knows he has to abide by the curfew just like any other student, it physically pains him to let you go out of his embrace. It's just the two of you, and you can see the longing in his eyes until his face is impossibly close, his lips on yours. It's sweet, with a note of sourness, just like the strawberry tart he's eaten prior. It feels like a dream to Riddle, but as soon as the magic of the moment is gone, he's blushing like crazy. The process of escorting you out of his dorm, unfortunately, has sped up quite a lot, as Riddle could no longer look straight into your eyes anymore, but at least you got to share that experience with him.

From now on kisses become more regular, but Riddle always tries to reserve them for special moments, interrupting Rosehearts while he tries to give you one may result in potential beheading.

• There's always some kind of challenge that life gives you, but hard work always pays off, Riddle knows it the best. He's willing to fight for you and for your relationships, you're already his most trusted confidant. You take up an important role in his life, he wasn't sure existed, but the one he definitely needed.

NSFW

• If the first kiss is an event on its own, then what can be said about the first sex? You're frustrated, Riddle is even more frustrated, and not only sexually. But it's his rules that you play by. Riddle sets up a romantic dinner and when he finally leads you to his bed late into the evening you can barely contain your excitement. He's painfully inexperienced, but he was diligent about doing his research so at least he has the basics in his mind. If only using it all in practice was as easy. His face is flaming hot and the sight of your naked, inviting body messes up his thoughts. The experience is sweet and intimate, Riddle pours out his heart to you, it's one of the most vulnerable experiences he's had with you. The physical part will get better over time.

• The more often you become intimate, the more interesting facts you uncover about your boyfriend. Soon enough you'll come to an understanding that your dear lover is of quite a special kind and there were instances you had to adapt to, or rather submit to him.

• Riddle naturally takes up a dominant role in bed, he loves to order you around and make you obey him. You're his lovely rabbit, pretty dove, docile lamb, and get showered with plenty of praise and rewards as long as you serve him obediently. He knows best how to take care of you, so your job is just to listen to his orders and abide by his rules. But you can do this, right, cutie? As long as you do, you'll have the sweetest, most caring and attentive version of Riddle tending to you. Sex and intimacy are not something he takes lightly so he'll try his hardest to make each time unforgettable, the best possible experience for you, especially when a chance to have you just for himself doesn't come often to Riddle.

• He's pretty fair, always repaying you for the pleasure your lovely mouth gives him. It's a treatment not even punishments can take away from you, although if it's the case, you will need to wait until you're forgiven before Riddle descends to give lots of loving to your lower part.

At first, he's not successful at making you orgasm with his mouth only, but he's anything but not determined. He listens to any advice you may give him about your own body and saves this information for later use, each oral better than the last. It will get to the point he won't need even a finger to have you unravel before him. As expected, he's the best, the most talented. He couldn't just let you get ahead of him, could he?

• Which was quite easy, to begin with, considering that at first, you were the one who made him cum just by using your mouth. The moment you take him, he's already panting heavily. One sweep of your tongue and he arches into you, unable to withstand such pleasure. One bob of your head and he's painting the insides of your mouth white. He can't build his resistance up, for the life of his, even when he's hell-bent on not letting you take him over the edge. It's the weakness worth exploiting though, for Riddle will always strive to make it even, of course, by reducing you to the same breathless, blushing state that he's in.

• Not the one whose cock will rearrange your insides or make you choke on it, no matter if he's gentle or not. There's a perfect balance even in his pants. Just perfect. Maybe it's one of the prettiest dicks that a man can possess. Average in size, with the ideal angle and brightest red tip when your boyfriend gets all eager. At times you're not sure if you want to keep marveling at him or appreciate him fully, gliding every ridge and vein with your tongue. Riddle always prefers the latter, guiding you straight to him by your head.

tw: sex toys, punishments • Riddle gives off the impression that he will "behead" you straight away if you dare to do something scandalous in public. And it's right. That breaches any and all rules, even his moral principles, completely unacceptable. He won't ever show that he's aroused if there are other people around. That one time you wore a skimpier outfit and flaunted all day in his dorm went especially bad. The seduction failed miserably, not even once did Riddle look at you. Well, you thought he didn't.

"What was it today? I deduced, a new way to earn yourself a punishment, was it not, my sweet? Well, since you crave it so much you shall receive your "special treatment"."

The collar he has for you is vastly different from the one he gives to other students, so prepare to have it chocking your throat while a very angry and frustrated Riddle has his way with you. He didn't yell or behead anybody once that day, he saved all his pent up anger just for you and he expects you take it all.

tw: bdsm-punishments • For all and any disobedience you show, expect to receive a proper punishment. The idea of punishment itself is very appealing to him. The dynamic, the scene, the choice of words, all of this has the blood rushing to his abdomen. While he loves to give and receive gentle touches, whisper praises into your ear and have you arch for his soft, caring touches, he also wants to hear you cry and moan out loud, see the way you shut your eyes tightly and brace yourself before each of his movement, have you beg for forgiveness, ready to do anything just so he would give you permission to cum. Sometimes, even mistakes that would usually go unnoticed by Riddle, since it is you, or at most required a lengthy lecture for you to endure, will lead to you being pushed onto his bed; a malicious, but oh so pleased expression on his face.

But when he says times and times again, that you can't tease him in public, finish yourself off when he explicitly tells you not to, or make him jealous by batting your eyes at other students and you still do it, that's when the real deal starts. He knows what you're doing that for. You're going to get it and you better be grateful, when you lay later on his bed crying from either overstimulation or broken orgasm, your exhausted body littered with marks from the riding crop he's bought especially for you, to discipline you like a naughty animal that you are. He expects you to learn your lesson and never break the rules he's set, for he has much worse in his stock.

• But if you want to reverse the roles, well... There's a surprise waiting for you - making a submissive Riddle come out is not that hard actually. For sure, he would want to retain the control he has over you, but you cupping his face, placing gentle kisses to his red cheeks while reassuring him that he deserved to just relax and accept your love, makes his knees week. But wait, stern look and a painful grip on his hair work well too, since bad boys need to be punished, and he's been a pretty annoying, arrogant one today.

Point him to his place, now he can address you only with the name you choose, speak only when he's asked to, and cum only when allowed to. And he tries to hold off so hard because he's a good boy, because rules need to be followed, but those cute mewls still spill from his mouth, his thighs tremble before the impending orgasm. Regardless of how well he did, when your session is over, cradle his head to your chest and let him know how much you love and cherish him, and how no matter what he'll always be the best in your eyes, that you're not disappointed with him in any way. He won't stop thanking and saying that he loves you until he's too exhausted to even keep his eyes open. Not burdened by heavy thoughts, expectations, and responsibilities everyone has for him Riddle looks so peaceful, you think to yourself, when he finally drifts off to the sleep, cuddled in your arms.

Deuce Spade ♠

SFW

• If he had just a few more brain cells at his disposal, Deuce would definitely join the "husband material" squad, but his last one died when he tried to confess to you, what a pity. He's adorable and loving boyfriend nonetheless, and treasures you like an apple of an eye. He may be clumsy sometimes, but you can always rely on him, the boy will try his hardest for you.

• Your love story is the embodiment of "friends-to-lovers slow burn" cliche, sponsored mostly by Deuce's own obliviousness. It may actually be looked upon as the story of you crawling your way out of this boy's friendzone, because, that's what you're to him at first. He's so happy he made some real friends, he's going to tell his mother as soon as possible! He doesn't even notice how special you, of all people, are to him. When Deuce tells his family stories about college, they mostly end with him praising or telling something funny about you. Mrs. Spade can only shake her head and snicker at how much information she already knows about her son's future significant other.

All the "inside" jokes in your circle of friends actually belong just to you two. You're the first who gets to see a funny meme he found, an interesting story he heard, know about some problems or hardships that he's going through. Yes, you're definitely his best friend! It's only natural that he feels possessive of you, no? And that he gets grossed out by the idea that you may date somebody else, and then those hugs and happy moments that you two share may stop suddenly, is called for, right?...

• Ace sees all those fleeting touches and puppy looks that Deuce sends your way when it seems like you don't notice. Actually, if he squinted hard enough he would be able to see a tail wagging behind Deuce every time you join them in the morning, or so Trappola thinks. He enjoys seeing you be so dejected by your "friend" status and frequently mocks you for it, but he wants you two to stop being stupid and "gross" and actually becomes the much-needed catalyst for your and Deuce's relationships. Just don't thank him, he won't let you live it down.

• Surprisingly, not much changes, after you start dating, at least not on the surface level. You still hang out with all your friends, go to classes together, get involved in some mess together just like always. But actually, Deuce feels happier, more at ease. He's got a significant other! And you're just perfect, the most loving and kindest. He finally gets to do all this romantic, "couple" stuff he's seen in films or read in books. He's excited to try it all with you, albeit when it's just the two of you. Things that can't include Ace and Grimm should be done without them.

• PDA doesn't go well for the boy, he gets all blushy and nervous, unable to even tell you to stop, because he's just blabbering and stuttering some nonsense. Could you have even predicted that a small kiss on the cheek would make him so flustered? It's a perfect opportunity to tease him if you're ready to treat him to a meal in the cafeteria as an apology later. Hand-holding is a must though, everybody should know that you're with him now, that he's your boyfriend, not any of them.

• He's going to puff out his chest so much, he's so proud to have a partner, someone as incredible as you. You're basically a deity in his eyes, no one can slander you, much less lay a hand on you. Anyone who's stupid enough will make acquaintances with ex-bully Deuce's fists. He can't bring himself to be apologetic after he snaps out, everything he does for you is automatically justified in his mind.

• Protective Deuce is always on duty, ready to defend you. Ask him to tone it down slightly however, if you get uncomfortable, he can get annoying pretty fast. You've somehow dealt with your problems before, he's not bringing much to the table, except for new reasons for a headache. When you tell him this he's going to be startled, he has only best for you in his mind! Reluctantly, he'll comply, but let him have at least some of his "boyfriend duties" - this boy craves validation that he's doing well, just like everybody else does. Deuce wants you to be proud of him, think that he's reliable and dependable. He's eager to help you more than ever.

• As much as he's shy to receive them, Deuce loves kisses! He's not a great kisser, you've bumped your teeth more times than you can count and practicing helps very little, so more often then not he resorts to close-mouthed ones. His cheek kisses are also so...wholesome? It's like a big dose of love is injected into you. When techniques don't do the job, Deuce's goal is to just make you feel loved. He hopes the sentiment is not lost on you, while he promises to get better at kissing.

• When he's especially stressed or tired he treats you like his recharge station. The first opportunity he gets to tackle you, be there some comfortable, flat surface under you, he's going to take it. Deuce doesn't mind to either curl up to your chest, while you softly pat his hair, or envelop you in his arms, just hide you away from the word so he can enjoy your presence. It does stroke his ego when you ask him to spoon you. Look, mama, your son is so reliable and caring! You notice that Deuce often tries to find a way for you not to see his face, "for what reason" is a reasonable question. Probably because this boy has the mushiest, happiest grin on his face and he's not about to show it to you so blatantly. He blushes so hard when you try to see his face, he's so easy to tease, huh.

"It's all your fault, [Y/n]! You're too cute!"

His poor heart can barely take it.

• Deuce is so shocked when you seem mildly irritated at him or bring up some issues you want to discuss. You see it on his face, that he genuinely doesn't know where it came up from, but sometimes you ask yourself whether he's that oblivious or unconsciously tries to dissuade the situation by acting dumb? But whatever it's about, Deuce wants to solve it as peacefully as possible. He avoids any confrontations with you, going as far as just straight-up agreeing to anything just so you would calm down. You doubt he fears you or your wrath, but you didn't think that he held you with such high regard as not to oppose you at all. At least any argument ends before it can possibly start, both of you finding the compromise and moving on.

• It all goes down when he's the one holding grunge though. You won't hear a peep from him, Deuce bottles everything up and gives you the worst cold-shoulder treatment possible, he's downright mean. The change couldn't be more prominent, a whole 180° from loving boyfriend to a snarky stranger you have never met before. You can't pry anything out of him, he refuses to tell and when you can't take it anymore, just wanting your boyfriend back, and either lash out or pressure him harder, he'll snap. It could have been something minor on your end, but because Deuce couldn't bring it up right away and started to overthink, the original reason for his distress blew up to unimaginable proportions. Angry Deuce is intimidating, he's conscious enough not to near you, but it still hurts.

When he eventually comes to his senses he's going to regret his behavior and apologize to you, he didn't have any excuse to treat you so horribly. Deuce didn't want to start an argument in the first place, that's why he kept silent, but soon enough his emotions got better of him. He promises to talk to you if something bothers him or if he feels that your relationships are not working perfectly. Maybe you'll agree for him to treat you to dinner? A nice evening to take your mind off of your quarrel. Those puppy eyes hope you won't say no, but Deuce will respect any way you wish for him to redeem himself.

• As soon as there's a free time in both of your schedules you're going for a date, no questions asked. Deuce is always happy to go out with you, even daydreaming about possible dates that you can have makes him giddy. He's going to research the best spots for a romantic getaway across the whole Twisted Wonderland and if the magic mirror can bring you there, you're definitely going. He hasn't been to most of those places himself, but he's more interested in looking at your reaction, since you didn't know they even existed, coming from an entirely different world.

• College is stressful, trying to be an honor student is even more stressful, especially when he's quite bad at being well-behaved and concentrated all the time too. But, well, those thugs were the ones who started the fight so he's not responsible for it! And he's just so tired right now, he can't cram another spell into his head or otherwise, it's going to explode. When he's at his limits, both physical and moral, he desperately needs your support. Hugs, kisses, praises, a cup of tea and cookies made by you, anything goes to show him that you care and he doesn't have to suffer alone. Your relationships give him strength and boost his confidence quite a lot. You're precious to him and he wants to treasure you for as long as possible. Who knows, maybe those wild dreams of him waiting for you at the altar will eventually come true?

NSFW

• Obviously a virgin, not to mention a clueless one too. Even if he's seen some porn or read articles, he's not prepared to become intimate whatsoever. He has been given "the talk" by his mother, he doesn't think anything of it can help him right now, but bits of it play in his mind. His brain is gone with your clothes, Deuce can only stare at your naked body, blushing profusely, which is kind of unnerving. With a little prompting or if you decide to just take the reigns in your hands, your first time can turn out nice, but there's always room for improvement. Do expect a nervous wreck Deuce once again when you finish, because he can't believe he has had sex with you, it's a really emotional moment for him.

• Deuce is pretty vanilla, there are not many kinks that he has, most of them are centered around you anyway, for example seeing you clad in stockings, cute lingerie, or maybe even a maid costume. You on top of him or Deuce being the one on the receiving side of whatever activity you may bring up also gets him going. He's always motivated to make you feel good, show how much he loves you, and is ready to serve you.

•♀️Maybe this boy does have some kinks after all because having you dominating him makes him feel some type of way. You're his dear girlfriend, his Lady, his Mistress, how can he ignore your wishes and commands, it's would be unacceptable, a disgrace to honor pet like Deuce. He'll do anything you want without a fault for just a few praises or your foot stepping on his manhood. He's ready to worship the ground you walk upon, but better bring this eager mouth to your mounds to suck on. He'll let out sweet moans, praising and complimenting you, he's grateful he can just be your baby boy, alone with you, partaking in any pleasure you share with him.

• That one guy who practically has a bright red announcement on his forehead that "he has had a nice fuck last night!". He's unusually pumped up and energized, while also tailing after you like a puppy. To some, more experienced students, it's obvious what you guys have been up to, Ace is especially mean, teasing the hell out of Deuce, but at least Deuce is getting some. Oh, no, guys you're not children, stop fighting~

• Deuce expected for a blowjob to be pleasurable, but in truth, he cannot compare anything to it, it's an entirely different experience altogether. The image of you on your knees, a lewd expression on your face, while you look straight into his eyes with your mouth around his dick, indeed it will stay with him for the longest time, haunting him in his wet dreams. Until you go and blow him once again. He will do anything for a blowjob, both to receive it and after you give it to him, to show how grateful he is.

• He has a slight bias to receiving oral, rather than giving, but purely because he's not very confident in his own skills. He always has a hard time navigating, forgetting your preferences and what usually brings you to your high. His own tempo is pretty slow, movements gentle but persistent, he likes to worship and pay you compliments along the way. Small moans sometimes penetrate his speech; it's his everything, seeing you be satisfied by him. He won't complain if you grab him by his hair and just do with him whatever you seem fit and for as long as you need. Just don't forget he has to breathe, for this dork will try to assure you that he doesn't have to, just so you wouldn't stop.

• Deuce has worked for his reputation, just so he wouldn't be seen as a delinquent anymore, worried about his grades every year to near the "honor student" title, and now you want to place it all on stakes by sneaking your hands down his trousers, saying that nobody will notice anyway? And he can't even tell you to stop, because he knows he will moan as soon as he opens his mouth. "[Y/n], you're a bully now!", Deuce thinks dejected when your hands bring him to one of his fastest orgasms. He doesn't speak with you for the rest of the day, silently hides his red face in your shoulder when somebody tries to ask him about his well-being. No, no, Deuce is perfectly fine, and if he gets sick his kind significant other will bring him to his dorm room at once! Of course, to just worsen his state with those hands and mouth~

Ace Trappola ♥

SFW

• A trickster, there's never a boring moment with Ace. He's not for a fragile heart, you encounter his teasing and not so pleasing remarks now even more often, since you two spend more time with each other as a couple. You're his partner in crime, always there for him when he needs your support, even if he often acts like you're the one who needs him the most.

• When did you even start dating? Was it when he invited you to Monstro Lounge to celebrate your success in the most recent test, and when all other guys "didn't quite make it" and didn't join you? Or maybe when you've spent the entire night in his room, playing card games or reading popular comics and suffering on the morning lessons again together, because you didn't get any sleep? For the longest time, neither of you even thinks of putting a label on your relationships. You hang out with all your friends just as fine as just you two do together. It's light-hearted and fun until it isn't and Ace notices. He has to restrain himself and not touch you in a way a friend wouldn't, not say pick-up lines and things that can be easily misunderstood since you're just friends and it's slowly getting on his nerves. He doesn't think of you as a friend anymore, he doesn't! What to do is unclear to Ace, he becomes snappier and meaner, ruining the day for everyone around him, because he can't figure out what to do with his emotions.

It can go a longer way, with his other friends confronting him, both because they are tired of dealing with his mood swings and worried about Ace. Or you can approach him yourself and solve this problem tête-à-tête, which of course would lead to faster results, much to Ace's surprise, with you ending up legitimately, undoubtedly dating him. He hoped, he hoped so much for such an outcome, but did he really think it would happen? He's talking your ears off with how predictable you are, that it was obvious you were in love with him, but deep down he's thanking whatever or whoever made it possible for him to date you.

• This boy doesn't handle jealousy well. When you're the one being jealous he just shrugs it off, teasing you for being such a worrywart or acting mockingly hurt, that you don't trust him since he's loyal to you only, but when he's not suddenly a center of your attention or somebody else allows themselves to touch and flirt with his significant other, he's livid, not a ghost of a smile on his lips. He's going to just barge in on your conversation with the other person, nearly creating a whole scene, before he whisks you away. Who could have thought that the Ace Trappola could be self-conscious and insecure? Tell him firmly that you've never given him a reason to doubt you, that it can't be more apparent that you love only him. He'll feel ashamed, uttering the quietest "sorry" and demanding affection from you in the same breath. Of course, he knows he's your only one, there are no chances it would be the opposite, just look at him! He just needs you to...hold him and remind him about it, it can sometimes slip his mind.

• Unfortunately, just like most couples you two are not strangers to quarrels or falling out with each other. And when Ace can't solve everything with his happy-go-lucky approach and you're done being forgiving and understanding there's a big storm coming for you. Arguing is impossible with him. Impossibly annoying and exasperating. No matter who starts first, Ace turns into the worst prick ever, he twists your words and ignores all and any attempts of you trying to reason with him. The best defense is an attack, that's clear in his attitude, he's going to turn everything on you and make it seem like you're the one to blame. He's prone to saying very hurtful things in the heat of argument, words he will regret heavily later. But it's going to be later, when he'll have to beg for your forgiveness and think of all possible ways to mend your relationships, at the moment he only wants to shift the blame away from himself, make it seem like he's the only "good guy" here.

No wonder if you get hurt in the aftermath, your boyfriend absolutely can't hold himself accountable for anything. But as soon as Ace notices your offended expression or a first tear he'll shut up immediately. He's suddenly well aware of all the lies he has told you and the realization of just what a jerk he is crushes him. He's going to escape faster then you can utter his name and not show up for at least a couple of days. He's sorry, he really is, and also very ashamed of what he did, but he can't find the words to express it, every time he tries your sad expression surfaces up in his mind.

You surely hate him, don't you? He can't have anything nice, and frankly, he thinks he deserves it. He can't even properly say how much he loves you, and that's after all what you've done for him, how much happier you made him just by reciprocating his feelings. Looking at his pathetic form, a flower bouquet in his hand, eyes not meeting yours, you can only sigh. If you do decide to get it past yourself and propose going out to some nice place, like Monstro Lounge, to sort things out, Ace will practically cry. He will treasure this second chance, hopefully, he won't need any third and fourth.

• Depending on your attitude towards PDA you're either going to absolutely suffer or relinquish in his attention because is this fellow affectionate. Nothing can stop him from kissing your cheek in the middle of the cafeteria or pull you into a hug during the lunch break. Bonus points if you turn red or become embarrassed. Getting irritated kind of checks off in his list as a nice reaction too. No reaction just means that you're cool with his PDA, c'mon, he knows you like it! He can get pretty bold too - impromptu make-out session until somebody screams at you to get a room. This got you a detention a few times, but is he going to stop? No, absolutely not. He reacts very positively if you reciprocate his advances, getting a bit blushy even. It means you're proud to display that you two are dating and that you love him so much that you can't help but kiss or hug him, even when there are other people watching, right? He's going to tease you about it, but actually, he couldn't be more delighted.

• A big spoon, he's going to pout if you try to "baby" him and will say that you look more like a backpack on him, even if you aren't. There are no instances of Ace fitting snugly into your arms because he won't calm down and will even throw a temper tantrum just so he would be the one holding you. Only once you're cuddled up into his chest, you can expect to get your hug and love dose. Well, not before you swat away his hands from your sides and any other ticklish or sensitive spot, Ace is not giving you a break. Chances are you'll have to also take his hands back from under your clothes and lower back. He's having a blast seeing you so irritated! Now if he were to blow in your ear what would you do-

No normal cuddle times with Ace, up until you try to leave him alone or hit him with a pillow into his head. Ace will then catch and restrict your movements, saying that you don't understand jokes at all, and wait for you to melt into his arms once again. Trappola thinks that laying peacefully, while occasionally sharing a kiss or two is nice too, he can stay like this for a long time, just don't abandon him, he doesn't think he will be able to handle losing these precious moments after getting used to them.

• Who knows if Ace had someone before to practice or just gave a hard time to tomatoes in the Botanical Garden, but it's a fact that Ace is very proficient at kissing, and the more you do it, the faster he's able to take your breath away. He's a very fast learner, soon picking up on everything you like, what type of kisses you prefer, where he should place his hands and so on. It's such an ego boost for him to see you flushed, your head dizzy after he separates from you, he can't resist going in for another kiss, successfully roping you into a full make-out session.

• If you think that by dating Ace you will be except from his tricks and pranks, think again. You're his favorite in the entire college, both person and target for teasing. The added bonus is that he actually teaches you some of his skills, tells secrets to some of his "magic tricks", he can't have you losing in card games or anything of that sort to anybody else but him. He will be so angry if you eventually start to beat him too, he complains that you cheat, but you both know that you're just better at cheating than him at this point. He'll have mixed feelings, he's both proud of you and annoyed. If somebody notes to Ace that you've picked up on some of his habits or vice versa he'll boast that, of course, you're a power couple, it's only natural!

• Dates with Ace are spontaneous, or at least he wants you to think so. Each one is actually planned beforehand by him, but he doesn't want to seem "lame" so he plays it cool as if he hasn't been gathering courage the whole day to ask you out. While date places inside the college are pretty limited, outside of it Ace chooses true rare gems, places that you wouldn't be able to find even with a guide or a tourist map. How does he know about them, where from, is a secret. He's so proud of himself when he sees you enjoying yourself. Ace will do anything to see that smile of yours more.

"Ahaha, I knew you would like it! You haven't seen Twisted Wonderland at all. Want to see other places? Well, you don't have a choice but go out with more!"

NSFW

• When it comes to sex Ace's head is full of unrealistic expectations and picked up skills that cannot be applied anywhere, especially on you. He starts all saucy and smooth, but when the realization that he's totally lost and doesn't know what to do settles in, Ace will kind of shut down. The next thing he knows it's you pinning him down and continuing where he left because hell no it would be ending now. And he rolls with it, tries to laugh it off, and even challenges you when he regains his confidence. To give him back the control or not is entirely up to, but that night is pleasurable and exciting nevertheless, with Ace's adaptability it's bound to work out somehow.

• And you can't comprehend the speed with which he improves as a lover. He was able to pick up on most complicated "magic" tricks, figuring out how to do magic with his hips and hands is a breather, you're basically an open book to him, he's been looking at and observing you for a long time, getting better at understanding your facial expressions, gestures, and how they corresponded to the emotions you felt; it's all in his head. Ace is pretty attentive to you and often links your habits to some kinks you may display when you're having fun together, delighted to see when he discovers a connection.

He's also very versatile, sex is all about enjoyment and exploring new things to him, he would lie though, if he said that he wasn't biased to seeing you under him at his mercy. Entirely possible to turn the tables around, but do expect he won't give up without a fight, it's simply not his style. He wants to test just how far you can go with him and vice versa.

•♂️ Just how feisty can he get? A whole lot is the answer, especially if you're not exactly the fan of submitting, much less to a red-haired punk like Ace. You genuinely think Ace would look much better on your own dick, but he's not giving you the pleasure, running his mouth, smirking the whole time, all bratty and naughty. He just begs to be roughed up a little, maybe even a lot, but you're the one calling the shots, since Ace's head is already pressed tightly into a pillow and that cute ass of his is perked up in the air, waiting for something, for anything, preferably to be filled by you. Only fair to make him wait for it too, no?

• Does he love to see you in-between his legs, you just nearing the area of his crotch makes him all excited. He's pretty dirty-minded, yes. You blowing him is one of the most frequent dreams in Ace's head, to the point your jaw would lock forever if you acted it out every time he thought of it. He's pretty open about how much he loves to receive oral from you so if you're comfortable doing it more often, Ace will enjoy every minute of it. Expect hands on your head, holding you down there, and, as long as you're consent, face-fucking you.

• Ace can be pretty egotistical, oftentimes not paying you back for your favor, jumping straight to the other part or blissfully falling asleep. But it's not like he hates going down on you, not at all. He likes to feel you up, turn you on, before slowly descend down on his knees, taking his time to tease you through your underwear until you can't take it anymore. It's a satisfaction, looking at his erotic expressions, half-lidded eyes that search your face for any kind of reaction to his ministrations. The longer he goes, the more painful the tent in his pants becomes, he can't be apathetic to having your sex in his line of sight, leaking and throbbing so arousingly. He can't help but bring one of his hands to his member to relieve at least some of the tension, obediently eating you out/blowing you, until you're satisfied.

w: sex toys • There are many ways to spice thighs up in the bedroom, and of course, using toys is one of them. When Ace suggests employing some of them next time you get frisky, he has likely already got his hands on such and can't wait to bring it out. He's not one of those guys who sees toys as a competition, he's pretty sure he's the main deal there anyway and uses any available vibrator, plug or beads both on you and himself without shame. Well, maybe he will get just a bit jealous if you use them without him when he's free and ready to bang with you, but what a joke, you know some lifeless toy is not the same as him. If you tell him otherwise he'll cry.

w: overstimulation • Those little funny things called sex toys are also very helpful when Ace wants to indulge himself a bit and devote a night to listening to your cries and moans as he overstimulates your poor, exhausted from countless orgasms body. It's a kink he's willing to explore only if you're the one asking him to as a reward for you or if he thinks you haven't been on your best behavior lately and need to be punished. His attitude towards the whole event is very different depending on what preceded it. Should he be gentle and condescending, petting your hair and chuckling at you after he coaxes just another orgasm out of you? Or relentlessly plunge into you, until your body is at your absolute limit? Don't worry though, safe words you pick with Ace are usually so ridiculous they will not slip your mind too easily, guaranteeing that you'll tell him when he's ought to stop.

• This man of many ambitions, Ace made his intentions clear right on the first year, that he wouldn't be against becoming a next dorm leader of Heartslabyul, and without Riddle around it may just become a truth. Now he's the rule here, and while he's definitely not the worst leader the dorm has ever had, he'll use the power his position gives him much more freely than his predecessor. It's not an easy task to scold or give a detention to prefect himself and Trappola is quite proficient at twisting anything that they have to say about him around, debunking any accusation, making a fool out of them. You can only sigh quietly, knowing perfectly well that this poor soul did indeed catch you with Ace's hand shower down your uniform bottoms in an alley not far away from the main building. Well, a blot is no blot till it be hit, it just doesn't seem like your boyfriend will stop embarrassing you in public in the near future. You hope no serious blow will be dealt with your reputation because of Ace's inability to keep his hands to himself. 

Trey Clover ♣

SFW

• The sole founder of "husband material" squad, Trey is unrivaled in being the best in this field and he's all yours. He's very serious about your relationships and works hard to maintain them, he grows and thrives with you by his side. There's not a day Trey doesn't tell or show you how much he treasures you, there's an inexhaustible pool of love for you inside of him and you relinquish in it fully.

• You are Night Raven College's token couple even before you two officially become one. It's obvious Trey cares about you more than just as a friend, there's an underlying gentleness and softness in all of his touches, all the words he says to you, gazes he casts in your direction. He knows what he feels for you is not a platonic feeling one bit and he isn't shy to give you some hints about it. As soon as Trey is sure you're comfortable with him being upfront about his feelings towards you and there's a high chance you will reciprocate them, he's preparing to confess to you and ask you to go out. It's nothing too pompous, but it still manages to impress you.

Trey will cook up some nice meal by himself and make sure your schedules are free, before welcoming you to Heartslabyul dorm or Rose Garden if the weather allows to. Of course, Riddle and Cater will wholeheartedly help their friend to get himself a significant other, Trey is free to stay past the curfew for as long as he needs to channel his feelings to you and Cater will shoot just enough photos to include later in your videos as a couple, the male can't help but swoon over you two!

• Trey is like a reward to you for enduring any hardships throughout your life, withstanding harsh blows and losses. Your heart is now in caring hands, and if he needs to, Trey will help you mend it back piece by piece. Until then he has enough love for both of you and even more. You don't have to struggle alone, he always reminds you that you can rely on and trust him. There are no unrealistic expectations Trey has about his life, he's a very down-to-earth guy, and one of his biggest dreams is to see you happy. He's got to know such an amazing person like you and learned to harbor a lot of adoration towards you, to him you deserve the whole world and all the love in it. As much as he has, he'll give it to you.

• Clover's love has many forms: you feel its warmth in homemade meals he makes for you, in sweet massages he sends you every time he gets the chance to text you during the day, in bear hugs Trey gives you after the long day in college, in hot kisses he presses to your face together with "I love you"s because he really does. You're never alone in times that you catch a cold, which is much rarer now, for a certain someone is all about reminding you to take your umbrella when he sees rain in the weather forecast, helping you choose effective vitamins, get enough nutrients and water, all in all, everything you see better when you observe your loved person from the side. And of course, your dental health is very much a priority. Sorry, it goes without a question, Trey frets over your teeth just as much as he does over his own, he starts a bonding activity to brush them together when you spend morning or evening at each other's dorms.

• Goes without saying how much Trey would treasure you taking care of him back. He has his moments of being dishonest about his own problems, that you should probably know as a loving partner, but ones he doesn't talk with you openly about. He can't resist your pouts or soft touches while you coax what's been bothering him, you have an unfair advantage on him, he thinks. Trey being forgetful is not unheard of too, thankfully you watch him pretty closely yourself. That handsome face and piercing golden eyes give you no choice, really, but it's a different topic. This man's head is always full of responsibilities and tasks he has to do, they can sometimes force something as simple as drinking water or taking a break out from Trey's mind. You can't have that, can you? He's going to smile gratefully if you give him little reminders, blushing slightly, not used to be on the receiving end.

• Arguments start from misunderstanding, undiscussed offenses, foul mood, and overwhelming emotions, and it would be impossible to avoid all of them while being in relationships, but you and Trey somehow manage to do it pretty often. Even though it can be sometimes hard for him, Clover tries to stay attuned to your emotions and notice when something is wrong. Thanks to his rather level-headed personality, Trey approaches every issue in a mature and respectful way, if there's anything you want to discuss with him it's always better to tell him about it straight on, otherwise by the time you do he will have already wind himself up with worry. If your tempers go out of control the worst you can expect from him is raising the tone of his voice and that's all. Trey is not someone who shows openly how angry he is, but it's pretty easy to notice he's feeling down after an especially bad fight or if he acknowledges that either of you hurt the other in the midst of it. He's always open to and waits for a chance to reconcile, he can claim he manages just fine, but going too long without you being near him or always there for him at least through a messenger is hard. He sees arguments as a challenge to overcome, to make your relationships stronger and is fine with them as long as you solve the problem afterward.

• And when it comes to hugging, oh, Trey is CEO of it! You feel like the most secure, protected, warmest cuddle bug in his arms, probably stuck there for a prolonged period of time, the man won't let you go on his own volition, never. Happy? Hug. Excited? Hug. Sad? A hug, a huge tub of ice cream or something he sure will make you happy, and a dozen of kisses to your forehead. Trey doesn't need meditation or yoga to relax, holding you close to his chest eliminates depressive thoughts and clears his skin. He has a preference to being a big spoon, but if you're big enough to hold him and not seem like a small animal clutching to his back then he's willing to be a "little" spoon, but just for a bit, such position makes him too mushy on the inside.

• A curious secret, disclosed only to you, but sometimes you wish you never had it that way. Only you know just what a tease your boyfriend is and how big is Trey's arsenal of underhanded methods to make a bright blush show on your cheeks! Gentleman, courteous and honorable, considerate, and kind to his other half, that's how everyone sees Trey Clover, and you too, albeit you also know how playful and unfair he can be at times. Did you really think he wouldn't notice how you react to certain words, especially praise, or tickling touches to your body on those particular spots, or any other gimmick that makes you shy and meek, all for him to enjoy the show? He doesn't abuse it often, but when in need of some serotonin Trey knows what exactly he has to do to brighten up his day, you're an integral part of his fun. And, well, if you're strongly against teasing, he can always think of a new way to mess with naive first-years or go and initiate cuddle times with you, that you won't refuse, will you?

• The kisses Trey gives to you often have a mature vibe to them. They're not over-the-top or too steamy when it's not called for, but he likes to involve some tongue action, stall you for some time before he finally releases you to go on with your day. Cheek kisses or kisses to the temple and forehead are common to, he can't have you go to classes without your daily dose of love and they're the best when he passes by you in hallways and has limited time to be affectionate with you.

• And being shy about affection in public is definitely not Trey's style. There is not a single soul that doesn't know you're dating, but affirming that fact is never a bad idea. Trey manages to stay classy and refined without neglecting you while going out somewhere and completely adjusts to your preferences, but he's calmer when he can at least hold your hand and doesn't have to fear losing you in a crowd. If you're not against, Trey can be often seen sneaking small kisses to your cheek, but don't expect him to shove his tongue down your throat, he has some manners after all. He can always do it behind the closed doors, he promises to you.

Preparing your own food and then dining together, in the company of each other sounds like an idea for a romantic date, but be assured Trey has a lot of other activities he would be keen on trying out with you. Finally, all those "relationships tips" posts Cater has been sending him since Trey gave the male his MagiCam will prove useful, he thanks himself for not deleting them. Clover is fine both with in- and outdoor dates, alternating between both variants. To his dismay, usually, he can allow himself only to welcome you in his dorm, his position as vice dorm leader takes up a considerable amount of his time, often leaving him too exhausted at the end of the day. However, you're always welcome to visit him for a sleepover and curl with Trey under the blanket, your boyfriend falling asleep almost instantly.

• Upbeat music, funny chatter, and happy laughter, all the while Trey prepares the dinner, handfeeding you some ingredients and letting you taste-test almost ready dishes. You're not obligated to help around, and in a case if you're not that familiar with cooking,Trey himself assures you that you can just sit there prettily and let him do his thing. He can give you lessons or teach you new skills or dishes, but it has to be separate from the normal cooking occasion. Although Clover will never refuse any help, particularly from his partner, so as long as you're confident you won't break something or set the kitchen on fire, he gives you a green light to participate in the process itself.

NSFW

• How deceptive of him to say that you're in caring hands and never mention how dexterous they also are, right until the moment he has you naked on his bed and under the guise of preparing you, unashamedly brings you to climax. Sooner than later you'll plead for him to go harder and finally give you the real deal that you've been eyeing for a while in his pants. Is he really that considerate or was just teasing you, you're not sure, but how his lips curl in a devious smirk upon hearing soft moans of his name from your lips doesn't help either.

• Regardless if he's being fair or not, your hole still requires some preparations before Trey can sink into you, this man packs some nice sized equipment in his pants, enough to rival several known non-humans. He's a bit apprehensive about going rougher on you at first, controlling the movements of his hips and not allowing himself go completely in fear of hurting you, but as you sleep with each other more often, you may convince him that you can handle more - a faster pace, deeper thrusts, his hands holding you closer. He asks you if are really sure, an unsaid warning in the gold of his irises. Rest assured, the possibility of you not being able to walk properly the next day is very high.

• Fret not, this man is absolutely the best at aftercare, and you're never seriously worn out or rouged up, to begin with, while your boyfriend pampers just the living daylight out of you. Trey wipes you clean, carries you to the bathroom if you need one, treats every little bruise, looking just a little too peeved about them, dresses you in comfy pajamas and definitely feeds you some snacks, while he pets your head and calls you darling and dear, compliments how great you are for him and how good he felt, you're just the best, he can't possibly get enough of you. He just laughs when it earns him a worried look in return, he's a good guy, don't you know, he's not going to strain you anymore that night, even though he's tempted. Oh no, sit tight, he can't let you go anywhere at such an hour, a responsible boyfriend wouldn't allow it. Sleep peacefully beside him, he's going to protect you from all harm.

tw: daddy kink • The reason why you would require nice aftercare after the deed stems not only from the necessity for Trey to care of your body but also of your mind. He's very into dominating you, leaving you vulnerable to both his words and touches. But don't worry little one, Daddy is there for you, he can see how badly you need to be loved, to be pleasured. While Trey does get a rush out of being the one in control, having you entirely at his mercy and sometimes disciplining you, he's also very gentle and kind and wants you to see him as somebody who will love you unconditionally will be always there for you, he wants to make sure you feel special and cherished. Trey is careful, he asks you prior about your limits and safe word is always there to ensure you only enjoy yourself, he wouldn't bear you getting hurt.

• But seeing you cry... It's his guilty pleasure. Tears running down your flushed cheeks, while he has you bent over his knee, spanking your ass, or beneath him, begging for him to let you cum, after he has edged you for countless times already. You look so sweet and adorable, gasping for air, your glassy eyes on him, but unable to see anything. He both wants to comfort you and make you wail even harder for him. Ah, you really bring all those twisted parts of him out, but you're his sweetheart, you can handle it, right? You will do it for Daddy?

• When it comes to turn-ons, there's one, in particular, Trey would like to explore with you. Who could have thought that responsible, reliable senior and relatively "normal" guy out of the whole Heartslabyul bunch would unashamedly surprise his dear significant other by sharing a dirty secret of his to see you bent over the counter in the kitchen? The proposition comes seemingly out of nowhere, one moment Trey is about to place the dough for just another tart in the fridge, and the other he has you trapped between himself and the table, a very prominent erection pressed into your rear. Trey creates a path up your throat, placing chaste kisses until he stops just by your mouth and questions whether you would want him to continue. If you do decide to humor him, prepare for the most exciting, and simultaneously the most frightening experience in your life, you're always at the danger of being walked on. It seemed however that unlike you, Trey genuinely hoped for somebody to come. He has to try another time, maybe it'll make every male in college know that you're off the limits, most likely permanently. He also swears to get it up with you more often, when you'll have your own kitchen.

• Trey adores positions where he can hold you against or cage you between some surface and his own body, it makes you look so beautiful and cute, as he's the only one able to command the tempo and you can just receive him into yourself and grace his ears with your pleasured cries and moans. Good old missionary is one of Clover's favorite too when he wants to go all out on you and pay you the attention you deserve.

• It's a heart-crushing sight, your boyfriend visits your dorm after the long and tiring day of helping Riddle to manage the dorm and also taking care of his own business. You want to help somehow, take care of the needs the man has, like getting a relaxing temple massage, a cup of hot tea, and a nice blowjob to top it off. Trey's eyes are full of adoration and gratitude, you can see them clearly as you allow more of his cock into your mouth, sucking and licking the shaft, releasing it when you can no longer breath properly, going without a break on a man such as Trey is difficult after all. But he's encouraging you, caressing your head and permitting hoarse moans to let you know how much he loves it. Blowjob as a stress reliever works exceptionally well for Trey, it obvious in the way his shoulders relax and deep frown goes away from his face when he spills into your mouth. Pray that your jaw doesn't lock, because this man may or may not have been withholding his release, just to keep watching you bob your pretty head on his dick. He's going to properly thank you, not at all repulsed to kiss you in the lips and assure that he won't forget this debt he has to you and will repay it soon enough.

• And you never have to wait long and never because you did it first. Trey does not think of himself as a remarkable gourmet, but he knows what's good and your taste even better than some of the best delicacies he's ever tasted. This tongue of his can work wonders on you, making you arch into his mouth chasing after the pleasure it offers, only for Trey to pin your hips to the surface you're on, he has a task and your trashing-around break his concentration. While on the one to blush easily, Trey can feel his cheeks become hotter, he has to take his glasses off pretty soon, he can't see a thing behind the misty lenses.

• In general everything that has to do with your or his mouth makes him hot and bothered. He's used to focusing his attention on that particular body part, just imagining how you can accommodate him into that small little cavern or having your private parts near his face, your taste on his tongue is enough to have Trey's pulse speed up and he makes a tactical retreat to his own room, to "take care of some business". Oral fixation is strong here. Even in a very pure setting, like brushing your teeth or feeding you something by hand, his mind starts to race with very erotic thoughts. Trey will never pass a chance for a make-out session, he definitely prefers kissing over any other form of affection display.

• What can be better than combining both your taste and the sweets he loves so much? This man's tarts actually have way more spice than vanilla in them. Indulging himself in eating out of you and biting both strawberries your trembling hand holds out for him and your soft flesh is not the weirdest thing you've probably done. Covering your body in whipped cream and "accidentally" licking your weak spots, your privates too, was novel and amusing at most. It's a "sticky" situation you would want to repeat again though. When experimenting with Trey you always know that however it goes, you will be in loving hands.

Cater Diamond ♦

SFW

• A playboy and a social butterfly, Cater is not somebody you would pin as a good boyfriend at a first sight, but don't be fooled by his acting: he's one of the most loyal individuals out there, while also extremely affectionate and supportive of you. Soon you will find yourself to be a center of his attention, a bright star that Cater's planet orbits. As carefree and lighthearted as your boyfriend is, there's more to him that an eye can see and than he's willing to show.

• Flirting is in Cater's nature and of course a few pick-up lines and flirty remarks fly your way, but the thing is, he doesn't usually attach much meaning to them, except for letting you know he thinks you're cute, and nobody bats an eye most of the time. So when you actually take him seriously or flirt back, Cater is lost. He's not really used to a two-way coquet conversation, he probably should answer to your advances? He must, after all, he did try to pin after you and to interact with you more. He's screaming on the inside, he doesn't want to screw this up by being too upfront or cringy, there's something about you that makes butterflies flutter in his stomach. You giving him the attention and compliments back really is the green light for him to pursue you further, something he probably wouldn't dare to do otherwise.

Your interactions are pretty lighthearted, albeit flirtatious and not-so-ambiguous, everyone can get that there's something going on between you two. People don't usually see Cater as a "boyfriend material", sadly, but it doesn't mean he is not longing for being loved and having a significant other, no, he craves it. He's ready to dive head-first into relationships to experience it all, he's in love with the idea of love. Still, he doesn't miss how comfortable he feels around you, that you've become his best friend almost instantly and when he wants to confide in somebody you're now the first person he thinks about. It's a long way ahead before Cater will start to appreciate you and not the "idea of you" that his mind created, but you'll eventually get to it, no one said it would be easy.

• Until then, it's mostly fun and giggles as you parade through college grounds together. The moment Cater is officially no longer single, everyone will know about it. His MagiCam is flooded by your couple photos, hashtags are long strings of compliments for you. You're basically everywhere: on his lock and home screen, his avatars in apps, posts in social media, he even creates memes or reaction pics with you and uses them in group chats. If you're not much of a public person all the incoming attention from everywhere will be overwhelming, but Cater is there to reassure you that you're just too cute to not be seen, all his subscribers already love you. Of course not as much as he does though~♡ Negative comments? No, don't exist, anybody stupid enough to say foul things about you is reported and banned swiftly.

He will recruit you to help him create an image collage on his wall in his room, or, really, a separate board because Riddle didn't give him the permission to touch the wall itself. There are so many pictures he wants to put up, he can't choose! When it's all ready, adorned in fairy lights in best traditions of MagiCam aesthetic posts, you can count photos that don't have you in them on the fingers of one hand: two with Trey, one for Riddle, one for Adeuce duo and another one with everyone in it. Everything else is just you and Cater.

"I can see everyone I love like this, isn't it cute?"

"That's mostly me though, Cay."

"Well, fair enough, I love you the most, my sunshine! I should post it, time for photoshoot~"

One unfortunate evening, the rare one when he feels horribly down and you're not there to cheer him up, Cater realizes that if you two had to walk separate paths he would have to rip a big piece of his heart away; little and enormous reminders of your presence in his life are everywhere. He takes his phone, the keychain on it is your gift, unlocks it and your picture is there, goes to his contacts and you're the first on the list, the melody for your call is different from others, but right now he's the one calling you, desperate to hear that whatever grim world his brain showed him it is not a reality.

• Cater is quite intelligent and knows how to read the room, you're never under the pressure with him. Of course, he tries to be affectionate as much as possible, but it's always within your boundaries. PDA is always present, whether it's swinging your hands, or giving kisses to your cheeks and forehead. You're adorable, soft and all his to relive all of his fantasies about snuggling his significant other and doing all the "couple" stuff.

You can notice, however, that in some instances Cater is not really "there", less tender and doting. Truth is, he's not always fired up and needs to be physical with you, but doesn't want to be left out or decline you some lovey-dovey times. When you notice it, even if it's so hard because when is this boy honest about his feelings, tell him to relax, you know he's not in the mood right now. You apparently hit close, because his demeanor changes right away.

"I can't hide anything from you, can I?"

Cater is all about quietly sitting beside each other, doing own thing but being comfortable with the silence, just enjoying the presence of the other. He didn't think you would find it an ideal way to spend your time, he's both surprised and glad he doesn't have to go out of his way and act all cheery and peppy. Each day he's more grateful that it's you who he's dating.

• Cater always thought he fared just fine, but with you coming into his life, he notices how many changes you've brought with you. "Cay-kun" doesn't always have to be positive when he's around you, and when he is happy it's because he genuinely feels this way, but it’s always the case when he’s around you. Less scrolling MagiCam feed and more chatting with you, he finds that stopping everywhere just to take photos while you're out for a date actually takes away a lot of time that could be spent on enjoying it with you. He doesn't have to rely on the camera to catch every moment with you if he can create even more exciting ones as long as you're with him.

First, second, several months anniversaries come unexpectedly. Cater can remember the date you started going our even if he was wakes up in the middle of the night, but to think that you're still dating by this time? He's both relieved and anxious, how much more time will it take for you to grow completely bored of him, it can't all be permanent, such things simply don't exist. And still, he hopes, he hopes, because he doesn't think he will be able to let you go.

When all is too much and he doesn't think he can take it anymore it's your touch that he doesn't shy away from, your eyes that can look at him in such state, you who he knows won't judge him for being unable to smile at the moment, who doesn't expect him to always be the Cay he shows to the world. Your love doesn't waver, gentle palm still cups his cheek, lips place loving kisses into the crown of his head. He wished it never came to this, but he needs you to be his support, at times his lifeline, when he feels like he can't speak to anybody else.

• While initially Cater placed a lot of trust into you simply because of your status as his "significant other" he learned to think of you both as his loved one and his best friend, he didn't have to play a role of "perfect boyfriend" for you to love and support him, a true revelation about how relationships actually work. Cater's threshold for weirdness it too high, you can discuss whatever you want with him and he will never judge, he'll even try to learn about it more or give you his own insight. Many strange inside jokes were born that way, no one, not even Riddle or Trey, have any understanding of what you two are howling with laughter about, and at this point they're too afraid to ask. With Cater you don't have to be afraid that nobody will support you or listen to what you have to say, even if he doesn't know what you're talking about at all he's always eager to listen since he knows you too will always be there for him.

• But when you are not willing to listen to each other, that's when your relationships are put to the test. It's pretty difficult to discuss unpleasant topics with Cater, like his flirting habits or social media obsession, because he doesn't even acknowledge you two have a problem, dismissing your concerns in a carefree manner which is frustrating at best. Infuriating at worst. If this conversation leads to addressing some other hang-ups that you have about him or will uncover more sensitive topics, he doesn't want to hold it at all. He twists and turns, tries to sway you to talk about something else, takes away your mind by flirting and being very affectionate with you. But he sees how his behavior hurts you and doesn't bring the results he counted on; Cater will then turn serious. You're afraid of the same thing, aren't you?...

I'd you didn't blow up and start a real fight before the realization hits Cater, you might as well gain something from this quarrel, otherwise, he will leave saying that he can't speak with you in this state. Because Cater doesn't share his "less positive" emotions freely it's hard to understand when you're having a problem or if he's angry and upset about something, but he also let's go offenses pretty quickly, so as long as you spend enough time with him, look out for him and help him through some difficulties, even indirectly, the man will feel secure in your relationships, he can overlook minor inconveniences.

• Kisses on the cheek, kisses on the forehead, hand kisses, flying kisses, embarrassing-you-in-the-middle-of-the-cafeteria kisses. They never end and always reach their target like Cupid's arrows, Cater makes sure of it. When you're not getting smooched by your dear boyfriend honestly? Even at night he spams you with heartfelt massages, including anything from beating hearts 💓 to kiss marks and kissy emoji 💋😘, all to send his love across to you in any form. Clingy much, but you will never suffer from the lack of attention with Cater. Everybody just tries to get a separate room themselves, no point in telling Diamond to stop, his lips will near you soon enough after he seemingly ended his onslaught. Queen of Hearts forbid you're in the same class as him, Crewel is so close whip the hell out of you two. "If you know what's good for you, prefect [Y/n], you better discipline that unruly, overly affectionate puppy of yours!" Looking at those sparkling green orbs, unmoving and fixated on you, awaiting what you will say, how can you refuse them? And even if you do, will you forgive yourself, when he lowers his head, heart-wrenching whine shudders from his lips. "You don't love me anymore?" reads in his eyes, trying to gaze at you sideways. You may lament for your fate as much as you like, this man will try everything, just you get your attention back to him.

• Aren't you tired? Don't you just feel like cuddling up to somebody, so he would wrap his hands around you, cradle you while he whispers sweet nothings into your ears? Cater does it, and frequently so. Skinship is something you never have a shortage of.

Cater is the ultimate cuddler; spoon, fork, whatever, as long as he has skin contact with you and you both feel comfortable. When you're having down-time during the day, or it's still early into the evening, Cater will choose a position that allows him to both hold his phone up and caress you with the other hand, so go ahead and cozy up into his chest while on top of him or in between his legs. Cater can stay in one position for a long time, shifting here and there, but he ain't leaving, that's for sure. It's important bonding moment between you, he needs his daily dose of hugs, what's better than to dedicate a few hours to doing just that. If he knows he won't be able to sneak away with you for some quality snuggle time, then he will sure as hell take every chance he gets during the day to hug you, when he runs into in the hallway, searches for you during the lunch break, finds you after the classes before either Riddle or Trey drags him away, but Cater can not spend a day without thinking whether he gave you enough love and if you didn't feel like he forgot about you.

• Are you prepared for a rowdy café tour? Because Cater wants you to visit each and every one of his favorite! You can go out with him, and make lots of cute selfies and taste all the different food Twisted Wonderland has to offer. Well after considering it carefully Diamond does come to the conclusion that you won't be able to appreciate and savor what those places have to offer you fully in only one day, so he plans for several dates ahead, each time something new! And they're just perfect! The weather is always pleasant, you have time to take in the beauty of this world, chat and have a nice time with Cater and he always knows when there's some event going on nearby. But because he can get distracted by shooting and uploading photos to MagiCam, try to stay near him and wander around too much, he's looking at you, or at least in the general direction where he saw you the last time as soon as he's finished with his business. One time when he lost you, whether it was intentional on your part or not, he got a huge scare, by the time he found you he was teary-eyed, pleading for you not to go without him. He feels responsible for keeping you safe and sound while you're on a date with him and he will sigh with relief only when he escorts you right to your doorstep that evening, no other way around it.

NSFW

• Your first time is very interesting, to say the least. It's not like Cater doesn't know what he's doing, but his heart just can't calm down. He has set up a romantic atmosphere beforehand, takes you out for a dinner, you find yourself being completely swooned by his suave act, how absolutely handsome he looks and how much you would like to dishevel those orange locks and place his lips on your neck to feel him place his mark on you while his hand takes off your underwear and... The romance of lit candles and rose petals thrown around is lost on you, when you have a chance to get your hands on Cater in the privacy of his room and finally see all your wet dreams come true. He doesn't resist any of your wishes or commands. Even though his hands shake and the brain is already a complete mush, Cater will make feel so good you will hook up on having sex with him, arranging for more evenings with him ere long.

• Sex is sex, but Cater feels like it becomes more interesting tenfold when someone is placed under the care of the other, simply put being submissive, and he performs well on both sides. Cater is open-minded and willing to experiment with many kinks and fetishes, into both giving and receiving them. You want to be absolutely demolished by him, tied up and overstimulated until your mind goes blank? Or maybe lavished in praise and pampered to infinity, called every cutesy name he can come up with, while he treats you a mouthful of his dick, only to take it away from you when you've wet it enough and listen to your begging for some time before he buries it deep inside of you, ultimately granting your most sacred wish and just spend the rest of the night with you bouncing on it until he pumps you full of his cum, enough to soil the covers irreparably? Okay, no problem, if he sets his mind to it, Cater can be the most excruciating, authoritative Master for you or gentle, fair Cay-kun, whose touch makes your heart arch and long for more.

• But say he's your slave tonight and the next thing he has to do is to kneel obediently and open that pretty mouth of his, and he's already there, looking up to you from his spot on the floor, tongue lolled out of his mouth, already panting, hungry for more. As soon as you set boundaries, Cater will submit to you dutifully, he's kind of bad at being a brat, he takes his role very seriously. Baby boy Cater loved to nuzzle into you, comment how much he adores you and everything you to him, laugh and giggle happily when you fondle and kiss him. Even if it's so painful, he won't cum until you grant him permission, tears stream down his face, movements uneven. Earns him a smack, because you told him not to break the pace, while he thrusts from his position on top. But all the control is in your hands, it's unimaginable for him to disobey you right now. He begs and begs for you to let him go faster, release his semen into you, voice breaking midsentence. Coo at him and either allow him to cum or ask to hold just a little longer, he's your prettiest, best baby boy, he can do it.

Or maybe restrict him, hands behind and legs open for you to see all of him, and place him on his stomach, blindfolded and gagged, able to only whine pathetically when you flog his perky ass or trace the rim and shove lubed fingers inside. By the time you're done with him, poor Cater is exhausted, tear marks obvious on the blindfold you take off. Once he can see you before him, he will reach out for you, shuddering when you embrace him, he can finally let out his breath and relax into you, having barely enough strength to follow simplest commands as you begin your aftercare.

w: selfcest(?) • Try and object that his unique magic doesn't see any use at the bedroom. There's no way he can't touch, lick, and kiss every part of you, you deserve to have only five-star service. One star for each Cater at most, but even with another pair of hands, hungry mouth and hard dick he can make it an experience you won't forget soon. He and his other self will suck on your nipples, their hands working on your core in tandem, preparing you, before they lift you up and fill you with their cocks.

• How about one of the Caters films you getting ganged up on by those handsome redheads, playful whispers mixed in with your moans and wet sounds of skin slapping. He will choose the best angle to catch your beauty, so when you or he watches the video way later, they could see how your body shivers from the pleasure pairs of hand give you, your muscles shifting and limbs twisting as you eagerly impale yourself on what one of Caters offers you. The camera would catch how he laps at the tears that escaped your eyes, and how another him has made himself comfortable in your hand, thrusting into it unrelentingly, just like the fourth Cater that's rocking your world, abusing your poor hole. His magic will eventually come to an end, but sure enough, he would be able to support it long enough to completely fuck your brain out, you won't even notice there's your one and only Diamond slowly wiping your body and kissing any marks that he had left.

If such footage makes you want to set both it and yourself on fire, mind to consider sexting with Cater? This guy had no shame sending you obscene messages even during the lessons, getting you all hot and bothered by the descriptions of what be would do to you if you two were together right now. During the break, you're bound to receive a picture of his hard dick, taken somewhere in the restroom. Cater will be ecstatic if you send one in return, so much that he might just as well need to relieve himself right in the same cabin, because he can't possibly go out in such state, his manhood making an obvious tent in his pants. And if you can sneak to the place where he's pleasuring himself at the moment, bonus points and either a possibility to bring sex in public places to a new level or extract your punishment on your horny brat of a boyfriend, choose your pick.

• Ah, the chaos and embarrassment that Cater goes through when after those rowdy 20 or so minutes in public bathroom, he goes out completely disheveled  with hickeys littering his neck. You two found out pretty soon, to Cater's mortification, that his skin is impossibly thin, any and every mark becomes a nasty bruise a few seconds after and doesn't heal for days on end. Nobody questions what he does at night, his neck probably tells the whole story. Not like he's going to hide them anyway, he couldn't be more proud and smug about the whole situation. Yes, he gets some, from no one other than you, and every time is just fantastic. Along his neck, he practically begs you to suck some marks into his inner thighs and chest. He gets so many kicks out of seeing purple and red hues fading away from his skin, but not fast enough so he could marvel at them for some time. Maybe if he traces them he could feel your teeth scrapping at him, you urging him to not withhold and cum in your hand that gets faster with every stroke. He really needs right now, are you going to answer your phone at such hour, only to be met with his breathy moans and groans resounding in your ear?

• When you can be beside him Cater prefers to have your hand fisting him dick instead, his own hand goes to your legs, you masturbating each other. Cater considers it's a nice to fool around like this once in a while, especially when you can't make much noise or don't have the energy for more physically tasking activities. It's still intimate and hot, and he will always choose you in favor of anything else, your sheer presence makes his nerves tinge, his own hand nowhere near as good, movements never bring him to edge as fast as yours do. He might spend all his day in bed with you, do you have any tasks more important than him?

• Choosing favorite position for penetrative sex would be awfully hard for Cater, each one has its own upsides. He loves seeing your face just as much as your backside, and while he feels very sexy on his four, being above you allows him a better angle and just another way to show off. Somehow he rocks any pose, always looking absolutely ravishing, his facial expressions are to die for. Man can even do an ahegao for you, but note that it should be requested beforehand~

But one pose has a special place in his heart. When you feel Cater grinding up at you from behind, but not doing any attempts to climb on top of you, on the contrary, holding you close to him as much as possible, he may be initiating some comfort cuddle sex. He doesn't want you to see him at the moment and he can't possibly let you go out of his embrace: he needs your warmth in his arms, surrounding him, tight wall squeezing down on him, milking every droplet of cum, all the while he leisurely thrusts up into you, but hard enough that you would have to concentrate on the grip of his arms around you, just so you wouldn't cum on spot. He wants you to, though, cooing and encouraging you to let go, sighing happily when he feels your clamp around him, but not stopping. He wants to prolong this moment as much as possible.

• Offer this guy a blowjob and you will see pants flying across the room faster then you can say "overblot". He's like a kid on the Christmas morning, excited to find his present, but Cater finds you in between his legs and he swears it's the best gift he's ever received. With bated breath he observes you unbuckling his belt, a surprisingly pronounced bulge there. His fully erect state is not be underestimated too, Cater can boast about having bigger than average length, alas he's not that big in girth. To fit it in your throat is quite a task however, you may need some time to adjust, maybe even a few tries to master it. Of course your boyfriend doesn't mind, he wholeheartedly supports it. Well, it would be less embarrassing for him if he didn't cum in the first few minutes, but he actually did well, considering that he definitely got a visual orgasm early on. But you looked so sinfully beautiful and erotic, how could he ignore it?! No living man would be able to stay apathetic when his loved one is working magic on him, while being an absolute sex deity! If you let him cum on your face he will vow to bent over himself just to grant you anything you can wish for. And if he can also snap a photo of your semen-stained face?! He's a goner, just a slave to your celestial self, you can play Cater however you wish.

Might as well remind him about your own needs, but chances are he's already down there, burring his face in your thighs, placing kisses everywhere, swiftly nearing the place you want to feel him the most on. In his determination to repay you back, he will temporarily forget that he even needs to breath, his mouth doesn't leave your core, he can only see, smell, and taste you. It's a messy ordeal, Cater's spit mixed in with your own fluids, dripping down his chin. Lot's of paper towels will be needed afterward, but right now he's almost high, like a man possessed, tongue swirling in ways unimaginable to you before, tiny supernovas keep exploding behind your eyes. It's a battle of stamina, who will collapse weakened and wasted faster, but at the end Cater's tongue is numb and your knees won't stop shaking, deeming it a win-win situation.

[dongofthewolf]

Slowly Learning That Life Is Okay

Abby Anderson x Fem!Blind!Reader

Sweet sweet fluff about fear of intimacy where Abby rescues the reader and they unexpectedly become closer.

Requested by @rianncreates

Warnings: swearing, fluff, minor violence(?), cute gay shit :)

A/N: I am not visually impaired but I really tried my best to write a character whose lack of sight doesn't define them. I wanted to portray how our differences don't define us; we're all connected in a way (as cheesy as it may sound), and it makes me sad to see small things like not being able to hear/see divide us.

Ever since you were a kid, people have always had a hard time looking you in the eyes. Due to your condition, they appeared hazy and almost grey; something that made a lot of people uncomfortable. In fact, most people don’t even know it, but you can actually tell when someone is turning away so they don’t have to face you. There’s a certain recognizable sound when someone purposely looks away to avoid affording you the basic decency of eye contact, and it’s dehumanizing as fuck. It didn’t matter that you weren’t completely blind, it was enough that you were still alienated from the rest of the world. They didn’t see you as a person, to them you were your blindness–it defined you. It’s the reason people were afraid to interact with you, why kids were always so cruel to you, and why you always kept people at an arm's-length. That is, until you met Abby.

Abby was unlike anyone you had ever met; she was the first person who saw you—truly saw you. While most people knew her to be Isaac’s top scar killer, you knew her as the girl who tended to your wounds after she found you patrolling the city. She was the smell of pine and fresh rain that filled your senses, and her voice was like a soothing ailment when she calmly reassured you that everything would be fine. 

In the WLF infirmary, Abby never left your side. It’s not like your injuries were super severe or anything, but she stayed with you regardless. She wrapped your arms with fresh bandages when they needed changing, and got you desserts from the cafeteria using her connections to Isaac. After a few days, you quickly learned that the two of you had a lot in common and soon she was visiting you almost every day.

It’d been a month now and you’ve officially made the WLF stadium your new home. You and Abby were sitting in your room while she read to you with that same lovely voice. It had become a habit now; Abby had read to you in the infirmary, and ever since then she's been coming over so she can share all her favourite books with you. She was just starting a new chapter when you interrupted her. “Abby?”

Abby instantly stopped reading, and you could feel the bed shift as she sat up to face you. “What’s up?” 

“Can I ask you something?” You were nervous. Although she had been nothing but kind to you, you didn’t want to ruin what happened to be the closest friendship you’ve had in a really long time. 

You could hear her smiling as she answered. “Anything.”

You hesitated; you’d never normally do this with anyone else, but you trusted Abby. As you sat there contemplating your next words, Abby gently took your hand before continuing with that same reassuring tone she had used when you guys first met. “Hey, you know you can always talk to me right?”

Her hands were so warm. It was such a small detail that most people probably wouldn’t notice, but for some reason it was all you could think about in that moment. They were rough and calloused from years of combat but whenever she touched you, it was delicate and light. It was as if she was afraid that she would hurt you, even though you knew she never would. God, why can’t you think straight while she’s holding your hand like that? Fuck, it shouldn’t be that hard.

You struggled to get the words out, like something in your chest was weighing you down. “I just… I don't want things to change.”

“Hey, nothing you say could ever push me away. Okay?” Abby was softly caressing the top of your hand with hers as she set the book aside.

“I was wondering if I could…” Fuck, how were you supposed to say this? You paused trying to decide how to word it, but it still came out wrong. “feel your face?” 

Abby didn’t respond, and if she hadn’t been holding your hand then, you would’ve thought she had left. After waiting for what felt like a whole five minutes (but was probably closer to thirty seconds) you were starting to get nervous. “Abby? You still there?”

Your voice must have snapped her out of it because she responded immediately. “Yeah, sorry I just… I was expecting something a lot worse. Like you murdered some kittens or something.” 

You giggled at the sincerity in her voice, relief flooding through you. “Kittens? God Abby who the fuck do you think I am?”

“I don’t know! I thought you were admitting some deep dark secret.” Abby nervously laughed along with you, her hand never leaving yours. 

As you both settled down, Abby shakily brought your hand to her cheek, silently signalling to you that it was okay. You hesitantly caressed it, softly stroking the lines of her cheekbones with a smile on your face. Your hand then slowly moved up towards her forehead, your fingers tracing the scar above her eyebrow. The scar was thin like from a blade or a scrap piece of metal, and you couldn’t help but wonder how she had gotten the scar–wondered how many scars she had gotten after years of fighting in that senseless war. 

You’d never say it out loud because the WLF had saved your life, but the war with the Seraphites was unnecessary and quite frankly, useless. All of the so-called “sacrifices” being made for the sake of some fucking land was just stupid and greedy. 

You weren’t really a religious person–especially considering the whirlwind of shit you’ve been through–but if this whole virus was a result of some higher being thrusting humans into extinction? You couldn’t blame them. All these survivors were granted a second chance to better themselves, thousands of people by some miracle had survived the outbreak, only for them to revert back to the same tired, old ideology of war and power. You supposed that even after all these years, humans never really change.

Your fingers moved slowly back down, passing the bridge of her nose and her Cupid’s bow before reaching her lips. They were soft and parted slightly when you reached for them, but she still didn’t move.

Abby stayed incredibly still as you took your time feeling her face, exploring every crevice—every detail of her subtle features. You could feel a stray strand of hair hanging next to her face, so you lightly brushed it behind her ear before bringing your hands back down to rest on your lap. But before you could fully pull away, your hand brushed up against something rigid and stiff. It took you a moment before you realized that you were touching her huge bicep, and you were astonished at her strength. It also took you a minute before you realized that you were literally feeling up her muscles, causing a sudden heat to rush towards your cheeks as you quickly retrieved your hands. 

“Oh um… sorry I didn’t mean to- I mean I didn’t realize-” You tried to get the words out but you couldn’t. “Fuck this is awkward.”

Abby chuckled watching you get all flustered from touching her arms, and then out of nowhere it slipped out. “God you’re adorable.”

Then there was a pause, you weren’t sure you had heard her correctly but from the way her laughing suddenly came to a halt, you were sure she had just said what you thought she did.

“Uh, shit. I should… I should go.” Abby began standing up but before she could, you reached out and grabbed her arm. You pulled her towards you again, tracing your hand back towards her cheek as you gently cupped the side of her face with your palm.

“Don’t go.” Abby’s cheeks grew warm under your touch. You wanted more than anything to tell her how you feel–how you’ve felt for her since the moment you two had first met. 

After spending so much of your life consumed by this irrational fear of abandonment and intimacy, you had let someone in. You lowered the barrier that you had spent so long building because of her. And of course it was easy to assume that you liked Abby just because she was one of the only people you hung out with, but it wasn’t like that. Abby wasn’t like the rest of your friends or family because she was never overbearing; most people were quick to treat you like a child or some helpless creature, but she never did. She gave you space when you needed it, but she also never made you feel lonely. Her presence was calming and comforting. Abby gave so much and expected nothing in return.

The possibility that your feelings for her were reciprocated made your heart flutter, but it was also really scary. This was entirely new territory; relationships were never a priority for you by any means, especially since survival has always been your prime concern. But now that you’ve found asylum here with the WLF—with Abby, you were safe. You were free to live, free to enjoy the prospect of a somewhat normal life, and you better believe you were going to take full advantage of this newfound normalcy.

You leaned in towards Abby, your foreheads touching and your lips just millimeters apart. As you placed both of your hands on her cheeks, Abby stayed impossibly still as her nose softly grazed yours. Abby’s hands landed on top of yours as she held them against her face, securing them there like she was afraid you would leave. 

Then–as if it wasn’t the most terrifying thing ever–you kissed her. It was delicate and gentle, and you nearly cried because of how perfect it was. And although you had just felt her lips with your fingers, nothing compared to how they felt against yours. They were so soft you wanted to melt into them, and in that moment you nearly did. Your body involuntarily leaned into her, your arms falling against her broad shoulders in an effort to support yourself, before slowly moving to wrap around the back of her neck, pulling her even closer. All that built up tension from weeks of spending nearly every day together suddenly dissipated the moment you closed that gap, and those tears that had previously threatened to fall suddenly did. Small teardrops fell from both your eyes and wet your cheeks, causing Abby to pull back slightly as she wiped them with the pads of her thumbs. “What’s wrong?”

You gave her a small smile as you chuckled slightly. “Nothing, I just… I really like you Abby.”

As soon as the words fell out, Abby laughed softly before embracing you for a kiss once again. When the two of you finally pulled apart Abby spoke again with that same heavenly voice of hers. “I really like you too Y/N”

[ladywhistleclown]

Benedict Bridgerton x M!Reader: Valentines Fools

Summary: Benedict does something special. Word Count: 3334 A/N: I read this post about Valentines in Regency England, and found it so interesting that I had to write about it. of course, I made it gay. duh. Also, I wrote the ‘poem’ later myself, but its inspired by many LGBT poets/writers from history who wrote poems like it, about hope for future LGBT folks, just very simplified. This is some of my best work, and I don’t want it to get snubbed just because its not f/m, so like, give it a chance! MLM fic is also fun :) Enjoy! Warnings: Fluff, Drinking, Giggly men doing giggly men things (being stupid) -- Valentines Day, in your mind, was a rather dreadful event. Ladies and Lords spent days agonizing over hand-made letters, writing disgusting poetry about love, or rejection. You had never partaken in the act, partly because you had never had anyone to write to, and partly because even if you had, you had neither the patience nor skill to craft such detailed notes of devotion. You thought it best to leave such things to artists and ladies, of which you were neither. This year was only slightly different. After having met Benedict at Lord Granville's, striking up conversations about art, women, and your places in society, you had developed a rather strange relationship, one that you would almost call a courtship, if it wasn’t so clearly an impossibility. Benedict simply wanted to explore something new, something outside the realm of society and expectations, and you, lovesick fool that you were, happily obliged him. It was nothing more than attraction and curiosity. Second son or not, Benedict could never marry a man. Even if he wanted to.

At least you could drown yourself in booze at Lord Granville's. He was a good listener, with even better advice, and you knew that he understood exactly your pain. It was here you found yourself, a day before Valentines, throwing down your sixth beer and lamenting to Granville, who sat patiently by your side. “Society is not kind to those like us.” You sighed, running the tip of your index finger along the outer edge of your glass, staring blankly at it, as though if you drank enough, the answers would appear in the liquor. “No, it isn’t. But we are kind to each other, and ourselves.” He replied, looking over you with pity. You had never been much of a drinker, not for as long as Granville had known you, but your infatuation with Benedict had brought it out in you, and he wondered if it was a mistake to invite the Bridgerton boy here, if it caused an old friend to suffer in a way that was very familiar and personal to him. He knew the pain of impossible love too well, and saw himself reflected in your morose state. “Of course. You’re too kind to me, Granville. I talk your ear off about my foolish troubles with Bridgerton, but never think to ask of yours.” “I am not nearly as troubled as you are. And as I said, we must look out for each other, as the ton certainly will not.” he lifted up his own drink, pausing just before it reached his lips to glance at you, “Perhaps I should dis-invite Bridgerton from future events?” “Oh hell, Granville, don’t torture the man on my account. He enjoys the art and the company, and besides that,  I’d rather him here than at some brothel.” you grimaced as soon as the words left your mouth, an embarrassing slip revealing just how deeply attached you were. “Apologies. The alcohol has loosened my tongue.” “No bother. I understand that jealousy quite well.” Granville said, his voice still light and amused, and you couldn't help but laugh as he took a sip, winking at you before putting his glass down. “What jealousy?” Came a loud voice from directly behind you. You jumped, Granville almost knocking his drink over in his shock. Of course, he would arrive now, when you were drunk and foolish. You breathed out quickly, praying that you would say nothing incriminating before turning to face Benedict. He looked confused, glancing from Granville's face to yours, before reiterating, “What jealousy, Granville?” “Merely of other artists. I’m sure you know it too.” He recovered, taking another drink before gesturing to the table, “Care to join us?” Benedict sat in the chair closest to you, and you shot Granville a look of pure spite. In your drunken haze, everything seemed too much. His voice was too smooth, his smile too large, and the way he draped an arm across your chair, caging you in, was entirely too casual. You promised to whatever God was listening that you would slaughter Granville for this. “Of course I do. You know better than anyone.” He agreed, sliding easily into the conversation. You remained silent, not trusting yourself in your inebriation to respond beyond a simple hum of agreement or a grunt of displeasure. If you allowed yourself to speak freely, no doubt you would be weeping in Benedict's arms like a little girl within minutes. “What do you think?” You started, retreating from your thoughts to find both Benedict and Granville looking at you. Benedict’s eyes shone with thinly veiled concern, tilting his head and gently shaking you by the shoulder, while Granville simply smiled in amusement. “I..was lost in thought. My apologies.” You said quickly, waving Benedict’s hands away and sitting up completely. You were drunker than you thought, and briefly you wondered if you would even be able to make it to your carriage without help. You figured if you couldn’t, you would force Granville to escort you. He certainly owed you, after pulling this little stunt. “You’re wasted. Perhaps you should head home.” Benedict said gently. You huffed, shaking your head. “Don’t concern yourself with me, I can take care of myself. Now. My opinion on what, exactly?” “Valentines,” Granville supplied, glancing into his empty cup, “we were talking about all the effort that goes into such cards and letters. Artistry, in a way. What do you think of it?” “I find the holiday wholly unnecessary. And it takes far too much time to make such delicate things. A canvas is much more secure.” you huffed. Benedict stiffened beside you, although in your semi-consciousness, you barely noticed, your eyes fluttering between shut and open. “So you wouldn’t make any?” Benedict asked. “No.” “Would you receive them?” “I suppose it would be rude to deny such labors of love. But I have never received one, and I doubt I will this year. Ladies don’t send cards to men like me.” you shrugged, drooping over the table. The longer you sat, the harder it was to hold yourself up. If you passed out, it would be a good escape from such intimate topics with Benedict, so you allowed yourself to slump on the table, sighing. “Alright, that's enough. I’ll help you home.” Benedict declared, standing up and taking you by the arm, heaving you up. You groaned in protest, but didn’t fight as he slung your arm over his shoulder and half dragged you away from the table, Granville following behind. “Apologies, Bridgerton. Next time I won’t allow him to indulge quite so much. You may end up getting more than 10 minutes with him that way.” He said cheerily. “I’m sober enough to know when I’m being mocked, Granville.” you opened your bleary eyes to glare at him, finding his eyes twinkling with amusement. He patted your shoulder. “It’s no trouble. I was about to head home, anyway.” Is all Benedict said as he helped you into the carriage, climbing in after you and seating himself on the same bench. Granville waved you both off as Benedict rapped his knuckles on the carriage, directing your footman to take you home. “Now you have me alone and vulnerable. Not very gentlemanly of you, Bridgerton. What would the ton think?” you teased, leaning lazily against the side of the carriage, away from him. You hoped it was subtle, that he thought you were just drunk and loose and tired. You couldn’t bear the thought of him finding out just how weak you were for him. Then he would leave, and you would be crushed. “They would think nothing, because we’re men.” He pointed out, leaning closer to you. You hummed, acknowledging his words, but didn’t reply beyond that. It was only then that you realized how precarious a situation you were in. Drunk, alone, with a man you loved, who seemed to be moving closer and closer by the minute, although maybe you were imagining that part. Anything was possible when you were this drunk. “They would be wrong, though.” Benedict finished softly. He reached over, brushing his fingers along your jaw, moving downward to loosen your cravat. You sighed, tilting your head back to allow him easier access, cursing yourself but unable to shove him away. You were such a fool. “Are you planning something?” You asked. He finally managed to pull your cravat away, revealing your neck to him. He laughed at your question. “With you this drunk? No. I only wanted you to be more comfortable.” He tossed the cloth onto the other bench, leaning safely away from you to stare out the window after. While you were partly disappointed, you were mostly relieved. You wouldn’t have been able to resist, and only would have brought yourself more shame and confusion in regards to him. But Benedict was a good man, and he would never take advantage of you in your current state. Your heart squeezed. Too good of a man. “I’m sorry to be such a burden tonight.” you blurted suddenly. Benedict looked at you, his head whipping away from the window so quickly it almost made you dizzy. “I shouldn’t have drank so much. It was foolish.” “You’re never a burden to me.” He said, his voice soft and indignant, almost as if he was offended by the mere idea that you had inconvenienced him. “You shouldn’t have to chaperone me home like a weak debutante.” “I’d rather you than a debutante. Trust me.” You chuckled, shaking your head and glancing out the carriage window. You could see the square, and your home, fast approaching. It appeared as though your time with Benedict was over for tonight. Relieved and downtrodden, you sat up and attempted to right your swirling vision as the carriage came to a stop. Benedict stood, helping you up and out of the carriage. After explaining the situation to your housekeeper, he hauled you all the way into your home and bedroom, even being kind enough to help you out of your boots as you lay back in your bed, arm over your eyes, trying to stop the room from spinning. “I’ll be going, then.” He said quietly, standing up and brushing his hands together. You lifted your arm, making certain you weren’t going to puke before crooking one finger, beckoning him closer. “Come here.” You breathed. He obeyed, moving dutifully to your side, remaining silent despite the question in his eyes. You sat up slowly, ignoring your dizziness. Placing a hand on the back of his neck, you pulled him closer. Benedict, realizing what you were after, leaned down and forward, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. You flopped back into your bed after he pulled away, grinning, although you couldn’t see it, having already rolled over and buried your face in the covers. “Goodnight. I hope you enjoy tomorrow.” He said ominously, the clicking of his heels against the marble floor the only indication you had that he had left. Before you could even think of the meaning of his strange farewell, you were dragged into rest. -- The first thing you registered after waking was the pounding behind your eyes. Moaning in pain, you lifted your arm over your face, blocking out the light that your butler had let in through the curtains. “My apologies, My Lord. Should we have a cure made?” He asked politely, noticing your haggard state. “Quickly.” You begged. He nodded, bowing before swiftly leaving the room to procure you a bit of relief. Sitting up, you turned away from the windows completely, opting to try and find your balance. After a moment, you were able to make your way to your wardrobe, pulling on your breeches and doublet. Today you had no need to dress formally. Valentines was a day you dedicated to staying completely shuttered away from the rest of the ton, tending to your estate and business ventures. It was easier than being bombarded with reminders of love, and much easier than running into any Bridgerton, although one, of course, you wanted to avoid above all else. It would only pain you to see him giving or receiving such intimate letters, especially with the women of the ton. Once your butler had delivered your cure, and you had thrown down the slimy, disgusting mixture, you were feeling much improved. You made your way to your study, smiling at your maids as they bowed before rushing off, no doubt in a hurry to finish their work and make off with their sweethearts for the day. You felt a twinge of jealousy, smiling sadly as you opened the door to your study. Oh. In your study sat piles and piles of cards, all handmade, some gilded with gold while others were trimmed with lace. You picked one up, in awe at its intricate gold-foil flowers, embossed on the front and lined with sharp swirls and embellishments, all clearly hand done with a calligraphy pen. You opened the card. The script inside was as lovely as the rest of the card, although it was the words that brought tears to your eyes. I sit and I look into your face And I see those before us, Who have loved as we do, And I see those after, And I pray that our impossibility Will become their reality. Yours. You choked on a sob, quickly closing the card and setting it down. The last thing you wanted was to ruin something so perfect with tears. It was not signed, and it didn’t have to be for you to know. Benedict. You looked around the room. There were at least 3 large piles of cards, enough to last an entire year, all handmade and intricate. You wondered how long this had taken him. It would take you days just to read them all. Surely, your servants thought you were either the biggest rake in the ton, with all these notes. You couldn’t care less. You gathered them all, handling them as gently as you would glass, slipping them into your desk cabinet and locking it. They were yours, no one else's. Benedict's words were just for you. Dazed, you leaned back into your office chair, holding the first card, running your fingers over the edges and rereading the lines over and over. It wasn't quite a poem, nor a letter, but a sentiment. A dream, a wish. You would be lying if you said that it wasn’t your dream too. A future where love like yours would be special, not sinful. Love. You jolted. And then laughed. How could you ever have doubted him? Surely, it was only love that would drive him to do this. Only love that would have him escort you home, make sure you were safe and comfortable. That would make him sit for what must have been weeks, if not months, working tirelessly on card after card just to take advantage of the one day where letters between unmarried men and women could be sent freely. Of course, he did so for a cover. But was that not also love? He wanted to protect you from ire, from harm, and so he delivered all the letters he felt he couldn’t today, just to keep from drawing unwanted eyes. Crying and laughing all at once, you pressed the note to your chest. How had you doubted his love for a second? His devotion? You truly were a fool, although not in the way you had expected. It took you half an hour to calm yourself, and by that time, your headache was back and worse than before, thanks to your emotional outburst. But another thing was back, too. Your butler, standing in the doorway with an impassive look on his face, glancing about the room, no doubt looking for the heaps of cards the servants had dropped off. “Do you know what card came from which maiden?” You asked, holding up the first card. It was the only card you had yet to put away, and though you were loathe to show it to him, you thought you should make it try and seem as though you had no idea who they had come from. “The cards were delivered mysteriously early this morning, My Lord. No names, no signatures.” “I see. Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter. None of them will be receiving a response.” You laughed, setting the card down. “What is it?” “A visitor, sir. The Second Bridgerton. Says he has something to discuss with you, about Lord Granville's gathering last night.” Your heart stuttered. “Send him up. No doubt he wants me to apologize for making such an ass of myself last night.” You joked, and he smiled back, giving a quick nod before rushing off to fetch Benedict. You quickly tucked the last letter into your desk drawer, pulling out a decanter of whiskey and pouring yourself a small glass. “No better cure for a hangover than more drink, right?” Benedict stepped into your study, shutting the door behind him even as he teased you. You laughed, pouring him a glass as well. He took it gratefully, sitting down in the chair across from yours, the desk between you two. “You may mock me if you wish, Benedict, but I am feeling positively delightful.” you said dramatically, lifting your cup in cheers. Benedict touched his glass to yours, and you took a sip. He did not. “Would that have anything to do with any deliveries?” He questioned, a secretive smile spreading across his face. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” “That’s why I asked.” You snorted, shaking your head quickly. “It would, if you must know.” Dropping all pretenses, he leaned forward, smiling even brighter now. “So you’ve got them. Do you like them?” “Of course I do,” you breathed, leaning in as well, dropping your voice to a whisper, “how long did they take you? They’re beautiful. True artistry.” “Much too long, as you said last night. But they were worth it, if you like them.” You nodded once. Smiling, he brought one hand to rest on your desk, palm up and spread open. You took it, intertwining your fingers. “Do you truly...love me? In that way?” you asked nervously, avoiding his gaze in favor of staring at your two hands. “No, I spent hours of my precious time making hand crafted love letters for a man I consider a friend.” He rolled his eyes. “If anyone would do such a thing, it would be you, Benedict.” “Certainly not. It would be Colin.” You laughed, and he grinned. Standing, he quickly rounded your desk and pulled you up by your still connected hands, pulling you against him and kissing you firmly. It was sudden, but not unpleasant, and you wrapped your arms around him, carding your fingers through his hair before resting your hands on the nape of his neck. After a long moment, he pulled away, eyes shining mischievously. “I do love you.” “And I you.” you said quickly, desperate to reciprocate. You had spent so long convinced that Benedict only saw you as good fun, that the revelation of love had left you reeling. But you would be damned if you passed up this opportunity to tell him of the affections you had kept secret since your first meeting. In response, he kissed your jaw once before pulling away, still smirking. “But you taste of garlic and egg. You truly should not have indulged so much. Now I can’t kiss you.” Groaning, you turned away from him, clamping your lips shut even as he wraps his arms around your middle, pressing kisses to your neck and cheek lovingly, cooing affections like a lovesick fool. You smiled at that passing thought, leaning into Benedict and returning his whispers in kind, leading him with purpose to your bed chamber. Perhaps you were both lovesick fools. You could live with that.

[bellmel]

Reading you, before the fall

An angsty contribution to @clarensjoy’s Hinny Ficfest 2021 (A huge thank you, by the way - seeing my feed flooded by new Hinny fics today has been truly amazing. I’m so glad you arranged this!)

Prompt #40 - “I love you.” “Why do you look like you’re confessing a sin?” “I might as well be.”

AO3

---

There were several things Ginny Weasley could do with her eyes closed. She could cruise along on her broom, guided by nothing more than instinct and her finely-tuned spatial awareness. She could navigate the staircase of the Burrow in absolute darkness. She could tell which of her brothers was walking up behind her just by the distinctive thud and pace of their footsteps. 

And with her eyes closed, she could read Harry Potter. 

Harry had always been a fairly easy study. He had never been particularly good at hiding his emotions – his temper and brazen manner left little room for uncertainty. But in these past three weeks that they had shared together, Ginny had learnt to look beyond what was plainly visible, turning her attention instead to the subtlest of his quirks and mannerisms. And when she was pressed up against him with her eyes closed, her other senses truly awoke, picking up on the unspoken and the unseen. 

The sound of his voice, steady with confidence, or stilted and hushed with an almost vulnerable uncertainty, betrayed more about him in those moments than his words ever could. The way his breath hitched just so each time she leant into his lips, as if he could never tire of kissing her. The way he sighed when their fevered kissing would ease and Ginny would tip her head, resting her forehead on his chest – it was a soft and shaky sound, a sigh born from an odd blend of contentment and something like trepidation. They were sounds that she felt as much as heard, each one filling her like a warm rush of blood that pulsed through her body, settling and expanding in her chest. 

But while the sound of him was like a well-studied soundtrack, it was her hands and fingers that had learnt to read Harry Potter with expert certainty. She could read his mood and anxieties according to the tension in his muscles and the stiffness of his limbs, the way his body responded to her touch, and the fluidity of his movements against hers. 

She would trail her fingers over his arm, his torso, his cheeks. Dancing a familiar path across his body, her feather-light touch would skim over his skin with the practiced confidence of a blind person reading braille, the twitch of his muscles and his goosebumps telling her a story of grief, longing, regret and fear. 

And like many a narrative of love and loss, her reading of Harry had been hinting at a turning point in the days since Dumbledore’s death. The signs, albeit subtle, were all there. They left a trail of crumbs that she couldn’t bring herself to follow.

It put her even more on edge, nervous anticipation having settled heavily in her stomach. She had no way of knowing if it was the next scene, the next page, the next chapter when the twist that they were so clearly moving towards would drop. And in a way, she figured it didn’t matter. What was to come had already been written, and nothing she did now would change it. She didn’t believe it was fate, more an inevitability.

But Ginny’s mind was firmly focused elsewhere on this early morning in June. Harry’s hands had that ability, an unconscious way of commanding her attention. Even the stones of the tall castle wall jutting into her back were just a distant annoyance, drowned out by the feel of Harry leaning into her, his hands gripping her hips and waist.

He was quiet this morning. Both of them had woken early, sleep proving somewhat elusive these days. They were the first ones in the common room, but they hadn’t lingered long, instead escaping out onto the castle grounds before the other students were due to start trickling into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Outside, the grounds were sleepy and calm, the early rising sun having done little to budge the thick fog that had settled over the lake. It was fitting in a way, the grounds of Hogwarts as unclear as everything else inside the castle.

With little interest in talking, Harry had led Ginny to a partially hidden alcove around the side of the castle, and immediately started kissing her. It was frenzied to begin with, Harry clearly chasing a distraction through her, but she didn’t care. They stayed there, engrossed in each other, until Harry’s lips and body became less frantic, and his kisses and touch eased to a slow and tender pace.

After several minutes, Ginny pulled away just enough to catch her breath. “Harry,” she exhaled. It was still and quiet all around them, and Harry’s heavy breaths next to her ear filled the void.

From inside came the first distant sounds of students moving about in the castle, muffled laughter and shouts as they made their way down the staircase to the Great Hall.

Harry looked down at Ginny, realisation etched on his face as if he had only just remembered where they were. “Oh, do you-” he started, straightening up. “Sorry. You probably want to go get some breakfast.”

Ginny shook her head. “No. I’m not really hungry.” She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him. “Besides, I’d rather stay here with you.”

She expected him to protest and insist she go in and eat before their classes begin. But he simply nodded in agreement, and bent down to kiss the top of her head.

She wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down further to place a kiss on his nose, his lips, and his stubbly chin. He responded by cupping her face in his hands, his thumb caressing her cheek.

“Ginny,” he sighed. With eyes shut tight, he pressed his forehead to hers and let out a long shaky breath. And then, in a moment that would reverberate through both her dreams and her nightmares, came those words. “I love you, Ginny.”

It was softer than a whisper, an utterance that could be felt more than heard.

She had heard those words her whole life, sometimes said as a reassurance or as a farewell, or through the gritted teeth of a chastised sibling. But never before had she heard those words said like this. It wasn’t a declaration or a promise, it was something else entirely.

Ginny looked up at him, at his creased brow and pursed lips, and her breath caught in her throat. His face was streaked with pain and remorse.

Her voice quivered, the hint of a nervous laugh. “Why do you look like you’re confessing a sin?” she asked, silently willing him to prove her wrong.

Instead, he opened his eyes and looked regretfully into hers. “I might as well be.”

And it was this exact moment that Ginny realised the suspicion she had been pushing against so desperately these past few days was no longer simply a suspicion. Harry’s admission told her everything she needed to know.

The regret she saw in his eyes wasn’t for his words, but for all that they meant.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the knowledge from her mind, desperately trying to tamper the howling agony that was ringing in her ears. Placing her palms flat against his chest, she braced herself and exhaled slowly, forcing her heart rate to ease, attempting to take her time over every detail. Hoping against all reason that she could slow things down, delay the ending, just for a little longer.

And with the clarity of hindsight, she realised he had been doing the same. Ever since his mentor had died, Harry had been trapped in a restless cycle of indecision. He would tense under her touch, only to relent a moment later and melt into her. He was pulling away from her at the same time as he clung to her, like a drowning man grasping at the one thing that could keep him afloat.

Leaning back to look up at him, she ran her hands up his arms, her fingers skating over his shoulders, his collarbone, and coming to rest on his chest. His eyes remained fixed on hers, as if he too was trying to etch this moment into his memory, before his arms tightened around her, and he dragged her in closer. Ginny leant into it, allowing Harry to keep her braced. She should have felt nothing but safe, comfortable and certain, being here with him. But all she felt was the shudder and tremble of his still-grieving body wrapped around hers, and there was no comfort to be found in that.

Her heart ached for him. For the boy who had far too little choice afforded to him, and far too much expectation placed on him. For the boy who had experienced so much already, but wasn’t yet done. For the boy who seemed to have finally found happiness, and was now trying to find the resolve to turn his back on it. Because yet again, it was up to Harry to do what was necessary.

You do it, a voice whispered in her head. You can break it off. Her eyes shot open, mind whirling with realisation. This was the one thing she could do for him, the one responsibility she could lift from his overburdened shoulders and carry herself.

She looked up at him. His head was bent forward, eyes fixed to where her small hands were pressed against his chest. And Ginny knew she couldn’t. She would never be the one to walk away.

She couldn’t look him in the eye, a boy who had known so much rejection and such little love in his life, and tell him it was over. Even if she knew it was the right thing to do.

Even if she knew what the alternative would mean for Harry.

Because while Harry was the protagonist of his story, turning his back on Ginny would make him feel like the villain. For as noble as he was, as selfless and kind as he was, he was still a boy who was terrified of letting anyone down.

If she was honest with herself though, she would have to admit that her reluctance was driven in part by a tiny but insistent piece of her that wondered if maybe she had read this wrong. That feared acting on something that perhaps wasn’t inevitable. Even though the rational part of her knew better.

Coward, the voice in her head reproached. And she agreed.

Taking a deep breath, she drew up her shoulders and steadied her resolve. If she couldn’t be the one to ring the death knell on their relationship, she could stand aside and let him do it. She would watch him walk away from her, and she wouldn’t try to stop him.

But until then, she would be here with him, savouring him.

With steady hands, Ginny pulled Harry down towards her and captured his lips with hers. She wanted him to know that she understood. That she didn’t blame him. That she didn’t regret him.

But she had no words. She didn’t even know if the right words existed. Instead, she poured it into her kiss and her touch. Let her lips, her tongue, her mouth say the things her voice couldn’t. I’m sorry, her kiss said. I forgive you.  

I love you.

[stonefreeak]

I am so sorry this has taken me so long. I can’t believe i missed updating in February entirely! Work is busy, and I have moved and am trying to get everything in my apartment put together and it’s just A Lot right now. But I will work hard to not forget to update again!

Shaak Ti walks through the halls of Kamino, projecting the sort of calm she knows she's become known for over the years. In times of upheaval, anxiety, and unrest, being a source of calm and peace is helpful not just for yourself but also to the people around you. She's long since learned to keep a tight leash on her emotional responses.

It's not that she doesn't feel, to suggest such a thing would be ridiculous—she's hardly had the emotional centres of her brain damaged or removed after all—she's merely cautious with how she lets herself express it. If she becomes agitated, if she lashes out, she risks bleeding her own agitation into the Force and affecting other people and beings around her, stoking their agitation. Not to mention that she risks entering a feedback loop with the Force, where she projects her emotions into it, and it sends those emotions back to her causing a spiral into ever deepening loss of emotional control.

As a Force Sensitive being, allowing your emotions to get the better of you means you risk losing control of yourself entirely. Usually that means that people get hurt, and Shaak Ti has no interest in people coming to harm.

She locks her emotions down, catalogues them, acknowledges them, and leaves them for meditation later when she's alone and has the time to properly dissect what she's feeling and why she's feeling it.

A side effect of this is that she has an amazing poker face—none of her fellow council members will play Correllian poker with her anymore—and as she tries to investigate the supposed chips inside the troopers' brains, it more than serves her well.

The people of Kamino have very limited emotional reflection in the Force, it seems to be an inherent trait of their species. That they're also so foreign to her that she still cannot accurately gauge their emotions from their facial expressions—limited as they are—means that she's always in a precarious situation when she speaks with them on sensitive matters. Being able to tell if they're deliberately hiding something from her or if they simply don't know is more than a little bit difficult.

But if Master Kenobi is correct, then they are deliberately hiding something from them all. Something that Former Chancellor Palpatine likely knows about, was told about, but which they haven't shared with Master Kenobi despite him being the new Chancellor.

She doesn't like the sound of that, the idea that they wouldn't speak about it with any Supreme Chancellor, but rather only Palpatine. It gives her a bad feeling, and she wonders if, perhaps, the Former Chancellor is corrupt in a way they have yet to discover? She's been told by the rest of the Council that he's been found guilty of some milder charges—as far as any corruption charges are mild—but perhaps there's more to the whole thing. Perhaps there are things that the investigation couldn't find, because all evidence of it existed only in Kamino's data systems, far beyond the reach of the investigative team.

When Master Kenobi had first brought it up, she had agreed despite her own scepticism—she is not one for dismissing possible dangers off-hand, after all. With how things have developed... Well, she's starting to believe that he was on to something, even though her own research so far has not yielded much results.

Of course she realises that if the Kaminoans wish to hide these chips from them, her access codes would not give her access to anything that is related to the chips. But she had to look into it through official and open—to her—channels first. There is no good reason to treat people as untrustworthy criminals when you have not even the smallest bit of proof that they are that. She had originally planned to simply ask the Kaminoans about the chips, but once she was about to, a sudden feeling of unease swept over her, and she held her tongue.

But her general research has failed, and now she's facing a very difficult choice: either she asks the Kaminoans directly regarding the chips thus tipping them off to the fact that she knows about their existence in the first place, thus risking them looking more closely at her actions following said discussion, or she tries to conduct covert and far from legal entrance into their systems before she so much as ask them about it.

She pauses and realises that she's made an error in judgement. While it's true that the Kaminoans would keep a closer eye on her if she were to bring any of her concerns up to them... They are unlikely to believe she would trust any trooper.

Of course, if the chips exist at all, then the problem comes in the form of what the chips do. She has never sensed any sort of duplicity or danger from any of the clones she's ever trained or interacted with. They are good and loyal men, men who deserve more life than what the Republic is willing to give them due to their status as clones, so she does not fear trusting them.

The question is... Who should she ask?

There is sure to be capable and subtle troopers among those stationed here. All her men are capable of course, though not all of them are subtle.

She needs to find a trooper who can be trusted to work covertly, but also without being detected. They also need to be without pride, because if they get caught, they need to allow her to run interference in any way she can, and trust her to be doing so for their sake.

Perhaps she should lay a false trail, express worry about information leaks, and ask the Kaminoans regarding their security. Vaguely, not pressing for any details of course. However, just as with doing any clandestine breaking and entering the secure data centres of Kamino herself, she is too noticeable a figure. She cannot blend in or hide herself away, and if she asks too many questions, she risks making them suspicious.

If the Kaminoans are hiding something from the Jedi and the Chancellor—possible because the new chancellor is a Jedi—then she cannot tip them off to the fact that they are suspicious. That they are trying to investigate.

She would like to walk into this potential fire first, ahead of her men, as the Jedi do... But in this particular instance, she is quite certain that her presence at the metaphorical front would do more harm than good. She will need to send a trooper in her stead, and put her hope in their skills and strength.

She'll look into it, there are sure to be some who stand out as appropriate choices. Some who will be willing to help her with her covert mission. The clones have no love for the Kaminoans, as far as she knows, even though they seem to consider Kamino their home world. As far as she's been able to ascertain, their loyalty is with the Jedi and the Republic—even though the Republic has never given them anything, and the Jedi has never been able to give them anything except a clear command structure and the occasional meditation help and teachings about the Force.

Perhaps once this war is over, the clone troopers who still live can finally be given personhood and a place to live and stay. Perhaps when they're all finally free from this terrible war, her men can be allowed to flourish in any which way they want.

Not just on the battlefield.

For now she'll speak with the Council again. She cannot tell them openly, just in case the Kaminoans keep some sort of watch on their communication channels, set up to trigger on specific keywords. If they do, then they may already know that she is looking, so all the more important to not let them know any of what she's planning. But while she cannot speak plainly, she can speak in the kind of code that will have the Council send out a fleet to Kamino under some sort of pretence, and through that, she can send back a coded flimsi message containing any and all information she's found until then. Whichever trooper she finds for this mission will have to go with the fleet, and perhaps that will be the safest way for them all.

The Council will be able to request the trooper's aid far away from Kamino and the Kaminoans, and without any risk of them overhearing it. The Temple, at least, is safe enough that jammers alone will keep the information safe.

If she were to use any here, it would most likely make anyone looking to overhear her conversations suspicious.

The last thing they want is anyone trying to hide away the evidence.

They cannot afford any mistakes. It's too dangerous for that.

She lowers herself to her knees and places her hands gently in her lap, focusing on her breathing as she wraps the Force around her.

She will meditate on her next step before she makes any move at all. It wouldn't do to move too quickly and make a mistake.

—

(Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi masterpost)