#just for like the upper management to do the absolute least and not even the bare minimum

[yeah-thats-probably-it]

Hot take maybe but I think Bertie would be FAR more likely to survive the first two months of Dracula than Jeeves would be. Bertie has a healthy sense of self-preservation. Jeeves consistently underestimates how dangerous a situation might get (Steeple Bumpleigh, the club book) because he’s overconfident about his level of control over any given situation. He'd handle Dracula masterfully if they faced off in England, but on Dracula's home turf? Much more doubtful.

I realize this might be a tough sell, so I will explain further (or it's not a tough sell, and I'm going to explain further because I want to). (criteria taken from @canyourfavesurvivecastledracula) Without further ado.

Would Jeeves and Wooster survive Castle Dracula?

Jeeves

Jeeves' survival will depend on how long Dracula finds him more entertaining than irritating. On that basis, I don't think he's long for this world. On the one hand, he has a huge wealth of knowledge about English society and culture that he can recite perfectly from memory. That should buy him at least a little time with noted teaboo Dracula.

On the other hand, he would be absolutely no fun as a vampire plaything. Jeeves cannot be got. Sneaking up on him while he's shaving will yield zero reaction (though that's at least good for his short-term survival--given that, although he DID take the crucifix from the old woman out of politeness, he certainly isn't going to wear it. The rules of fashion don't go out the window just because you're in a spooky castle). Then, although managing the whims of rich jerks is not an insignificant part of a valet's job, Jeeves usually does this by bending his employers to his will. Dracula is not the sort of employer this will work on. It'll just add insult to injury when on top of being impossible to scare, NOW Jeeves is telling Dracula that his favorite cloak is several centuries out of fashion and he's not allowed to wear it anymore.

Jeeves will 100% go exploring in the areas he was told not to go-- though to be fair, he MIGHT actually get away with this, what with his superpower of appearing in rooms without being seen or heard. Said superpower might save him from the brides as well (though this is by no means guaranteed). Since I find it doubtful that Dracula would come to rescue his annoying ass, not being noticed is his best defense.

There are a couple other things working in Jeeves's favor; the question is just whether they'll be enough to save him.

He DOES know shorthand, and could try to send coded letters. He might even have the foresight to squirrel away some extra stationary where Dracula can't find it. But could he get them posted? Would it even do him any good?

He certainly has enough cultural literacy to figure out what his new boss is pretty quickly. If he didn't chuck the crucifix out the carriage window, he might start carrying it around in his pocket.

Psychology of the individual, sure, but the individual in question is a 400-year-old vampire who lives in an isolated castle in a foreign country and is regarded as a terrifying mythological figure in the surrounding villages. Jeeves has never come up against anything this alien before, he's cut off from his normal resources, and opportunities to play people against each other are limited.

He probably has enough upper body strength from all that shrimping and fishing to climb the wall, so he COULD escape if he wanted to, if he survived long enough. It's just, again, that overconfidence, and also Dracula has a vast library full of rare old books that are entirely at his disposal. He's keeping his eyes and ears alert for potential escape strategies, of course, but I don't see him being as desperate to get out as Jonathan was.

There are just a lot of "depends on"s here, and I'm not convinced that luck would shake out in Jeeves's favor, all things considered.

Bertie

Bertie is so perfect for the job of Castle Dracula Prisoner it's like it was made for him. Think about it. Being held against his will in big manor houses comes more naturally to him than breathing. He's afraid of things that are scary. A lifetime of dealing with Aunt Agatha has made him the world's preeminent expert in "curl[ing] up in a ball in the hope that a meek subservience [will] enable [him] to get off lightly." He will NEVER go exploring in places he's been warned away from if nobody is forcing him to (Rev. Aubrey Upjohn's office notwithstanding. There were biscuits in there). He's both fun to talk to and easy to toy with (and extremely English). A+ prisoner. Dracula adores him.

In my opinion, Bertie is at Castle Dracula either because Aunt Agatha got some wires seriously crossed and thinks he’s going to meet an eligible potential bride (I mean, there are certainly brides there), or because Dracula has something Aunt Dahlia wants him to steal (far less likely, given that one of Dracula’s THINGS is famously not owning anything silver). Either way, he's shown himself entirely willing and able to escape down drainpipes if a sitch gets too scaly.

He DOES take the crucifix, and DOES wear it (which is what will save him during the shaving scene, because you KNOW he's going to jump a foot and cut himself like the dickens). He's read enough supernatural goosefleshers to be genre savvy about terrified old women cryptically pushing crucifixes into one's hands. I also think his sunny disposish endeared him to the villagers, and they were particularly vehement about urging him not to go. He doesn't speak German or Romanian, but he's empathetic enough to recognize Pure Terror. So by the time he actually gets to the castle, his imagination is already running wild and he's plenty aware that he is in imminent danger.

I think the biggest risk to Bertie will be the brides; whether or not he's susceptible to trances, if he thinks they're trying to marry him, it's against the code of the Woosters to turn them down. But that only becomes an issue if he comes face to face with them, which, luckily, I think is unlikely on account of the aforementioned "won't go exploring" (and if he did, Dracula would definitely rescue him).

I'm inclined to say due to his drainpipe-escape habits that he WOULD be able to climb the wall and MAY attempt to sneak into Dracula's room to look for the keys if his desperation grows to outweigh his fear. Whether he does or not, though, he does NOT have the stomach to attempt shovel murder, and therefore won't get magic brain fever, and may very well simply walk out the front doors when the people come to take the boxes away. OR he climbs his way out like Jonathan did. Either way.

When Bertie tells this story at the Drones later, Tuppy will say that no doubt it's been greatly exaggerated and all that probably happened was that he spent a couple months in an oldish house entertaining a weird loner.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Getting pinned against a wall by kny men

Pairings: Akaza x fem!reader; Gyomei x fem!reader; Rengoku x fem!reader; Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: no smut but it's getting heated, TENSION you guys, not proofread bc I really need to go to sleep lol

Let me know what you thiiiink

Akaza

There you sit. Uncomfortably with your knees resting against the cold hard floor, watched by countless of demons that buzz around you like a school of fish.

“Can I go home now?”

Your eyes dart towards the one who captured you earlier, the guy who managed to force you into unconsciousness with one well-placed blow. Why you’re still alive? You have absolutely no idea.

After all, things are pretty clear: You are a hashira. And that guy standing in front of you is none other than the upper moon three.

“You’re not going anywhere”, he remarks dryly, his hand resting against his hip while looking downwards.

“Why didn’t you eat me?”

“You’re not my taste”, the unknown man bites back.

“Ouch.”

Is there a way out of here? You scan each and every corridor, every way that might help you out of this trap. What is this place, even? With those countless open rooms and literal buildings that float through the air like balloons, you’re definitely not close to your estate anymore.

You lift yourself off the ground and stretch your limbs.

“I can’t sit here like that for any longer without feeling like a granny”, you groan along with stretching your back.

The second you take one step towards the ground, you feel his rough grasp on your wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing, brat?”

“Just checking if I’d survive jumping down there”, you give back.

“You’d be dead before you hit the ground.”

“What a pity”, you mutter.

“What an idiot”, Akaza mumbles under his breath.

When he was assigned to bring you here, he thought you’d be just like the rest: trembling in fear, begging for mercy, fighting until you eventually die a heroic death.

But you did neither of those things. You didn’t even ask him who he is, let alone where you are. You just sat there in silence with your orbs wandering around infinity castle filled with nothing but curiosity.

“What’s even your name?”

He wants to curse himself, his stupid tongue for acting faster than his mind was able to stop. Muzan never mentioned your name before. Who is that strange girl with those innocent eyes and calm temper?

“You’re asking me for my name after kidnapping me? A little too late, don’t you think?”

Your bored expression almost sends him over the edge.

“Are you actually too stupid to realize what position you’re in?”, he hisses, the grip around your wrist tightening with every passing minute.

“You might be the upper moon three, but you’re not a threat for me. I won’t tell you my name.”

With a shrug of your shoulders, you yank your hand out of his grasp and continue walking towards the end of the platform.

Did he…just hear that correctly? Him not being a threat for you, you not willing to tell him your name?

But he needs it. Fuck, he needs to know who the hell you are, he needs to know you better, needs to find out why you’re acting this way and how you caught Muzan Kibutsuji’s interest. The first human being that ever grasped his attention, the first hashira he encountered with an attitude like that.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Faster than your mind is able to process, you find yourself pinned against a wall with vibrant yellow pupils staring at you intensely.

For a moment, you forget how to breathe. Of course, you realized how well-build this demon is right from the start, that his face is remarkably beautiful for the fact that he’s a monster, but seeing him up close…

“That’s a rather unexpected position”, you breathe out.

“Tell me your fucking name.”

“Tell me yours, first”, you demand playfully.

“I mean, that’s the least you can do after pinning me against a wall like you’re my lover.”

“A lover?”

You watch in sheer amusement how his eyes widen in utter surprise, how his mind starts visibly thinking through your words. But within the split of a second, he grabs your neck roughly and prevents you from getting the air you need.

“Sorry, I did mean to upset you”, you choke out, hands instantly grabbing his in order to free yourself.

“I should kill you right on the spot”, he spits into your face.

Why the hell do your eyes have to look so damn captivating in that light? And why does the heat radiating from your body make his head feel dizzy, lets his mind wander to places they’ve never been before? Your much smaller frame pressed against his, his hand resting on your neck…Is he going insane?

“My name’s (y/n).”

(y/n). A truly fitting name for someone like you, the sound of it never reached his ear until now.

(y/n).

“Akaza”, he mumbles out of instinct.

“Nice to meet you, Akaza.”

You can feel the pressure around your neck decreasing, now gasping for air like a fish on land. But he doesn’t remove his hand. No, the demon in front of you stares at you with eyes so intensely that you feel like blushing any given minute. Would it hurt to lean forward just an inch, to catch a taste of him? If Rengoku could see you right now, lying in the arms of a demon while every single hashira is probably out there searching for you, he'd definitely wash your head properly.

But you couldn’t care less. Not about the fact that you are in danger, not about your former master being worried about you, not about the circumstance that this force of a man is a damn strong demon who could kill you within the blink of an eye.

“Feeling that sexual heat as well? Because I definitely do”, you comment into the silence.

Another hit that wipes that cheeky grin of your face and sends you into sweet nothingness.

“Sexual heat…”

Gently, Akaza lifts you up inside his arms and stares at your resting face.

“You’ve got some nerve.”

Gyomei Himejima

“I’m on your right!”, you shout over the sensation of chaos, screams and death while dashing forwards.

Again and again, without questioning what you’re doing for a single second. Since the day you joined the demon slayer corps, it has always been this way. Fighting until you physically can’t anymore, standing up for people who don’t even know you.

You glance at the man to your left, watch how skillfully he makes his way through the crowds without hurting anyone except demons.

Fighting on Gyomei’s side, to be exact.

Countless nights, you imagined what a relationship with him might look like. Why does a man like him not have a partner already? Him, who is so gentle and assertive at the same time. Him, who cares about others more than about himself. Him, with that massive and well-trained frame, his oh so captivating face.

It’s no wonder you fell in love with him after spending your time right by his side. There’s no need to feel ashamed about your constant daydreaming and secret looks, right?

“(y/n), watch out!”

Your heart drops to the floor, eyes widen in sheer horror. What is this thing darting towards you at neck-breaking speed? A ray of lighting, a blade, a bullet? Too fast for you to even react, aiming straight for your head.

Is this the end?

Your body starts feeling light, adrenaline rushing through your veins a few seconds too late. No, you won’t be able to make it. You’ll die right here on the spot.

Gyomei…you should have told him everything. From your constant dreams to your well-hidden feelings. Even though he might not feel the same way, you’ll take this secret to the grave.

Without seeing his face one last time.

“(y/n), are you alright?”

Your eyes rest shut, preparing for the hit that can’t be escaped.

“(y/n), please say something.”

You furrow your eyebrows. Are you imagining that oh so familiar voice again?

“Look at me.”

You force your eyes open.

And stare directly in that so known face.

“Gyomei”, you breathe out.

“Are you alright? Were you hurt?”

His hands are all over the place, scanning your body for potential injuries. That’s when you realize how close he is.

So close that his large frame pins you against a tree completely, to be exact.

“I..Uh, I’m a-alright”, you press out.

His earthy but still fresh scent darts up your nose, makes you forget the stinging smell of blood and burnt flesh around you. No, there’s only you and him. You, resting between his strong arms. Him, who bends his head down to meet your level, single droplets of sweat now covering his forehead.

“Are you sure? That attack was directed directly against you”, he continues while furrowing his eyebrows.

“And you do feel hot”, he adds.

Maybe you’re hot because you’ve never been this close to him before. Or maybe you’re hot because his lips are only inches away from yours, because his presence is so intense that you feel like fainting any given minute.

At this very moment, his lips look as kissable as never before.

“Are you sure you’re alright, (y/n)?”

“I’m…Yeah!”, you blurt out.

Thank god he can’t see the way your cheeks turn dark red when his hand comes to a stand on your waist.

“I was deeply worried about your well-being. If something ever happens to you, I’d never be able to forgive myself for that”, he adds, his free hand now caressing your boiling cheek oh so gently.

“Just tell her you love her, man. Her head’s already super red”, Sanemi shouts from afar.

“What!?”, both of you reply in an instant.

“Your head is red.”

“You…love me?”

Kyojuro Rengoku

Your nerves are tingling in frustration, just glancing at his back almost drives you over the edge.

Kyojuro and you never really had the same understanding when it came to missions. Him with his fiery passion, strong sense of justice, unwavering resolve and usually calm and composed demeanor. Until it comes to the safety of others.

And that’s where you part. It’s not like you don’t care about others, as if you’d risk innocent lives without blinking. But what comes first is destroying that demon as efficient as possible.

Even if it means putting your own life on the line.

“You were acting reckless during our mission again, (y/n). Your decisions almost put everyone around you at risk, including yourself”, he points out with unusual serious voice.

 “What are you even talking about? That was a lower moon demon, way too much to handle for those beginners. I saved their lives by playing a little risky!”, you bite back.

God, how much you hate those conversations. How is it that the two of you always end up with each other when you’re so different? What about Sanemi and Obanai, at least some guys who get it?

“Is this really how you feel about the situation? You need to be more careful with those lives and apart from that, we are a team”, he literally scolds you, now turning around and eyeing you up and down.

“I don’t give a damn about my life and I never asked for this!”, you jeer at him.

The atmosphere snaps. Suddenly, Rengoku grabs your collar and slams you against a nearby wall. You feel your breath getting momentarily knocked out of your aching lungs as your back crashes against the wood, the room’s dim light casting sharp shadows across Rengoku’s usual so tender face. His gleaming eyes stare at you with a mix of concern and anger so intensely that it feels like he’s completely burning you alive with those countless emotions. What the hell is going on?

His voice, usually so warm and encouraging, is sharp as he leans in close, his breath hot with frustration.

"You could have died out there! Do you think I would have just stood by and watched that happen?”

“Like you’d actually care about me!”

“Can’t you see how much I care at you?”

He screams into your face with so much force that you flinch. But what really catches you off guard are those words leaving his mouth. How much he cares about you?

“I mean, no…”, you mumble.

And for a brief moment, he leaves you utterly speechless. Never in your life, someone really cared about you. You were never more than a freak, a poor girl that grew up on her own with no one supporting her. Even within the demon slayer corps, you were always looked down at until you made it all the way to the top. You never cared about your own life and were more than sure than nobody else does at well.

But Rengoku…The way his hands still rest against your shoulders, his stinging gaze that now turns anger into despair. You can tell he isn’t lying. No, it seems like this man truly cares about you.

“Do you?”

“I’m worried each time you have to leave for a mission on your own, scared that you might risk your life, that I might never see you again. So I’m making sure that you’re staying by my side. Because I care about you. More than I should”, he blurts out.

“What are you trying to say?”, you mutter with widened eyes.

This can’t mean that he loves you, right? It’s impossible for a man like him to fall for you, after all. With you being his polar opposite and getting on his nerves constantly, with you being the only one who managed to make him lose his composure on a regular basis, with you not being able to communicate your very own feelings towards him...

“I love you, (y/n)!”

“Impossible-“

„Look at me.“

When his vibrant orbs meet yours again, your heart almost stops. There’s not a single spark of humour in them, not a tiny hint that he might lie.

“You are remarkable good at reading other people. Tell me I’m lying.”

It’s a faint whisper in the distance, a silent cry inside your head that suggest you to lean forward instead of talking.

That faint whisper that forces your lips against his. Longingly, passionately, like he’s air and you cannot breathe. Rengoku lingers over you with his large frame, his hands keeping your waist in place while you’re still pinned against the wall, trapped between his hot body and the cool wood.

“You can’t love me, I’m a mess”, you mutter into his parted lips.

“I am more than eager to give you what you want and need, (y/n).”

Sanemi Shinazugawa

“Look who’s there again.”

“Who the hell invited her?”, Sanemi hisses into the room when his eyes meet yours.

“You know, (y/n) is a hashira too. It’s only logical for her to attend a hashira meeting”, Shinobu explains calmly.

“Fuck that. She’s so annoying that I might die when I look at her.”

"Wow, if I knew I had that much power over you, I would have dialed up the annoyance ages ago”, you reply dryly.

There’s nothing that brings you more joy than seeing that vein pop out of Sanemi’s forehead when he’s losing it again. Even though he turned his back on you, you can clearly see the way his muscles tense up, how he balls his hands into fists so tight that his knuckles stand out white.

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, huh?”

“A jerk, maybe?”

He grabs you by your collar faster than you’re able to react and drags you out of the room without anyone following.

“Shouldn’t we help (y/n)?”, Mitsuri cries out.

“And get between them? No, they are good on their own”, Obanai remarks.

“Maybe they finally confess to each other.”

“Confess to each other what?”

“Let go of me, you prick!”, you hiss through gritted teeth while slapping his arm away.

“You have some fucking nerve.”

In the blink of an eye, Sanemi presses you firmly against the wall outside with his way too strong forearm.

“Barging in there and insulting me in front of everyone.”

“What can I say? I’m an entertainer.”

“You’re a pain in the ass. You…You…”

He’s lost at words when your eyes find his. Gleaming in confidence, that smitten smile that caresses your lips.

Why do you have to be so damn beautiful?

“What’s wrong, cat got your-“

You aren’t able to finish your sentence. In fact, you just forgot how to talk, let alone breathe.

Without a warning, you find Sanemi’s lips pressed roughly against yours, his hands resting on each side of your head. Demanding, violent.

And so hot that your knees threaten to fail you.

You would have never admit it, never dared to talk about your dreams about him to anyone. After all, you’re supposed to hate him, right? There’s nothing but hatred between you and Sanemi.

He shoves you even rougher against the wall, forces you to instinctively wrap your legs around his waist to feel him even closer. Whimper after whimper escapes your puffy lips, the sensation of his mouth against yours almost eating you up alive.

“I hate you”, he grumbles.

“God, I hate you even more”, you whine.

“I just knew you guys wouldn’t hold up any longer”, Obanai’s voice comments behind you.

“I can’t believe it! Everyone, look at this!”, Mitsuri jeers while clapping her hands.

Sanemi builds himself up in front of you, shields your body from the curious looks of your comrades.

“Get lost, every single one of you!”, he shouts demanding.

“Come on, let’s give them some space”, Shinobu adds while dragging all of them back inside.

“I…I still hate you.”

“I hate you even more.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

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@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt @sanemifucker @blunderland

[bahablastplz]

Prove it: Seungmin x Reader

Kim Seungmin, your best friend, is so fucking smug all the time. You make the mistake of implying that no man can finger a girl the way they do in porn, and you make the mistake of challenging him when he tells you he can. Content: Smut Warnings: Fingering, slightly mean Seungmin, degradation WC: 1700 Read part 2 here

“Porn isn’t real.” Seungmin blinked at you from where he sat on the other end of the couch, unamused. The TV was playing something in the background, but neither of you had been paying attention for quite some time. 

“Obviously. Everyone knows that,” he says, annoyed. “Care to share why you’re bringing this up now?” 

You turn your phone around to show him the video you were watching–some girl getting fingered and enjoying it a bit too much, moans increasingly loud as she squirts and creams all over the guy’s fingers. 

“Dude, are you seriously watching porn right now?” He laughs at you, incredulous. “Watch the fucking TV at least.” 

“You’re not watching the TV,” you point out to him. Your friend has been lazily scrolling on his phone for at least 30 minutes. 

“Yeah, but I’m not watching porn while I’m supposed to be hanging out with my best friend.” 

“Fine, fine!” you say, throwing your hands up in surrender. The conversation goes quiet and you ignore the blush that crawls up your face at your friend’s words. 

“What part of that wasn’t real though?” He asks, finally breaking the silence. 

“No girl gets fingered like that and it actually feels that good,” you say. “She was obviously faking it.”

Seungmin doesn’t look up from his phone. “Maybe you’ve been hanging out with the wrong guys.” 

You scoff. “Like you would know, Kim Seungmin. I doubt you’ve ever even fingered a woman before, let alone made one squirt.”

He finally looks up from his phone, lifting a brow. “Are you implying I don’t get any?” 

“Not implying,” you say. “Just stating the obvious.” 

You and your friend have been known to tease one another relentlessly so this was nothing new. The absolutely neutral expression on Seungmin’s face, however, threw you for a loop. You find yourself backtracking, talking again way too fast and digging yourself into a deeper hole. 

“He was moving his hand way too fast!” you say. “It didn’t even look like he was even touching her clit. Yet there she was, seemingly cumming all over his hand! It just doesn’t seem real, you know?” 

“There are other erogenous zones other than the clit,” he says. He’s staring at you now. “I’m telling you, if no guy has ever made you feel that good from fingering, they’re doing it wrong.” 

“And you would do it right?” you challenge. You’re trying to fluster him–he’s simply way too calm for this conversation, and you hate being the only one who’s heart is beating way too fast. 

“I would.” He says it like it’s a fact. It pisses you off, how sure of himself he is. Seungmin, your best friend, who is seemingly nerdy and shy and quiet, who is now looking at you with all of the confidence in the world. Arousal pooled in your stomach as you thought about one fact you knew about your friend: He never took on a challenge he knew he couldn’t win. 

It has always been evident in the way he engages with his own friends. They would make bets with one another, each one more ridiculous than the next, and Seungmin would egg them on and only participate if he was sure he could do it. He would always be nonchalant about it. “I could beat you,” he would say, and they would always take the bait. As if he weren’t even trying, he would always win. That infuriating piece of knowledge, the idea of finally being able to prove him wrong is what motivates you to say what you do: 

“Prove it.” 

He lets out a small chuckle. “If you’re trying to proposition me, you’re going to have to do better than that.” 

“What?” you stutter. Once again he’s managed to get the upper-hand, noticing how embarrassed you get at his words. 

“You want me to finger you that bad? You’re going to have to ask me nicely.” 

You start to backtrack. “Who said I was–” 

“So you don’t want me to finger your pretty little cunt until you cum all over my hands? Hmm? You don’t want to squirt all over my fingers?” He says it as simply as he would if he were talking about the weather. 

You want to deny him now. You want to brush it off, tell him to fuck off, and go back to doom-scrolling and pretending to watch TV. But you don’t. 

“Hmm?” He asks again, taunting you. 

“I do,” you reply finally. 

“Then ask nicely,” he tells you. He moves closer to you on the couch, phone still in his hand. You want to pick it up and throw it across the living room. Maybe that would get a reaction out of him. 

You glance down on his phone, looking to see what he has been looking at that has got him so preoccupied and uninterested up until now. You’re surprised to see nothing but his home screen. Bingo. There was nothing all along. 

“Please,” you say, smiling sweetly at him. 

“Please what?” Now he was getting on your nerves. 

“For fuck’s sake, Seungmin! Please finger me! Please, please make me cum all over your fingers!” You cry out, exasperated. Your words are sarcastic but you get the reaction you wanted from him nonetheless; he reaches over you and grabs the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down with your panties in one swift motion. You’re left completely bare for him. 

This has now crossed over into uncharted territory. Instinctually, you close your legs. Are you really ready to show yourself completely to Seungmin just to prove a point? Just to show he’s wrong and that his cockiness in his ability to finger a girl is all for show?

“Nope,” he chides. “You wanted it so bad, you don’t get to hide from me.” His hand on your knee sends electric sparks up your body. 

Yes. Yes, you were. 

You spread your legs open wide for him, watching his face. He was seemingly unaffected by your actions, the ghost of a grin on his face. He makes a show of reaching over your body, ignoring your core completely to push two fingers past your lips. Your brows shoot up in surprise and he lets out a small breath that’s reminiscent of a laugh.

“Suck.” You do. You let your tongue swirl around the digits in your mouth, getting them nice and wet for him. You do so almost obscenely, moaning slightly at the taste of his fingers and letting spit fall down your chin. He responds by shoving them further into your mouth, pumping them in and out and eventually far down enough that you gag all over them. Your reactions are no longer for show now; he’s already managed to shut you up. 

When he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, it’s with a string of saliva. He reaches in between your legs and finally makes contact with your folds. His touches are featherlight, teasing. He’s watching the way your chest rises and falls, your labored breathing, the way you want to close your thighs again not to hide, but to finally relieve the pressure between your legs and he smirks. 

When his wet fingers dip into your hole you can hear them because you’re already soaking wet. He shallowly thrusts his fingers in and out, gathering your wetness and bringing it up to spread it across your folders. He taps your clit with his fingers, gentle and not with the intention that you need. 

“Seungmin, if you don’t stop teasing me I swear to God–” 

And he shushes you. When you go to protest once again, his fingers finally meet your clit. He rubs circles around it, rhythmic and systemic in his ministrations. He’s working you up, slow and steady until you’re completely putty in his hands. He switches between stimulating your clit and fucking his fingers up into your entrance, occasionally curling them and hitting that spongey spot that has you holding your breath.  

When your eyes meet his, the look he gives you is devious. 

He leans forward, spitting directly on your soaked pussy. You gasp. 

“Is this all you needed? Wanted to get on my last nerve so fucking bad, didn’t you baby? Did you just need my fingers to shut you up?” 

You whine at his words. When his fingers dive into your entrance again the pace he sets is brutal, thrusting into you fast and hard. The palm of his hand hits your clit every time his fingers bully into you. 

“Seung–too much,” you say. 

“Shhhh,” he tells you again. “You wanted it so fucking bad, baby. You can take it.” Your hips buck up to meet his hands and you start to pulse around him–he can tell you’re getting close. His fingers leave your entrance and attack your clit, soaking wet as he rubs furiously but with precision. It’s that motion that has you cumming so hard you’re seeing stars, possibly harder than you ever have in your entire life. The noises that come out of your mouth are not your own, they can’t be. You can’t give him that satisfaction–but you already have. 

When you come down from your high you’re glaring at him. He removes his fingers from your center and looks at you, smug, as he slips them into his mouth with a grin. 

He turns his head and scoots back down to the other end of the couch, smiling to himself as he scrolls on his phone once again. You look at him, still trying to catch your breath. 

“Yes?” He says to you. You must have been staring for a beat too long. 

“You didn’t make me squirt,” you point out. It’s a baseless accusation, a way to try to salvage your bruised ego since you both know he’s already won. 

He simply points down to his shirt which has been soaked from your orgasm; you didn’t even notice. “Told you,” he says. 

“Whatever,” you say, rolling your eyes. You pull your pants up and cross your arms, watching the TV and pretending not to care. 

“I bet that I can make you squirt all over my cock,” he says with a smile. He doesn’t look up from his phone when he speaks. 

You already know what you’re doing when you meet his eyes and say, “Prove it.”

*** A/N: Seungmin has been bias-wrecking me a little too hard as of late. This man is too fine.

Masterlist

[pomefioredove]

HIYYYAAAA

JUST SAW THE FLRITY PROMPTS EVENT!

What do you say about Lilia with "Don't bite your lip, I want to do that."

I would say hgghh💕💖❤️

summary: "don't bite your lip, I want to do that" type of post: short fic characters: lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is kinda implied to be yuu but doesn't have to be, not proofread, Lilia is shamelessly flirty thank u a part of this event

There are very few things that still manage to catch Lilia by surprise.

At his age, he's simply running out of new experiences; school, politics, even the wonderful world of the internet have started becoming monotonous and boring, leaving him in a slump.

Perhaps, then, that's why he's taken such an interest in you.

Such an intriguing little creature, he thinks, watching you from the shadows of the Diasomnia lounge.

You'd come by to drop something off for Malleus, the sweet thing that you are, and, once again, Lilia finds himself shamelessly staring.

He knows he shouldn't, but, oh, he truly can't help himself!

He inches closer. Lilia can't help but wonder what sort of noise you'll make when he startles you this time. A gasp? A shout, perhaps? Maybe even a cute little squeak... the thought of that is strangely exciting to him.

Only one way to find out.

He drops out of the shadows, blocking you from the exit just as you turn towards it. "Hello!"

And... Nothing.

You smile. "Ah... hello again, Lilia. Did Malleus tell you I was coming?"

His arms fall to his sides with a pout. Nothing? Nothing at all? You look at him like he has something stuck in his teeth.

"He may have mentioned," Lilia sighs. "You're impossible to tease these days. It's quite disappointing, really."

You smile slightly, much to his bemusement. He hates letting you have the upper hand... "Maybe I've started anticipating your pranks. You'll just need to find some new material,"

New material...? He scoffs. You're not even the least bit concerned about him!

"It used to be so easy to get a rise out of you. Humans change far too fast," he laments.

"Now I'll never get to see that flustered look on your face ever again! Or I'll have to come up with something new to tease you with..."

"Orrrr... you could just not tease me at all?"

He chuckles, shaking his head as if you had just said something ridiculous. "With your precious reactions? Impossible!"

You sigh.

Lilia tuts, tapping his chin as if lost in deep thought. He circles you once, twice, then stops in front of you.

"I can't think of anything," he sighs dramatically. "It'll come to me later... Is that uniform new?"

"Oh, uh..." you mutter, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. You turn around yourself in a circle. How cute.

"Well, it's the same uniform, but I got my measurements taken at Pomefiore, and they they got me a better fitting one."

"I can tell,"

He hums pleasantly, dragging his eyes over your body. "They did a wonderful job accentuating your features,"

You huff and look away, much to his delight, clearly taken by surprise by his change in tone.

"...Thank you,"

"Fufufu. Don't mention it," Lilia says, eyes narrowing. "You don't get complimented very much, do you?"

"Not regularly,"

"I could surmise as much. Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're almost flustered by little old me. Is that right?"

Hook, line, and sinker. Your eyes widen as you realize that you've walked right into his trap. "Oh, no, no. I'm not. I'm fine!"

"Really? Don't get shy on me, now. I'm beginning to like this even more than scaring you,"

He takes a step forward, drinking in the sight of you, your body's nervous reactions to his teasing. "How cute,"

"Tease," you say, biting the corner of your lip.

You back yourself against the wall of the lounge, to his absolute delight, and he takes that as an invitation to get closer.

"That I am," Lilia admits without a hint of shame. "But don't bite your lip... I want to do that."

That long sought-after squeak finally escapes you, music to his ears, and he leans closer. For a moment, it seems like he's about to close the distance between you... then, at the last second, he pulls back.

He chuckles. "Oh, what fun! I haven't felt so young in ages. But I do have other business to attend to,"

And so, Lilia leaves you stunned, trembling against the wall as he merrily walks off before you seem to come to your senses.

"Vanrouge, you little shit! Get back here!"

A slight giggle escapes him as he starts off running, with you not far behind. He was right; this is much, much more rewarding than scaring you.

Maybe, if you make another one of those cute noises, he'll even let you catch him.

[ezdotjpg]

do you have any directors commentary on the recent two updates? 👉👈 the color palette is absolutely lovely! and and and WOLF!! :DD

OH BOY DO I

In the original draft of this chapter, Wolf stays a, uh, wolf until like the 4th update. Instead of actually managing to get his teeth on the master sword, Loft threw him off immediately. The Deku Tree still said the line about all three of them being heroes and Slate is like. “Including the fucking dog????!” I thought it was very funny but a) it made some scenes later down the line a huge pain and b) I was tired of drawing wolves ALDKDKD

You may have noticed Wolf’s scowling in the bg of almost every panel. That’s kind of just his face, but also right now my guy is nursing the world’s biggest migraine from popping the shadow crystal out of his skull. He can stay wolfmode for a while, but it’s still technically a curse. It’s not consequence free, and there’s an upper limit for how long he can spend in that form. Anyway, cut him some slack if he’s a little prickly for a bit.

There were a lot of comments about Loft being strong enough to toss a wolf over his head lol. My hc is that he’s one of, if not the strongest Link sans any magic items like power bracelets or gauntlets. He’s actually not even as strong now as he was during his quest. Wolf maybe has him beat now, but he can still get tossed lolol

It might seem like Slate’s really taken everything that happened at the end of ch1 in stride, but don’t worry. He’s simmering. Loft is grateful for the opportunity to get distracted by something else. Maybe that’s why he was so willing to approach the wild animal he’s never seen before lol

This maybe goes without saying based on the events of the last two updates, but Slate never had wolf link with him during the events of botw. He doesn’t recognize Wolf.

I’m really glad ppl seem to be liking the colors bc I struggled with them so hard on both updates 🫠literally days of me turning to my roommate and going “I think I’ve never made anything worse” and them going “it looks good stop being dramatic” WKDJDK I have this thing where if I had an idea in my head for what an update should look like, and what I produce doesn’t meet it somehow, I start seeing in fucking. shrimp colors. Posting always gives me a confidence boost back lol.

these pages were cursed in general bc like. this doesn’t usually happen but I think I redrew every panel in this update at least 5 times each. that’s part of why it ended up being late SKDJF

I REALLY like the idea of being in the presence of the Triforce and having access to its power being this eldritch, divinely horrifying experience. The sort of thing that is impossible to explain to anyone and also haunts you forever. Loft spends a lot of time actively trying not to think about the Triforce. Just, like, remember that about him.

Like how tears in reality are shown through holes in the literal comic panels, I tried to show the concept of reality bending in the form of a panel stretching and twisting like a ribbon ��( ᐛ )ᕗ I hope that came across. Triforce lore varies a bit from game to game, but I’ve come up with my own internal logic for bonus links that combines all the ideas I like lolol. We’ll learn more about it in due time!

I also really like this parallel :D I intentionally set up the panels so past and present loft would line up like this. i love getting to draw flashback links it’s so fun to think of ways to convey what they used to be like, and how their quests might have gone for them. Past Loft’s not having a great time by the time he reaches this point lol

I think that’s all I’ve got for now. Thanks for asking :D

[starrynights-sunnyskies]

⋆*·ﾟI read it in your eyes... misa x putellas!femreader

⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ

a night out appears to be the turning point in the journey of dealing with your heartbreak and, once again, misa is there to witness what she probably shouldn't have.

or; part of the as the flowers bloom, my heart does too universe

⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ

The van stopped on the curb of a small street, trees lining up every few metres and a tram whizzing past across the street. Alexia jumped out, walked up to the creme-coloured brick apartment building and dug a key out of her pocket before disappearing behind the doors. Alba pressed her face against the window of the van, eyes looking up as she sighed in exasperation,

"Bathroom light is still on. Prepare to wait for another decade before she's done." She tried to joke, but her face was set in a grimace. Misa wondered if it had anything to do with Alexia having had the same reaction when asked about her little sister earlier that week.

"Are you sure her girlfriend isn't keeping her hostage and forbidding her to leave?"

"God, yeah, remember when she whisked her away the second we touched down from Ibiza that one time? Those two are super-glued together."

A set of giggles rang through the car, but a few women, who clearly had more intel, fell silent.

Alba's lips immediately set into a thin line, "They've broken up, and this is the only time I'll warn you guys to never bring that woman up again. She's a pariah, a fucking deadly disease. For all I know, she doesn't exist. Or at least I can pretend she doesn't." Alba muttered the last part, crossing her arms and sinking into her seat with her eyebrows furrowed and a far-away look on her face. It still hurt her that she hadn't stepped in sooner, how she could've saved most of the heartbreak if she hadn't trusted you when you told her you were just going through a rough patch, and that was all. Her need to protect you had been there ever since newborn-you had been carefully put into her and Alexia's lap, and she'd played with your tiny fingers and watched you coo. Though she had been young herself, she had managed to comprehend the unspoken responsibility that came with being an older sister. Yet, she'd still failed by dismissing her worries when she thought you were mature enough and that you deserved her trust and respect. You'd told her not to worry, that you could handle it, and she'd given you the trust and support to back that claim. If only Alba had known what had really been going on behind closed doors, things might have been different now.

The van was awfully silent after Alba's comment for all of the five minutes it took for Alexia to reappear with you strolling behind her, face cast down to the ground where your heels clacked against the cobblestoned pavement. The short maroon summer dress that clung to your upper thighs made you look absolutely gorgeous, even if it made Misa feel oddly underdressed with her jeans and top. But even if you'd decided to wear joggers and a sweater, she knew you would've still outshone everyone in that van. In her eyes, anyway.

She caught the quickest glance of your face, despite you making it your job to barely lift your head to acknowledge the others in a silent greeting, but she had managed to catch the sullen look nonetheless.

The intense scent of freshly applied perfume wafted through the van, and Misa, ashamedly so, realised it wasn't the same one you'd used during your last vacation. That one had been soft and light, with a tinge of something citrusy, something fresh. Perhaps, it was your designated summer scent, and going to a club required something a little heavier to stick through the night. Your powdery floral musk enveloped her senses, and she had no other option but to bask in it as the van revved and left your street.

Alexia had gently ushered you to sit between her and Olga, your sister's girlfriend immediately pulling you into her side. Misa watched from the back row as you let her, like some brittle puppet who otherwise couldn't sit up without crumbling. Alexia and Olga shared a look over your head, like a silent exchange of their worries, allegiance and support for you. But Misa realised it was a silent promise when they dipped their heads in confirmation.

The van never erupted into loud laughter again, not after Alba's breaking news, but the occasional whispered small talks softly picked up again.

A ringtone cut through the hushed silence, Hey Ya! by Outkast blaring through the van. Feeling the vibration in your lap, you opened your clutch and dug out your phone, surprised to see the caller ID on there.

Though Alexia had deleted everything that reminded you of your ex-girlfriend from life, she hadn't breached your privacy and taken your phone to get rid of the countless photos and text messages she knew were still on there. She thought you would've been wise enough to do so yourself, seeing what your ex had done to you.

Still, it surprised her when she curiously glanced at your screen. Her brows shot up to her hairline, and she immediately made a move to snatch the device out of your hands, not even to restrict you from answering, per se, but to give the woman who had ruined you another piece of her mind.

"No- Alexia!" You rushed out, holding the phone out of her reach, knowing full well what she would do if she got your phone, "Please, don't make it worse."

Her face was pure disgust and malice, "Why's she calling?"

"Well, I wouldn't know without answering, would I?"

She gave you a pointed look at your attitude. That side of you hadn't come out since your teenage years, and though she missed when you'd still been young and innocent since those days had been fleeting, she didn't want them to return to her like this.

"You're not thinking of answering her, are you?" She shot back harshly, missing the way Olga softly shook her head to not give in and fuel her little sister's fire.

You gasped when the phone was plucked out of your grip from behind, long nails scratching your hand through the movement. Instantly, you turned around to stare at Alba's blank face. The chipper tune of the song still cut through the charged silence before your sister turned off your phone and pushed it beneath the strap of her bra, enveloping the van in silence again. Well, only momentarily.

You gaped at her, bewildered.

"Give me my phone back."

Alba gave her chest a little tap, a gesture to secure the phone, but by doing so, putting salt in the open wound, "Not until I trust you are strong enough to not let it get to you again."

"Who are you to make that decision?" You snapped, all sense and resolve gone. You had let your ex dictate your entire life, play and push you around like some puppet on a string. You weren't going to let anyone else tell you what to do or say. Not anymore.

"I'm your sister and I'm looking out for you, something I should've done months ago. Now, turn around and stop sulking. You look like an angry child throwing a fit because she has missed her nap. Venga-" Alba spoke with an air of finality, waving you off and not crumbling under the deathly glare you directed her way.

Humiliation was the feeling that washed over you when your eyes finally went around the van. No one met your eyes. They probably tried their hardest to disappear or pretend they weren't breaching what obviously should've been a very private conversation.

Misa quickly looked at the world behind the window when she noticed your eyes roaming across the back row to find hers. But you never succeeded.

Two arms slung around your waist from both sides of you, but you pushed them off, irked and irritated by the comfort Olga and Alexia were trying to give you. You'd never been good at switching your emotions on and off when things got heated like this. You were still mad. They needed to let you sit with your anger until it would fade out naturally and you could accept their well-meant comfort again.

'She's right, you know. We only want what's best for you,', Alexia wanted to say that and so much more when she watched your jaw tense and your bottom lip wobble, but knew not to bother you in your state of distress. Pushing you to let others help you with your emotions or having you communicate what you were feeling before you could calm down usually only made things worse. Your family had learned that the hard way. It had been a thing ever since you were little, and it had usually brought out temper outbursts whenever they'd gone against it. Whereas those would've been able to be dealt with with your favourite stuffed animal and snack, or by the mere sight of your father's fond smile, your sisters weren't quite sure how to comfort you this time around. Not when they'd thought that your girlfriend had taken the place of being your rock, the one to calm you down. If only they'd known she'd been the one to make you feel as little as she could, things would've been different.

You let the tears trickle down your cheeks, refusing to wipe them away and show everyone sitting in the rows behind you that you were crying. So what if it ruined your makeup? It wasn't like anyone in the club would see, or care, for that matter. They'd only care for your lips, and they were still coated in a freshly applied layer of gloss, puckered and ready to be kissed.

It was as if Alexia knew of your plans the second you all stepped out and walked down the stairs to the underground club. And, well, perhaps she did know after having watched a woman walk out of your apartment when she was going up to check on you. She'd caught on twice, although you figured the second time had been because Alexia'd had a hunch and her worried self had cared more for your wellbeing and her unanswered texts than the possibility of her getting scarred by what she could walk into. But when she realised the second woman was a different one than the first, she'd gotten mad and lectured you about all the things you didn't want to talk about. Who was she to tell you how to live your life? You were young, single and sexually frustrated and wanted to take advantage of that. You wanted to be worshipped and cared for, no matter how fleeting, and didn't care that there weren't real feelings of love involved. At least, that was what you tried to convince yourself.

When she'd seen you practically glued to some woman's lips and leave with her the last time you'd gone to this exact club, Alexia knew the only person you needed to be glued to that night, was her. It was already a miracle that she'd let you tag along, but, after careful consideration, she realised it was better to keep you where she could see you than to leave you in your apartment, inviting god knows who to keep you company. You knew she’d told Alba all about it, but were eternally grateful she hadn’t let your mother in on your recent activities, knowing full well the woman would barricade you in your childhood room and smother you with her motherly love until you were feeling okay again and not finding comfort with strangers.

The music was thunderous against the walls, and the purple hue was a recurring colour in the club. Alexia's hand found yours and she squeezed onto it for dear life when you pushed through the many bodies and toward your reserved booth. She purposefully trapped you among her friends, even pushing you to sit down when you'd tried to excuse yourself with some lame lie about needing to go to the bathroom already.

Alba scooted beside you, draping her legs playfully over your lap, but you knew it was a ploy to further trap you in your seat. You heard her snicker when you refused to look at her because you were clearly still mad at her. What annoyed you even further, was that you knew Alba couldn't care less. She'd done what she had set out to do, and that proud smile on her face said it all. She had always been insufferable when she got like that.

When you'd been younger, your mood swings had usually been diffused by your father, but after he had passed and you'd been in your pre-teens, Eli'd had her hands full trying to rope you in and get you and Alba out of each other's hair. Your temperaments had always been a little too similar to coerce peacefully. It had been a real challenge to keep your emotions in check, especially right after it had happened when you'd felt like a life raft floating on the open ocean. The feeling of loss had been just as difficult to navigate as the feeling of helplessness you'd felt. There wasn't anything you could have done for your father, besides comfort him the way he had comforted you for years. And there was nothing that could comfort you now that he was gone. Therapy had only helped to an extent, if you even let your therapists get close to solving you.

Alexia had already been spending all of her time on the pitch, so she'd, fortunately, missed most of those teenage fights. It was the only thing she never regretted missing out on. But without your father and with your mother out working to take care of her three young girls, you were left to listen to your older sisters, despite your clear loathing of it. And when Alexia was out as well, that meant you'd had to listen to Alba. And my, had she revelled with that power. It never helped that she often used that power to end discussions, even when she was clearly in the wrong. But if you didn't listen, you knew she would blab to your mother about something she wasn't supposed to know. Looking back at it now, you realised how your bond had grown. She was your big sister, had taken care of you when she'd been young and hurting herself and was effortlessly slipping into that role again right now. But, even if you knew she did it out of love, you couldn't help but grow a little irritated.

You pushed her legs off your lap, then rolled your eyes as she playfully groaned when she realised you weren't going to break.

"You're not going to ruin my night with that mood of yours, are you?"

You huffed and looked out over the dance floor. Your night was already ruined, that much was clear. You hadn't really been that opposed to tagging along and spending some time with your sisters and Alexia's friends, though you knew Alexia's laser eyes would make it damn near impossible for you to leave with someone. But now that you were here and couldn't even indulge, you were already counting down the time.

"Wipe that look off your face, it's not attractive."

"My resting bitch face has never given me any trouble here before."

Alba grumbled out an ew at the clear insinuation, and you counted that as a slight victory for your cause.

"Here-"

You watched the drink Alexia set in front of you, immediately making a face when you realised it was a simple Sprite. Even Alba gave her sister a questioning look.

Alexia, as if she'd already been expecting such a reaction from the two of you, gave in and handed you her alcoholic drink instead.

"Have mine then."

You eyed the rose-coloured drink, "What is it?"

"Pink gin with a red fruit tonic."

Alba scrunched her nose in disgust, "That's just an alcoholic lemonade."

"I swear, you have the taste buds of a child."

Alexia's mouth broke into a grin when you spoke, "Says the girl who drinks more Capri Sun than what's good for her."

Alba grabbed the pink gin and tonic and gave it a sip, face not contorting in nausea, as you'd half expected. She slapped her lips together, "Not terrible. Still not my thing."

With your sister distracted, you eyed the outline of your phone beneath her dress, but Alba already held up a finger to silence whatever plea was going to come out of your mouth.

"Don't even entertain the thought."

You threw your head back against the seat, "I want to go home. Can you call me a taxi?"

"And have her wait on your doorstep after you haven't answered her calls just now? Absolutely not." Alexia said, nicking her drink from Alba again, knowing neither of her sisters would drink it anyway.

"Then give me your phone, I'm bored."

Alexia sighed but obliged, watching as you opened her Candy Crush app, knowing you would likely close it again with a huff after seeing her unreasonably high level and knowing you weren't feeling that kind of mental stimuli right now.

And, just like she'd expected, you locked her phone with an exasperated groan.

"Want mine and find me some hot dates on Tinder?" Alba wiggled her brows, eyes brightening when she saw the intrigue on your face. Although maybe it had caught your interest for a more mischievous reason, she realised quickly.

"No-" She pulled her phone back before it could fall into your hand, "-be serious about it. No silly messages that'll make me look like a fool."

"Okay. Promise."

"And you know my type."

"Eiza González in Dusk Till Dawn?"

Alba slapped your head, "No, that's your type. Don't push your gay-awakening onto me." She grinned at the hurt look on your face, "And we surely aren't forgetting that your first girlfriend was a carbon copy of her, right?"

"Remind me why we ever broke up?" You complained, realising she was right.

Alba cackled, "Go reach out to her, I know there are still some feelings there. Second chances are a thing, you know?" She side-eyed you, realising her mistake of bringing up dating around you the second she saw the look on your face. She changed the subject to what she hoped would make you chat away enthusiastically, "Tell me again why you liked that character?"

"Oh, come on. Her in leather? On the motorcycle? With her fangs out? When her eyes change colour? Ordering men around? And that one scene where she danced with the snake?!"

"Clearly you're still infatuated," She poked at your ribs, but felt incredibly relieved to see the sudden moment of carefreeness appear on your face, "Honestly, I only watched it because you made me watch it with you, and it kept you quiet and distracted."

Now it was your hand that slapped her head.

She laughed, "Plus, it was fun watching you watch the show. I figured out you were a lady kisser way before you even knew it yourself."

You shrugged, "Well, Kisa was my Edward Cullen."

"Who?!"

"Kisa!? Santanico! The vampire queen?! Eiza's character," You rolled your eyes.

"Oh wow, forgive me for forgetting a character from a show we watched ten years ago- jesus."

Misa took a sip of her drink and watched while slowly but surely, the annoyance that had previously been etched into your face disappeared the longer you chatted with your sister. It seemed you started to warm up to her again— occasionally showing Alba her phone, which got paired with eyebrow wiggles and giggles. Misa hadn't realised how much she'd missed your laughter when it broke through the cacophony of the club chaos.

Upon hearing your laugh, Alba immediately snatched the phone from your hands, afraid you'd done exactly what you'd promised her not to. But when she saw the source of your amusement, her worry settled.

"Ten euros that she superliked you just for laughs," You almost instantly tapped the blue star on the profile of your childhood best friend, Abril, and cheered when the screen displayed a pop-up.

"Pay up!"

"No, I never agreed to anything," Alba playfully pulled at a loose strand of your hair, slightly yanking your head to the side. You didn't react to it, having been used to all the bullying as the youngest child.

You rolled your eyes, quickly typing a 'hey sexy lady' to Abril before your sister snatched the phone away and added a middlefinger emoji to the chat.

You perked up when Alba's phone vibrated, then typed away as Abril replied with a playful retort.

"Aw, shucks, she knows it is me."

"Duh, she knows I wouldn't ever superlike her," Alba sniggered.

Alba locked her phone and put it away, calling it quits for you on the Tinder matchmaking for the night. You sat back in your seat, eyes going over the many people in the club who seemed to be having way more fun than you.

To your right, Alexia's teammates scooted out of the booth. Your face lit up when Jenni turned to you, her hand outstretched and fingers wiggling as an invite.

Alexia and Alba shared a look, then nodded at each other, before turning to you.

"Go, have some fun," Alexia nodded, a soft smile on her face to tell you it was all right.

Alba's hand fell on your lower back and smoothed out your dress as you stood up and shimmied out of the booth. She gave your butt a slap, "But disappear on us and I'll tell mama you lost your virginity under her roof."

You turned around, cheeks flushed and a scowl on your face, "How- You guys weren't even home?!"

Alba shrugged, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, "Should've been more slick about it then."

"Don't-" Alexia pinched the bridge of her nose, "Don't use that word in that context, por favor."

"Well, you don't even know if it happened or not."

"Pretty sure you just confirmed it?"

You muttered profanities under your breath, "If you tell her, I'll tell her you dented her car when you tried to parallel park and not someone who drove into you at the grocery store."

"I wouldn't expect anything less. Just behave, laelia." She puckered her lips and made kissing noises, laughing at the look on your face, clearly still trying to decipher how in the world she knew of what you thought had been your secret.

You shook it off and took the olive branch Jenni presented you with both hands and almost fled the scene with her and the others, mind set on getting yourself a proper drink first before any other plans could be made.

You waved the bartender over and leaned against the bar as you watched her mix your chosen poison when you felt a presence beside you. That was fast, you thought, but was surprised to see one of your sister's national teammates land on the vacant stool next to you.

"Hey," Misa nodded her head, then ordered a drink, eyes roaming across the many bottles on display and not meeting those of your own as you stared at her. Misa had been a mystery to you since the start. She hadn't been rude to you per se, just... closed off. And with you especially. It was something you'd sometimes encountered before, but those times, you could clearly see the interest and adoration in people's faces, a little too intimidated by your energy and beauty to approach. It felt different with Misa. As if she didn't even want to indulge in a glance your way. Had you done something off-putting in her presence that you weren't aware of? The distance she clearly maintained between the two of you, even after many a dinner sat next to one another, was odd. Still, you didn't want to give up on getting her out of her shell around you. You'd succeed. One day.

"Having fun?" You had to lean in to her to be heard over the music. Misa's smile was friendly, but as friendly as a stranger reciprocating a smile from across the street. Nothing too welcoming, nothing that notified she was one of your sister's closest friends and that you had actually shared two weeks basking in the sun together.

"Now I am," She motioned at the beer bottle that was set in front of her, "-you?"

The bartender slid your drink over to you, topping it off with a straw and a pearly white smile, "Now I am." You smiled devilishly and reused her words, eyeing the woman who had made your drink a little longer than necessary when you slid over a ten euro bill.

"Salud!"

Misa clinked her bottle with your glass before you both took a sip. You turned around, back against the bar and fingers toying with the black straw as your eyes flitted across the dance floor.

Misa watched you, heart hammering against her chest faster than the music around her. She knew she was supposed to say something, knew that you were expecting her to. But how was she to think straight when you were right there, close enough to touch if she turned around in her stool, your perfume intoxicating her in all the right ways? Her eyes raked your body, watching how the fabric of your dress tugged around the curves of your breasts, hips and bottom, how your bare legs got her as hypnotised as those soft locks of yours she wanted to reach out and touch. She watched your fingers readjust the necklace on your chest, how they left droplets on your skin from the condensation of your drink. She couldn't help but stare as it trickled down your cleavage.

She froze when you suddenly turned around, head tilting as you watched her intently. She'd been caught staring at your breasts, and her face turned ten shades darker.

Your mouth moved but she couldn't comprehend the words in her state of panicked embarrassment. She could only watch the healthy blush that had appeared on your face since stepping into the stuffy club, how you looked at her from underneath your eyelashes as if you could see right through her. And, perhaps you could. Especially after she had just ogled your plunging neckline. The fear that thought came with shook Misa out of her stupor.

"Come again?" She leaned in, trying to blame the booming sound around you, head moving to the side so as to not come any closer to your breasts and betray her feelings even more.

"Wanna dance?"

Misa was thankful for the distorted purple lighting around her, for she was sure you would've caught her blushing right away.

"Um, I don't really dance. But thanks."

She did dance. Hell, she liked to dance. She'd wanted to get silly and let loose all the stress and pressure of the hard week. But dancing with you would only add to her nerves and stress and it would do nothing to help her crush on you, which was multiplying every second she spent near you. Even after weeks or months of not seeing you, just the slightest tease of a glance at you or mention of your existence could reawaken her feelings.

Misa saw your face fall momentarily, but you seemed to shake it off.

"Can you watch my drink while I'm gone? If you want to go back to the booth, it's okay, but if you do, just bring my drink along because I did not spend nine euros for five sips, only for it to go to waste." You laughed heartedly, and Misa swore she could fly. She'd always basked in your sweet and light energy, but whenever it was directed to her, even for a split second, Misa found herself on another planet entirely. A very pink one with butterflies flitting all over.

"Sure," She grinned, albeit with a kind of timidness that was new to her.

"And don't you dare take a sip, because I'll know if you do." You pointed a finger at her, eyes narrowed but lips curved into a ludic smile. Her eyes fell on your lips, then quickly glanced at your eyes, realising she shouldn't get caught staring at your breasts and lips all within the same minute.

Tud, tud, tud, tud, tud, tud-

Misa felt her fastening heartbeat drum in her ears and ribcage as she swallowed and shook her head, a breathy chuckle getting lost in the noise of the club. You turned around, threw your hair over your shoulder and disappeared into the crowd as a new song started to play.

Misa had stayed there for ten minutes, sipping her beer occasionally while fiercely guarding your drink with her hand, shielding it whenever anyone walked by. When she'd finished her drink, she'd had a brief moment of bravery and had considered finding you in the dancing crowd after all. She could do it. There was nothing wrong with dancing with friends during a night out, especially not after drinks had been involved, albeit only one or two. Her beer had barely gotten her tipsy, she needed more of that, but she wanted to keep her wits about her if she were to interact with you. One misplaced word or longing look and she would be discovered. Remaining undetected had proven a difficult task even while sober. Still, she knew that she could dance beside you, especially if the others were with you. But that daydream had popped when your maroon dress appeared in her peripheral.

You had closed your eyes, giving in to the music and letting your hands glide sensually over your curves. You oozed self-assuredness, elegance and sexiness, displaying how truly comfortable you were in your own skin. You could've gotten lost in the music and was nearly at the point of forgetting where you were when you felt someone behind you.

Misa watched as your body moved with a fluid, sensual kind of grace that had her captivated, but she got distracted by the tall and tanned woman approaching you. She had wavy black hair and looked like some damned ancient goddess with her height and poise. She was tightly pressed against your back, her hands on your hips as you both danced in sync with the rhythm of the music. Misa watched in horror as one of the woman's hands glided from your hip to your stomach, then further upwards until she pulled your chin to the side so she could look at you. As soon as she leaned in, you didn't push her off like Misa had expected you to, but you turned around and snaked your arms around her neck, pushing your hips flush against her.

Misa turned away when your hand grabbed a fistful of those black locks and you moved in the hot and heavy pace of your feverish makeout. She stood there, frozen, your drink in her hand and her heart crumbling as fast as her confidence.

Back to the booth it was, it seemed. She pushed herself off the stool, taking one last glance to see if you'd seen reason and pushed the woman off after all, but sighed and retreated. All her bravery and hope had vanished and she felt pathetic for ever thinking of dancing with you like some foolish teenage girl dancing with her crush at her senior year's school prom. The reference instantly reminded her that all it would and could ever be, was a crush. A silly, pitiful crush.

"What's happened?" Patri asked as soon as she saw how faraway in her thoughts Misa seemed.

"Nothing?" Misa pushed out a chuckle, carefully setting down the drink she'd guarded for the past fifteen minutes, in vain.

"Fucking hell-" Sounded, and everyone looked at Alexia, whose eyes were glaring at something happening in the background. Going by the tone and rigidness in your sister's posture, Misa could take a good guess what it was about.

You had lost yourself in the heady feeling of growing desire with the stranger in your arms. And if Misa had felt uneasy, she could only guess the level of discomfort Alexia was in seeing her littlest sister engaging in such... activities.

"Ale-" Olga quickly pulled her girlfriend back down.

"I can't stand this self-destructing behaviour any longer. I knew this would happen if we'd take her. It's painful to watch."

"She's... she's just kissing, though?" Mariona wondered, not seeing the problem in a young and single woman having some fun and letting go of her inhibitions for the night.

Laia blew out a breath, "More like getting her face eaten off."

"I thought she was with Jenni and the others?!" Alexia grumbled, turning her head to not have to see her little sister practically dry-humping a stranger, "Where's Alba?"

"Bathroom."

Patri had barely even answered when they watched the situation unfold before them. Alba had walked out of the bathroom, clearly having been met with the same distasteful display right in front of her and not going to tolerate whatever bullshit coping mechanism this was.

"Oh, no."

You felt a set of arms pull at your waist from behind, tearing you from the stranger's grasp. A split second later, you went from being glued to one torso to the other, but as soon as you heard her voice, you knew you were in deep trouble.

"We're going home." Alba growled.

With wide eyes from both shock and the desire still lingering somewhere within you, you watched as the woman you'd been dancing with took a step towards your sister, clearly wanting to intimidate her after the stunt she'd just pulled with you. She couldn't have a clue who Alba was. In her eyes, your sister was just another woman who'd had a little too much to drink and had crossed a line and made you uncomfortable. She glared at your sister, and though she was two heads taller than Alba, the tiny spitfire of your sister beside you wasn't impressed.

"Hands off her." The woman spoke, eyes softening as she looked at you, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine-" You spat through gritted teeth as you harshly pulled yourself out of Alba's grip, sending her a nasty glare.

"Should we go?" She wondered, and you nodded. The woman's hand found yours, clearly still pent up with the same carnal craving swirling through her body, and wanting you to relieve her of it. But as she went to pull you out of the crowd, you were turned around.

Alba pushed your phone against your chest, eyes spitting fire but lip trembling as she realised she'd clearly lost any and all control over you. Especially at a time when she so desperately wanted to be there and guide you through your heartbreak. In a time when you needed her to stop you from making mistakes. Whatever you had been doing lately— trying to find solace in strangers to prove you weren't as unlovable as your ex had made you feel, to fill the emptiness, to feel longed after and cared for, even if the care had only sexual undertones. To get your frustrations out, then cry yourself to sleep afterwards and not leave your bed unless you had to go to work. It pained her how she was helpless. She couldn't believe how you didn't realise that putting a plaster on a gaping wound was laughable at best, but here you were, planting another plaster on the open wound of your heart, while letting the blood seep through your fingers.

When she looked at you, she knew she'd lost you entirely.

"Here, in case you wound up in some ditch and need us to get you." She spat, unable to mask her true feelings and be gentle towards you, and not let her own pain translate into fury. She had half hoped the interaction would shake some sense into you, but she scoffed and watched as you left.

Alba returned to the booth, immediately having to justify herself when Alexia was in her face, asking why the hell she would let you go so easily.

"Honestly, Ale, what's the use in fighting any longer? At this point I'm just waiting for her to smack face first into the ground to come to her senses, since we've clearly not gotten anywhere with our kind words and gentle coaxing." Alba sat down, head in her hands as she let out a big breath.

"You're letting her go home with some stranger and that doesn't worry you?!"

Alba looked up from her hands and shrugged, no energy left to fight it, "She's an adult. If she thinks she can handle it, then she'll have to handle it. She needs to make mistakes to learn from them." Alba shot back, "And it's not like she'll get pregnant. The only thing you'll have to worry about is her catching some STD, and even that won't be your problem."

Alexia opened her mouth, waving her hands around, feeling incredulous while trying to come up with words. She knew that the longer she waited, you would be one step closer to getting in some cab and starting her downward spiral of worries until you'd text her again, letting her know you were alive.

"I told myself that if she would try to leave with someone, I'd follow her out. She's staying here, and that's final." Alexia darted through the crowd, mind set, ignoring the pleas to stay put. She wasn't going to sit idle and let something happen to you again when she was right there and able to do something about it this time.

"God, she's going to embarrass her, isn't she?" Patri winced, already playing out the scene in her head of Alexia pulling you out of your fling's arms mid-kiss, much like Alba had done just now.

"Y/N's made her bed. Now she must lie in it."

Misa glanced at Alba, who seemed so calm and wise in comparison to merely two minutes ago on the dancefloor. It was as if a switch had been flicked off inside of your sister, as if she had suddenly stopped caring. But Misa knew that could never be it, and she was proven right when Alba's chin wobbled, betraying her true feelings.

When Alexia returned ten minutes later, sporting the same defeated look, she knew your sister had failed in her attempt to stop you.

"I can't find her anywhere. She's gone." She leaned into Olga, accepting the comfort of her arms, "Can I have my phone? I want to text her to stay safe. She needs to know she can call me if something's wrong."

Olga gave her girlfriend a pained smile but grabbed Alexia's phone out of her bag nonetheless.

It hurt so much more to have her phone open in the Candy Crush app, where you'd locked it, the over-the-top pink theme contrasting with her gloomy mood.

Olga perched her chin atop Alexia's shoulder and watched her type a message your way, "We'll be here when she needs us, Ale. That's all we can-"

Alexia jumped in her seat when someone harshly plopped down beside her. Her eyes widened when she witnessed your red-rimmed eyes and quivering chin. You knew how you looked and that, along with your actions from earlier, which you knew they'd all seen, filled you with shame. You didn't dare to look at who else was sitting in the booth to find out who had seen your pitiful display. You didn't even want to think how much of a fool you'd made yourself to be, and how differently they would surely start seeing you now.

"I'm sorry." You croaked out through your old tears, feeling the new ones burn in your eyes.

"Y/N! What the-" Alba perked up in her seat, all anger gone as she reached her arm across the table to get closer to you, hold onto your arm, fingers, your hand, hell- she didn't care. Her hand found yours and she winced at how hard you squeezed.

"Are you okay?!" Alexia asked, the boulder only half lifting off her chest with you beside her. Seeing how distraught you were didn't help. And seeing how hard you were biting into your bottom lip to hide how you were really feeling, hurt her even more.

They all looked at you, waiting for an answer, and once more Misa was made feeling like an intruder by your sudden appearance.

After some long seconds of trying to gain control over the wobble in your throat, you croaked out,

"Her name was Carmen."

Your shoulders shook with the sobs you tried to gently leave your mouth, but you failed massively at hiding them. Feeling looked at, you dropped Alba's hand and hid your face in your hands, muffling the sounds and the sight to any onlooker.

Your sisters' faces fell, knowing the significance of that name and why it had hurt to meet a stranger with the same one. Alexia's strong arm pulled you into her embrace, and it tore at her heart when she felt you push against her hold, not wanting to truly accept her comfort, as if you didn't feel deserving of it after having worried her and not listened to her. She knew it was how you could get- distant and wanting to solve your problems by yourself- but it didn't hurt any less knowing that you didn't want to let go of your sorrows and let your oldest sister hold onto them for you, even if only for a little while.

Realising that the feeling you'd wanted to escape had been put there by a woman with the same name, had tipped you over the edge. As soon as the stranger had asked you your name and had whispered hers in your ear in return, you'd crumbled, pushing yourself out of her arms.

Alba got up and crouched beside the seat, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your leg.

"Laelia, hey- look at me."

You heard Alexia coax, but only pushed your hands further against your face to the brim of suffocating yourself, if your sobs weren't already doing so. The makeup of your eyes was probably caked up in a messy mix right now, but you couldn't care less.

Alba gave a thankful smile to the girls in the booth who got up to excuse themselves, one by one. Alexia gently pried your hands off your face and dapped at your eyes with a napkin.

Your eyes then fell on the drink you'd ordered earlier that night, and you quickly took a few sips. Misa's throat tightened as your eyes locked across the booth. It was as if the drink had made you think of her... had made you look for her. She'd take it. She'd take any thought of her that would pop into your mind, even hoping it would bring you some much-needed distraction in your current state. Misa hated how she was making this situation about her crush on you again, and instantly looked away, waiting for her turn to slide out off the circular bench to give the three sisters some space.

You slurped every last drop out of your glass with the straw, then stood up, resolutely. Your sisters already opened their mouth in protest, but you waved off their worries.

"I need some fresh air. I promise I won't leave. I just- I need to get away from all this noise." You motioned around you but were talking about the chaos in your mind that screamed at you to be heard over the music.

Alexia stood up, but you pushed her back in her seat, not unkindly.

"I want to be alone, Ale."

"Like hell-"

"I don't think you should be alone right now."

But you didn't listen to your sisters' pleas and turned on your heel before they could pull you back.

"She's pushing us out again."

"She'll come back to you when she's ready," Olga was the voice of reason, calming the two down but immediately worrying them again as she added, "But I don't like leaving her alone any more than you two do."

"She's going to get mad again if she sees one of us, though."

Then, that bravery that had been building up all night finally reached its peak when Misa blurted out, "I'm okay with keeping an eye on her, just to make sure nothing happens, you know?"

"Would you do that?" Alba piped up, eyes hopeful and almost begging.

"Yeah," Misa nodded, dead serious, eyes flicking from your disappearing form to your sisters, not wanting to lose you in the crowd.

"Please, if you could?"

"Of course," She squeezed Alexia's arm on her way out of the booth, eyes already on the neon green exit sign high above the dancing crowd.

Outside, people were saying goodbye and calling it a night or having a smoke around you, but you had drowned them out the second you'd sat down on the cold curb. It reeked of spilt beer, cigarettes and urine, and it ripped off your rose-coloured glasses right away. You tugged at your dress, wanting it to cover more of your legs in the chilly night air, but realising you'd have to wrap your arms around yourself to warm you up.

Little, weak and vulnerable — three words that had started to co-exist in your mind whenever you thought of yourself... but that was how you felt. It was the harsh reality, it was who you were, who you'd always been, and you knew your ex had been right when she'd jabbed those words at you time and time again. If you weren't little or weak or vulnerable, you wouldn't be sitting here right now, chest ready to heave with the sobs wanting to come out after having met a stranger with the same fucking name. It was so pathetic, it made you chuckle bitterly.

It had felt like the universe's way of stopping you from making yet another questionable decision, and perhaps, you were glad it had stopped you. You knew you would have felt disgusted with your actions within twelve hours anyway, despite how good it would feel in the moment. However, that also meant you were left with the impending knowledge that you had to deal with your feelings in another way tonight. But how, you didn't know. You weren't good with your feelings. With letting someone in, again, to let them take half of your burden. You knew you'd never trust someone like that ever again. Any situationship or relationship you would have going forward would only ever reach a superficial level until you'd close the prison cell of your heart when they would get too close. You puffed out a breath before breaking down into a shuddering sob. Your back hunched over, and you put your face in your hands.

Misa watched from near the entrance, leaning against the brick wall and playing with a begonia she'd plucked out of one of the decorative flower planters next to her. It was a painful sight to see the girl who had once brightened up her days looking so miserable, and it was even more painful knowing that there was nothing she could do to help. Well, except for keeping an eye out right now, that was. She realised that she had perhaps deliberately decided to turn a blind eye to your agony before, basking in the small blurts of happiness she could see on your face and using them for her own gain, not looking further and realising how scarce those moments were for you nowadays.

You jumped in your seat when a duo of overly drunk boys started to bellow as they were trying to hail a cab. They cursed loudly when another group got to it before them, and sat down on the curb a few metres away from you. One of the boys's eyes wandered across the street, falling onto your shaken form.

"Hey!" He motioned you to come over, and you immediately tore your eyes away from them, blankly staring out into the street.

"Hey, you-" He whistled, and your chest swelled with anger. You gave him the nastiest look you could muster but bristled when they only seemed to snicker at your teary fury. You knew you looked horrible and pathetic, little and weak and vulnerable, but you didn't need to get reminded of that by some fresh-out-of-high-school boys.

You saw one of the boys stand up and you were ready to either scream bloody murder or tear him a new one, but furrowed your brows when they seemed to rethink their decision to approach. At the same time, you saw a shadow loom over you.

Looking up, you watched as Misa stood there, giving them the deathliest glare you'd ever seen. You knew she was a tough one on the field, knew she could be reserved around people she didn't know, you included, but you hadn't thought she'd had it in her to look so menacingly fierce off the pitch. And for what? To, out of all people, save you like some knight in shining armour?

The boys lost their interest in you when a cab stopped in front of them, but Misa hovered close, a safe distance away from you as she contemplated what to do now. She watched as you pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your chin against them. A chill breeze wafted through the street, blowing through the stray hairs that weren't stuck to your tear-stained face. Your refusal to acknowledge her presence after having noticed her, should have made her back off as fast as she'd approached the second she'd smelt trouble, but instead, she stood glued to the pavement. She played with her fingers, contemplating what to do and outweighing every scenario and its consequences. Then, after some agonising moments in thought, she decided it was better to stick with you now, showing you weren't alone and admit to the reason behind her presence, knowing you deserved honesty.

"We didn't want you to be out here by yourself."

You looked up, no trace of your beautiful radiating self to be seen, "I said I wanted to be alone," You sniffled and wiped at your puffy nose, "But thank you." You took a shaky breath, "Lord knows I would have ripped their heads off hadn't you come."

Misa wanted to smile at you still bringing lightheartedness to the conversation in an attempt to either comfort yourself or distract Misa from your true state, but she simply couldn't. Not when you were like this. Deciding she had broken the ice and had committed to it now anyway, she mustered up the last bit of courage and sat down beside you, still a reasonable amount of respectful distance keeping you apart. A little too much distance, for that matter.

"I wouldn't have looked at you differently if you had." She spoke gently, hoping you caught the underlying message in her words— just like she wasn't looking at you any differently now. You were still the most gorgeous girl she'd ever seen and you would still be able to send her insides to mush with one giggle or look.

She twirled the tiny begonia in her fingers. You watched her, looking at her fingers and the flower as a new set of silent tears coated your cheeks. Your eyes widened when, out of the blue, Misa's hand pried a lock of hair off your wet cheeks and placed it behind your ear before gently tucking the tiny flower behind it. She looked at you, truly looked at you, as if she was reading your face to sense what you were feeling. Then she smiled, not out of pity, but out of adoration, as if she could see through the tears and caked makeup and trouble and see the carefree girl you'd always been.

The entire gesture was so tender, something you hadn't been exposed to in a long while, that sobs then wracked your body once more. You didn't even care that your sister's friend was seeing this and would likely pass this along to her, too. You let the tears fall, the energy to keep them in no longer present. You hoped that the girl who'd been so reserved and indifferent around you before, wouldn't bat an eye now either.

Immediately, Misa felt horrified, afraid she'd crossed a boundary that had set off the tears. Her panic intensified when she had no clue what to do, so she figured not to think about it too much and go with her instinct. She put an arm around your shaking form and, when you burrowed into her chest, she felt herself float, despite the wet patch of tears forming on her shoulder and keeping her very much in the moment. Then she blinked, realising once more she was putting her crush over your well-being. Her grip around you tightened and the unbeatable sensation of fierce protection set her face in determination. She realised then that she should've had the balls to do this sooner, preferably when she'd overheard that phonecall all those months ago. You had deserved to be comforted then, too, to feel seen and understood, not alone, but Misa had been too much of a coward and had worried about her secret crush coming out that she'd held back.

"It's... it's okay." She whispered into the air, knowing you could hear her nonetheless with you so closely pressed to her, "You don't have to pretend you're fine."

You clutched at her shirt with your fist, pulling it closer to you, hating how Misa still seemed set to keep a distance between you and didn't let you bury yourself into her chest entirely. You'd never realised the woman had apparently been able to read you so well in her quietness around you, that she knew exactly what you were feeling. Still waters run deep, and she'd surprised you by proving that. It drew out the air of mystery she already had around her, but you felt afraid of what else she'd noticed that you thought no one had. That, along with the realisation of the situation you were in, filled you with shame. You pulled back and wiped at your nose. Your eyes widened in horror when you saw the glittered patch of your eyeshadow now on Misa's t-shirt. Furiously, you wiped at the spot.

Misa couldn't help but take you in, with your hair dishevelled, the flower now almost falling out of it, your cheeks flushed and wet, your eyes bloodshot and your nose stuffy as you wiped at it every few seconds. Pained, tortured and exhausted by it all and still, you were the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen.

She didn't know half of what had went down with you, and with your ex, seeing as your breakup seemed to be the root of your pain. She'd heard enough during the phonecall, though— your quick and panicked muttered apologies, your fear and your weariness. She didn't need to know the rest to still be unable to grapple with why on earth someone could hurt you as much as your ex had. Her eyes turned damp, and it was a surprise when she felt the tears prickle. She wasn't an emotional person, she never cried, except for after a major and critical defeat on the pitch or if she got too angry about things that really mattered. Perhaps this was just such a moment. She became paralysed at the reveal.

Your voice was small, your shoulders hunched and your gaze to your lap as you softly mumbled out an apology. Misa's heart broke then and there, realising you'd been in that position more often than necessary. How often had you resorted to taking the blame to diffuse the situation and survive another day without a fight?

She watched as you slid away from her and tried to keep her tone light, veiling the sting of her heart, "For what? One wash and it's gone."

As if being stung by a bee, you seemed to realise what you were doing. You were letting your walls down to one of Alexia's friends, you were letting someone see you cry, admitting how little, weak and vulnerable you were indeed. You were letting someone take a peak behind the curtain of the confident and put-together woman you usually portrayed to be. You harshly wiped at your face, ruffled your hair and stood up to smooth down your dress.

Flee, flee, flee, flee, flee.

"Tell Ale and Alba that I got a taxi back home."

Misa followed your example and stood up, holding you back by your elbow, gently and with care.

"Let them take you home. Please."

You narrowed your eyes at her, having a hunch that the urgency in her voice didn't just stem from her worry for you, but at the fear of facing your sisters if she let you. It shouldn't have made you feel the way it did, to realise that Misa had only comforted you out of courtesy to your sisters, and not because she wanted to be the one to wrap you in her arms. Feeling a little defensive, you replied a bit too harshly, "I'm not going back in there."

"You don't have to. Let me text them. I'll wait here with you."

You debated it for a while, you truly did, but no. You couldn't step even one foot back into that nightmare of a place. With warm and sweaty bodies brushing against you, the mix of a dozen colognes and eau de perfumes, and the booming sound slapping you across your face. You didn't want this disaster of a night to be drawn out even longer than necessary. You'd learned your lesson in there, and you weren't going to go back in to come to terms with it. Not tonight, anyway.

"No, I'm sorry."

Your heels clicked as you walked the cobblestone street to the nearest taxi. Misa watched, realising she'd fucked up even the simple task of keeping you company. If only she hadn't wrapped you in her arms, maybe you would've waited it out with her. She had a hunch her sudden affection had been the tipping point for your need to run. Her eyes fell to the curb, where the crumpled begonia now lay forgotten. Without another thought, she pulled her wallet from her back pocket and tucked the little flower in between a couple of ten euro bills. Then, she couldn't help but let dread fill her stomach. She'd have to get back in there and tell your sisters what had happened.

Surprisingly, they hadn't taken the news as bad as Misa had expected. She figured it was the fact that Misa had seen you get in the taxi and knowing that no sane person, not even an insane one, your ex, would be waiting on your doorstep at one in the morning. The fact that you'd shared your live location with your sisters and they'd watched the dot move through the city until it arrived at your place, had aided as well.

Plus, as Alexia had added with awareness, "We should've gone after her ourselves. You couldn't know how stubborn she really was."

But Misa'd had a hunch after all the time she'd spent adoring you. It was one of the things she admired. You had a will and mind of your own, not an opinion easily curated by the world around you. You knew what you liked and wanted.

The sisters, including Olga, had decided to call it a night then and there, calling a taxi and driving straight to your apartment, just to make sure. Misa, not really feeling up for any more pretend-partying after all that had happened, had decided to leave as well after trying to stick around for another half hour to not be an ass when Jenni had bought her a new drink.

She hoped that you were safely tucked in your bed right now, ready to let sleep wash away your sorrows, even if it was only for the night.

Much later, she'd find out how wrong she'd really been.

⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ

© 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆.🖤

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬  ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴄᴜʀᴠʏ ɢɪʀʟꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ 𝆬 𓏸

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Fyodor, Nikolai, Poe, Mushitarō, Jōno

warnings: nsfw content, f!reader, some brief mentions of insecurity related to appearance/weight, breeding kink, pregnancy mentions, thigh fucking, body worship,

DAZAI is touchy on a good day and outright clingy on a bad one; really, it's only natural that he can't — won't — keep his hands to himself, spindly fingers caressing your every curve, no matter where you are or who else is there. Still, his obvious attraction to you only proves that, to him, you're drop-dead gorgeous, right? You can't be mad at him for being enamoured with his own girlfriend, yes? (You can and, in fact, you should be mad when he keeps on groping you or pulling you into the Agency's storage room for some quick dry humping, completely unashamed.)

In case you ever worry about not being worthy of being with him — which, really, isn't a reasonable concern, given how, according to Kunikida, you're a saint for even putting up with Dazai for that long —, he's quick to cut your concerns down with a gentle chuckle. He's fond of all women, he's said so before, and he doesn't get why you'd ever compare yourself to any other woman and think of yourself as less worthy, less gorgeous, when, obviously, you're this breathtaking.

“But why, dear, you're being awfully cruel today, slapping my hands away like that. It's merely because you're so awfully pretty that I cannot keep my hands off you. At least let me kiss you, yes, love?”

It doesn't come as a surprise that CHŪYA literally worships you; to him, you're perfect in every way imaginable. He's able to pick you up and carry you around easily, even without activating For The Tainted Sorrow; when you worry about being too heavy, he merely scoffs, immediately shaking his head in response.

He's just shy of insulted when you ask, voice trembling, whether your stretch marks, thick thighs or round hips bother him; really, who do you take him for? He's not twelve — and even if he was, he'd still think of you as breathtaking, appearance- and personality-wise. If you don't seem to believe him, he'll gladly spend an hour or three between your legs, pressing soft kisses to your skin, not forgetting about even one stretch mark, scar or beauty mark you might be insecure about. If, by the end of him all but worshipping your body, you finally do believe him, he'll gladly make you come on his tongue, too.

“Hm? You still don't look quite convinced, baby. 'm afraid I'll have to continue, then. Gotta make sure you know just how pretty I think you are by the end of this, so I'll need you to be patient.”

FUKUZAWA is not the most expressive man, and yet he somehow manages to make sure that you never feel unloved. His adoration for you is obvious in the way his hands gently rest on your upper arm, on the small of your back or on your hip sometimes; in the way he occasionally leans down to gently press his lips to your forehead; in the way he somehow manages to pick up on each of your moods without you having to say something.

His brows furrow into a frown when you first mention your insecurities, and yet his expression softens oh so much when he cups your cheek with one hand, calloused thumb smoothing over your jaw in a soothing gesture. He's so very factual about immediately naming everything that, in his eyes, makes you beautiful, that you really have no choice but to believe him. To get you to smile once more, he adds but a few unexpectedly lewd comments, too, such as how you're absolutely ethereal looking when undressed and on his lap, too.

“My dearest, I assure you, your beauty, inside and out, has captured my heart completely. I adore the way your hair shines, I love the sparkle in your eye when you spot a dessert you're aching to eat. I love each curve of your body and how beautiful and feminine it makes you look; truly, there is nothing about you that is not breathtaking to me.”

Despite KUNIKIDA's rather strict ideals, his note book never held even a single word about your appearance; your personality is what matters most to him, your opinions and what you think is right and what is wrong, not whether your stomach shows in the dress you just bought. You're the most beautiful woman on the planet in his eyes and, even though he's just a bit irritated when you doubt the truthfulness of his words, his frown melts when his gaze meets yours.

He'll gladly tell you just how much he's in love with everything about you, in great detail, even — how gorgeous your hair is, how he's feeling nothing but utmost adoration for your thighs, how your stomach and arms are pure perfection —, and his voice is so utterly earnest that you have no choice but to trust that he's more than one hundred percent serious about it.

“I promise you with complete honesty that you have nothing to be worried about. Please, my love — you're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. You're perfect in every way imaginable. Please trust me when I say that I adore everything about you.”

FYODOR is rather enamoured with your curves; how could he not be? Your softer figure contrasts nicely to his own thin body, gentle roundness compared to his sharp angles, and, whenever his fingers gently graze over your skin, he doesn't have to worry about meeting hard bone — everything about you is soft and plush. Admittedly, he is fond of pretty people, which is why he's quick to raise an eyebrow if you ever mention any insecurity related to your appearance, not hesitating to tell you that, in his eyes, you look ethereal at all times, and some stretch marks or anything you could possibly worry about won't change that.

He appreciates your hips most of all; the pleasant roundness of them ties into his breeding kink and, really, you can't possibly blame him for thinking of starting a family with you when you're this enticing, now can you? Short blunt nails dig into said curves when he thrusts into you, his narrow hips flush against your plush ones, your knees nearly brushing against your shoulders with the mating press he's positioned you in and, yes, he'll make sure to fill you up at least two times tonight while soft praise falls from pale lips, something about how pretty you are, how very gorgeous.

“My, my, how lucky I am to have such a pretty woman by my side, hm? Your moans are so very sweet, dear. Do me a favour and do not try to hide yourself from me, darling; you are most beautiful — always, yet especially right now.”

NIKOLAI, as always, is a menace when it comes to showing his affection for you. Really, he refuses to be blamed for the way his hands wander on your pretty body, exploring each inch of it, no matter whether you're in public or in private. He's not one to be shy, after all, and you shouldn't be either — though, well, if you do get flustered by him outright groping you all the time, he'll certainly tease you for it. You're just so soft and pleasant to touch, honestly, he has no choice but to!

He most enjoys resting his hand on your hip or your butt, laying his head down onto your chest or grabbing the soft flesh of your thighs. Speaking of thighs — surely you'll indulge him when he aches to fuck them, yes? The feeling of your inner thighs squeezing his dick is as close to heaven as he's ever going to get. He doesn't get why you'd ever be insecure about your appearance; you're the prettiest little thing he's ever laid eyes on, don't you know? Luckily, he doesn't hesitate to all but overload you with compliments, albeit some of them eventually go back into lewd territory with how he's swooning about your tight little cunt—

“You're so very sweet, doll—, to think you yourself don't see just how adorable you are, hah! How could you be anything but perfect when you're mewling so cutely underneath me? Ah—, my, my, perhaps I should tell you this later when you're not aching to come, hm? Bet you can hardly understand a word of what I'm saying right now.”

First and foremost, POE has fallen for you mainly because of your personality — it's merely what matters most to him. That, however, doesn't mean that he is not appreciative of your body; really, it's quite the opposite. Even though the compliments falling from his lips sound oh so eloquent, he honestly struggles to focus on anything but your curves, on the way the fabric of your clothes hugs your body just right, on the way he just aches to touch you, even though the mere thought gets him flustered.

Pink quickly rises to his face, flushing his cheeks with heat when he gets too caught up in fantasies, whether they're sweet and domestic or of more lewd nature. Even though you're in a relationship, he can't help but scold himself internally for the way his brain stutters to a complete halt just at the sight of your plush thighs. If you ever doubt yourself, he's awfully understanding, his tone soft while he reassures you that you're perfect in every way imaginable — he's not unfamiliar with self-doubt himself, and he wants to make sure you're aware that his love for you is absolutely unconditional.

“Trust me, my dear, I know how you feel, and it pains me to see you unhappy. Please—, you're gorgeous in every way. Each time I look at you I fall in love all over again. Please, trust my words, yes? If there's anything I can do to help raise your confidence, please tell me. Would you enjoy going shopping, perhaps?”

Your mere existence causes MUSHITARŌ suffering. Really, how is he supposed to concentrate on some surely awfully important task when you, his sweet sweet girlfriend, are next to him, forcing all his attention onto you just by being present? You're just so pretty today — today and every day —, he's able to feel his cheeks flush with heat just from glancing at you for too long, and he's really unsure just how much longer he's able to fight the urge to kiss you.

If you ever mention anything about feeling insecure about your appearance or weight, he's honestly caught off-guard. For some reason, he didn't expect you to worry about anything like that; not when, in his eyes, there's nothing for you to worry about. His first instinct, when you mention how, occasionally, you feel like you're too round and soft and your arms and stomach might be too big, is to scoff, though he's quick to apologise for his rather rude reaction. He's never been good at comforting people, and yet he tries, a little awkwardly, that he has never seen anyone quite as angelic as you before.

“Now—, love, please, quit looking all sad, will you? My apologies for my terrible reaction. This was merely a topic I did not expect — truly, whenever I look at you, I could swear an angel has descended from Heaven just for me, and yet you doubt yourself. I really don't understand it, but I assure you there is nothing you must feel insecure about.”

While JŌNO, on a purely logical level, understands why you might occasionally be insecure about your body, he, in all honesty, also does not get it. To him, you're nothing short of gorgeous; your skin is soft and smooth underneath his calloused hands whenever he touches you, your hips are plush when he holds you by them, and he might just instinctively chuckle the first time you meekly ask whether something as unimportant as stretch marks on your skin bothers him. Really, who do you think he is? Some prepubescent boy? Honestly, now; your concerns are ridiculous enough to make him huff out a laugh.

Your body is the perfect contrast to his own taut muscle and, even though he doesn't openly admit it, he quite enjoys how soft you are, how gentle, and how he's able to lay his head onto your thighs or chest to relax, hair falling into his eyes while you run your fingers through white and red strands. Being this close to you is the most comforting thing he's ever known; it feels like — you feel like — coming home.

“Haven't I already told you you're perfectly fine the way you are? I wouldn't have fallen for you otherwise. Besides, my opinion is the only one that has to matter to you, right? There's no reason for you to keep worrying about it, then.”

@yuuotosaka3 @double-black-dazai @alice0blog @fyodorstolenushanka @ttaiyaki @itsnovariella @black-rose-29 @fyodorscumsock @ayshaashaya @qxxstuff @serenareiss @atsvsh1 @dilucshandholder @reiikonee @1-800-mocha @xvocadooo @hexiisexii @cupxfcxffee @jodidann

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@Senpaible @hyunlixie143 @violet-19999 @dababyurmom

[narraboths]

i'd like to think you could just walk into a diner in national city and see supergirl (costume and all, no fucks given) and lena luthor making out like teenagers in a corner booth

[Ao3]

The first time Supergirl comes to The Intergalactic, she’s thrown straight through its glass doors by a giant space lizard.

It’s really not how Ellie imagined meeting the city’s superhero. It’s not that she thought she’d actually ever meet Supergirl, least of all at work. Tucked away in a side-street near National City University and surviving in a cramped space, with minimal staff, and decor left from the beginning of the Space Age, The Intergalactic mostly sees harried college students and late-night party-goers in need of some fuel. Alien attacks and billowing capes are usually not on the menu.

She has no time to be disappointed by the circumstances of their chance meeting, though. She cannot feel anything beyond absolute terror, really, given the giant space lizard that just made the Girl of Steel demolish their sleepy burger joint’s entrance.

But then, Supergirl climbs back to her feet as she always does, shoulders squared, arms raised, ready to fight. She winces a little at the damage, shooting an apologetic smile towards Ellie before she’d fly up up and away, dragging the lizard into the sky with her. The sight of it is so fucking cool that for a second, Ellie is even distracted from the absolute wreckage around her.

(Then, her shoes almost catch fire and she’s brought back to the cold, hard, rubble-covered ground of reality.)

Later, when the news reports are loud with praise for another successful Super-save, and Ellie has managed to sweep up most of the broken glass and endured a hysterical call from her boss, Supergirl touches down in front of their doors again.

“Hello,” she waves with a little smile. She still has soot marks on her face, but she stands tall, impossibly dashing. “I’m very sorry for the commotion,” she says, before Ellie could even process the fact that the hero of National City is at her doorstep, again, engaging with her in casual conversation. “I just wanted to check in and see if everyone here was alright.”

“You just fought with an alien lizard,” Ellie blurts out, and Supergirl shrugs, in a hey, just another day on the job kinda way.

“Dracokardosian, actually. Doesn’t matter,” she adds quickly, then plants her hands on her hips. The Super-pose. It makes her shoulders seem even wider, the fabric of her suit straining against her upper arms. Ellie feels giddy. “Listen, I’ll make sure you’ll be reimbursed for the damage, but can I lend a hand with anything?”

“We’re fine, I think. It’s only the storefront that got hit– that you hit. No great damage, no injuries.” Supergirl smiles with palpable relief, and Ellie feels the need to ramble on, to keep her there, to bask in the glory of the superhero a little longer. The smell of still-hot frying oil wafting from the kitchen gives her the prompt before she’d even think about it. “Would you like a burger?”

Supergirl looks at her with a confused frown.

“Aren’t you guys closed up yet?”

“I mean, it’s not like we can really close right now,” Ellie shrugs, gesturing towards the gaping hole where the diner’s entrance used to be. It earns an amused little snort from Supergirl, just enough of a boost for Ellie to press on, heart beating in her throat. “Plus, you’re the only reason the place is still standing at all and I’d really like to be able to brag about having served Supergirl, like how many places get to do that?“

“Well, there’s this great patisserie on Lamarr Ave,” Supergirl says, forehead crinkling in concentration as she mulls over the answer. “And then my regular Chinese place, and this café in Paris–” She cuts herself off with a grin. “Okay, point taken. I would love one. But mind if I fix your door in the meantime?”

Ellie nods so vehemently that she gives herself a headrush.

“It’s a deal.”

Supergirl touches a hand to her earpiece, speaking low and incomprehensible before she’d speed away again and Ellie saunters off to the kitchen.

Inside, Jay is half-napping over the sink. He wakes from his slumber with dark, bleary eyes and stares in disbelief as Ellie rattles off the order, until she tells him it’s for Supergirl. He laughs first (yeah, and I’m the Virgin Mary), then takes a peek outside where Supergirl now busy welding the new doors using her heat vision, with a swarm of nanites hovering nearby for assistance. She stops for a second to wave at them: Ellie feels her heart fluttering and Jay gets all red and sweaty, rushing back to the kitchen and getting to it with such dedication as if the diner making it into the Michelin Guide depended on it.

By the time he’s done, The Intergalactic is sporting a brand new, shiny pair of doors, and Supergirl is sitting in a booth, excitedly drumming on a table with her fingers. Then, one burger swiftly turns into three, plus six sides of fries, two milkshakes, and some fried onions for good measure, Supergirl wolfing it all down at a speed fitting her superhuman appetite. She still finds the time to entertain Ellie and Jay with details of her fight between bites (his name is Spike, he was just scared), joking around with them with such geniality that makes her seem more like one of the nicer jocks from NCU, not a demigod in a supersuit. She’s sunshine personified. She compliments the food about half a dozen times (Jay blushes so hard that his face ends up looking like a ripe tomato), leaves a tip large enough to foot the bill twice, and even though it’s nearing midnight by the time she steps outside, Ellie feels a heavy pang in her heart to watch her leave. Supergirl smiles and waves them goodbye, and Ellie manages to run outside just as she takes off, yelling after her: 

“See you again!”

She thinks she can see Supergirl wink at her before she speeds away.

-

The second time Supergirl visits the diner, it’s been well over a month since the space lizard incident, and Ellie has honestly given up on ever seeing the Girl of Steel in person again. It’s just past the mid-day rush, the diner mostly emptied out, the staff finally getting a breather. She’s busy cleaning the tables in the back when Lev walks up to her, poking her arm.

“Hey, am I tripping, or is that really Supergirl?”

Ellie turns around at lightning speed, just in time to catch Supergirl leaning against the empty counter with a friendly smile.

"Can I get a booth?” She asks, courteously ignoring the way Lev’s jaw is hanging wide open. “Your burgers smell so fantastic, my mouth has been watering all the way from Metropolis.”

Ellie’s shaking with so much nervous energy that she thinks she might start vibrating like the Flash.

“Make yourself comfortable wherever, I’ll be right with you!”

-

Supergirl is, well, just super. 

Her visits to The Intergalactic are infrequent enough that the place doesn’t get hounded by paps, or Super-fans, or any villain of the week; arriving almost always in off-hours, when the place is almost as empty as the street outside. But her appearances are plenty enough for every single member of the staff to fall head over heels in love with her. She turns out to be just as ridiculously kind and nice as the CatCo fluff pieces would have the public believe: always praising the food, being as courteous with the staff as she is game to take selfies with them. She chats with Lev about their college studies, gives Ellie an air-lift when her car breaks down one night. She makes people smile just by walking through the door.

She’s the best part of the job.

-

When Supergirl turns up with Lena Luthor at her side one day, Ellie’s already so used to the outlandishness of their superhero regular that she’s only moderately shaken to see the most notorious public figure of National City striding into the diner with her.

She still almost bites down on her tongue and trips over, because holy shit, Lena Luthor is a sight. There’s always a touch of unreal about Supergirl’s appearance – maybe it’s the suit, maybe it’s the knowledge that she’s an alien, maybe it’s the fact that she always looks like she’s glowing from the inside. Her towering physique and artfully drawn features are awing, but they also seem just right for a superhero.

But Lena Luthor is only an ordinary human, and no ordinary human, all-powerful CEO or not, should look like a Greek goddess personified.

Ellie is so engrossed that she doesn’t even notice at first how Supergirl’s hand is resting on the small of Miss Luthor’s back, how they’re standing so close that their shoulders brush together, Lena Luthor leaning just slightly against the hero.

“Quaint,” she murmurs, low and amused, and though there’s nothing unkind about it, Ellie’s suddenly very aware of how pristine she looks in the middle of their greasy little diner. (Shit, her clothes must be worth more than the whole place.) But then, before she could get flustered, Supergirl snorts, bumping Miss Luthor’s shoulder with a grin.

“Don’t knock it till you try it.”

Their rapport is so charming that at first, it doesn’t even register with Ellie how downright smitten Lena Luthor’s smile is in response to Supergirl’s teasing.

-

Lena Luthor turns out to be super in her own ways. She’s more reserved than Supergirl, more guarded about her appearances, too, but disarmingly nice all the same. The tabloid headlines screaming ice queen and megalomaniac seem more and more ridiculous with every visit – there’s very little that says Mad Luthor about the small, overworked young woman who makes a point of asking about her day and leaves large enough tips that they can refit the whole kitchen with it and fix up the back room.

They keep odd hours those days, though, popping in for early morning coffees, or late, late night snacks. They share a plate more often than not, and the sight of Supergirl stealing a bite off of Lena Luthor’s fork becomes somewhat of a regular occurrence. (In no particular order, so does the following: Lena Luthor’s head resting on Supergirl’s shoulders, eyes fluttered shut; Supergirl leaning forward a little so Lena Luthor can press a goodbye kiss to her cheek before the superhero would fly off with a grin; Lena Luthor wiping some grease from the corner of Supergirl’s mouth with an indescribably fond smile).

It starts feeling like something that’s just meant to be.

-

Ellie doesn’t know whether it’s their first kiss or not when she witnesses it.

She’d never want to pry, either. It’s only by accident that she sees it happen at all. But she does see it, late one night, when Supergirl and Miss Luthor are huddled together in one of the booths in the back.

They look a little tired now – Supergirl’s cape is half off her shoulder, Lena Luthor’s hair let down and a touch messy, jarringly for her usually so put-together appearance – but sweet, too, as they always do, and utterly enamored. Supergirl’s hand is cradling Lena’s chin, Lena’s hands are buried in her golden mane, their lips pressing together gently, both of them smiling radiantly, lost in their own world. Then Lena presses forward a little, pushing Supergirl against her seat, and Ellie turns away with a burning face and starts scrubbing a table so hard that she risks putting a hole through the damn thing, trying to pretend she didn’t hear the breathless, overjoyed laugh echoing through the empty room.

-

It is, strictly speaking, not an issue that National City’s power couple has picked your place of work to be their makeout spot. Supergirl’s still the nicest person alive and Miss Luthor’s tipping habits have only grown more generous. They just take the booth that’s the farthest in the back, Ellie tries not to bother them too much, and if someone catches a glimpse of a red cape or a striking jawline, an emphatic glare and Just be cool, man usually does the trick.

Heroes, they’re just like us.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

I just got the best idea! Vampire villain with a strong moral code who refuses to feed on blood, making themselves weak with hunger. Hero notices and purposefully cuts their finger on villain's fang to get them to eat🤍

The villain had never thought they could be overpowered by a human. It was terrifying to say the least.

Once the blood was in their mouth and the hero's hand off their throat, the villain started to suck on the hero's finger involuntarily. The instinct was ancient, something older than the vampire themselves. They had forgotten how good fresh blood tasted.

However, they could collect themselves pretty quickly.

"You're stupid," the vampire whispered. "You had a perfect physical advantage. You could have killed me..."

"Take more," the hero said, pushing their finger into the villain's mouth quick enough to make them gag. This time, the villain grabbed their enemy's wrist and nearly pushed them off their hips.

"I'm good," they said through gritted teeth. The vampire didn't really enjoy it when the hero was so adamant about absolutely everything they did. The hero always found a way to get what they wanted. They were a pain in their ass. Annoying and heroic.

"You're still pale," the hero said. "Interesting..."

They pushed the villain's chin up and managed to slip one finger under the villain's upper lip, lifting it to examine the villain's fangs as if they were a doctor.

"I am a vampire," the villain reminded them. "Sunlight doesn't turn me to ashes but the sunburns are out of this world."

"And you are sure you are fine?" the hero asked. They turned the villain's head to the right and then to the left, continuing their examination. Christ, they even put their hand on the villain's chest to search for a heartbeat.

"I'm great, just - get off, will you?" The hero stood up but the villain still needed a moment. They feared they would pass out again if they stood up.

They looked around the room but there was nothing. No furniture. Just a door that looked like it couldn’t be opened from the inside.

What a joke.

"You know," the hero said, hands on their hips, "this is actually quite interesting. I certainly didn't expect my dear nemesis to end up in the same cell as me. I guess they wanted you to eat me. A little grotesque if you ask me."

"But not too far-fetched," the villain said. They pushed themselves up but ended up leaning against the wall. "Hunger turns everyone into an animal."

"You still don't look too good," the hero said. Once again, they kneeled beside the villain. Their hand raked through the villain's hair and stopped on their forehead.

The villain didn't know why the hero was always so touchy. They never crossed any boundaries and the villain actually welcomed those soft hands on them, but still...it was strange. Strange to feel someone's warm skin on theirs like this.

"How much blood do you usually drink?"

"God, I don't know...I'm trying to quit." The hero stared at them. The silence was uncomfortable and the villain didn't know if they had said something wrong.

Then the hero huffed.

"And you say I'm the stupid one." They rolled their eyes. "So, severe undernourishment, I guess. That's why you're so weak."

"Ey, I am alright-"

"Which makes this even more baffling. What is an undernourished vampire doing in a supervillain facility?"

"What is an annoying hero doing here?"

"Saving a dumb vampire, apparently."

"Ugh. I was experimented on," the villain said. The hero had probably saved their life. That was something the villain certainly did not want to think about. Gosh, the hero was so annoying with their caring nature and their stupid curiousness. When they looked at the hero, though, they looked horrified. "No, all of it was voluntary. I got some money for it in return. Nothing bad, really."

"I got caught when I tried to steal some documents. They weren't that nice to me." The hero lifted their shirt and the villain saw two giant fresh bruises. The hero's ribs were definitely damaged.

"Shit..." the villain mumbled. "Scoot over. Are you okay?"

They let their fingers ghost over the hero's skin. Unsurprisingly, the hero flinched and threw their head back, cursing quietly.

"Looks broken. We need to get you out of here," the villain said.

"Wait, the experiments...they knew you were trying to quit with the blood?" the hero asked. They let their shirt fall down again but the villain couldn't help but think about the bruises.

Their own injuries healed pretty quickly. But they had totally forgotten that this would take days, maybe even weeks for the hero to get better. Humans were so fragile. They feared the hero could fall apart any second.

"...yeah, they encouraged it even."

"Great," the hero said. "This is the next phase of their experiments, then."

The villain stared at them. They thought they were on rather good terms with the company.

"Wait, you don't mean..."

"Yup. They really want to see if you'll eat me," the hero said. "Which also means we are definitely under surveillance."

[amhrosina]

Good Girls Get Rewarded

Summary: Frank gets tired of you running your mouth and decides to remind you who's in charge. Smutty antics follow.

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.5k (holy shit!!!!)

masterlist // join my taglist

a/n: im not ashamed to admit that this fic is the only thing i thought about for three days straight. please enjoy. it is an absolute smut-fest!

warnings: buckle the fuck up bitches, cursing (obvi), all porn no plot, oral (male & fem receiving), fingering, pet names!!!!!, p in v sex, praise kink, size kink a little??, frank is so mean at first lmfao, lots of teasing, spanking, frank gets called sir a lot lmfao, reader is a brat, physical violence (this does not transfer to the smut!!!), i am probably forgetting so many pls let me know what i need to add!

“How’d you get this number?”

Frank’s familiar rasp was even more apparent over the phone, a tingling revelation that sent a shiver up your spine. He was in a sour mood, and you were itching for a fight. It was the perfect way to end your evening.

“Oh, c’mon, Frankie. You know I can get whatever I want whenever I want.”

“How could I forget you’re such a spoiled princess, huh? The fuck you want, princess?”

He spat the last word at you as if it were an insult. Good. He was angry, too.

“Did I catch you at a bad time? I was just admiring these pretty curtains. They designer?”

Annoyed resolve rang through in Frank’s tone as he replied. “You know I don’t know what you’re talking about. You gonna make me ask?”

“Sure, honey. I think you’ll want to know the answer.”

You smirked, eyes roaming the living room you were currently standing in the middle of. If only Frank could see you now.

He huffed. “What curtains?”

“These blue ones in your living room. Did you pick them out, or was it that Karen Page with her over-eagerness to please you?”

“You leave her the fuck out of this.” He paused, and you smirked at yourself in the mirror as the realization of what you’d said was processed fully by Frank. “You’re in my fuckin’ house? What the hell is wrong with you?”

He was already moving. Even if you hadn’t been able to hear the hitches in his breath as he barreled his way across Hell’s Kitchen, you’d know he was coming. Your plan was working. You were ecstatic.

“Cat got your tongue, princess?”

“Clever.” You hummed, running your tongue over your teeth. Since you’d first met Frank, he’d managed to throw a cat pun in your direction during every interaction you’d had. He claimed it was because the newspapers were calling you the Black Cat, but you thought it probably had something to do with the latex suit you wore. He never could keep his eyes off the curve of your hips. “Lazy, but clever, I suppose. I’ll allow it, considering the spontaneity of this phone call.”

“How kind of you.” Frank spat, and you resisted the urge to giggle over the phone. He had to be getting close, now. He’d come bursting through the door at any second. Your muscles were giddy with the thought of finally being challenged.

“You know I love chatting with you, darling, but I’ve got to run. I have a thing. Ta-ta!”

You hung up the phone, placing it on the counter and angling yourself so that you could see the front door. You weren’t exactly sure how angry he’d be that you broke into his house, but you wanted to at least seem like you had the upper hand when he charged through the door. You waited, anticipation building until you could no longer stay still. You began to pace, nervous and giddy at the same time, and of course, if you’d just been a little more patient and quiet, you probably would’ve heard the creak of the window opening behind you.

You didn’t realize Frank Castle was standing directly behind you until you backed into him. Your heart thundered in your chest, realizing exactly who was behind you and how he’d managed to perfectly out-do you in your own plan. The hands around your throat shouldn’t have been a surprise.

“It’s fuckin’ rude to break into people’s houses, princess.”

He pulled your body fully against his, attempting to wrap his arm around your neck from behind to pull you into a chokehold. You were a tricky little kitten, though, and you slipped out of his grasp almost as easily as you’d waltzed through his door earlier. Maybe he let you out. Maybe he was curious about your unprompted visit, too.

“You’re one to talk. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to grab a lady like that?”

He snorted. “Lady? Someone confuse you with someone less bitchy?”

“I’ll have you know, I am perfectly fucking civil to most people.” You assured him, jutting your chin out in defiance.

“We really doing this?” He ran his hand over the stubble on his jaw. You eyed the movement and shrugged.

“Eat your fuckin’ heart out, honey.”

You both lunged for each other, your leg rising to connect with his stomach before his fist could connect with your face. He sprang back, unharmed but winded, and caught your leg before it could connect with his chest. You were suddenly on your back, having been thrown off balance by Frank, who was pushing most of his weight down on your hips to keep you from thrashing beneath him.

“You’re rusty, kid.” His eyes were bright and fiery, a combination you’d grown accustomed to during these bouts. You brought your forehead to his chin in a headbutt that would’ve knocked anyone else out completely. Frank, unfortunately, was just dazed for a moment, blinking the confusion out of his eyes before you could make much leeway against his ridiculously strong hold on your hips.

You were, however, able to wiggle one of your legs out from underneath him, giving you the perfect opportunity to pull Frank into an armbar.

“You’re old.” You smirked. Old or not, the best thing about fighting Frank was how incredibly resilient he was. No matter who ended up on top at the end of the night, your pent-up energy was always spent.

He resisted the pull into your hold, though the only other direction for him to go was on top of you. Your breath rushed out of you as he landed directly on top of your lungs, your grip on his arm loosening enough for him to roll away from you.

“Real cute, princess. You break into my house, and now you’re trying to what? Hurt me?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes as you coughed and remained on his kitchen floor. He really had landed hard, but you were playing the long game. “Good fucking luck. I’m not an idiot, in case you were wondering. You can stop the act.”

“You sure about that?” You rolled to your feet, pulling your hands into fists and holding them up to block your face. He rolled his eyes again, and even though he looked relaxed - unready, even - he caught your fist before it could connect with his jaw.

“You learn that on TV, princess?”

Your brow furrowed in anger. He was annoyingly good at reading your body language now.

“Actually,” you smiled up at him, face so close to his chest that you could nearly feel his thundering heartbeat, “I learned it from your mom.” You punctuated your insult with a swift knee to Frank’s groin. “I win.”

He hunched forward and you let him fall to his knees on the linoleum flooring. It was a low blow, but you weren’t in the mood to fight fair. He never did, anyway. You pushed yourself onto the counter, watching him breathe through the worst of the pain. You were an asshole, sure, but you weren’t the type to kick a man when he was down.

“You’re a fucking menace.” He grunted, nostrils flaring with anger when he took in your relaxed posture on the counter.

“Oh, please, Frank. It’s not like you fuckin’ use the thing.” You rolled your eyes, flipping your hand through the air in the universal sign for “whatever”.

His gaze shifted from anger to something you couldn’t quite place. You’d seen the look on his face before, but you’d never been able to figure out exactly what he was thinking during those moments. He tilted his head and rose to his feet, keeping his eyes trained on your face. Predator stalking prey. Goosebumps broke out on your skin.

“What was that, princess?” He stalked closer to you, and you were suddenly very aware how cornered you were in this position. To make a hasty escape you’d somehow have to catapult yourself over Frank’s shoulder or burst through what you guessed was a solid block of drywall beside you.

You swallowed thickly. “I said, it’s not like you use the thing.”

Frank’s eyes were bright with delight. Coupled with the teasing smile on his face and the slight tilt of his head, you were a little frightened.

“And you’d know that, how?” He taunted, stepping closer to you. He was in your space now, close enough to touch.

“I know a lot of things, Frankie.” You desperately grasped at the semblance of control you had left. “I know where you live, I know what you order every morning from that diner around the corner, and I know for sure that you. Don’t. Fuck.”

“Oh yeah?” Frank was leaning on the counter now, hands pressed into the granite on either side of your hips. “You think I can’t handle myself in bed, princess? Wanna try it out for yourself?”

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me.”

You didn’t know why you’d said it, or where it came from. Frank Castle was not the man to play games with, especially not these types of games. In actuality, you had no idea who the man was fucking or how often it was happening. You hadn’t expected him to rise to the challenge when you’d teased him about it.

“Is that right, princess?” His eyes gleamed with desire, and you finally realized what the look on his face meant. “Wanna bet?”

He pressed himself fully against you, the hardness of him apparent through his jeans. Your breath hitched against the column of your throat, and you swallowed thickly. You couldn’t deny the steady pounding between your legs, and you slightly widened your legs to allow him more room.

“Yes or no, princess? Wanna learn a thing or two?” His lips ghosted over yours, tongue darting out to lightly lick your top lip in a teasing, playful motion.

Your expectations for the night had been drastically different than this. You’d planned on a physical fight, maybe a black eye or two, and a slew of insults that you’d giggle about until you saw him again. You had not been expecting…this. Whatever this is. They probably existed, but you couldn’t think of a single reason why this might be a bad idea, so you leaned into the feeling that had been steadily growing in your core, and slammed your lips against his.

He groaned, immediately plunging his tongue into your mouth in a desperate, aching kiss. Your teeth clashed against his, but neither of you seemed to notice.

“Fuck, princess.” He mumbled against your lips, angling your chin so that he could pepper kisses down your jaw and onto your throat. You panted, pawing at his shoulders as he nipped the sensitive skin below your ear. “You gonna be good for me?”

“I’m not good for anyone.” You tried and failed to sound feisty. Instead, it came out in a mixture of a whine and a moan.

“You can be good for me, kitten. I won’t tell anyone.” His hands ghosted over the bottom of your shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. He didn’t lift it up yet, and he probably wouldn’t, you realized, until you offered him some kind of consent.

“Only if you ask nicely.” You teased, brushing your lips over his jaw.

He snorted. “That ain’t happenin’.”

A feline grin made its way across your face. “I know.”

He gripped your jaw tightly, forcing you to look up at him as he leaned in close and whispered, “You’re going to be good for me, you fucking brat. Don’t make me say it again.”

Warm delight flooded your stomach, and even though it went against what you believed in, you nodded. You couldn’t think of a single thing you would rather be doing.

“Good girls get rewarded, kitten.” He adjusted his grip on your jaw, sliding his fingers further down your neck. He toyed with the hem of your shirt again, tugging it slightly so that you arched into his chest. “Can I take this off, sweet girl, hmm?” He hummed, running his tongue across your bottom lip.

You nodded again, and the hand around your neck flexed with displeasure.

“I kiss you for thirty seconds and your big mouth suddenly knows how to shut up?” He pinched your hip, eliciting a yelp from your unassuming mouth.

“Fuck yo-”

“Careful.” He warned, arching an eyebrow at you. “Use your words, kitten. I know you know how to be sweet. Be sweet to me.” His lips ghosted over yours, breath fanning across your flushed cheeks. “Can. I. Take. This. Off?” He punctuated each word with a slight squeeze of his hand, still wrapped around your throat.

“Yes.” You breathed, dipping your chin in a single nod.

“Yes…?” He cooed, close enough for you to see the amusement glittering in his eyes. The fucker was enjoying this entirely too much. Still, your core hadn’t stopped pounding since he’d cornered you, and you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t incredibly turned on by this, by him. You gave in to his question, as much as it hurt your stubborn heart to do so.

“Yes, sir.” You clenched your teeth around the word ‘sir’.

“See? That wasn’t so hard was it?”

“Or should I call you master? Or daddy? Or maybe punisher? You gonna punish me, dadd-”

His hand clamped over your mouth, cutting you off before you could continue.

“Shut the fuck up. You just can’t help yourself, can you? You’re such a fucking brat.” He pulled your hips flush against his, and you bit your lip to stifle the moan making its way up your throat. He leaned in, centimeters away from your lips as he whispered, “You want to be punished, kitten, hmm? I can do that.”

You were suddenly pulled off the counter and roughly thrown over Frank’s shoulder. The swiftness in his movements made you yelp, anger coursing through your blood at his man-handling.

“Fuck you, Frank.” You gritted your teeth.

His only response was a swift slap to your backside, which was nestled directly over his shoulder.

“You can’t just throw me around like a doll!” You protested, though you did nothing to try and wiggle your way out of his grasp. The man-handling was making you a little hot and bothered, but you wouldn’t be admitting that anytime soon.

“Oh yeah? Watch me.” He grunted as he threw you down on his bed, grasping your legs and pulling you down the mattress until he was towering over you again. He brushed your hair out of your face, a gentle gesture that juxtaposed the usual ferocity of your meetings. His thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, and before you could think twice about it, you opened your mouth and began sucking on it. A grunt, a smirk, the subtle desire lurking behind his intense gaze - all of it was incredibly sensual. “Should’ve known the sweetness wouldn’t last. You’re a brat, through and through, kitten.” You replaced the sweet caress of your tongue around his finger with your teeth, softly biting down on the tip of his thumb in response.

“I like it though.” He mumbled quietly, more to himself than to you. His gaze coasted down your body, catching on the swell of your breasts and the curve of your hips. He looked back at you, having come to a silent decision. “I’m gonna give you another chance, kitten. Does that sound okay, baby, hmm? I want to make you feel good, alright? All you have to do is be good. That’s it. Can you do that for me? Can you be good for me?”

You blinked up at him, his frame so wide above you that it was almost sinful.

“I can be good for you.” You responded slowly, relinquishing your hold on his thumb. He quirked an eyebrow at you, and you quickly added, “I can be good for you, sir.”

His cheeks widened into a smirk.

“You’re already doing so well, sweetheart.” He praised, running his hands along your sides until they met the bottom of your shirt. You arched into him as he pulled the fabric over your head, relishing the gentleness of his touch while simultaneously missing the roughness from before.

He slid the tip of his tongue from your navel to the valley between your breasts, tugging on the thin material of your bra with his teeth. His breath fanned across your chest, bringing a renewed sense of urgency to your aching core.

“Frank.” You whined, pawing at his shoulders and attempting to pull him fully against you. He barely budged, instead choosing to narrow his focus onto your pebbled nipples.

“What is it, kitten, hmm?” He pressed a soft kiss to your nipple. It was through your bra, but it might as well have been to your bare breast, because the rippling heat that washed through your body elicited a breathy moan from your throat.

“I need- I mean, I want- Can you-” The warmth from his mouth around your nipple was scrambling your brain, and you couldn’t begin to function as his fingers began sliding your pants down your legs.

“You need somethin’, sweetheart?” He was teasing you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to stay silent about it.

“Quit teasing me.” You whined, and his hands halted midway down your thighs.

“You think you have any control over this right now?” He chuckled, yanking your pants down your legs in one swift motion. “I haven’t forgotten how bratty you were earlier. You keep this up and you’ll be lucky if I let you come at all, sweetheart, and it’d do you good to remember that.”

Desire sparked deep in your core at his tone, and a devilish smile made its way to your face. He eyed you warily.

“Don’t do whatever you’re thinking about doing.” He warned, returning his attention to your breasts. “Behave. Can you do that for me?”

“Can you?”

The words were out before you could stop yourself. It was just so easy to talk back to him. He brought his teeth down around your nipple, biting hard enough to bruise.

“Brat.” He grunted, pushing himself off the bed completely. You whined at the loss of contact, but it quickly turned into a moan when Frank’s rough hands flipped you onto your stomach and slapped your ass hard enough to leave a mark.

“You’ll learn to be good.” One hand held your squirming form beneath him while the other came down in another harsh slap. “I’ll fuckin’ teach you if I have to.”

You moaned, louder and louder with every slap. Sure, you were a menace to the streets of Hell’s Kitchen and, likely, Frank Castle, but you never knew being bad could feel this good. Frank hoisted you up against him, roughly pressing your back into his chest.

“You’ll submit.” He whispered, nipping at the exposed skin on your neck. “I’ll make you. I dare you to try and stop me.”

He shoved you off of him, pulling his shirt over his head as you flopped down on the mattress. You tried to crawl further up the bed, but his hand clamped around your ankle and tugged you onto your stomach again. The position gave him a perfect view of your clothed cunt, which was thoroughly soaked in its current state.

“This underwear is pretty, baby.” He mumbled, running his fingers over the damp cotton. You squirmed beneath his touch, moaning as his fingers brushed against the part of you that needed him the most. “You wear these just for me?”

“Yes, sir.” You breathed, arching your back even more to give him a better view.

“Turn over, baby.” He instructed, gently prodding at your hips. You flipped over, splaying yourself out beneath his standing form, panting. “You’re good when you want something, aren’t you?”

“Who says I want something?”

Jesus. Christ. You really couldn’t help yourself. You sighed in disbelief at your own attitude. At this rate, he’d never let you come.

“Watch it.” He brought his hand down, slapping your clothed cunt in warning. You felt yourself clench around nothing, dying to be touched by him again. “You look delicious like this, kitten. I’m dying for a taste.”

His eyes flicked up to yours in question. Even after everything, he still wanted your consent before he crossed the next line. You nodded, and then winced as his eyebrows shot into his hairline and he brought his hand down in a harsh slap, connecting with your pussy again. “Words.”

“Yes. Yes, please, sir. Please taste me.” You corrected yourself, widening your legs.

“All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” He sank to his knees, grinning. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, which surely would’ve gotten you another punishment, and tried to relax against the mattress.

“Look how pretty you are when you’re behaving.” He hummed, breath fanning over the soaked fabric. You whined as your pussy fluttered at his praise. He pressed a soft kiss to your mound, still refusing to remove the fabric simply because he knew it was driving you crazy. “You like it when I compliment you, kitten? Look at how wet you are, and I haven’t even touched you.”

“Yes, sir.” You breathed, swallowing hard. You were so turned on it was starting to hurt, but you knew if you complained he would stretch the process out even further. Instead, you leaned into the praise and hoped he’d give in soon. “I’m being good, right, sir?” You asked, legs trembling with anticipation. He kissed your mound again, eliciting a groan from deep within you.

“Yes, kitten.” He smiled against your pussy. “And good girls get rewarded. Right, baby? Hmm?”

You moaned loudly as he hummed against your wet core. “Yes! Yes, please.” You nearly screamed out.

And finally, finally, he pulled your panties down your legs, discarding them in his back pocket. He briefly sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, taking in the sight before him. You were glistening with wetness - so turned on from his words alone that you could quench his thirst for a year with the amount of arousal leaking from your cunt. He grunted, slowly remembering the game he was supposed to be playing with you.

And you tensed, noticing all of this. You may not know a lot about a lot of things, but you knew Frank Castle, and you knew how to read him. You knew exactly what he’d been thinking. For a second, you had forgotten that this was all one giant game to him. He didn’t miss the way your demeanor changed. His eyes slid to yours in question.

“What is it, honey?” He asked, voice still dripping with lust but also with genuine concern.

“I just-” You struggled to find the words, and then tried to sweep the entire interaction under the rug. You wanted his tongue on you, now.  “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Lying ain’t something good girls do.” He arched an eyebrow at you. You whined, pressing your head into the mattress.

“Is this a one time thing for you?” You asked, refusing to meet his eyes as you did so. It would be pretty embarrassing to be sent home in your current state - needy and wet - but not the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you. You would not torture yourself by watching his eyes go from lusty to their usual cold demeanor.

“What do you mean?” He asked, running his thumbs over your hip bones.

“I mean,” you huffed, sitting up on your elbows and forcing yourself to look at him, “Will you call me after this?”

Frank’s face morphed into an understanding smirk. “Are you asking me to?”

You glared at him. He pinched your sides again. You rolled your eyes. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll call.” He said, and then his tongue was swiping through your folds, and you couldn’t do anything but flop back onto the mattress again and groan.

He lapped up the arousal that had been leaking out of you since he’d arrived earlier before focusing his efforts on your clit. His tongue drew figure-eights around your clit, sending shocking waves of pleasure through your body, and when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, you were sure you’d died and gone to heaven.

“Fuck, princess, you’re so pretty.” Frank mumbled against your clit, sending a new spark of pleasure through you. “It pisses me off how pretty you are.”

“Please don’t stop.” You begged, legs shaking as you wrapped them around his head. His hand, which had been trailing closer and closer to your entrance, finally found its home, buried deep in your pussy. He pumped two fingers in and out of you, all the while sucking on your clit and going back and forth between praising and degrading you. You weren’t sure which direction was up.

“You just show up looking like a fucking goddess,” he punctuated the word with a harsh suck to your clit, “and expect me not to fuck you, princess? You’re begging to be fucked in those tight pants.”

He pumped his fingers faster and harder, sucking at your clit with more ferocity than you thought he was capable of. You were sobbing now, so close to the edge that you couldn’t stop the tears flowing down your temples and onto the comforter beneath you.

“You’re such a fucking brat sometimes, fuck.” He grunted. “But you’re so god damn pretty when you misbehave. You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

“Frankie.” You sobbed, moaning as he sucked on your clit again.

“You wanna come, baby, hmm?” He cooed. “Only good girls get to come, kitten. You think you’ve earned it?”

“Yes! Yes, sir!” You practically screamed it, your entire body shaking with anticipation of your release. “Please let me come, sir.”

“Well, when you ask so nicely, honey.” He shrugged before attacking your clit with his tongue again.

You erupted beneath him, coming so hard your vision blacked out. You could vaguely feel Frank holding your hips in place, but your body was mostly one spark of pleasure after another. Your heart thundered in your chest, mimicking the pounding in your core. Frank squeezed your thighs hard enough to bruise, lapping up every drop of your release, but you were so far gone you barely registered it.

You eventually returned to your body - sweaty, panting, and thoroughly taken care of. Frank was smirking, pressing soft kisses into your skin.

“See what happens when you’re not a brat?” He teased, kissing the valley between your breasts. “Good girls get rewarded, and you’ve been so good for me, kitten.”

“What’s my reward?” You gasped, still a bit hazy from your orgasm.

“What do you want it to be?” He nipped at your jaw, trading between soft kisses and little bites that were sure to leave marks.

“I want to-”

His phone began ringing in his pocket, a sharp and alarming ring that startled both of you out of your hazes. He reached into his pocket and cringed when he saw who it was.

“Who is it?” You asked, curious.

He flipped the phone around for you to see, and you immediately tensed up. Motherfucking Karen Page was calling Frank, and he looked like he wanted to answer it. Your haze was gone now - long gone - and you suddenly felt like crying.

“Answer it.” You taunted, though you thought you might really start to cry if he did.

“I don’t think I’m going to.” He responded, watching you carefully.

“No, really,” you said, attempting to sit up, “She might need saving, again.”

It was a low blow, and you both knew it. It wasn’t Karen’s fault that she wasn’t skilled in hand-t0-hand combat. There was a pattern, though, and no matter how many times she got herself into trouble, Frank and/or Matt were always there to save her.

“Watch your mouth.” He blocked your attempt to sit up, shifting his weight so that he was fully hovering over you. He silenced his phone and slid it into his pocket. “You’re being a brat again.”

Hot, shameful tears welled in your eyes.

“I’m not trying to be one. This is my personality.”

“Crying after the most mind blowing orgasm you’ve ever had?”

“No.” You mumbled, though you couldn’t stop the sneaking smile from forming on your face.

“You’re pretty when you smile.” He said, peppering kisses along your jaw.

“Careful, Frank.” You murmured. “It almost sounds like you care.”

He nipped at your neck, an already sensitive area, and you groaned against him.

“I do.” He said genuinely, pulling back to make eye contact with you. “But don’t you worry your pretty little head about that right now, princess. You’re about to be so cockdrunk that you won’t be able to see straight for a week.” Your pussy clenched as he grinded against you, the denim of his jeans rubbing against your sensitive clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your stomach for what felt like the millionth time that night.

“What about my reward?” You hummed, wiping stray tears away. “I still get that, right?”

“How could I forget?” He mumbled, nipping at the marked skin around your breasts. “Princess wants her reward. What do you want, sweetheart?”

“I want to suck your cock.” You said, straight-faced and innocent, blinking up at him with such softness that he looked on the verge of tears. “Sorry.” You mumbled, correcting yourself before he could, “I want to suck your cock, sir.”

“You’re a fucking angel.” He grunted, pushing himself off the bed and into a standing position again. You followed, reaching for his jeans. He grabbed your hands, briefly stopping them from tearing his jeans off.

“Are you sure you want this, princess? A reward is supposed to be about you.”

You sort of liked the way he called you princess now. Before, when it had been fist fights and anger, it sounded like an insult. But now, the gentle cadence he said it with made your heart clench in your chest.

“I want to.” You nodded, and smiled up at him. “Can I, please?”

He undid his belt with one hand, bringing the other up to cradle your jaw. His hand was massive on your face and neck, a reminder of how insanely large the man standing in front of you was.

“When you look at me like that,” he started, biting his lower lip and slightly shaking his head, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was saying, “I forget how fucking bratty you are. I just want to corrupt the innocent little smile of yours.”

“I come pre-corrupted.” You grinned, the feline smile returning to your face as you looked up at him. “But you’re more than welcome to try.”

You tugged at his boxers, revealing his achingly hard cock. Sucking in a breath, you tried to imagine all of it fitting inside you as he stepped out of the boxers. Your mouth watered when he stroked himself a few times, smearing the precum across the tip of his dick.

“You realize I can’t let another man touch you after this, right?” He asked, eyeing the way your tongue slid across your bottom lip. He shrugged. “You’ll never want another man, anyways.”

“You sound so sure of that.” You murmured, not fully comprehending the words coming out of your mouth. You flicked your eyes up, briefly meeting his gaze before returning to the matter at hand.

“That sort of sounds like that attitude that keeps getting you in trouble, princess.” He raised his eyebrows at you. You quickly rewound the conversation, blinking out of your cock-drunk haze.

“No. No, sir.” You shook your head, desperate to get your mouth on him. “Can I? Please?”

“That’s what I thought, baby.” He murmured, tucking your hair behind your ears. His hands traveled around your head, pulling your hair into a ponytail at the base of your neck. You slid off the end of the bed, sinking to your knees in front of him. “Go ahead, sweet girl.”

You wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and kissed the tip. He let out a slow breath as you grew bolder with your mouth. His salty pre-cum smeared across your lips, and you couldn’t stop yourself from dragging your tongue through it. He groaned, tightening his hold on your hair.

“I want you to fuck my throat, sir.” You murmured, looking up at him.

“You keep looking at me like that, I ain’t fuckin’ anything. Those fuckin’ eyes of yours are gonna be the death of me.”

“Didn’t realize you were so quick to-”

“Don’t finish that sentence.�� He warned, arching an eyebrow at you. You grinned, stifling a giggle before wrapping your lips around him again. You pushed your head further and further down his cock, hollowing your cheeks and sucking as you went. When your nose brushed against his pubic bone, he let out a stunted moan, slightly thrusting into your throat.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you bobbed your head up and down with more fervor, begging him to fuck your mouth harder and faster.

“You look, fuck-” He couldn’t stop himself from groaning, which spurred your movements on even more. “You look fucking amazing like this, princess.”

You hummed with acknowledgment, hoping it was enough for him to keep thrusting into your throat. Tears freely streamed down your cheeks, surely smudging the eye makeup you’d put on before you left your apartment earlier that night, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Frank Castle was sliding his dick down your throat, and you were so turned on you could probably come just thinking about it.

Frank suddenly pulled out of your mouth, a trail of spit connecting your lips to him as he panted. “‘m gonna come if you keep doing that.” He explained when he noticed your furrowed eyebrows.

“Want it.” You breathed, reaching for him again. He instead pulled you to your feet in front of him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Another time, princess. The first time you make me come, I want it to be in your sweet little pussy.” He winked. “But don’t think I haven’t noticed how good you’re being.”

He pulled you into a kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth. You groaned at both the praise and the intensity in which he kissed you. Both set your insides on fire. He led you backwards until your legs hit the bed, and you couldn't help but nip at his bottom lip when he tried to pull his head back.

“Good girls don’t do that.” He smirked, pushing you lightly so that you’d flop onto the bed again. He ran a hand over your cheek, smudging your makeup even more before running two fingers along your bottom lip. You caught on, slowly wrapping your lips around his fingers and lightly sucking. “You’re not good, though, are you, princess?”

You shook your head. His eyes had darkened again, sending a familiar pounding to your core. Your legs trembled as he began to inch his fingers in and out of your mouth.

“You can be.” His voice had lowered considerably, barely above a raspy whisper. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you? Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me, princess. I won’t tell anyone.”

You whimpered, sliding your tongue around his fingers. Your skin was on fire, and the longer he stood there staring at you with those lusty eyes, the wetter you became.

“Can I fuck you now, princess?” He asked, transfixed on the fingers he was sliding in and out of your mouth. “You gonna be a good girl and let me ruin you?”

He pulled his fingers from between your lips, gripping your jaw tightly. He watched you, waiting for a response. You almost nodded, making the same mistake you’d made countless times already, but caught yourself at the last second.

“Yes.” You said, swallowing. “Yes, sir.”

“Lay back, princess. I’ll take good care of you.”

You laid back and widened your legs for him, noticing the twinkle in his eyes as you complied with his demand. If you were in your right mind, you might’ve said something witty or bratty to him about it, but he was towering over you, cock hard and ready to fuck you into oblivion, and you wanted him so badly. You groaned when he began running his fingers through your slick folds, already trembling.

“This all for me?” He asked, circling your clit once, twice.

You nodded, forgetting yourself for a moment, and yelped when his hand smacked your bare pussy. It didn’t hurt. In fact, you felt your pussy spasm in response, but you’d been so lost in how great his touch felt that you hadn’t realized you’d broken a rule.

“This all for me?” He asked again, rubbing your clit roughly with the heel of his hand.

“Yes! Yes, sir!” You whimpered, legs trembling when you felt the heavy weight of his cock resting on your pussy. He used it to slap the slickness a few times, eliciting a whine from deep in your chest. If he didn’t fuck you soon, you might actually die.

“Who does this belong to, baby? Whose sweet pussy is this?” He asked, smacking your pussy with his cock again.

You froze, knowing the answer he was looking for, but wondering if you wanted to lower yourself to that level. It was vulnerable to give yourself over to Frank this way, but it also wasn’t as terrifying as you thought it would be.

“Say it.” He encouraged, sliding his cock through your slick folds. “Submit, princess. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Is that a promise?” You taunted, trying not to groan at the friction against your clit.

“Quit being a fucking brat.” He grunted, lining himself up with your entrance. “Say it.”

“Yours. It’s yours, sir.” You whispered, and he buried himself deep inside you.

All the gentleness you’d experienced leading up to that moment was gone, and you couldn’t do anything but cling to Frank’s shoulders as he obliterated you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, sweetheart.” He hovered over you, kissing, sucking, and nipping at every inch of skin he could reach. He was marking you everywhere - you didn’t miss the implications of that - and barreling into you over and over again.

“Say it again, baby.” He whimpered in your ear, the closest you’d ever come to hearing Frank beg. “Who does this sweet pussy belong to?”

“You, sir. It’s all yours.” You replied instantly, whining as he angled himself and pistoned deeper into you. You could barely think straight, only aware of where your skin ended and Frank’s began. “Fuck, Frank. Sir. I’m fu-” You panted, whimpering, “I’m close. ‘m gonna-”

“You look so pretty like this, sweetheart.” He murmured, ghosting his lips over your jaw as he pressed kisses to and nipped at your throat. “Cock drunk and needy. You’re so fucking pretty.”

“Sir, can I-” You shuttered when you felt his hand on your clit again, teasing it with rough, slow circles. “Oh, fuck.”

“You’ve got such a dirty mouth, baby.” He grinned, skimming his teeth along your jawline. “You drive me fucking crazy.” He punctuated the word ‘crazy’ with a deep thrust, pressing against the spongy spot deep inside you that would send you reeling. You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as you trembled around him. Tears cascaded down your cheeks, a sight he never wanted to stop seeing.

“You wanna come, princess?” He cooed, biting the sensitive skin on your throat and kissing the sting away.

“Please.” You gasped. It was the only thing you were capable of saying. You barely registered that you’d forgotten to call him sir, but he was so transfixed with the sounds you were making that he didn’t mention it.

“Princess gets what princess wants.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around you and holding you steady as he pistoned into you at an indescribable pace. You fell apart beneath him for the second time that night, arching and panting and whining as you fluttered around him. He attacked your throat, jaw, and lips with kisses, licking and nipping at your skin.

“That’s it, baby.” He talked you through the overwhelming pleasure, holding you tightly against his chest as he continued to thrust into you. “You were such a good girl, honey. You did so good.”

You whined, fluttering around him at the praise. “I want another reward.”

In any other circumstance, your demand would’ve pissed Frank off, but you just looked so pretty underneath him. “Oh, is that so?” He asked, eyebrows raising. Amusement rang in his tone, and it emboldened you to keep speaking.

“Yeah.” You gulped, still shaking from your orgasm. “I already know what I want.”

“You’re sounding more and more like the brat I just fucked silly.” He said, gently thrusting into you. “Spit it out, baby. What do you want?”

You swallowed, smiling a little. “I want you to fill me up, sir.”

He paused, pressing his forehead to your shoulder and huffing a laugh. His warm breath sent goosebumps skittering across your skin. “You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.” He mumbled, kissing you sweetly.

“I was good, wasn’t I?” You feigned innocence, knowing it would send him closer to his relief. “And good girls get rewarded?”

“Yeah, baby.” He nodded, picking up the pace of his thrusts again. “Good girls get rewarded, and you were the best girl, baby.” He leaned into your hold, lips ghosting over the crest of your ear as he whispered, “I’m gonna fill you up, baby, and you’re going to walk around dripping into your pretty little panties all day tomorrow.”

You eagerly nodded, agreeing with him, and whimpered when he began thrusting into you at a relentless pace. You arched into him, nipping at his throat hard enough to leave a mark. “You’re perfect, baby.” He breathed. “Even when you’re being a brat. Wouldn’t have you any other way.”

His thrusts grew sloppier, his breaths coming in short, stunted grunts as he finally let himself go. His heart thundered in his chest, and you clung to him, kissing across the broad expanse of his body until he nearly fell on top of you in trembles.

You cradled his head against your chest, breathing in unison with him. At some point, his arms had wound around you, which meant you were now wrapped in each other’s arms, limbs tangled together as both of you came down from your highs.

“Holy shit.” Frank said, chuckling. “That is not what I was expecting when you called.”

“You gonna kick me out now?” You asked, half-joking. He tensed against you, lifting his eyes to meet yours.

“Don’t be a brat.” He nipped at your skin. “I’m not kicking you out, unless you want to leave.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, sighing deeply. “Of course I want you to stay. I’m a fuckin’ gentleman, kitten.”

You scoffed, though you could feel yourself hiding a smile. “Whoever told you that clearly hasn’t heard you in the bedroom.”

He scoffed in mock-offense. “Are you saying you didn’t have a perfectly nice time just now?”

“I did.” You grinned. “I’m…sorry I said you weren’t good in the sack.”

He looked up, stunned. “Did the Black Cat just apologize? To me?”

You rolled your eyes, huffing. “Yeah, but no one would believe you if you told them.”

“I’m not sure that’s enough, princess.”

You scoffed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I think you need to admit to me that I’m incredible in bed and that you were wrong.” He was grinning so wide you had to resist the urge to punch him in his stupid, handsome mouth.

“I’m not doing that.” You shook your head, stifling a laugh.

“Do it.” He murmured, nodding.

“I refuse.”

“Please?”

“Absolutely not.”

You were both grinning at each other now.

“You’re such a brat.” He said.

“That’s what got us into this mess.” You countered.

“Just say it, princess. For me?” He pleaded. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

“Fine.” You gave in, rolling your eyes. “Frank Castle, you’re a sex God!”

He chuckled, pulling you tightly into his chest.

“Good girl.” He praised, kissing you softly.

“Do I get a reward?” You arched an eyebrow at him, smirking.

He smirked back, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Oh yeah, princess. Good girls get rewarded, remember?”

Tag List:

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[artificial-transmutations]

Can you believe it?

10.02.2024

Can you fucking believe it?

As most of you know, I'm working for LifeCorp, and you won't believe what they just did to me! I'm pissed!

My job is, apparently, becoming 'obsolete' with the whole AI thing bla bla bla. But! Of course, they don't want to fire me. Instead, they're offering me alternative positions. So far so good, right? But do you know which positions they offered me?

- Security Guard

- Janitor

- Escort

Not that bad, right? I mean I don't have the skillset for any of those, but that is apparently no problem, because these jobs come with a fucking mandatory life change if I take them?

Apparently, my usual charming self is not enough:

What kind of bullshit is this? Normal companies ask you to move if you want to keep your job, LifeCorp requires you take on a whole new body, just to keep working for them.

You think that's outrageous? It gets better. Apparently, none of those jobs is suitable for a woman. I can be a male security guard, a male janitor or a male escort. And when I complained about it, they just said that for security guard and janitor, a strong body is a requirement, and they have enough female escorts already. What a bunch of assholes! There's absolutely no way I'm gonna take one of those jobs.

Love, Tracy

***

14.02.2024

Have you seen LifeCorp's newest shit post? The valentine's day special? The audacity!

Stacy and Zara are now fricking men? No doubt they have been bullied to make that change. You know what this company has? A fucking frat-boy attitude. More and more people are becoming guys, "BeCaUsE tHeY wAnT tO". Bullshit. It's clear to me that the upper management wants to see more dick in their company. Probably a cocksucker like Stacy and Zara have become. I'll talk to them first chance tomorrow.

Oh, and Matthew? Why would anyone want to become a Latino?!

Love, Tracy

***

18.02.2024

Okay, I talked to Stacy and Zara (No, I won't call them "Steel and Zacharias", these are still women!). They were all "Oh, we're so much happier now" and "We're finally being our true selves" and "You should do the same, really."

It's a fucking brainwash. I mean, they haven't been right in their mind to begin with (they had the delusion of being a couple - ha! Couples are one man and one woman, nothing else!), but it's becoming veeery clear to me that they have been forced and brainwashed. And I will find proof for that!

Love, Tracy

***

18.02.2024 - 2

Okay, I'm fuming now. I told my boyfriend about that whole job situation. And you know what he said? You know what he fucking said?

"Ok. Do whatever makes you happy."

He just said "Ok" and was all cool about it! He even had the audacity to tell me that they didn't force me to do anything and that I could just find a new job if I didn't want any of that bodies.

But the best part is still to come. He said, and I quote, "Just make sure to ask them to make me gay if you take any of those jobs, so we can still be together." I mean... wow. That's a reason for a breakup just there. He's a fricking man, or at least that's what I thought up until now. The thought of becoming gay should have been something that made him sick!

But, oh no. He's fine with it. Disgusting! I need to re-think this relationship.

Love, Tracy

***

19.02.2024

I have a plan!

I'm going to accept one of LifeCorps offers. No, hear me out. I'm gonna accept - and then I'll sue them. Discrimination, kidnapping, something like that. I'm gonna be rich. Oh, and about my boyfriend? He's gonna have it his way. I'll make sure they make him the fag he begs to be and then break up with him. This'll teach him. Good thing he doesn't read this feed.

I'm just too clever for this world. Take that, LifeCorp!

Gonna take the janitor, though. With all their fake diversity and stuff, the guard and escort probably aren't even white.

Love, Tracy

***

22.02.2024

I just got a letter congratulating me on my choice and that they are happy to keep me as an employee. Ha. If these losers knew.

Love, Tracy

***

26.02.2024

Holy shit! How do you guys even walk with that thing?

Needless to say, I got my new body. Here's what I look like now:

Apparently, they meant it well with me, cause my new dick is just... enormous. And they gave me some huge balls to match it, too.

The muscles aren't all that bad, either - I just feel big and powerful all around. The hair will take some getting used to, but it's not for long, after all. After I sue them, I'll demand my original body back.

I do have to admit, I'm feeling good, though. So much more powerful, but calm and happy at the same time. I wonder if this is a guy thing or a me thing? Is that how my boyfriend feels all the time?

Oh, gosh. My boyfriend. He's probably gay already, so I should break up with...

But that would be really mean. Also, thinking about him just made my new member react. It's kinda straining my underwear now. These things really do have a mind of their own, right?

What was I writing about? Yes, my boyfriend. Why did I want to break up with him? I mean, he's just cute like a button, right? I just realize what a gigantic asshole I was, planning to break up with him. I'll have to apologize. Or, even better, I'll apologize by showing show him this huge package I got. That's what he wanted, right?

I should really go. Don't want to keep him waiting.

...

You know what? I think I'll try out this new life before I make any more rushed decision. So far, I enjoy being a dude a lot and I'm actually looking forward to my new job. And my new-old boyfriend. And they didn't even force me to do anything. Perhaps I should ask them to adjust my ethnicity later on, though - I feel a bit more adventurous now. Also, I think I'll go by Trace now. It's an unusual name, but I like it.

Sorry for being such an ass before. Well, speaking of ass - off to get some.

Bye!

- Trace

[unconventional-lawnchair]

We'll heal together: Chapter Six

Seven Taylor Swift

Sirius Black x Reader (Past) / Severus Snape x Reader (Platonic-Past)

Masterlist

Summary: The reader reminisces on some old friends of hers. Harry starts seeing a curious fox.

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, Mean Snape, Slut shaming, Curses, Avery and Mulciber, Fights, mentions of child abuse, toxic friendships (please reach out if I missed something}

Wc- 5462

A/n: This is mostly more filler for the characters relationships

You only stopped when you reached the road. Looking all around, you allowed yourself to transform back. You truly hoped that you already passed the hardest part of your escape plan. You knew you had to get to king's landing, there were other trains to take you to and from Hogwarts Valley, as to how to get there…

You wondered, slowly raising your wand to the street and took a deep breath. Here goes it. “Lumos.”

You gave it a few minutes before you grew anxious and began to look around the street. It felt like an hour had passed, maybe more, but the moon hadn't even shifted in the sky. “Heyy! Witch in distress here!” You wiggled your arms about. “Lost and uhm.. stranded and all!” You shouted and put your hands on your hips. Tapping your foot, you clicked your tongue and began to wonder if the Knight Bus was even a thing anymore.

As if to spite your skepticism you suddenly heard the rowdy bus. Eyes snapping up to it with a bright smile. That's more like it.

~~

You could have sworn the Knight Bus drove more responsibly in your younger years. Maybe you were just used to the humdrum of muggle life, the slow and easy. Regardless, you managed to get to kings crossing in one piece. Shifting into a fox and hiding in one of the upper compartments in the near empty train was simpler then you thought it would be. 

So much nostalgia rushed through you as you passed the magical barrier to the platform. You walked and skittered past people, hiding in their luggage and hopping from cart to cart to get inside the train. You walked down the mostly empty train car, beady eyes taking in the familiar interior. It felt like it was from another lifetime. A lifetime that was so cruelly ripped from you.

~~ 

“Excuse me!” You heard a high pitched feminine voice call out to you. Turning your head, you saw a young girl. She had long red hair that reached her back, bright green eyes and a stern determined look. Pulled together with a slight pout, she looked ages wiser than her baby cheeks would lead you to believe.

“Uhm.. Hello?” You called back, turning to look at her fully. You weren't used to people coming up to you without your parents present, most who were forced to be meek and reserved, respectful with you as if you were the superior. At least, that's what your father always told you and everyone else around. As if the memory reminded you, you straightened your back and tried to put on a sour expression of indifference that your mother taught you to do. She was the  master of it after all. “How can I assist you?” You asked in a much more mature and collected tone.

The red head seemed physically thrown for a loop at your sudden change in demeanor. She waved it off as she looked back at her father who was hovering around her sobbing sister, Petunia having an absolute fit and sobbing louder whenever their parents even glanced where you two stood. You winced and turned up your lip. 

Lily’s look turned apologetic, before she looked around quickly and waved her parents off.

“I found someone, mum, da! I’ll be fine!” She called back as you looked around her form to get a better look at the three family members. They looked… Well, a lot like your family’s friends. Snobbish and thick headed. Who you assumed was her father called over.

“Good! Good! Don't be late!” He dismissed her, not looking up as he offered Petunia a stuffed doll and her mom didn't even acknowledge her as she tried to appease the little terror they created. They looked relieved as they left their little girl in the middle of the train station alone. At least your parents knew you were meeting the Potters. Well, you were, if your parents' poor planning didn't end up with you missing your meeting time.

“Was that your sister?” You asked with a gawk, and Lily slowly nodded.

“Unfortunately. I actually was coming to ask you, did you uhm.. Get summoned by a letter too?” Lily leaned closer to you and you purse your lips. What an odd way to phrase it, but you didn't think about it for too long.

“You’re looking for platform nine and three quarters, yeah? Here.” You took her hand without thinking. She was nice, she was like the sun and it brought you a bit of a gooey feeling. Watching that unfold gave you an unexplainable protective feeling of the red head, so you pulled her along. Lining up your carts.. You gestured to the wall and she gave you a scandalized look. “What?”

“The wall. You run at it.” You implored and the girl scoffed. “I may be new to this, but I'm not an utter fool.”

“Like to make a wager?” You mused, allowing yourself to be more playful, she reminded you of the safety James brought you, she was such a soothing presence, you slipped into yourself easily. “Ten Galleons says I walk straight through that wall.”

“What on earth are Galleons?” Lily asked in a bemused tone and your eyes shot open wide at the question.

That's how you met Lily Evans. Your best friend for the next ten years of your life. 

You two eventually made it to the train, walking down the train car corridor, laughing at some stupid mistake Lily had made, leading to a domino line of luggage falling over and crashing open. You two ran as fast as you could to the train before you were spotted. 

“Merlin, we are lucky the Blacks didn't notice that!” You giggled, and Lily gave an easily bright but confused smile. “Blacks?”

You tilted your head at her, your smile remaining but turning confused. What a strange girl. She didn't want to talk about Hogwarts out loud? Now she expects you to believe she hasn't heard of the Black family? It was like she was completely foreign,

“Blacks, the pureblood family?” You pushed and before she could respond a voice called out to her from down the corridor. You both looked up and saw a boy, slightly taller than you both, with an annoyed look as he gestured for her to follow him to his compartment. Lily looked at you and gestured over. 

“Lily?” You asked as you made it to the door and slipped in. you raised your luggage above your head as the black haired boy lifted up Lily’s and put it away for her.

“Oh! Right! My name is Lily, Lily Evans.” She lit up and held out her hand. You mirrored her look and took her hand in your own. 

“{Y/N}! {Y/N} {L/N}.” You introduced and she nodded, mouthing your name as if to get used to the feel on her tongue. You began to shift and make faces at her, trying to copy her, until she noticed and playfully shoved you.

You fell on your seat in a fit of giggles and looked across from you, seeing the quiet boy was already staring at you. You tilted your head and leaned forward, feet kicking out from under your seat. “Hello! Nice to meet you! I’m-”

“{Y/N} {L/N}. The {L/N} family is quite famous.” He snarked back in a sarcastic tone and your face fell, slowly leaning back into your seat. Right. Being around Lily had you forgetting who you were. She was a dangerous kind of fun.

“Yeah...” You mumbled and the boy sneered.

“You are aware Lily Evan’s is muggle born, yeah?” he challenged and your jaw went slack. Oh Merlin, you didn't even think about that. Your father would have your head if he knew you were running around with Mudb- Muggle borns. But Lily was nothing like how your father described, she was quite fun and smart, at least to your twelve year old brain. 

“Is that true?” You asked Lily in a low whisper and Lily pursed her lips. Seems this wasn't the first time she was asked this.

“.. I am.” She answered cautiously and Snape watched you like a hawk as you pouted and deflated. “My dad would be so mad if I told him I was friends with a Muggle born. I am already pushing it with the company I keep, he says.”

Lily pouted and she looked like a kicked puppy, her eyes big and pout heart breaking. You three sat in silence for a moment before Lily spoke up again.

“Do you have to tell him?” She asked and your head snapped over to her. “What? Of course I do.” You mumbled and she narrowed her eyes.

“Why?”

“W-well he's my father, and I can't lie to him.” You argued and she tilted her head.

“But why?”

That stunned you for a moment. When you were younger, the fear of lying was debilitating. Your father could always look into your mind and sort anything out for himself, so the more truth you told the less you would have to deal with the pain. He was cruel and your younger mind has made him out to be an all seeing eye, just daring you to slip up so he could show you just why people feared him. Just why you should fear him too.

“I..”

“He wont find out, I won't tell a soul, would you Severus?” 

The raven haired boy, Severus, seemed stunned by the question. Of course, he caved, and muttered a ‘no.’

Lily had that effect on people. One look in her eyes and you would do anything you were asked of, she had you and Severus wrapped around the very pinkie finger she used to promise you her silence since day one.

Little did you know, a few more months to come, and she would be much the same with you. Lily, Severus, and {Y/N}, would be names that would find themselves in each other's company for years to come. Their names and the tragedy that would follow.

~~

It was morning by the time the train stopped at the Hogsmeade station. You huffed and dragged yourself to your paws. Once you scampered off the train it was much easier to follow the trail. Students were in their classes, and truly, no adult seemed to give a damn about you. You were just another woodland creature. If you did manage to catch someone’s eye, it wasn't hard to lose it in the edges of the forbidden forest.

You chose to stalk deeper into the forest, eventually being able to follow the river up stream, the one that ran straight from the Black Lake. Once you made it out and stumbled across the field. A feeling settled in your stomach you remembered all too well. Regret, hurt, pain, your ears pinned back,you remembered the day so clearly, as you stared at the tree that used to represent your little trio’s friendship. It was hard, being both Severus Snape and James Potter’s friends. When Lily told James around year 3 that if he wanted to impress her to lay off of Snape, you two thought it would be the end of their stupid fights.

That lasted exactly two years.

~~

It has been days since you got your acceptance letter. The weekend that followed you had been a whirlwind of meeting the most remarkable people to ever work as Aurors, working alongside heroes everyday.. Well, from the inside of your cubicle. Your relationship with Alastor moody was shaky at best, but you went in with an impression to make. You weren't just there because your father, or your family, the very two things that did everything in their power to try and stop you from getting in. You came back to school Monday on cloud 9, you felt remarkable for the first time in your life and not because you were told you were.

Not from some suck up, or from your blood status obsessed family. You were remarkable because you worked to get to that point on your own. You had to remember to thank Slughorn for introducing you to the people who ran the program at his Slug club.

There was one person you had not been able to talk to since you got your letter. Severus. Being in the same house you would figure that you two saw a lot of each other. However, he had made some new friends. Friends you didn't exactly like. Avery, for example. He had been trying to get in your good graces since you met him, you knew why, it was painfully clear he wanted the connection to your father and you refused to be a vessel for that. He also spent more time with Mulciber as well.

That boy was a piece of work. You had made your feelings on him known to Snape early on in their twisted little friendship. He had done horrid things to the muggle borns, not to mention how he seemed to get some sick gratification from targeting the weaker women of the school. He had a passion for making any witch with what he called a ‘loud mouth�� his personal target. You had managed to avoid him, aside from a few crude comments here and there about your blood status and making himself known to your father as a potential suitor.

They were vile and whenever you mentioned the behavior to Snape he would simply scoff and go on rants about how you and Lily were never around because you two seemed to worship the ground the boys who tormented him for years walked on. You would always counter by saying he wasn't exactly innocent in their interactions, but it would always dissolve into stupid and petty fights. He would go for blood every chance he got, making sure you knew he prioritized Lily in every interaction. 

Maybe that was when your friendship started to crumble. You knew what he said was to hurt you, that he would never truly mean it. Just like his accusations that you cared more about Potter than him, the length of your friendship meant nothing, and you knew he cared for you more than he cared for most.

And you him.

It got exhausting, however, taking his hurt for yourself. Putting it all on your shoulders as he lashed out for any evidence you cared for him still. It hurt to grow up, clinging to people you knew were bad for you. Severus Snape was bad for you. Saying that out loud broke your heart, because you were still young, and you would still always care for him, you didn't know a thing he could do or say to you that would push you away. Not for long. Because he was someone you knew, someone not many people got to know. 

Severus Snape, the boy who would nag you for not bringing your cloak to Quidditch games but allow you to use his. Snape was the one who would nag you for your grades and give you his study notes. The boy who would absolutely ruin your confidence in potions after a simple mistake, and bring you candy from Honeydukes as an apology. Maybe that was it. He never said it. All the times you told him you cared for him like the rain cares for the breeze, Like how kindling cares for fire. You cared so much you made something dangerous, and it destroyed you.

Still, you held onto that hope that maybe, maybe. He would come around and put down his pride just,,, set it aside for you. It never happened. It did happen for Lily, but she never had to try for him. She didn’t know the times you had to pick up the pieces of him she shattered. It wasn't her fault, not her fault he refused to say it. He would let you know when you hurt him, never that he cared. He would let Lily know he cared, but never when she pushed him too far.

Yet you were the one to destroy it. You always took the blame. You let it happen, as what you had was turning fragile, and you weren't ready to give up on him just yet.

So here you were, walking down the halls to go and tell Snape the news, Because he was your friend, and because he never had to guess if you cared or not. This was his chance. He just needed to show he cared.

You made it to the dungeons but paused as you heard familiar voices fill the halls. You quickly froze and slipped behind a pillar to hide away. Bloody hell, what's your luck? He’s with the two nimrods.

“You know, even if she's a bit of a harlot.” You heard Avery quip and you rolled your eyes. You prayed  for whatever poor soul the boys were talking about.

“She's always around those boys, heard she's doing Remus. A half blood? Go figure,” You heard the snake that was Mulciber speak up next. Your face turned sour and you narrowed your eyes. No.. He wouldn't let them talk about you like that, right? You bit your cheek and continued to listen.

“I wouldn't be surprised if she's doing all of them. That Potter boy and her have been friends since they were kids, can't say I'd keep a witch around that long if she didn't help me out once and a while.” Avery snickered and Mulciber chuckled.

‘True, and that Peter kid is like her pouch pooch. Maybe that's why Sirius hates her so much, shiny new toy and he doesn't have all the boys attention anymore.”

You took some even breaths and steadied your hands that shook with this sudden shock of nausea. Come on Snape. Say something.

“Talking about friends, Snape, you're close to her yeah? Ever had a go?” 

Snape continued to look at his book with a bored expression, “I wouldn't touch her if she paid me.”

Your heart broke. Your eyes closed tight and you clenched your chest. You should of just walked away.

“Why's that? Too busy day dreaming about Evans? Cant say ive ever had a Mudblood before.” Mulciber snarked and Snape's book slammed closed.

“Don't call her that. Don't talk about her like that.” 

That was your last straw. You turned sharply on your heel and walked past them. Dashing right up the stairs, You did not spare them a glance. If you had, you would have seen the look of shock and guilt all over Snape’s face. 

You didn't remember running, or what you were thinking. But there you were, at the Fat Lady, trying to hide your tears in your sleeve as you knocked. You tried to mutter acknowledgement to the painting as she cooed and tried to comfort you as you waited, but nothing but a sob came out.

The door opened and you faced Marlene. The girl gasped and didn't even think before she pulled you in and closed the painting.

Next thing you knew, you were wrapped up in a warm blanket you knew to be Peter’s, a cup of warm brown liquid you used for steam to clear your nose enough to breathe. You knew this mug. It was Remus’s. You tried to stifle another onslaught of tears, as Marlene robbed your back from where you laid on her lap.

Peter was helping to take off your shoes and talking about his day to you. He knew you weren't listening, but giving you something to fill the silence. Remus had gone to get James, and Lily was rushing down the stairs when she heard you were in tears. Mary and Alice were not far behind.

When everyone was there you begrudgingly told them what happened. You watched their expressions. Your heart melted a bit, at how they seemed to react to the news. They were repulsed, not just for Lily, but for you. You had never seen James so calm, so careful with his words despite his clear anger.

You set the drink down and slowly melted into the comfort you friends offered, not even noticing as James dragged the boys aside to talk about something. You just let yourself be coddled as you did your best to forget Snape’s words.

~~

The next day was better. You had Remus escort you back to the Prefect dorms, your walk was quiet but you felt safer then you had that entire day. He made an excuse to Slughorn as to why you weren’t there for your duties. He was even there early to your dorm in the morning to make sure you got out of bed on time and got ready. Honestly, you felt guilty, enjoying his presence so much. 

You went through most of the day like that, until your free period. You were shocked to see Remus wasn't waiting for you, instead, Lily was. You smiled and you both linked arms to walk down to the field. You were still mad at Severus, so you hoped he wasn't there. On some degree, you have to admit, you wanted to yell at him, shout and tear him apart like he did to you.

But you couldn't. Because he was your friend, and because he never had to guess with you. He knew. That hurt worse.

As you both made it down to the Black Lake, you and Lily froze at the sight laid out in front of you.

Snape, dangled upside down by his ankle as James and Sirius threw taunts his way.

“James Potter!” Lily shouted and ran down the hill, you weren't really thinking before you shouted a spell at James, “Expelliarmus!”

His wand was smacked out of his hand, and next came Lily’s palm across his face. Sirius gave a low whistle at the contact. You ran down and slowed Snapes fall, “Severus! Are you okay?” You asked and tried to help him up. 

“Get off of me!” He snapped at you. You flinched away with wide eyes and he snarled at you. “Always to the rescue, huh, {L/N}? Compensating for your name sake?” 

He shouted out in anger and you let him. Again, letting him tear you apart. But this was different. He didn’t stop. He didn't calm down. His words just got sharper. You waited, this was the first time he berated you in front of a crowd.

“You see what they've done to me for years and you still pick them! You still hang around them! I don't need your pity! I don't need your help!” He snapped and Lily walked over cautiously, knowing your choice to handle Snape’s temper was always to let it pass. She didn't want to aggravate you. “Severus-”

“Not now you worthless Mudblood!” He shouted, eyes still narrowed on you. That gave you the perfect view of his eyes going as wide as an owl as he realized what had left his lips. He turned on his heel and stared at Lily whose jaw was slack and eyes turning glossy. She turned sharply and began to run off, and you let your face fall into your palms.

Remus was by your side in a second, wrapping his arms around you and ignoring Snape as his mouth opened and closed like a fish, muttering pathetic apologies. 

“Let’s go.” Remus muttered, you could feel how he was tensing, holding himself back, You simply listened. Everything had happened so fast. You just remember how he looked at you when you glanced back. Pathetic. He looked like he was going to fall to his knees. If he did, Remus didn't let you see it. Last thing you saw was James running after Lily towards the castle. As Remus leads you off to docks, away from everyone's eyes.

~~

You winced at the memory, eyes slowly lidding as you carefully stalked around the place it all happened, eyes locked on it, like it would come running after you. Once you had made enough distance you dashed off to the school. Slipping passed the gate with practiced ease, your eyes trailed up and your mawl dropped open in shock. Dementors? What in Merlin's sweet name were they doing here?

You pushed the thought aside, you didn't want to think about it. The great thing about having them as guards, however, not a single one noticed you as you made it to the school grounds.

You looked around before hurrying off and around the field. You stopped as you noticed the Quidditch court, with red ribboned boys flying around. It took you exactly three seconds to ponder if James Potter’s son would be in Gryffindor, and on their team.

If a fox could click their tongue, you would. Hurrying out further across the bridge, you snuck your way under the large tarps that covered the scaffolding. Slipping your way up and over, you managed to get a viewpoint from between the benches. 

You didn't have to look long. As if on instinct, your eyes found him. A seeker too, you wondered if he was as cocky as James in the field. Slowly, your little tail began to shuffle around in excitement. He looked so much like James, but you could also see the boy you held all those years ago. 

He was running his heart out, you watched his eyes follow after something you couldn't see, before he launched himself forward with a brilliant smile. Oh that smile.

~~

“{Y/N}! Sirius! Come in!” You heard Lily's voice call from the living room. You and him were holding gifts, you had brought an empty photo album and several of your enchanted photos from Hogwarts, ready to sit down with Lily and make a time capsule of sorts for Harry when he went. Something with a cheesy ‘now it's your turn’ at half way for him to finish off.

Sirius had brought some dishes he made with your help, so Lily and James didn't have to cook for the next few months while Harry was still small.

“Where is my nephew?!” Sirius demanded in a playful rawr, walking into the living room, shoving the dishes onto James who sighed and waxed on about being forgotten for a tot. As he passed you to get to the kitchen you got on your toes and kissed his cheek, that seemed to satisfy the attention quota of his.

You walked deeper in and lit up at the sight of Lily, handing over the little bundle to Sirius. He looked so happy holding Harry, it made your heart flutter. You bit your lip and tried to fend off the baby fever.

Setting down the book and photos you walked over to Lily. She held the couch to stand and when you opened your arms she practically collapsed into yours. You giggled and pressed your nose to her cheek and she gave a sigh of approval. “Missed you.” She mumbled and you nodded. “Missed you too.”

You broke away from each other with a quick peck on the cheek, and you turned to meet the wrap of blankets in your fiancés arms.

“Oh, look at you.” You cooed and Sirius smiled at you. “Cute one, ain't he?” 

“Very.” You agreed and reached over to let him grab your finger. He lit up in a smile and you mimicked it, sticking out your tongue and gave a delighted gasp when it made him giggle. Sirius chuckled. 

“I've never been good with kids.” You admitted sheepishly. 

“Neither of us. Guess we have our exception.” He teased and you rolled your eyes fondly at him. “For now.” You whispered against his sleeve and Sirius's smile twitched before James returned and spoke up. 

“Now that you're here, we wanted to talk to you about something before Remus gets here.” He mused in a serious tone, arm wrapping around Lily's waist as she leaned into him. You felt your heart swell with how love struck Lily looked at James. 

“Oh?” Sirius mused and rested Harry in your arms. You looked down at him and smiled, he again, returned it with a fit of giggles. Oh he was just precious. Oh wow, James Potter, the kid you wouldn't have trusted to watch your owl for a weekend had a small human. One he needed to make sure stayed fed. And breathing. 

“Good luck little guy.” You mumbled to him, in your own little world. “You're gonna need it. Call Auntie {Y/N} whenever you need me.” You gushed.

James fell silent for a moment as he watched you coddle his son. Lily smiled brighter as she looked at Sirius, no other word to describe him but love sick. Absolutely destroyed with what he was seeing. 

“About that.” James cut in and you looked over at James with a pout. He laughed before you could even snap at him. “Before you kill me.”

“We were looking into a godparent for little Hars.” Lily whispered and your eyes widened, looking at Sirius. 

“I wanted Sirius, Lily wanted you.” James continued and you gave the most offended expression you've ever made. “How dare you! I've known you since diapers!”

“Exactly what I told Lily when I tried to argue what a horrible idea it was.” James snickered and Lily hit him with her elbow. 

“So, we compromised. A godmother and godfather.” Lily finished and your jaw went slack, you looked at Sirius with wide hopeful eyes and he returned the look. 

“Y-yes! Yes of course!” You declared quickly and Sirius nodded vigorously before he pulled James into a tight hug. “I'll keep him safe.”

You walk up closer to Lily and she leans her chin on your shoulder. “And I'll make sure he's a proper bloke.” You quipped and Sirius playfully scoffed. “Define proper bloke.”

“Not you.” You teased and he wet his lips with a bright smirk. You turned to Lily and James, tucking Harry on your shoulder. “You two should get some rest. We'll watch Harry for the rest of the day.” You mused and Sirius didn't complain. Taking Harry from you.

“Oh, {Y/N}, you really don't-”

“Go go! Begone! It's godparent bonding time!” You scolded and James laughed, nudging Lily. “I'll run you a bath.” He muttered into her hair and she sighed blissfully. “Sounds like heaven.”

Oh they were love.

You and Sirius stayed that whole night. Cleaning up around the place, taking care of Harry, and keeping the volume low.  Remus came over and you and him worked to distract Harry and Sirius took a nap. That really only consisted of him staring at the muggle tv and flicking through channels. When the actual parents returned you and Sirius went home.

You went home and had one of the most vicious fights you had ever had. 

~~

You shook the thought from your head as you watched Harry land. Slipping through the benches and squeezing your body onto the platform you watched from above before you hurried down the stars behind a fluffy haired girl. She ran on the court, joined by a very familiar redhead. 

You stopped just outside the pitch in the grass, watching as everyone packed up and Harry talked to his friends with such life in his eyes. Your own eyes trailed up to his scar before you tilted your head. You still had a lot of questions on your mind. But now, now was time for observing. His smile, it reminded you so much of your days within these walls. The days you spent with James and Lily, running down the halls and making fools of yourself. You hoped he was having a similar childhood.

You watched him for a few minutes, before he seemed to register your presence. His eyes flicked over to you and you two shared eye contact.

Harry could have sworn to Merlin that the look you gave him, he'd seen before. Just like that, in the meer moments you were there, you were gone. Slithering your way into the forest and into a small den. You scratched your neck out, shaking your fur vigorously, a sign of stress as you tried to figure out what to do next. You didn't want to leave Harry, you didn't want him out of your sight ever again, but you also didn't want Moody sending an Auror strike to find you. Eventually, you relented. You'd go back, practice your apperation again and again until you were able to make it from Wesley's to the forest. You knew you could do it, you'd done it from farther away. You took a deep breath and transformed back.

Time to unrust some wheels.

[aaronyoghurt]

"Smash or Pass"

Chrollo x Reader

Was supposed to be a short drabble but I got carried away. help me.

3am inspiration and word vomit are truly an astounding combo

Reader being bold and sassy

Bit suggestive at the end so be aware

Chrollo and you being dorks honestly

I cba with a summary rn so read and find out 😇

Enjoy...

(around 1.8k words)

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

Relaxing at home in the quietude of a pleasant evening, unbothered by outside influences, is the perfect setting in your mind. Your boyfriend is casually reclining on the couch reading, presumably some heavy historical tome that only he seems to willingly indulge in, compared to any normal human being, and is quietly scanning the archaic yellowed pages, absorbing their contents.

Normally, you’d choose to lay your head on his lap, maybe asking him to read to you, or simply choosing to read something yourself within his vicinity, if not already occupying yourself with any other activity. But by looking at the ostensibly heavy text and the words you glimpsed at earlier within that ancient volume of his, you weren’t particularly keen to participate in this session today.

That is why you were currently standing in the kitchen, leaning your elbows against the marble counter with your upper body languidly pushed forward and scrolling through the contents of your phone gallery. A cup of tea steaming at your side. That is when a mischievous thought etched its’ way into your mind, causing a sly grin to stretch your lips. Perhaps a bit bold to be put into execution, nevertheless, the potential entertainment of changing the evening’s atmosphere outweighed the silliness of it.

Hence, you rigidly straightened your posture while pushing away from the counter. With the phone in your hand, you happily sauntered over to where the unaware Chrollo is sitting on the couch, nose in his book.

You effortlessly hop over the back rest of the couch and with one fluid motion you are sitting next to Chrollo, thigh to thigh. As expected, this abrupt action of yours doesn’t necessarily instill much of a reaction out of him, besides a brief sideways glance in your direction with connotations of inquiry.

Before he manages to get any words out and ask about this ordeal, you beat him to the punch and thrust your phone screen right before his book before voicing your following question; “Smash or pass? Chrollo.” You say with a small grin dancing at the edges of your mouth.

Chrollo pauses, eyes cast down at your phone screen with a picture of a random female celebrity (leaving it up to you to decide lol) that is blocking his view from his previous investment in the book. He quickly glances up, turning his head to look at you, and his expression of utter surprise and bafflement is absolutely priceless.

There is typically little to nothing that gets the infamous Chrollo Lucilfer startled. Perhaps such instances are never even brought to occurrence that could cause his mind to do a double take on a situation. However, you seem to be the only one able to catch him off guard with your random quips or remarks. On some occasions at least. You consider the satisfaction of seeing Chrollo’s brief but still perceptible moments of confusion a big win on your side.

Meanwhile, Chrollo’s big grey eyes are staring at you in question, almost like a deer in headlights, frozen and devoid of any motion. You find that expression of his rather endearing and cute. Eventually, he gathers himself almost just as quickly and releases a small breath of amusement and perhaps still a bit of disbelief. “Pardon?” He asks just in case he misheard your bold and spontaneous question while quirking a dark brow slightly upwards.

You simply grin back in response and reaffirm your previous statement while gesturing your phone for emphasis, “You heard me, would you smash or pass this female if given the option?” Chrollo simply blinks at you while his mind flips through all the possible reasoning as to why you would ask such a question. He once again glances down at the image displayed on your phone and then back up to regard your sly yet innocent face.

“I am assuming this is a hypothetical based question. Although, not the most logical…”, the corner of his lips curling upwards slightly as his brows raise with riddled mirth and suspicion at your antics. He can’t help but find this established predicament quite endearing and funny. You simply cross your legs, one over the other, and stay firm in your pursuit of an answer.

“Just answer the question, Chrollo. It is of very strategic importance and you mustn’t evade it. I want an answer.” You continue and give him a toothy vehement smile. Chrollo merely sighs and slides his palm under your hand that holds your phone to bring it closer to his view and assess the given celebrity.

After a few seconds of palpable silence, you await his response with baited breath and eyes glued to his side profile to gauge his reaction, until he finally utters his answer, “…Smash.” His answer causes your eyes to squint in dissatisfaction before defeatedly closing them for a brief moment. You turn your phone off, quietly and slowly setting it on the coffee table before you as Chrollo watches your every move carefully.

Still remaining deathly silent, you gently grab the pillow on your other side and fling it with a forceful swing, smashing it against his broad chest. “Wrong!” you exclaim in a passionate sing-song manner. The impact of your swing doesn’t even move Chrollo in the slightest, nor causes him any actual harm. He could have definitely evaded your vicious attack, even in his sleep, but he chose to be kind. His eyes widen to the tiniest degree and he merely smirks at your ferocious yet poorly executed attempt at his life.

“Oh? Why, darling? I answered your question, didn’t I? There’s no need to get so worked up over simply following the rules of your little game.” He chuckles to himself briefly and closes his ridiculously large book that was delicately resting on his lap and placing it beside your phone on the coffee table.

You shake your head slowly in disapproval and click your tongue to highlight how obviously wrong he was in his deduction. “As someone who is a renowned and calculating strategist, your skills in the department of the ‘smash or pass’ game are severely lacking. You disappoint me. Truly. I am now offended.”

Chrollo raises his brow once again and with a knowing grin, he responds, “Whatever do you mean, love? I believe that when given two set and obvious choices presented to me, I am obliged to pick either or. Am I not correct?”

You keep up the playful façade of being disappointed and crestfallen as you shake your head slowly, “You have failed me, Chrollo…you have failed me…” You place your hands on his shoulders and shake him slightly while you gaze into his eyes with your own narrowed gaze and forced smile. “Ah, but you see, my dear Chrollo, sometimes when that is the case, and you are presented with two choices, you are only given the illusion of choice. Because in truth, there are always more choices available…” You then press your pointer finger against the cross tattoo adorning his forehead and jab it lightly once.

“That is why you have to think outside the box!” you accentuate the weight of your statement with another small jab of your finger against his forehead, this time a tad bit more forcefully. He lightly tips his head backwards at the pressure while still looking at you with amusement and a light smirk.

“I see someone has been reading my books about The Paradox of Choice, hm? Well aren’t you a smart little thing.” He coos appraisingly and brings his hand up to hold your cheek, brushing his thumb lightly against the soft skin.

“Tch, so what if I have? You’re straying away from the issue at hand.” You inform him as you maintain eye contact with your boyfriend. “The correct answer was supposed to be ‘pass’ and that you would rather smash me, since I am obviously the only one you would rather have. Thank you.”

Chrollo simply looks at you with that persistent calmness and enigmatic smile. His eyes glowing with entertainment and thrill as if he were dissecting the most intricate passages of text. But this time however, he is simply enjoying you and the spectacle before him.

He lets out a breathy laugh at your decisive comments as you point out how he should have presented his answer. Though unbeknownst to you, he deliberately chose ‘smash’ just so he could tease you and watch your cute reactions. And boy did he get a kick out of it.

“Is that so? I wouldn’t be that sure…your selected option for me seemed quite appealing.” Chrollo articulates his reasoning in a poised and nonchalant manner as his grey eyes sparkle with an undertone of slyness. For you, this was the final hammer on the nail and you scoff in evident annoyance while trying to feign passiveness.

“You’re awful. I will be breaking up with you.” You say with scorn and start to rise from the couch before you might actually start throwing hands out of spite and your dissatisfaction with how this seemingly innocent game turned on you.

Before you manage to fully stand up, Chrollo’s hand gently wraps around your wrist and with one swift motion, he efficiently and smoothly tugs you back down towards him and settles you on his lap. You let out a small gasp of surprise and stare at him while he simply offers a rueful smile.

“Now, now don’t get too hasty, my love. You might actually hurt my feelings with your empty threats.” His other hand that wasn’t holding your waist slithers itself onto your thigh, gently squeezing it. Your previously curated irritation and mild jealousy seem to instantaneously dissipate at the notion as you continue to stare into his dark gaze which seems to be more softened and complacent.

“As much as I love to see you becoming agitated and pretending to be unaffected, you should really consider your moves carefully when playing such games with me.” Chrollo’s mild grin persists as he says this. You are about to argue back with a riposte, when suddenly he shifts your position and you find yourself underneath him on the couch while he hovers on top of you.

You gape up at him with parted lips and widened eyes as he leans his face closer to yours and continues to speak in a cool and velvet smooth voice, “You should know by now that you’re the only woman I am crazy about, and not even some top notch celebrity could ever get me as enchanted as you do.”

By now your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at your childish presumptions. How could you ever believe he’d choose someone else over you? Of course he was just teasing you the whole time. The sly bastard. Now, as your eyes meet his steady gaze, you can see the unquestionable truth.

Chrollo smiles gently down at you, before his eyes quickly shift into a devious glint. “The only thing you should know, sweetheart…”, he whispers smoothly as his lips brush your soft cheek as he speaks. He drags his lips to the edge of your jaw and then up to the area of your neck just below your ear. His tone dropping an octave as he breathes salaciously, “…I will never pass up the opportunity to smash you…”

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

Finished this fanfic up instead of doing my 4 page essay due tomorrow. I am cooked.

[yandere-romanticaa]

The moon has risen and the clanking of mugs in the air rings loudly inside the bustling tavern, signaling the end of another working day and the start of a new fun filled evening. Well, for the patrons at least, not the bartender. He didn't mind, despite his stoic face. As per usual, the young master mixed the drinks and created absolute perfection, the colorful liquid shimmering brightly against the light as his fingertips swiftly danced across the wooden counter, serving yet another satisfied customer. They thanked them profusely and he nodded politely, his face neutral and curt. Amongst the hustle and bustle, no one was able to see that the bartenders mind was quite preoccupied.

You were wearing the red dress he had gotten you recently. Diluc could feel the corners of his mouth twitching in excitement as the happiness of the simple gesture made his chest swell with pride.

The dress he had picked out was modest but tasteful. He was no prude by any means, anyone with a pair of proper eyes could see your beauty. He lowered his ruby red eyes up and down your body, admiring each and every curve he could see. Each little bow, every piece of exposed skin - it set his heart ablaze. Diluc licked his upper lip as he felt the tips of his ears turn red, shame overcoming him.

What was he doing? He was no wild animal, he had no right to oogle you in such a manner. He ought to give you the respect you deserve. Yes, perhaps he ought to keep him hands to himself, just to be safe. Maybe later in the evening if he felt brave enough, he could go say hello. Offer you a drink too, non alcoholic, obviously. It was a brand new creation of his, he was curious to hear your thoughts on it. You always gave him such colorful reviews, he couldn't help but to turn you into his unofficially official favorite taste tester.

Besides, he just liked to spoil you with free drinks. It was the least he could do.

And just like that, all was well. The night was slow but he was used to it. He had a lot of energy that evening so he insisted on taking things in stride for the time being. He watched the various patrons enter and exit the bar, all of various ages and genders. Old men past their prime, flocks of young women who he could hear gossiping about him even from the other side of the bar, a few loners here and there, nothing too out of the ordinary.

Taking a glass in his hand, Diluc raised it slightly in the air and pointed it in your direction, an attempt to hide his true motives. To anyone near him it just looked like he was searching for a stain but Diluc knew better.

He could not get his eyes off of you.

Strong fingers gripped the frail glass, a few cracks forming on it as Diluc felt his heart leap straight out from his chest as the sound of your laughter reached his ears. There really was nothing quite like it, no love song, no hymn could ever compare. The man closed his eyes and savored the sound, like one would when eating a decadent chocolate. Lovely and divine, Diluc could already feel the burst of sweetness inside of him, taking over his entire being as he got swept up in the moment.

A moment which was all too cruelly taken away from him once he saw a man place his hand around your waist.

Diluc staggered and choked on the air for a split second, nearly causing a commotion by dropping the glass from his hand. He managed to catch it in a nick of time, it just barely touching the ground.

...That was too close for comfort. The same could be said for that mysterious companion of yours. What was he doing, touching you so carelessly? Even from that far away there was no mistaking the flames of want in that man's eye and if he could, he would steal a kiss from your sweet lips right there and then. Diluc pressed his lips in a tight line as he continued to clean the mugs in a hurried manner, his mind going haywire by the minute.

You remained oblivious to his pining, as did the man. He despised the fact that the sweetness in his heart was gone, replaced with this vile, putrid blob of inky blackness, shredding his insides bit by bit. A few flickers of angry fire accidentally left his fingertips and it took all of Diluc's willpower to not grab the greatsword hidden in the back and slash the man into minced meat. He could already feel the taste of copper in his mouth as the man would scream and scream in the night, but no one would hear him, no would would come to his aid.

Diluc was far too intelligent and rich to ever have such a crime be traced back to him.

Jealousy consumed him, the all too familiar feeling of the green eyed monster was a demon Diluc had to grapple with on a daily basis, and he did not have a clue on how to tame it.

His heart ached for you, it burned for the need to merge your soul with his but for the love of Barbatos, he always promoted to tail you from the shadows instead, shooting himself in the foot in the process. He could not resent you for not being aware of his feelings because he was a fool, a coward too scared of being rejected, forcing him to simmer in his own bitter feeling.

It was torture.

Diluc lowered his gaze downwards and sighed. He recalled the love stories he had read over the years and this was not how he pictured his playing out. All of those stories made the pining sound so romantic and eloquent but he knew better now.

Lies. Those were all lies, he was in Hell and he was angry.

Later in the evening when he could, he was going to strike. He could not risk it, he could not risk you falling for anyone other than him. He was a selfish man and he hated himself for that.

But seeing you in the arms of another... Now that, that made him seethe.

🎀 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @xiaopleasecomehome, @mayulli, @cc-6789, @saturnalya, @alatusprinz, @lakxcpsta, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149

[ladyyatexel]

So, inspired by being treated like dipshit garbage at my job, I would like to make a recommendation:

When you are having a bad time, especially when you are having that bad time because someone was a real fucking shit head at you, go to a store. You can retail therapy if that is useful and not like a slippery slope or something for you, whatever, I'm not your mom, but the critical thing I want to suggest in these situations is to just be very kind to a few people.

Of course you should always be nice to people working in retail environments, because they are frequently being absolutely worked within an inch of their life for not enough money, but here I mean things like:

Tell the folks in the small store at the mall that their store looks really nice and you can tell they work hard to maintain it.

Fill out the little surveys you get on receipts or whatever and be sure to mention especially how good the staff of the store you were in were. People who are mentioned specifically in feedback like this often get at least praise and like a $5 gift card from upper management. It is not a lot, but it can feel nice!

Tell the barista stuck at the coffee shop that their hair looks awesome.

Say the same thing to your fellow lost souls of humanity in Walmart. No one is in Walmart because they are having the best time.

Tell someone her leggings are really cute.

Tell your cashier that you hope that the rest of his shift goes quickly and painlessly!

Thank people, but do it specifically and sincerely. Tell them not just thank you but, "Thanks for your help, I really appreciate your time." "Thanks for the work you put into this." "Thank you for getting that for me, that was really nice of you." That sort of thing. People are used to 'thank you" as a ritual phrase that is just kind of a default. It can stop sounding sincere or like anything except the sounds you expect to hear after you do a task. But if you recognize what somebody did, even if it is a small thing, and personalize it, they will actually hear the thanks, they will remember it.

I often do this on my instacart feedback. I say "Thank you for your hard work/effort/service today, you really helped me out," in all my little comment boxes. Because they really do help me out. I can't carry all my groceries up the stairs, so they do a lot for me.

Don't lie or be insincere, just think a little bit about all the people who could just use a little extra positive feelings from other folks to get through the day, just like you. People like knowing that the work they're doing is not mindless bullshit.

All of these interactions make people feel nice about themselves and then they feel nice about you and then you feel nice about yourself and then your manager who is a dick can fuck off because not only did you get over their poisonous bullshit but you help some other people out of theirs too.

It will help you toward feeling better after people being nasty to you when you see surprised and delighted reactions from other people who didn't expect to be told that they were doing a good job or that their hair looks nice.

It's like a ranged attack of serotonin and dopamine and you can hit just like everybody within range of the checkout line, yourself included.

[timbrhead]

metanoia. | pt 00 - reincarnated, i was stargazin‘

𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨:

>> welcome, my name is 𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐚, and i‘ll be your scriptwriter (^‿^✿). my story will be kind of an choose-your-own-adventure story with a poll at the end of every part, where you can vote how the story continues.

This will be honkai star rail x f!reader story with these elements: reincarnation, slow burn, i gave reader a proper personality (sry, not much customisation there), does not follow the original storyline

>>> next part

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 (this is important);

>> this part includes: descriptions of a panic attack

‚ the sky…was it always so vibrantly blue? ‘

that was the first thing you asked yourself as your eyes fluttered open. it was silent, unusually so, although you couldn’t really compare it to anything else, your mind drew a blank. was your life always this quiet? so calm? you don‘t think so, judging from the fact that you could feel your muscles visibly relaxing from the, possibly most welcome silence, a content, subconscious sigh slipping from your lips as you threatened to doze off again.

it was weird, it was like you were in sort of a trance, your mind carefully balancing the border of reality and the vast dreamscape, as if it had just been born, materialised. you had a feeling that you knew absolutely nothing, even though you knew there was something in your mind reminding you, telling you that you aren’t there, where you are supposed to be.

…

you didn’t know how much time passed till your mind finally broke out of it, the different synapses in your brain finally buzzing in a steady rhythm, allowing you to refocus your eyes, scanning the area around you.

you…were sitting. leaning on a metal crate. are crates made out of metal? you didn’t know. or did you? you shook your head. unimportant. you looked down at your body.

nothing unusual about that as well. you still looked healthy at least, although you couldn’t help an uncomfortable sensation bubbling up from your very core, even if you don’t know how to describe that feeling yet. you had dark blue shorts on, and a shirt draped over your upper body in the same color. no shoes, for some reason. you pressed your lips together in a slight frown at that. how odd. you continued to look around, looking over the endless walls of crates, creating a twisted maze out of them. You could feel an uncomfortable knot in your stomach forming, wondering how you would find back home in the condition you are in, freshly conscious and confused.

home…did you have one? you couldn’t remember. you hoped so. you looked down at your feet, a silent sense of dread creeping up at the realisation how utterly clueless you were. the more aware you became, the more questions emerged. you heard of amnesia before, although you never heard of a case this extreme. you could only remember your name, mei lian. suddenly, a sharp pain courses through your brain. you stop.

…no.

mei lian wasn’t your name. you-no, that you knew for sure, where did that name even come from? and what was your name? as you pondered, the sound of steps rang into your ears. Immediately, you perked up. was it a person?

you took a deep breath, putting your hands on the floor, preparing to push yourself off from the ground on your feet. you never tried it before, so you hoped it worked. the first few tries resulted in an absolute flop. you almost wanted to laugh at yourself as you plopped down on the ground again after the nth time. it reminded you of the protagonist from kill bill, where she tried really hard to wiggle her little toe after breaking out of the hospital. the fact that you remembered something as unsignificant as that and not your government name bewildered you. did you even watch the movie? frustration bubbled up in your chest, resulting in a wave of strength surging through you, directly to your arms.

you let out a grunt when you finally managed to stand up, your muscles screaming at you from being strained again. god, just what did you do before that?

forget that. you needed to get back…home.

you were still a bit wobbly on your feet, legs shaking like a newborn fawn, but you eventually steadied yourself by leaning against crates, taking one step at a time. that was the winning strategy. one step at a time. easy. you could feel your steps getting more and more stable, the soft sound of your bare feet slowly gaining a steady rhythm, walking towards the other pair of steps you heard. you tried to call out, but you also realised that your mouth is incredibly dry, with a weird, copper like taste in your mouth as you swallowed a bit of what little saliva you had left.

you shook your head. now was not the time to think about the taste of your mouth. you could hear the footsteps getting louder, and it seemed like you two would come across each other. thank the lord. you could feel your heart pounding as anxiety bubbled up inside of you, a sense of fear tightly squeezing your beating heart. you don‘t know what kind of people you come across in a place like this, after all.

and then, as you turned a corner, you saw him.

the first thing you noticed was his long, blonde hair. it looked silky and smooth, and you could feel yourself growing envious of the shine they had under the sun (?). the color reminded you of pure sunshine, and watching it flow in the soft wind was utterly mesmerising. green eyes locked with yours, slightly widening at your sight. You couldn’t blame him, you wouldn’t expect to find a random woman in a port (was it a port?) either.

you have never seen vibrant eyes like that before (at least you think so). of course, you knew that people with green eyes exist, you were aware of that, but you think that this was the first time you’ve seen green eyes that were so.. saturated. if he wasn’t standing before you in the flesh, you would probably think that he was a painting, a drawing, a character straight from a fantasy novel. upon further inspection, you could even see little specks of gold weaved into the sea of lush green, making him all the more unique in your eyes.

he was tall, clothed in unique clothing that you haven’t seen before (at least you think you haven’t seen it). he wore a black turtleneck under a white coat, embellished with golden accents, the buttons and brooches designed with so much intricacy and creativity that he almost looked like a professional cosplayer.

you could see him take a step towards you, his eyebrows scrunching up in confusion.

„ …miss, what are you doing here? are you..a worker, by any chance? “

the man spoke, waking you up from your daydream. his voice was awfully soothing. but you forced yourself to go back to what he said. a worker…were you one? did you have a job around here? that would explain why you woke up here, of all places, at least. were you ambushed while working? mugged? you swallowed, gathering your voice to communicate. you tried to think back on what happened, following the path of memory lane to maybe, just maybe, find out your origins. but even as you tried your hardest, there was only a blank canvas to look back on.

suddenly, a pulsing pain shot straight to your brain as you tried to remember. your eyes widen, the stinging sensation still ringing in your ears. what…what was happening?

you could feel your sight growing hazy as the now concerned calls from the man grew more and more muffled, even though you weren’t distancing yourself from him. your mind was drowning in a storm of endless questions, your eyes beginning to tear up as you realised something even more terrifying- it wasn’t just that you didn’t know where you were- you didn’t know who you were either. you had the feeling that your brain was bust wide open, all these little bits and pieces of random information swirling around in a wild tornado, while you were directly in the middle of it, in the eye of the storm.

you could feel your breathing picking up, like you were gasping for air from the way your mind was so empty and full at the same time, the body you were in slowly growing more and more uncomfortable, like you were in the wrong one. this body wasn’t yours.

and that name wasn’t yours either.

you tried your hardest to remember, but only one name came up as you searched through your mind, and you knew for a fact that it wasn’t yours. If you knew one thing, if one thing was now clear to you, this was it -the name, belonging to this body, isn’t yours.

a wave of conflicting emotions bubbled up inside of you, your mind now even further split apart. you felt like an intruder. shamefully possessing something that wasn’t yours, because you had nothing to call truly.. well, a part of you. you weren’t the person you were currently possessing, you were a lie, you were wearing this body like a costume, a costume you couldn’t get rid off-

suddenly, a touch of warmth was felt on your shoulder- a hand. something warm, something familiar. not particularly this specific hand, but the feeling of comfort when someone pats you on the shoulder. you could feel a silent wave of relief wash over you at the feeling of familiarity. that- that at least meant that you had been comforted before. that you weren’t alone your entire life. you look up to the blonde, blinking the tears away you didn’t even know were dripping down your cheeks. he had a concerned expression on his face, his eyebrows scrunched together while his lips curled into a slight frown.

„miss, are you okay?“

he said, his velvety voice cutting through your frenzied emotions like a sharp knife. he grabbed your hand, letting you sit down against one of the crates again.

„what is your name, miss?“

he inquired, seemingly trying to distract you from your panic attack, which you appreciated. but at the question to what your name was, you began shaking again, your emotions bubbling up your throat again, threatening to come out. the man seemed to notice, making him immediately attempt to soothe you by gripping your shoulders, letting his hand rub your arms soothingly.

„ you can call me luocha, i’m a…“

he seemed to ponder for a bit.

„ …travelling merchant. but i‘m also well versed in medicine, so if there is anything you need, please-“

he said, making you slowly but surely, calm down for a bit. he…he seemed nice. he needed to be, helping a complete stranger with her panic attack in the middle of a trade port. you contemplated your next answer carefully. you didn’t want to scare him away by saying all the weird things you feel about your identity, he was your only way back to potential civillization, after all. you didn’t want to, but playing it safe and introducing yourself with that fake persona might also be an option.

so, with the introduction of luocha, the prologue ends on a cliffhanger! please don’t forget to vote what the reader should do next!

- xoxo, laina