#muse: Caliber

[deathmimedream]

@real-pirate-king

@deathmimedream

“Nah, but it’s no fun when I don’t get a chance to play too, were you just going to sneak off and let me oversleep?”

He crossed his arms and mock-pouted.

“At least come back for breakfast. Crime is easier when you don’t have an empty stomach. I’ll make you something yummy.”

“YOU CAN ROLL YOUR EYES AND BE SARCASTIC ALL YOU WANT, BUT YOU ARE STILL COMMITTING A CRIME!” The tall, dreadlocked Goth accused from the balcony, glowing blue eyes full of laughter.

Caliber never meant it when he teased the pirate king, but sometimes he wasn’t sure if Vaas was aware of that.

The pirate king smirked as he turned around. "Oh yeah, and who's going to fucking tell on me here? You?" A chuckle escaped him as he took out a cigar and lit it, knowing that the other wasn't going to do anything about it. He may be bigger than him, but Vaas knew that he could slip away if needed.

[qqchurch]

combat-wise, I wonder if there's a confirmed kill by a Gundam's head-mounted vulcans, because they're pretty ubiquitous in Gundam designs but they only really get used either for their intended purpose (intercepting missiles and other projectiles) or as a last resort to hold off anyone getting close to them

the only notable "does significant damage to their opponent" vulcan scene was like..... that Build Fighters duel between Build Strike Full Package vs Zaku Amazing + Amazing Binder and that was basically the two essentially running out of every single one of their weapons until they double KO'd each other

[gemscales-and-tea]

Incidentally: Muses sassing 'Gabriel' when he's being terrifying will very rarely be responded to.

[odileeclipse]

In the Presence of Truth {"Sage of Truth" (SMC) x Reader} PT 7

<<<Previous Next>>>

As you made your way to your next class, you spotted Earl Grey Cookie up ahead, his steady pace making it easy to catch up to him. Unlike Chai Latte Cookie, who had spent the entire lab period finding new ways to tease you, Earl Grey Cookie who wasn't in your lab section was far more reserved. He wouldn’t pry not unless he saw a reason to. Still, as soon as you fell into step beside him, he glanced at you with a measured look. "You’re unusually quiet," he observed. You let out a breath. "I’m just… thinking." Earl Grey Cookie adjusted the books in his arms. "Chai Latte Cookie was relentless again, I assume?" "You assume correctly." You groaned, rubbing your temples. "She and Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie both." Earl Grey Cookie hummed knowingly. "I had a feeling." You shot him a tired look. "Are you all in on this?" He raised an eyebrow. "On what, exactly?" You hesitated. "…Whatever this is." Earl Grey Cookie studied you for a moment before shaking his head. "I assure you, I have no particular stake in whatever is going on between you and the Sage of Truth." Your face burned. "There is nothing going on." His expression remained neutral, but you caught the faintest trace of amusement in his eyes. "If you say so." You groaned again, quickening your pace as if that would somehow escape the conversation. Earl Grey Cookie easily matched your stride. "I take it the lab was… eventful?"

You hesitated, then sighed. "It was fine. It was good, actually. I didn’t mess anything up. And the Sage of Truth was" You paused, struggling for the right words. "Patient?" Earl Grey Cookie offered. "Obviously," you said, exasperated. "But also… not as intimidating as I thought he’d be in a setting like that." Earl Grey Cookie gave a thoughtful nod. "I see." "You see?" you echoed, narrowing your eyes. "What do you see?" He glanced at you, entirely composed. "That you seem far more comfortable around him than before." You faltered slightly. “Well" "You even spoke to him casually at the end of class, Chai Latte sent me a note" he continued, adjusting his glasses. Your face grew warm as you recalled your offhanded comment about his hat. You hadn’t even thought before speaking it had just come naturally. Earl Grey Cookie took your silence as confirmation. "Interesting," he murmured. You scowled. "I don’t like the way you said that." He merely shrugged. "Then perhaps you should reflect on why it bothers you." You had no response to that, and he knew it. The rest of the walk was quiet, but your thoughts were anything but.

You settled into your seat, Earl Grey Cookie taking his usual spot beside you while Chai Latte Cookie and Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie sat across from you. The moment you sat down, Chai Latte Cookie gave you a knowing look, but thankfully said nothing just yet. You busied yourself with your notes, pretending to review them as if you weren’t acutely aware of the way your friends were just waiting to bring up the lab. "So," Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie started, leaning back in his chair, "how was your grand alchemical adventure?" "It was fine," you answered, keeping your voice even. "No disasters, no explosions. I think that’s a win." Chai Latte Cookie hummed, tilting her head. "And how was working with the Sage of Truth?" You rolled your eyes. "Like I said, fine." Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie smirked. "Just fine?" You resisted the urge to groan. "He’s patient. He listens. He actually explains things in a way that makes sense." You shrugged. "It’s… nice." Earl Grey Cookie nodded slightly, unsurprised. "A scholar of his caliber wouldn’t be where he is if he weren’t an excellent teacher." "Exactly," you agreed, grateful for his measured response. Chai Latte Cookie, however, was far less subtle. She propped her chin on her hands, watching you intently. "So you like working with him?" You blinked. "I mean… yeah?" "Mm-hmm," she mused. You narrowed your eyes. "Not like that." Chai Latte Cookie giggled. "Sure, sure. Just infatuation, then?" You bristled. "It’s not" You sighed, trying to find the right words. "It’s just… he’s him. He’s the Sage of Truth. He’s someone I’ve admired for a long time, someone I never thought I’d have a chance to learn from. And now that I am, it feels… I don’t know. Validating?" Earl Grey Cookie gave a small nod of understanding. "It makes sense. He’s giving you the time and attention to actually learn, something you’ve struggled to find elsewhere."

"Exactly," you said, relieved that someone understood. Chai Latte Cookie smiled softly, some of her teasing edge fading. "I get it," she said. "It’s not about a crush, it’s about finally being heard." You nodded, grateful. "Yeah." Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie let out a low chuckle. "Alright, alright. No romance, just admiration." He held up his hands in surrender. "We’ll stop teasing. For now." You groaned. "Thanks, I guess." Chai Latte Cookie beamed. "Of course! What are friends for?" Before you could respond, the professor walked in, and the classroom settled into a quiet hum of focus. As the lecture began, you found yourself actually engaged…not just lost in the material, but understanding it. And maybe, just maybe, you had the Sage of Truth to thank for that.

As class came to an end, you meticulously finished jotting down the last of your notes before closing your notebook with a satisfied sigh. You felt confident about the material, something that was becoming a rare but welcome feeling lately. As you packed up, Chai Latte Cookie stretched her arms above her head with a dramatic groan. "Ugh, I still have another class after this. You’re so lucky you’re done for the day." Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie let out a tired sigh. "Seriously. I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat." Earl Grey Cookie adjusted his bag with a small nod. "At least one of us gets to escape." You gave them a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Yeah, lucky me." You were technically free for the day now, and yet… something felt off. It wasn’t like you wanted another class, but the absence of your usual study session with the Sage of Truth left an odd, empty space in your schedule. Normally, at this time, you’d be meeting him in his study, going over complex theories, having things explained in ways that finally made sense. Now? You had nowhere to be. "Well, enjoy your freedom," Chai Latte Cookie said, nudging you lightly. "We’ll be suffering while you get to do whatever you want." "You could use the time to review," Earl Grey Cookie suggested. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie snorted. "Or, you know, actually relax for once." You nodded absentmindedly, already lost in thought. It wasn’t like you needed to meet with the Sage of Truth today. You could still study on your own. But… it wouldn’t be the same. Pushing the thought aside, you waved to your friends as you parted ways, stepping out into the crisp afternoon air. Maybe you’d go to the library, just to keep up the routine. After all, there was still plenty to learn even if today, you’d have to do it alone. As you stepped out of the lecture halls, the thought of heading to the library weighed on your mind but something about sitting in a dimly lit room surrounded by towering shelves didn’t appeal to you today. Instead, your feet carried you toward a place far more inviting, a place where your mind felt at ease no matter how much pressure weighed on your shoulders  the Academy Gardens. Nestled within the heart of Blueberry Yogurt Academy, the gardens stretched out like a living tapestry of color and tranquility. Enclosed by grand archways of ivy-wrapped stone, it was a sanctuary away from the stress of academia, where nature and magic intertwined effortlessly. The winding cobblestone paths gleamed faintly under the enchanted lanterns hanging from wrought-iron posts, their glow adjusting seamlessly with the passing hours. Blooms of every imaginable hue flourished here soft lilac petals that shimmered under the sunlight, golden blossoms that pulsed with warmth like tiny captured suns, and deep indigo flowers whose edges sparkled with a silvery dust, as though kissed by the night sky itself.

Most striking of all were the Willow Trees, their branches arching high overhead. They cast dappled, ever-moving shadows along the pathways, and whenever a breeze passed through, the leaves whispered softly, their glow brightening for the briefest moment before settling back into a gentle luminescence. You found your favorite spot, a stone bench beneath one of the largest Willow Trees, tucked beside a reflecting pool that mirrored the sky in perfect clarity, save for the occasional ripple when a koi-like, ethereal creature breached the surface before vanishing into the depths. The faint scent of night-blooming jasmine lingered in the air, blending with the crisp, earthy aroma of the old stone and the damp greenery around you. Here, the rest of the world felt distant. You set your things down, exhaling as you pulled out your notes. Maybe studying alone wouldn’t be so bad. At least here, in the gardens, you could breathe. You could think. As you opened your notebook and began reviewing the day’s lesson, the soft rustling of the trees and the rhythmic trickle of a small nearby fountain filled the silence. It wasn’t quite the same as a study session with the Sage of Truth, but in this moment, you could almost pretend that everything was exactly as it should be. You tapped the end of your quill against the open page of your notebook, staring down at the magical reaction problem scrawled before you. It was a complex equation, one that required a thorough breakdown of the reagents, their properties, and how they interacted with one another. Normally, this would be the part where you turned to someone for guidance. But today, you were on your own. Frowning, you traced the components of the reaction with your fingertip, murmuring their names under your breath. "Alright… First, the infusion of Lunar Essence acts as the catalyst… but why? It must have an affinity with" Your mind wandered. You could almost hear the voice of the Sage of Truth calm, refined, and laced with quiet amusement. "A fascinating line of thought" you imagined him saying, tilting his head just so, his ornate hat casting a shadow over his inquisitive gaze. "What properties of Lunar Essence make it such an effective catalyst? Surely, you’re not relying on mere intuition, are you?" You huffed at the imaginary version of him, shaking your head as you refocused. "Fine," you muttered to yourself, tapping the quill once more. "Lunar Essence… it interacts with Arcane Silver, which means… conductivity? No, it’s not just that"

"Ah, close but not quite." The voice in your head chimed again, ever patient, ever teasing. "Rather than searching for the answer outright, consider the nature of the reaction itself. What is being transmuted?" You bit your lip, your thoughts unraveling at his nonexistent prompting. "The base solution shifts from liquid to crystalline structure at the end… That must mean there’s a stabilizing component… That’s why the Lunar Essence works! It binds with the Arcane Silver to create a structured lattice, reinforcing the transmutation!" There was no one around to see the small, triumphant smile that crossed your face, but you could still hear the imagined approval in his voice. "Now, was that so difficult?" You rolled your eyes, as if he had actually spoken, before shaking your head at yourself. Maybe you had spent too much time studying under him if you were beginning to hear his critiques in your own thoughts. Still, there was a certain comfort in it. You sighed, stretching your arms over your head before leaning back against the cool stone of the bench. Studying alone might not have been as productive as a session with him, but at the very least, you felt like you were getting somewhere. Even if, in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but wonder what he might have said had he been here in person. The afternoon melted away as you poured over your work, lost in the steady rhythm of flipping pages, scribbling notes, and working through complex magical formulas. The gardens, with their soft rustling leaves and faint scent of enchanted flora, had lulled you into a state of focus so deep that time itself seemed to blur. Only when your stomach gave an audible grumble did you finally look up, blinking as if waking from a trance. The sky had darkened, the warm hues of twilight fading into the deep blues of night. You frowned, glancing around the once sunlit pathways were now bathed in the glow of enchanted lanterns, their soft light casting gentle ripples on the stone walkways. How long had you been here?

Gathering your things, you quickly made your way to the dining hall, your pace picking up when another wave of hunger hit you. By the time you arrived, the massive chamber was nearly empty. Only a few scattered students lingered at distant tables, their voices hushed in quiet conversation or lost in their own late-night meals. You exhaled, rubbing your eyes as you approached the serving area. The kitchen staff had begun winding down for the evening, but thankfully, there were still a few options left. You hastily grabbed a simple plate of food before making your way to an empty table near the large arched windows. The quiet was… strange. Normally, the dining hall buzzed with energy. Friends chatting animatedly, scholars discussing their latest research, the clatter of trays and utensils filling the vast space. But now, with so few students remaining, the usual liveliness had dulled into something much softer. You took a slow bite of your meal, staring out the window at the distant lights flickering across the academy grounds. For the first time all day, you allowed yourself to relax, your mind drifting back to your studies, your work… and, inevitably, the way you had been imagining the Sage of Truth’s voice guiding you earlier. A small, tired chuckle escaped you. Maybe you needed to step away from your books for a bit. Or maybe… you just needed an actual tutoring session.

The next morning, the first thing you noticed was how heavy your limbs felt. Your body protested against movement, exhaustion clinging to you like a thick fog. Every muscle felt sluggish, your mind dull and slow. You cracked open your eyes just enough to see the soft morning light filtering through your window, golden rays spilling across the floor. Normally, this was the moment you'd sigh and force yourself up, mentally preparing for the long day ahead. But today…Today, you just couldn’t. Your eyes slipped shut again. Maybe it was the late night, or the fact that you'd worked yourself into near delirium in the gardens. Maybe it was skipping a proper dinner or the mental exhaustion of studying without guidance. Whatever it was, the idea of leaving the warmth of your blankets felt unbearable. You exhaled, shifting slightly under the covers. You had classes today. Things to do. A schedule to keep. But the moment you thought of pulling yourself out of bed, a deep, gnawing fatigue weighed you down again. Just this once. Just one day. It wasn’t like you made a habit of skipping. And it wasn’t like you weren’t trying your hardest. With that justification settling in your mind, you curled deeper into your blankets, letting the world outside your dorm continue without you. A few hours passed in a haze of half-sleep and fleeting thoughts. The soft sounds of the academy bustling beyond your window barely registered. You drifted in and out, torn between resting and the nagging guilt of missing class.

You don’t know how much time it’s been but…Knock, knock, knock! The sudden, insistent rapping against your door made you jolt, your heart skipping a beat. For a brief moment, you considered ignoring it, hoping whoever it was would just assume you weren’t in and leave. No such luck. "Hey! We know you're in there," came Chai Latte Cookie’s singsong voice, muffled slightly by the door. "Are you seriously skipping?" Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie’s voice followed, far less amused. "If you’re sick, just say that. Otherwise, you have zero excuses." Another knock firmer this time. "You’re usually up by now," Earl Grey Cookie chimed in, ever composed. "What’s going on?" You groaned, burying your face into your pillow before sighing deeply. There was no escaping them. Dragging yourself up, you shuffled to the door and cracked it open just enough to peek through. Immediately, Chai Latte Cookie pushed against it with a knowing smirk. "Aha! You are in here." "You say that like I was hiding," you mumbled, voice hoarse from disuse. "Were you?" she countered, raising a brow. You exhaled, leaning against the doorframe. "I was just… tired." Earl Grey Cookie studied you for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. "You do look exhausted." "Yeah, because I am," you admitted. "I just… I needed a day." Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie crossed his arms. "Okay, fair. But it’s afternoon now. You can’t just waste the whole day in bed." Chai Latte Cookie nodded in agreement, hands on her hips. "Exactly! Come on, get dressed. Let’s at least do something." You sighed again, rubbing your face. "Do I have to?" "Yes," all three of them answered at once. You let out a tired chuckle, shaking your head. "Alright, alright. Just… give me a minute." As they stepped back to wait, you shut the door and let out a deep breath. It wasn’t like you had any real reason to stay in bed now. And besides being with them sounded a little better than being alone with your own tired thoughts.

After quickly running a hand through your hair in a futile attempt to make yourself look somewhat presentable, you opened the door fully. Chai Latte Cookie took one look at you and stifled a giggle, while Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie just shook his head. "You look like you lost a battle with your pillow," he remarked dryly. You sighed. "Yeah, well, my pillow put up a good fight." Earl Grey Cookie gave you a once-over, then nodded in approval. "At least you're up now. That’s progress." Stretching your arms with a quiet yawn, you glanced at them with mild suspicion. "So… what exactly are we doing? Because if this is some elaborate plot to drag me halfway across the academy, I’d like to remind you that I still have studying to do later." Chai Latte Cookie waved a dismissive hand. "Don’t worry, we’ll keep it chill for your sake." "Define chill," you pressed. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie smirked. "Some fresh air, maybe a stop at the café, definitely no surprise study sessions." "You’re not gonna start quizzing me mid-bite, are you?" "No promises," Chai Latte Cookie teased, nudging your arm. You groaned dramatically, but truthfully, the idea didn’t sound half bad. A little time away from books wouldn’t kill you especially considering how drained you felt. "Fine, fine," you relented, stepping out into the hallway. "But if I start falling asleep at the table, it’s on you." Earl Grey Cookie hummed thoughtfully. "If that happens, I’ll simply take notes on how long it takes for you to drool on yourself." You shot him a tired glare as your friends laughed, guiding you down the hall and out into the afternoon light.

As you reluctantly picked up your fork and took a bite of the pastry in front of you, the flaky layers practically melted on your tongue, the sweetness just enough to be satisfying without being overwhelming. Chai Latte Cookie beamed as she watched you eat.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" she teased, propping her chin up with both hands. You swallowed, giving her a flat look. "I was going to eat anyway." "Uh-huh, sure," Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie drawled, leaning back in his chair. "If we hadn't put food in front of you, you'd still be staring into space like some tragic figure from an old play." You snorted. "Dramatic much?" "I'm just saying," he continued, smirking. "First, you forget to eat dinner. Now you're dragging yourself through the day like a zombie. Next thing we know, you'll start reciting poetry about your suffering." He placed a hand over his heart mockingly. "Oh, woe is me, for I have studied too hard and now-" Earl Grey Cookie cut him off with a tired sigh. "Enough. Let them eat in peace." Chai Latte Cookie giggled. "You do have a bad habit of pushing yourself too hard, though. Even if you don’t have a fever, exhaustion isn’t something you can just ignore. What if you collapse in the middle of your study session?" "I won’t," you insisted, taking another bite. "You say that now," Earl Grey Cookie mused, adjusting his glasses. "But if you push yourself too far, the consequences will catch up to you eventually." You waved them off. "I know my limits." "Do you?" Chai Latte Cookie challenged, arching a brow. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie laughed. "At this point, I think Shadow Milk Cookie…er, the Sage of Truth knows your limits better than you do."

You nearly choked on your pastry. "What?" Chai Latte Cookie grinned. "Oh, come on. He probably can tell. The guy is a walking encyclopedia. No way he hasn't noticed how hard you’ve been pushing yourself." You groaned. "Can we not bring him into this?" Earl Grey Cookie, ever the composed one, merely took another sip of his tea. "It is an amusing observation, though. You’ve been more diligent than ever since you started studying with him." "Because I'm actually learning," you emphasized. "That's the whole point of studying with him. That doesn't mean he knows my limits better than I do." "You do get this weird look in your eyes whenever you talk about him, though," Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie pointed out. "I do not," you said, exasperated. "You totally do," Chai Latte Cookie added. "Like you're both in awe of him and terrified of disappointing him." Earl Grey Cookie hummed thoughtfully. "A mixture of admiration and fear. Interesting combination." You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. "You all need hobbies." "This is our hobby," Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie said with a smirk. Chai Latte Cookie laughed. "You walked right into that one." Despite your exasperation, a small smile tugged at your lips. Even if they teased you relentlessly, you appreciated that they cared. Before long, your plate was empty, and the time had come for your study session. You stood, grabbing your things. "Alright, I should head out." "Try not to pass out in front of the Sage of Truth," Chai Latte Cookie teased. You rolled your eyes. "I'll be fine." Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie gave a lazy wave. "If you suddenly gain the ability to see the truth of the universe from sheer exhaustion, let us know." "I'll be sure to document my findings," you shot back dryly before turning to leave. Earl Grey Cookie’s voice followed you as you walked away. "Don’t push yourself too hard." With their words lingering in your mind, you made your way toward your study session, already steeling yourself for whatever awaited you.

The walk to your study session felt longer than usual. The late afternoon air carried a gentle breeze, rustling through the towering trees that lined the Academy’s stone pathways. Normally, you would have taken in the sight the golden light filtering through the leaves, the distant hum of other students finishing their day but today, your steps felt heavier. You rolled your shoulders back in an attempt to shake off the sluggishness, adjusting the strap of your bag. You had been looking forward to this session all day, yet now, with the weight of exhaustion creeping in, you worried you wouldn't be able to focus. As you neared the study hall, you caught sight of the tall, arched windows leading into his office. The Sage of Truth was already inside, his elaborate coat flowing as he moved between bookshelves, retrieving a heavy tome with ease. Even from here, you could see how effortlessly he carried himself graceful, poised, every movement deliberate. You hesitated just outside, catching a glimpse of your own reflection in the glass. Your uniform was neat enough, but there was no hiding the slight tiredness clinging to your expression, the subtle droop of your eyelids.

You exhaled slowly, smoothing a hand over your hair and straightening your posture. You’re fine. You can handle this. Another breath. Then you stepped forward, pushing the door open just enough to slip inside. The soft creak of the door made Shadow Milk Cookie glance up, his golden eyes gleaming under the warm light of the arcane lamps. He set the book down on the desk, his expression unreadable as he observed you. "Ah," he said, voice smooth and rich. "You are here. Punctual, as always." You nodded, forcing a small smile. "Of course. I wouldn’t miss it." His gaze lingered for a fraction longer than you expected, as if studying you for something just beyond the surface. You held still, hoping he wouldn’t comment on the exhaustion weighing on your limbs.Instead, he gestured to the desk, where a series of scrolls and open books were already laid out. "Come. There is much to discuss." Relieved, you stepped forward, hoping your sluggishness wouldn’t betray you. As you set your bag down and took a seat, you glanced over the array of books and scrolls sprawled across the desk. Some of the texts looked familiar old tomes on magical theory and transmutation but others were written in a script you didn’t immediately recognize. You folded your hands on the table, keeping your posture as composed as possible. "So… what are we discussing today?"

Shadow Milk Cookie settled into his seat across from you, fingers tapping lightly against the cover of a particularly aged book. "Ah, an excellent question," he mused, his voice carrying the same theatrical lilt as ever, though tempered with the scholarly patience you had come to recognize. "Today, we will be delving into the intricacies of arcane catalysts those most vital elements that transform mere magic into tangible phenomena." You nodded slowly, your brain already working to process the subject. "Catalysts… like the ones used in alchemical reactions?" "Precisely." He leaned forward slightly, golden eyes bright with enthusiasm. "But far beyond the mundane applications you are accustomed to. We shall explore not only what makes a catalyst effective, but how the very nature of magic itself dictates its function. Why, for instance, does one material spark a reaction, while another, seemingly similar, remains inert?" Your gaze flickered to the books again, taking in the careful notes scribbled in the margins. The topic was interesting, but you could already feel the weight of fatigue pressing at the edges of your focus. Still, you straightened in your seat, pushing through it. "That sounds… really complex." Shadow Milk Cookie gave a small, knowing smile. "Ah, but what is knowledge if not a challenge to be unraveled?" His tone was light, but something in his gaze sharpened, studying you in a way that made you feel like he could see straight through your composed exterior.

You quickly averted your eyes to the open book in front of you, forcing yourself to concentrate. No matter how exhausted you were, you would keep up today. You hesitated for a moment, your fingers idly tracing the edge of the open book before you finally admitted, in a quieter voice than usual, "I… wasn’t in lecture today." Shadow Milk Cookie, who had just begun to unfurl a scroll, paused. His gaze lifted from the parchment to meet yours, unreadable yet perceptive in a way that made your stomach twist with unease. "Ah," he said simply, his tone not one of disappointment, nor judgment, but curiosity. "And am I correct in assuming that today’s absence was… not intentional?" You swallowed, not trusting yourself to meet his eyes. "No, it wasn’t. I just" You sighed, shaking your head. "I wasn’t feeling great. Ended up staying in my dorm." For a beat, he was silent, though you could feel the weight of his contemplation. "I see," he finally said, voice measured. "Then I must ask, did you push yourself to come here despite still feeling unwell?" You opened your mouth, instinctively wanting to deny it, to say you were fine. But you hesitated. Lying wouldn’t get you anywhere with him. You settled for a small shrug. "I didn’t want to miss another chance to study." Shadow Milk Cookie regarded you for another long moment before exhaling a soft chuckle. "A commendable sentiment, but hardly necessary to jeopardize your well-being over. If you had informed me, I would have gladly rescheduled." You felt your face heat slightly, though you weren’t sure if it was out of embarrassment or something else. "I didn’t want to make it seem like I was slacking off."

At that, he tilted his head slightly, studying you with the same careful consideration he reserved for difficult inquiries. "Dedication is admirable, but one must also recognize their own limits. Pushing forward without care will not yield the clarity of truth, only exhaustion." You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding slightly. "So… is the material we’re going over from today’s lecture?" He sat back, fingers steepled beneath his chin. "In part, yes. However, given the circumstances, I will tailor our discussion accordingly." He gestured to the book in front of you. "Let us begin with the foundation, then build from there." You let out a quiet breath of relief, nodding as you reached for your notes. Even in your sluggish state, you could at least try to keep up. You tried truly, you did. At first, you followed along well enough, nodding when appropriate, scribbling notes in the margins of your book, even managing to answer a few of Shadow Milk Cookie’s guiding questions. But the longer you stared at the equations, the intricate magical symbols detailing reaction pathways, the more they blurred together into an indecipherable mess. Numbers, symbols, and theoretical principles tangled in your mind like a pile of frayed threads. Your brain felt slow, sluggish, as if wading through honey. You blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the haze creeping in. “…And so, by introducing a stabilizing agent at this stage,” Shadow Milk Cookie continued, his voice steady and patient, “one ensures the reaction maintains its integrity without risk of volatility.” You nodded absentmindedly, but your silence stretched too long. "Would you care to summarize that principle for me?" he prompted, not unkindly. Your mind scrambled, grasping at something anything to hold onto, but it was like trying to cup water in your hands. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, realizing you had no idea what he had just said. “…Uh.” You stared down at your notes, hoping the words on the page would jog your memory, but they may as well have been written in a foreign language. Shadow Milk Cookie observed you in silence for a moment before tilting his head slightly. “You are unfocused.” You winced. "I No, I’m just" He held up a hand, stopping you before you could force out an excuse. “I do not mean it as a reprimand,” he assured. “Rather, an observation.” His eyes flickered to your posture shoulders slumped, head propped lazily against your palm, exhaustion clinging to you like an extra layer of robes. “Your mind is elsewhere, entangled in weariness.” You exhaled through your nose, rubbing your temples. “…Yeah.” There was no use denying it. "I don’t know why, but my brain just feels… messy." Shadow Milk Cookie hummed, his gaze contemplative. “Then perhaps further study is not what you require at this moment.” You blinked, lifting your head slightly. "Wait you’re saying we should stop?" “I am saying that persistence, when ineffective, must be reconsidered.” He clasped his hands together, resting them atop the table. "What do you believe will come of forcing yourself through material while in such a state?" You hesitated. "…Not much, I guess." He gave a small, approving nod. “Indeed. You are fatigued, and continuing in this manner will serve only to muddle your thoughts further.” He leaned back slightly. “Therefore, a pause is in order.” You frowned. "A… pause?"

"A temporary reprieve. A clearing of the mind." He gestured vaguely to the dimming sky outside the window. "Perhaps a walk through the academy gardens. A moment to breathe and realign your thoughts before returning to your studies with renewed clarity." You hesitated, glancing back at your notes. "But… I should really" "You should really allow yourself the same patience you so generously extend to your studies," he countered gently. You fell quiet. It was strange had anyone else told you to stop studying, you might have brushed them off. But something about the way he phrased it, the unwavering certainty in his voice, made you second-guess yourself. Maybe… Maybe he was right. You hesitated for a moment before gathering the nerve to ask, “Would you… come with me?” Shadow Milk Cookie regarded you curiously. “I mean,” you rushed to add, “I’d rather not walk the afternoon halls alone. Might make it seem like I don’t have friends.” You attempted a lighthearted chuckle to mask the awkwardness of your request. For a moment, he said nothing, merely watching you with an unreadable expression. Then, with a slight incline of his head, he replied, “Very well. If you would have my company.” You blinked, half-expecting him to decline. “…Really?” “Of course,” he said simply, standing from his seat with practiced elegance. “A scholar should always strive to seek balance, and if a walk is what is needed to restore focus, then I see no reason to refuse.” You felt an odd mix of relief and though you hated to admit it a little warmth at the idea of walking with him. The halls, especially in the later hours of the day, could be eerily quiet, filled only with the faint echoes of footsteps or the distant murmur of those finishing their own studies. Having him beside you made the idea of wandering them feel less… lonely.

As you both exited the study room, the soft flicker of enchanted lanterns lined the corridors, casting gentle, swaying shadows along the stone walls. The academy had always carried a grand, almost otherworldly air, but in this stillness, with only the quiet cadence of your steps and the distant rustling of parchment from an unseen study, it felt almost intimate. “So,” you started, glancing up at him, “Do you always agree to accompany struggling students on impromptu walks?” Shadow Milk Cookie chuckled a sound so rare you almost stopped in your tracks. “You presume many students ask such things of me.” You frowned. “You mean they don’t?” He shook his head. “Rarely. Most find my presence more daunting than inviting.” You huffed a small laugh. “I guess I can see that. You are kind of… overwhelming.” His brow arched ever so slightly, amusement flickering in his gaze. “Overwhelming?”

“In a scholarly way,” you clarified quickly. “You have this… presence about you. Like you always know exactly what to say, how to say it. Like you have all the answers.” He hummed in thought. “And does that overwhelm you?” You opened your mouth to answer but hesitated. Did it? When you had first started studying under him, absolutely. But now…You shook your head. “Not really. At least, not anymore.” There was a pause, then a small nod from him. “I am pleased to hear that.” You weren’t sure why that made your chest feel oddly lighter. The two of you made your way toward the academy gardens, You didn’t notice he was the one following you. That for once you were the guiding light he didn’t even question where you went. The air was cooler with the approaching evening, you realized that despite your exhaustion you weren’t dreading the walk at all. If anything, you found yourself grateful for it.

The quiet hum of your footsteps filled the corridor, the soft flicker of lanterns casting elongated shadows along the stone walls. You had walked these halls plenty of times before, but something about the silence about his presence beside you made them feel different tonight. Your fingers toyed absentmindedly with the hem of your sleeve as you finally found the courage to speak. "Sage of Truth," you began, keeping your voice even, "are you ever afraid of disappointing people?" He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, his gaze remained forward, eyes reflecting the glow of passing lanterns. It was rare for you to ask something so direct, but the question had been sitting at the back of your mind for a while now. He was the Sage of Truth…renowned, revered. People looked to him for guidance, for knowledge, for answers. And yet, no one could possibly meet every expectation placed upon them. Could they? Shadow Milk Cookie finally spoke, his tone even but thoughtful. "An interesting question," he mused. "What brings it to mind?" You hesitated. "Well… you always seem so sure of yourself. So certain. Like you always have the right answer. But doesn’t that… feel like a lot sometimes?"

He was silent again, and for a moment, you wondered if you'd overstepped. But then, in a voice quieter than usual, he answered, "Truth does not waver but those who seek it sometimes do." You blinked, trying to parse his meaning. He glanced at you then, the weight of his gaze measured but not unkind. "Expectation is a natural burden of knowledge," he continued. "There are many who look to me for certainty, for answers they themselves cannot find. To disappoint them would be to shake the foundation upon which they rely." You frowned. "That sounds… exhausting." "Perhaps," he admitted. "But it is the path I have chosen. And if truth is to be sought, it must be upheld without hesitation." You chewed on his words, absorbing them. It made sense, in a way his devotion to truth was unwavering, a constant in an ever-changing world. And yet… "You didn’t answer my question," you pointed out softly. Shadow Milk Cookie paused mid-step, turning his head slightly to regard you. You tilted your chin up, meeting his gaze despite the nervous flutter in your chest. "You said disappointing people would shake their foundation. But does that mean you're afraid of it?" For the first time since you'd met him, he did not have an immediate answer. Instead, he merely held your gaze for a long, unreadable moment before continuing forward. And though he never gave you a direct response, the silence that followed felt like an answer in itself. You walked a little slower now, your thoughts pressing down on you heavier than before. His silence had left something lingering in the air, something uncertain, unspoken. Maybe that was why you felt brave enough to say it. "I'm afraid of disappointing people too," you admitted, your voice quiet, but clear.

Shadow Milk Cookie glanced at you, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the corridor. "I don't have truth like you do," you continued, fidgeting with your sleeve. "But it still feels like people expect me to be great someday. Like there’s some version of me that I’m supposed to become, and everyone’s just waiting for me to get there." You exhaled sharply, your words coming faster now, as if saying them any slower might make you second-guess them. "But what if I can’t? What if I never do? And if I don’t….if I never become what they expect then… what am I supposed to do?" You let the question hang between you, raw and uncertain. For a long moment, Shadow Milk Cookie simply walked beside you, his usual theatrical confidence subdued into something more reflective. Then, softly, he said, "A curious predicament indeed." You huffed, rubbing your temples. "I was hoping for something a little more reassuring than that." The edges of his lips twitched maybe in thought. "And what would you prefer I say?" "I don’t know," you admitted. "Maybe something like, 'It’s okay not to have all the answers yet' or 'Your worth isn’t tied to what other people expect of you.'" Shadow Milk Cookie hummed. "Wise words. And yet, you already know them." You frowned. "That doesn’t make it easier." "No," he agreed, "it does not." He slowed his steps slightly, glancing down at you. "But, do you seek greatness for your own sake, or simply to meet the expectations set before you?" You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You hadn’t really thought about it like that before. Shadow Milk Cookie folded his hands behind his back. "Truth is not about meeting expectations, it is about uncovering what is real, even when it is difficult. If you do not know whether you can be what they expect of you, then the first step is to ask yourself  Do you wish to be?" You frowned, staring at the floor as you walked. It was such a simple question. And yet, for all your worrying, you hadn’t considered it before. "...I don’t know," you admitted after a long pause. "And that is also an answer," he said. "For now." You glanced up at him, watching as he walked with the same surety as always. It wasn’t the perfect reassurance you had hoped for. He hadn’t told you that you were going to be great or that everything would be fine.

But maybe that was okay. Maybe just knowing that you weren’t the only one who carried that fear was enough for now. You let the weight of the conversation settle for a moment, the quiet stretching between you both. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy, too heavy for how tired you already felt. So, naturally, you decided to do what you always did when things got too serious. You tried to make a joke. With a sidelong glance at the Sage of Truth, you let out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, at least if I do disappoint everyone, I’ll always have a future as a mediocre scholar who somehow manages to set their own notes on fire.” His lips twitched, but he said nothing. Not good enough, huh? You tried again. “Or maybe I’ll start my own school. A sanctuary for all those who are equally confused by magic theory. The Academy for the Terminally Hopeless.” Still nothing. You narrowed your eyes. "Come on. That was at least a little funny." Shadow Milk Cookie hummed, pretending to consider. "Mildly amusing, at best." You gasped, clutching your chest dramatically. "Mildly? Mildly? I’ll have you know that was quality humor, Sage of Truth. You just don’t appreciate my genius." He gave you a sidelong look, his tone entirely deadpan. "Ah, my sincerest apologies. How could I ever fail to recognize the sheer brilliance of the Academy for the Terminally Hopeless?" Finally, finally, you caught the faintest glimmer of amusement in his gaze. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Feeling emboldened, you grinned. "You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first." "Indeed," he said, voice as smooth as ever. "Clearly, I have been bested in wit." "You have," you agreed, standing a little straighter. "I accept your defeat graciously." And then, to your absolute delight, you caught it a quiet chuckle, barely audible, but there. A single note of laughter, gone as soon as it arrived. But you heard it. Your grin widened, victorious. "Ha! You laughed!" Shadow Milk Cookie arched a brow, his expression returning to that composed, knowing look he always wore. "Did I?" "You did!" You pointed at him as if to prove a point. "Don’t try to deny it. I heard you."

"Hmm." He brought a hand to his chin, feigning deep thought. "I suppose there is no use hiding it. Congratulations. A rare feat, indeed." You beamed, feeling lighter than you had all day. Maybe you still had a million unanswered questions about yourself, but at least for now, you had this. And, at least for now, it was enough. As the two of you continued walking, you found yourself mulling over a thought that had been lingering in the back of your mind for a while now. You had never actually asked about his work at the Academy not beyond the occasional observation of his endless studies. You glanced up at him. "So, Sage of Truth… what classes do you even teach?" He turned his head slightly at your question, regarding you with an inquisitive look, as if mildly surprised you had never asked before. "A variety of subjects, though my primary focus lies in advanced magical theory, epistemology, and arcane philosophy. I also conduct special lectures on the nature of truth and perception when time permits." You blinked. Epistemology? You weren't sure why you expected any different. Of course he taught something so lofty. "You know," you said, tilting your head, "I think if I walked into a class like that, I’d pass out immediately." He let out a hum of amusement. "And yet, you sit before me in study, night after night." You huffed. "That's different."

"How so?" You hesitated for a moment before answering, trying to find the right words. "Well… when it’s just us, you explain things in a way I can actually understand. Like, yeah, it still takes me a while to get it, but you’re patient about it. I feel like if I were in a full classroom with a bunch of top scholars, I’d just… get left behind." Shadow Milk Cookie considered your words, his expression unreadable. "It is a common concern among scholars of all levels," he mused. "Many find themselves caught in the pursuit of knowledge without ever truly grasping it." He cast you a knowing look. "But, I assure you, a true scholar does not simply leave others behind they illuminate the path for those who follow." You pursed your lips. "You make it sound so noble." "Because it is noble," he said with certainty. "There is no shame in struggling to learn. Only in refusing to seek understanding." You fell silent at that, letting his words settle. After a moment, you exhaled, shaking your head. "You really do have a way with words, huh?" Shadow Milk Cookie chuckled softly. "One could say it is my profession."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. You supposed it was fitting no one bore the title of Sage of Truth without reason. As the two of you strolled through the Academy’s winding pathways, the towering spires and grand halls gradually gave way to lush greenery. The Academy Gardens were unlike anything else within Blueberry Yogurt Academy an oasis of tranquility, hidden behind arching ivy-covered trellises. The air here smelled faintly of blooming moonlilies and damp earth, a stark contrast to the old parchment and candle wax scent that clung to the lecture halls. Your pace quickened with a newfound energy as you stepped onto the soft mossy paths, leading him deeper into the garden. "Oh, you have to see my favorite spot," you said, excitement creeping into your voice as you turned back to glance at him. Shadow Milk Cookie followed at his usual composed pace, his hands loosely clasped behind his back. "Is that so?" he mused, a glimmer of curiosity in his gaze. "Then by all means, lead the way." You weaved through rows of carefully cultivated flora, past shimmering crystal-blossoms that hummed faintly with magic, and toward a secluded alcove where the willow trees grew just tall enough to form a natural canopy. Sunlight filtered through the leaves in fragmented rays, casting a dappled pattern over the worn stone bench nestled beneath the largest willow tree. The area was untouched by the usual hustle of the Academy quiet, peaceful. Yours. You turned to him with a bright grin. "This is it!" Shadow Milk Cookie took a moment to observe the space, his golden eyes trailing over every detail the arching branches, the way the light flickered over the stones, the gentle hum of magic in the air. "Hmm…" he murmured, stepping forward. "It is… a well-chosen refuge." You beamed. "Right? It's perfect when I need a break from studying or when I just need to think." You ran a hand along the curved back of the bench. "Something about this place just makes everything feel… less overwhelming." Shadow Milk Cookie regarded you for a moment before turning his gaze back to the garden. "Even the most rigorous minds require respite," he said thoughtfully. "A scholar cannot seek truth if they are too weary to perceive it."

You plopped down onto the bench, sighing as you stretched out a little. "That sounds like your way of saying I made a good call." He gave a small, approving nod. "Indeed." You couldn't help but grin, pleased by his acknowledgment. It wasn’t often that you got to be the one introducing him to something new. The fact that he genuinely seemed to appreciate your favorite spot made you feel oddly… validated. As he took a seat beside you still composed, still poised as ever you exhaled, letting the peaceful atmosphere settle between you. It was rare to share this space with anyone, but somehow, the presence of the Sage of Truth didn’t disturb the quiet serenity. If anything, it felt… fitting. You leaned back against the bench, letting the warmth of the dappled sunlight sink into your skin as you glanced over at him. "It's nice, right?" you asked, watching his gaze sweep across the peaceful alcove once more. Shadow Milk Cookie gave a small nod, his golden eyes reflecting the shimmering glow of the enchanted fountain. "A well-chosen retreat, indeed." A small, satisfied smile tugged at your lips before you hesitated, debating whether to bring up what had been on your mind. Finally, you shifted slightly, turning toward him. "So, Sage of Truth" "You may call me Shadow Milk," he interrupted smoothly, his voice as calm as ever, but firm. You blinked. "Huh?" He turned his gaze toward you fully now, expression unreadable. "We are not presently engaged in an academic pursuit, are we?" You shook your head slowly. "I mean, no, but…"

"Then there is no need for formality," he stated simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Your mouth opened, then closed. You weren’t sure why it was so difficult to not call him by his title. It had always felt like a layer of respectful distance a reminder of who he was. And yet, sitting beside him in this quiet part of the gardens, away from the grand halls and towering bookshelves, that distance felt… unnecessary. "...Shadow Milk," you finally said, testing the name on your tongue. It felt strange, almost too casual, like you were stepping into unfamiliar territory. He gave an approving nod, a faint, knowing smile touching his lips. "Better." You exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking your head. "If you say so." Though you couldn't quite ignore the way your chest felt a little lighter saying his name not as a revered scholar, not as the Sage of Truth, but simply as him. You crossed your arms, eyeing the towering hat atop Shadow Milk Cookie’s head. After a moment of hesitation, you finally asked, “Have you ever thought about ditching the hat?” Shadow Milk Cookie blinked, as if the question had never once crossed his mind. “Ditching it?” he repeated, tone laced with mild amusement. “Yeah,” you said, tilting your head. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s… impressive, but it’s kind of a lot. Ever thought about just, I don’t know, going without it?” He considered you for a moment, before bringing a hand to the brim of the ornate hat. “Do you think I should?” You shrugged. “I don’t know. I just wonder what you’d look like without it. It’s so big and dramatic sometimes it feels like it walks into a room before you do.” He let out a quiet chuckle. “Is that so?” “I mean, yeah.” You gestured toward it. “Don’t get me wrong, you somehow make it work, but it’s well, it’s kind of goofy.”

“Goofy?” he echoed, raising a brow. You hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. In an… eccentric scholar kind of way.” He exhaled a small hum of thoughtfulness. “I see. And tell me, if I were to ditch the hat, as you so boldly suggest, would I still be recognizable as the Sage of Truth?” You rolled your eyes. “I think your reputation would survive without it.” He smirked slightly. “An intriguing proposition.” His fingers grazed the edge of the hat for a brief moment, before he let his hand drop back to his side. “But I’m afraid it’s not so easily removed.” You narrowed your eyes. “What, is it cursed or something?” He let the question hang in the air for just a second too long before responding smoothly, “Perhaps.” You groaned, running a hand down your face. “Of course you won’t give me a straight answer.” Shadow Milk Cookie chuckled lightly, the glimmer of amusement never quite leaving his gaze. “Would you expect anything less?”

You sat with him for a while, the conversation flowing surprisingly easily. Maybe it was the peaceful atmosphere of the gardens, the cool breeze rustling through the trees, or the way the late afternoon light bathed everything in gold. Whatever the reason, you found yourself actually enjoying this moment not as a student struggling to keep up, not as someone anxiously trying to impress a renowned scholar, but just… as yourself. Shadow Milk Cookie spoke about a fascinating alchemical theory he had been reviewing recently, and you listened, nodding along, even managing to contribute here and there. But as the minutes stretched on, the exhaustion you had been ignoring all day finally began to catch up with you. Your blinks grew longer, your posture slumped slightly, and at some point, you must have let out a small sigh because Shadow Milk Cookie suddenly paused mid-sentence. “…Are you well?” His voice was as composed as ever, but there was the faintest note of concern beneath it. You straightened quickly, rubbing your eyes. “Yeah yeah, I’m fine. Just… a little tired.” He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “A little?” You gave a sheepish chuckle, stretching your arms. “Okay, maybe more than a little. I, uh… might have lost track of time yesterday and forgot to eat dinner. And then today was just kind of… long.” Shadow Milk Cookie hummed thoughtfully. “A scholar should take care not only of their mind but also their body,” he mused. “After all, even the sharpest intellect dulls under exhaustion.” You groaned. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” “Do you?” he asked, the faintest trace of amusement in his voice. You opened your mouth to argue, but honestly, what could you say? He wasn’t wrong. Instead, you let out a dramatic sigh and flopped back against the bench. “Maybe I should just take a nap right here,” you muttered, half-joking, half-serious. “I wouldn't recommend it,” he said mildly. “Unless you wish to wake up covered in stray leaves and curious insects.” You cracked an eye open to glare at him, but he was simply watching you with his usual calm, composed expression. “You have a way of ruining perfectly good ideas, you know that?” “Only the foolish ones.” You huffed but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips. Maybe you really did need some rest. You scoffed, leaning back against the bench with a wistful sigh. “It isn’t foolish at all. Napping in the academy gardens is one of life’s greatest joys.” Shadow Milk Cookie tilted his head slightly. “You say that as though it is a truth you’ve tested yourself.”  You let out a soft chuckle, closing your eyes for a moment. “That’s because I have. Plenty of times, actually.”  

His expression shifted into something between intrigue and mild disapproval. “You mean to tell me you’ve made a habit of falling asleep outdoors?”  You opened one eye to glance at him. “Only in the gardens. It’s peaceful, the sunlight is warm, the breeze is cool, and the flowers smell nice. It’s a perfect place to rest.” He folded his arms, his golden key glinting in the sunlight as he studied you. “And what of the potential consequences? You could be disturbed, or worse caught by a professor who may not be so forgiving of such habits.”   You waved a hand dismissively. “Please, if they cared, they would’ve caught me by now.” Shadow Milk Cookie exhaled, shaking his head with something close to amusement. “I see. A scholar of unconventional study methods, are you?” You grinned. “More like a scholar who knows when their brain needs a break.” He regarded you for a moment before relenting with a soft chuckle. “Perhaps you’ve discovered a hidden wisdom in your methods. Though I still maintain that a bed would serve you far better than a garden bench.” You stretched your arms above your head before letting them drop back to your sides. “A bed doesn’t have the same charm.” He let out a hum of contemplation. “Then I suppose I shall simply have to take your word for it.” You smirked. “Or you could try it yourself.” He raised an eyebrow. “I think not.” You laughed. “Figures. You don’t seem like the type to take spontaneous naps in public.” Shadow Milk Cookie gave a small, knowing smile. “No, but I seem to be the type to lecture those who do.” You rolled your eyes playfully but didn’t argue. If anything, this exchange only proved your point that there was something special about resting in the gardens, and you weren’t about to let anyone tell you otherwise.

You let out a yawn, barely covering your mouth in time before blinking sluggishly. It wasn’t even that late, but the weight of exhaustion was finally settling in, making it harder to focus. Shadow Milk Cookie noticed immediately, his observant gaze never missing a detail. “It seems fatigue has caught up with you at last,” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “I suggest we call it a day.” You blinked, shaking your head slightly as if to will yourself more awake. “I can still” He held up a hand, his expression calm but firm. “No need to force yourself to push forward when your mind is clearly begging for rest.” You hesitated, glancing away. “But we barely covered anything…and this was supposed to be a short break” Shadow Milk Cookie chuckled softly. “On the contrary, we covered quite a bit…more than you may realize in your current state. There is no rush, after all. We shall continue tomorrow afternoon.” Something about the way he said it made you exhale, tension easing from your shoulders. “Tomorrow afternoon…” you echoed, rolling the words over in your mind before nodding. “Alright.” He gave a small nod in approval. “Good. Then I expect you to be well-rested by then.” You snorted lightly. “No promises.” His lips quirked up in amusement before he gestured toward the academy’s path. “Come now, before you decide to test the merits of napping in the gardens once more.” You let out a small laugh but didn’t argue, pushing yourself up from the bench. As you walked away, you felt that flicker of warmth again not admiration, not flattery, just… something comforting. Tomorrow, then.

You trudged back to your dorm, the evening air cool against your skin, carrying the remnants of conversation and the faint scent of the academy gardens with you. Despite your exhaustion, you felt lighter somehow like the weight of expectations, of self-doubt, of everything that had been pressing down on you had eased, even if just a little. Once inside your dorm, you shut the door behind you and leaned against it for a moment, sighing softly. A full meal didn’t sound all that appealing; your body was more drained than hungry, and the thought of sitting in the bustling dining hall felt overwhelming. Instead, you settled on something simple grabbing a handful of biscuits and dried fruit from the stash you kept in your room. You perched yourself at your desk, absentmindedly nibbling on a biscuit as you stared at your notes from earlier. The words blurred together, and after a few sluggish attempts to reread them, you gave up. You weren’t going to absorb anything like this. Your gaze drifted to the window, where the academy grounds stretched under the evening sky, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. It was peaceful silent but alive in the way the leaves rustled and distant lanterns flickered. You exhaled, letting the tension slip away as you finished the last of your snack and prepared for bed. The moment your head hit the pillow, the exhaustion you had been ignoring all day rushed in at full force. Your limbs felt heavy, sinking into the mattress, and before you could even think about reviewing tomorrow’s plans, sleep overtook you.

A/N I had a pretty lazy Saturday so I spent my morning typing away of course I took breaks guys that's why its posted in the afternoon!!! I had no assignments due today either so more free time for me YIPEE!!! anyways I hope you enjoyed and...

Remember to follow and reblog for more bangers 😎😎😎🔥🔥🔥🔥

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[deathmimedream]

“I don’t mind the appearances or affairs of state, but the forms and procedures are a menace. I’m lucky enough to have staff handling things while I’m topside.” He smirked. “But I’ve been up here centuries at this point.”

"Duty should be a choice, not an obligation." (For Caliber)

“Oh, indeed. I much prefer my time here at the monastery over a single moment attending my hellish duties. The paperwork alone is a bore…”

[aventurineswife]

Could I request Aventurine with a reader who is just as lucky as he is? He always takes them out gambling together just for funsies. Unfortunately, reader is a very attractive person as catches the interest of many greedy people who want to use them.

Fortune’s Most Favored

Summary: Aventurine and his equally lucky partner revel in their shared thrill for risk and cunning. But their magnetic charm attracts more than admiration—it draws the attention of those who seek to exploit. When a greedy stranger tries to claim what isn’t theirs, Aventurine's protective side surfaces, revealing the depth of his feelings. Beneath the glitz and games, the duo realizes that the real stakes aren’t just in cards or chips but in guarding what truly matters: each other.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Gambling themes, Protective Aventurine, Lucky!Reader, Fluff with a touch of tension, Power couple dynamics, Subtle romance, Quick-witted banter.

Warnings: Brief mentions of possessive/greedy characters, Slight tension with implied threats, Gambling themes.

The casino was alive with the music of clinking chips, spinning wheels, and the occasional exclamation of victory or defeat. Amidst the chaos, Aventurine lounged at a high-stakes table, his signature grin playing on his lips. Seated beside him, you flicked a card toward the dealer with practiced ease, the polished surface of the Queen of Hearts gleaming under the chandelier's light.

Another victory for you.

"Impressive as always," Aventurine purred, leaning back in his chair. His eyes sparkled with genuine amusement, though there was a flicker of something deeper—a quiet appreciation he rarely allowed to surface. "You know, darling, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to outshine me."

You smirked, gathering your winnings with nimble fingers. "If I were, you'd already be in my shadow."

The table erupted in laughter, though it was half-nervous. There was a tension in the air, a mix of awe and envy from the onlookers. You and Aventurine were a pair that commanded attention, a duet of charisma and skill that turned every casino floor into your personal stage.

But tonight, it wasn’t just admiration that followed you.

The first sign something was off came as you moved to another table, Aventurine by your side. A man with a sharp suit and sharper eyes approached, his expression a mix of feigned charm and unspoken malice. His gaze lingered on you, a little too long to be polite.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked smoothly, though his question was directed solely at you.

Aventurine's smile never wavered, but the subtle shift in his posture—leaning slightly forward, one hand resting near his choker—was a silent warning.

"Funny thing about luck," Aventurine said, cutting through the man's attempt at conversation. "It doesn’t take kindly to vultures."

The man’s smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. "I was just admiring your… partner’s skill. Surely someone of their caliber attracts all kinds of attention."

"And yet," Aventurine countered, his tone velvet-soft but razor-sharp, "only the dullest sorts think they can buy or bully their way into good company."

The man’s expression hardened, but before he could respond, you spoke up.

"I don’t think you’d enjoy playing at our table," you said lightly, your voice carrying a chill that belied your calm demeanor. "The stakes tend to get… dangerous."

The man hesitated, eyes flickering between you and Aventurine. Then, with a forced chuckle, he backed off, muttering something about finding another game.

Later, as you and Aventurine stood on the casino’s balcony, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the stuffy heat inside, he turned to you with an unreadable expression.

"Attractive and lucky," he mused, leaning against the railing. "A dangerous combination."

You rolled your eyes. "Jealous?"

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Hardly. If anything, I’m relieved. It means I have someone who can keep up with me."

There was a pause, the kind that carried unspoken words. You met his gaze, and for a moment, his mask slipped. Beneath the flamboyant charm and the calculated confidence, you saw something raw—an unguarded flicker of protectiveness and longing.

"You know," he said softly, "the world isn’t kind to people like us. Greedy hands and jealous hearts are always waiting to take what they can’t earn." He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "But I’ll be damned if I let anyone take you."

You smiled, leaning into his touch. "You’d have to fight me for me first."

He laughed, the sound lighter this time, free of the weight he so often carried. "Oh, darling," he murmured, his voice low and teasing, "that’s a gamble I’d gladly lose."

And as the city lights sparkled below, you realized that with Aventurine, every high-stakes game was worth playing—as long as he was by your side.

[shakingparadigm]

Once again, I can't really gather my thoughts cohesively on this right now, so please bear with me. Just musing, so the ideas here might be a bit disconnected.

As a prodigy artist well-versed in more than just singing, it's no suprise that art is a prominent part of Till's character. Everything associated with Till seems to carry his eccentric artistic talent, right down to the abstract symbols painted onto his otherwise blank white t-shirt.

(Till's sketching and drawing seem to go hand-in-hand with his songwriting. Doodling and composition are two of his hobbies, and he's stated to be talented at both.)

(His appearance in TOP 3 emphasizes this messy, artistic angle. The symbols painted on the wall are similar to graffiti tags, usually associated with youth and rebellion. Furthermore, there is paint splattered on his face, staining color onto his disheveled hair and baggy clothes.)

(Even amongst the TOP 3, Till is presented with the most color. Between Luka and Ivan's main colors of white and black, their formal attire and elegant, charming personas, Till looks rather out of place.)

(Till's personal/special talent is floral art.)

Art is an integral part of Till's character, something that defines him and his desire for self-expression and freedom (it's no suprise that when Till loses his will to live in ROUND 6, he's dressed in plain and monochromatic clothes that lack any of his own artistic touch). Despite the ties between creativity and freedom, Till's talents are regularly taken advantage of and even tampered with due to the treatment he receives from his owner.

Guardian Urak is an eccentric segyein. A hustler, materialistic and rather pretentious. He shows great pride in Till's "uniqueness" and artistic ability, boasting that he has raised the best human-pet in history. In order to create the success that is Till, however, Urak had to execute his methods on several other pets beforehand. His practices include the thorough abuse of his human pets in order to coax out their talents, pushing them to their limits with harsh training regimens and painful experiments. Violence is a tactic utilized heavily within Urak's line of business, and the human pets under his ownership are the most openly abused.

Urak is said to abuse his pets to the point of severe mental issues. It's due to these mental issues that his previous pets have failed to achieve victory, showing great promise but never making it to the end. He seems to believe in the idea that the peak of a human's talent is tied with their instability, that the more talented a pet human is, they more likely they are to be a freak.

Urak pushes forward with the mistreatment of his humans despite their suffering. He believes it to be a part of creating exemplary art, playing into the idea of a tortured artist. Urak's pets were incredibly talented and top contenders for the title of champion. If not for their heavily deteriorated mental states, they would have brought Urak to victory long ago. It's quite clear that he does not intend on changing his methods because the humans he produces are some of the best products around. He doesn't want to change his methods, he wants a human that can withstand them.

Till's style is already established to be unique, nicknamed a "black sheep" in his official magazine page, emphasizing individuality. His brazen aggression in ROUND 2 caused him to attract much hate, but twice as many fans, too. The bashing of Freddie was framed as a bombastic and somewhat avant-garde performance act, referred to as art. Till's public persona was that of an eccentric and unpredictable artist, a highly reactive contrarian pet who presents both a high risk and high reward. Urak has produced another tortured artist, except this one is different (in his words, unrivaled). A higher caliber of pet, bringing him the closest to winning he's ever gotten thus far.

Till's various artistic talents seem to be things that he has developed on his own, stemming from his own desires and interests rather than something forced onto him by Urak. In one of VIVINOS and QMENG's livestreams it was stated that Till is inherently gifted, a creative genius since birth. Till uses his abilities as tools of rebellion and self-expression, writing his own music, vandalizing and adjusting segyein-provided material and outfits in order to make them more his own. It's unfortunate that even Till's attempts at rebellion are taken advantage of and instead used against him. Constantly battered and bruised, isolated in a cell, forced to endure experimentation, all of his artistic ingenuity and creations have been taken by the segyein and used to promote him as a product. He has been turned into a spectacle, his misery and abuse put on display for others to gawk at. Suffering for the sake of art.

[justcruisingaroundrevived]

Can I get headcanons for the TEC boys with a reader who’s good at art?

Never A Frown With Golden Brown

Summary: TEC x Artist! Reader

TW/CW: mentions of crime scenes

A/N: Good news, guys! REQUEST ARE NOW BACK OPEN!

Knocked out the majority of my queue, so fill free to request anything (as long as you read my DON’Ts first! <3

Reblogs are appreciated!

- Bill isn’t a muse, and he told you as such

- Anytime it was time for portraits for school, his mom was too poor to pay the extra money (though it became more obvious it’s because she didn’t want to have any reminders of him)

- It would be no different with you. He spotted you during art class actually paying attention to the assignment, and scoffed

- “You know, there are better ways to put your normie brain to the use”

- You simply pretended not to hear him as you continue to draw the still life in front of you

- Overtime, you would catch him watching you draw, paint, photograph, even write sometimes. He got red faced and mad when you pointed it out, but that didn’t stop him

- In fact, you just made him more curious. He’ll admit: your inking was acceptable, you knew how to compose a shot and he guessed your coloring was alright

- You probably drew him Major Violence with Battle Broad for his birthday, and he just held onto the piece of paper like it would be lost forever if he didn’t

- Will stuff every doodle/unfinished drawing you’ve threw out over the years. Will get pissy if you point this out, saying that “YEAH! Well, maybe I want to draw better than you!”

- I actually think he does know how to draw, just doesn’t apply himself. If he’s feeling generous, he’ll return the favor by drawing you in a notebook and tear it out for you

- Would die of embarrassment if he was asked to be your muse for photography. Of course he’s going to agree to, just that it’s embarrassing he’ll be seen in this light! DUH!

- (Later on, would ask if you have any copies he could take home)

- It’s weird being admired like this. He’s only seen this with artists from a long gone era…not with his pimply nerdy self

- ….but maybe he’ll accept it. Maybe.

- Josh saw you drawing for the journal club. They needed a cover, and you were the “art kid”, so you were made to take the burden of it

- He likes to think he’s artistic himself (writing wise), but the way you effortlessly blended in the watercolor onto the paper…it entranced him

- He stayed up all night writing the “perfect” sci fi story for you to visualize. Maybe you can draw it like Frank Frietrzza, or even Jack Kirby

- Slides it in your locker and hopes for the best.

- Waits a couple of days, and calls himself foolish for even thinking someone of you fallible (while also stating that “you couldn’t handle the caliber of my art skills!”)

- It isn’t until he sees you also slip in a visualization of the drawing that he was sold!

- Loves to watch you in art class while you produced the most beautiful landscapes within just your imagination

- Wants to hear about your process at all times and would get giddy hearing you talk

- Secretly? He’s jealous. He can never seem to get the ideas in his head right onto the paper. It’s like a mental block for him or something.

- So, he may or may not steal some of your drawing ideas from you. Will adamantly claim he didn’t, but you knew. You always knew

- I’m you can get past that, maybe you two could be a creative writing duo

- Josh takes control of the writing; you take control of the illustrations

- It’s a weird harmony of sorts, but it works nevertheless

- For Pete, I think he would actually like a photographer

- I don’t know why, but staring at movies all times of the day means he has a keen eye when it comes to the little details

- Saw you at the darkroom while you were about to finish up. He (sort of) followed to the light and watched you examine the last photograph

- Woah…even in black and white, you know your stuff! That lighting really hits the plants well, and the composition almost wraps said plants into something…monstrous

- You end up catching him in the act, but unlike the others, he just continued to stare…creepy

- When he got home, he spread out his favorite horror films and capture every one of his favorite shots (probably stole a camera or used a shitty camcorder)

- Maybe asks you if you can take shots like this (yes, he be one of THOSE people who want free requests)

- He’s a little sleaze ball as well. The type that would BEG you to go into crime scenes and take pictures of everything, but especially the bodies

- If not…maybe a portrait of himself? Probably never got one because his parents were too poor to get one themselves

- Since Pete’s also a creative person (FXS), those “self portraits” are him in his zombie crawl look

- Internally kicking his feet when he gets them done, but acts all tough when you asked his opinion on it

- Even if you guys did break up, he still has them, sometimes even looks at them when he’s feeling bitterly nostalgic

- Jerry would love a sculptor. Someone who can seemingly make fantastical stories with just a piece of clay and such

- You met because he accidentally destroyed one of said sculptures. You were letting it air dry and Jerry was tripped up by some bullies (or even the club), crashing right down onto one of them

- After helping him clean up, he started to also notice your other work on the ground and WOAH! Is that Xena the Princess Warrior?!

- Didn’t have time to stick around, but would watch you sculpt during free time in art class

- The way your hands meticulously move around the clay itself…how it made these blobs into impossible shapes…fascinating

- It distracts him every day of his life. Even at club he’s starting to feel flustered when thinking about you and your work

- Will eventually ask if he could watch you up close while you sculpt

- He’s a romantic at heart (a little). Absolutely red faced and flustered watching you. He’s never met anyone this talented since…well, forever, really

- I think you could inspire him to create a little. “Checks out” (stalks) your profile and tries to replicate some of your more simpler pieces

- It’s…something, but he’s trying, alright?

- Would bond making mini figurines of DnD characters and keeps them up his shelf to admire

- He loves his artistic S/O so much <3

[yellowpsyduck]

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐧𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬.

Thomas Shelby x Carleton!Reader Warnings: Smut, slight size kink, Tommy attracting posh girls as always

“Are you fucking my sister-in-law?” were the very first words that came out of the young socialite’s mouth. They were directed to the man dressed in the grey suit with the flat cap, as he caressed the grey filly in front of him. 

“Such crude words from such a lovely young lass, eh?” the man looked rather amused at her choice of words, much less, her more than direct approach of interrogating him.  

The words she’d spoken weren’t quite what he had expected from a girl of her caliber, she seemed far too proper to opt for such language. 

 But she held her ground that girl, with her fashionably short bob and her velvet dress that would probably fetch enough pounds to feed a small family for a week in Small Heath. She didn’t waver under his icy stare, nor did she retreat her questioning glare. In fact, to his surprise, she arched her carefully sculpted eyebrow, as though prompting him to explain himself. 

She must be a London girl, he noted, such brazenness could only mean that she must've lived a sheltered life, never having to put her guards up in fear of gangsters and certainly never having to do anything with filthy old Birmingham.  

No, all she had to do was look pretty and polite and pop open bottles of champagne, dancing the night away to the Foxtrot and Charleston. She didn’t have a clue who he was, didn’t have a clue what he did and certainly didn’t have a clue as to why he always kept a Webley MK VI in his gun strap. 

Tommy found it quite refreshing. He couldn’t remember the last time someone talked to him so incredibly audaciously, if it wasn’t to barrage him with threats to his life.  

“I believed I asked you first, Mister” came the reply from her tinted red lips, looking rather displeased that her question was met with another. 

“Well, a lady like you shouldn’t worry about adult matters.” he replied as he fished his pockets for the metal cigarette case. “Anyways, she's your sister-in-law you say?” he offered her a cigarette, a habit of his which he’d developed from constantly being surrounded by chain smokers. 

“She is, or she was.” she took him up on his offer, as he lit it up for her, “Ian was my brother. His passing was hard on all of us; for her more than anyone else. So, I come up here any chance I get to keep her company, but now I see that’s no longer needed of me.” she said as she eyed him from head to toe, sizing him up almost.  

“Don’t let me be a bone of contention now.” he replied, his couldn’t possibly add another trouble to his list, the Epsom and Major Campbell were already a handful, to say the very least.  

“Actually, it’s quite the opposite.” A hint of surprise glazed over his eyes as he looked at her delicate features. “I’m quite relieved she isn’t shutting herself up." she trailed off, "And you’re certainly not the worst pick for a suitor.” 

“Now don’t go sizing me up for a wedding suit, Miss.” he said taking another drag of his cigarette “May and I are just.... acquaintances. She’s training my horse for the Derby, this beauty over here, you see.” he motioned to the grey horse behind him. 

“Oh.” She looked at him with an abashed humour in her eyes. “Then you must pardon my poor choice of words. I’m sure you won’t take the silly musings of a girl to heart.”  

She flicked the cigarette bud to the ground, stomping it lightly with the heel of her dainty Mary Janes. 

“I’m Y/N. Y/N Vera Carleton.” she extended her hand to him, her lips adorned with the most dazzling smile he’d ever seen in his entire existence. He took her hands in his, their sizes differing starkly. “I’m Thomas. Thomas Shelby.” 

“Well then Mr. Shelby, now that the previous fiasco is behind us, I must be off. My friends will be waiting for me, I’m afraid. There's a new club in the city called the Babylon, you might’ve heard of it, they’ve invited this jazz band from the Colonies. My friends say it’s all the rage these days.” she explained to him. 

Thomas knew she was one of those girls. The ones that never had to worry about a thing in their lives, except for what they’d wear to a social dinner or what diamonds to pair with what dress and he knew that a part of him wished he could be as carefree as them. But life had other plans for him, a runaway father, a suicidal mother and a fucking war to top it all off. 

But now with the Shelby Company Ltd. and his copious side ventures, he hoped that one day, his children, if he ever found a woman that is, would have a life that mirrored that of the captivating girl in front of him.  

“All right then, Miss Carleton, you have a good night now.” he bid the girl farewell as he watched her leave the stables. Her dress swaying with every step she took, she looked very frail, he noted, but not the kind that you’d see in the streets of Watery Lane, more so the kind of frail that was in vogue amongst the ladies of London. 

As the night progressed, it became abundantly clear that May Fitz Carleton and Thomas Shelby weren’t just acquaintances, although, that should’ve been clear from the moment he accepted her proposal to stay the night in the manor, more like a fucking castle, he thought. 

As night fell, Thomas found himself striding to the doors of his gracious host's, she’d left it unlocked, of course. Neither were novice adolescents; they knew what they wanted, and they certainly weren’t abashed about it. Their business was completed rather quickly though, she seemed unable to fully open her heart out to the deed and he had a myriad of thoughts occupying his mind.  

Breakfast was a rather lovely affair. May chose not to bring up their late night discretions, for which he was rather thankful for. In fact, she seemed content with it being a passing liaison, finally someone that’s on the same page as him, he mused. 

The lavish spread of food in front of him was overwhelming and he resigned himself to an Earl Grey and a toast. It seemed it was just May that occupied the house, seeing as though they were the only two to grace the table. Their conversations were pleasant, ranging from their shared love for horses to the ones they would be up against at the Derby, when lo and behold, the doors to the room sprung open to reveal a particularly chirpy Y/N, what she would be so cheery for, this early in the morning, he didn’t know. 

“Morning, my dearest. Hope you had a lovely night.” The older of the two woman remarked as she kissed her cheeks. “I’ve told Louisa to prepare those Vienna rolls you so love. She should bring it out any minute.” she stated as the maids served the new occupant with a steaming cup of tea. 

“That would be lovely, God knows I’m terribly famished.” she strutted into the room, smelling of daisies as she walked past him and kissed her sister-in-law. “Morning to you, my dearest Mayflower.” 

She took the seat opposite to his, paying him no mind and absentmindedly blowing into her tea. “Y/N darling, this is Mr. Thomas Shelby, he’s my guest. I'm training his horse for Epsom. " She motioned to the gentleman. "Tommy, this is Y/N, she’s Ian’s sister and the youngest of the Carleton bunch.” 

 “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shelby.” quipped the younger girl, pretending as though they were truly meeting for the first time. 

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Tommy went along with her play, opting not to reveal their meeting the previous day. 

“Madam, there’s a telephone for you. It's from Sir Ascot.” May was quickly ushered out of the room to attend to her business, leaving the unusual pair together. 

“So, are you going to keep staring or will you tell me what’s on your mind?” Y/N remarked as she forfeited the staring game they’d had going on.  

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” the girl in front of him was intriguing for sure, and she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. Tommy didn’t know other women besides Ada and Polly that would speak so nonchalantly with him, and he found himself quite enjoying this refreshing exchange. 

“Well, you’ve basically been undressing me with your eyes, since yesterday. So, shall we do it in my room or yours?”  

This. Tommy wasn’t expecting. 

He'd expected a whole lot of other things but not this. 

The girl didn’t bat an eye as she said those words, simply sipping on her tea, as though they’d only exchanged pleasantries with each other. Tommy was about to respond when a maid brought a plate of Vienna rolls to the table and diligently served her young Miss. 

As soon as her departing figure left the room, Y/N’s eyes darted back up to his, sucking slowly on the gold cutlery as she did. She seemed to be waiting for his reply and Tommy wondered how she’d react if he told her 'No'. Surely, such a girl as lovely as her wouldn’t be used to hearing those words of refusal. All she’d have to do was bat her pretty lashes, pout her soft lips and no one would dare refuse such a divine creature.  

And Tommy was by no means a saint. A posh girl like her asking him to fuck her wasn’t something that happened on the daily. And again, Tommy might be a man with great restraint, but he was a man after all.  

He'd be lying if he said his pants hadn’t gotten the slightest bit tighter at the sight of her sucking and licking on the spoon, that when he was balls deep inside May the previous night, all he thought about was the girl in front of him. Even now, as she sat in front of him, in her lace dress, he could see the slightest imprint of her breasts against the fabric of the dress.  

Tommy took in a deep breath, setting the teacup back on the porcelain saucer, when finally, he muttered “You don’t know who I am, do you, little girl?” For if she did, she wouldn’t have uttered those words, much less, even sip her tea so peacefully in his presence. 

“Should I care?” she asked in mock concern, “All I know is that you’re a well dressed gentleman that’s got a nice deep voice.” Truly, that was all she looked for. If a man had a deep enough pocket and an ever deeper voice, she’d go weak in the knees, and she knew May wouldn’t associate herself with a man that didn’t have the former. 

“Y/N Carleton, you’re truly a work of art, eh?” he chuckled, genuinely in awe of her intrepidity. 

“Well, that amongst other things.” came her quick reply, flashing him a cheeky smile. 

“Do you think she’ll notice? If were both absent from the table, that is.” he asked in reference to May, she sure as hell wouldn’t appreciate his advances towards her sister-in-law. 

“Don’t you worry, Sir Ascot is a hard fellow to deal with, he’ll talk her ear off for hours.” she stated unconcerned as she took strode out of the room, glancing back at him. 

“In fact, forget about the bedroom, there's a storeroom over there that’s unfrequented. God knows your staring is making me wild as it is.” She turned and left the room, the gentle sway of her hips beckoning him to follow her. And follow he did.

Thomas fucking Shelby following after a girl, his brothers would’ve had a field day had they learnt of it. 

But he didn’t care. All he knew was that he wanted her.  

He wanted to fuck her till she screamed his name. 

He wanted to fuck her till she couldn’t walk. 

He wanted to fuck her till she was a crying mess. 

The storeroom was quite spacious, like most of the rooms of this manor. But he wasn’t here to admire this. No. He came here for her. As soon as the latch to the door was shut closed, their lips crashed together. 

Oh! He could have had her then and there, her lips were so incredibly soft and moulded with his so fucking perfectly. Her hands found themselves in his hair and she tugged lightly, making him crazy at her touch, while his hands kneaded her supple buttocks. She might’ve been slim, but she was certainly well endowed in just the right areas. 

She soon broke the kiss and quickly worked to unbutton her dress, looking at him as he did, and that smile. That fucking smile of hers. Thomas didn’t know anyone more lovely than her. 

She stripped down to her chemise, her garter bands visible underneath. He couldn’t control himself at the sight of her lovely frame. His hands soon brought the straps of her flimsy cover down, exposing her delicate brassiere which was also discarded on the floor. 

She looked glorious standing in front of him, in just her garter bands and stockings. He would fuck her with those on he decided. The sight of her thighs in those were making the tent in his pants so painfully obvious. 

She undid his suspenders, kneeling down as she pulled his trousers down, freeing his throbbing red cock from it’s tight restraints. She blushed a little at the obscene sight, sure she’d seen her fair share of cocks, but none as majestic as his. Tommy Shelby had drawn him to her because of his deep voice, but his huge cock, now that was a brilliant surprise. The London chaps she’d been with just couldn’t compare.  

She licked the precum that was dripping from his tip, making him shudder in anticipation and little by little she licked the length of his entire shaft, making sure to drag her tongue along every crevice. She held her cock in both hands, it’s sheer size making her marvel. As Tommy looked down, the sight below him was eliciting a dark reaction inside of him, her little dainty fingers wrapped around his manhood. God! She looked so very small. 

She sucked his cock, trying her best to take in as much as she could. She was diligent, for sure, doing her best to make him happy, taking small breaths, accommodating her throat for his dick and working her hands constantly along his shaft or his balls. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” he breathed out raspily. She was an angel.  

An angel sent just to fuck him. He didn’t know any woman or whore that was doing the things she was. But here she was, a little thing like her milking his cock like a good girl. 

He grabbed her hair, lightly bucking his hips inside of her mouth. She seemed to be suffocating almost, his big dick choking her. Almost. 

“Just like that baby, just like that.” 

Fuck! She was such a good girl, holding her cries till he released his load inside of her mouth. “Swallow.” he commanded. She was a glorious mess, doing as he commanded her.  

Her eyes were watery, and her mouth was thoroughly abused, but she still looked at him with devotion laced in her beautiful eyes. 

He lifted her off the ground and laid her on the table like surface. He spread her legs wide open with his hands and marveled at the sight. Her throbbing cunt, glistening in arousal looked so warm, so inviting. He kissed her on the lips once more and dove in to eat her out, but a small hand covered the entrance.  

“She might be done soon, so, please just fuck me.” she cried, so obviously starved for him. 

He wasted no time and rubbed her clit, making sure her entrance was slick enough, and she was, so incredibly wet for him. He lined his dick to the entrance of her pussy and thrusted lightly. Just the tip he moaned. Just the tip and she was already on the verge of tears. 

“Just breathe, love. Just breathe for me, eh?” he cooed in her ear as his hips thrusted in small motions to enter her tight cave, rubbing her clit as he did. And then with a final thrust he entered her pussy. 

God! She felt so good. Her tight walls caved around his cock, stimulating him in ways he didn’t think possible. His motions became faster as her cries became louder. 

“Tommy!” she moaned over and over again, seemingly unable to formulate any coherent sentences, her brain clogged with the intense pleasure of his cock ramming into her.  

“You fit me so well, Y/N. I’m never letting go of you or your tight fucking pussy after this.” he moaned in her ear. 

The constant slapping of skin and unbridled moans didn’t leave much to the imagination of the maids and butlers that might’ve overheard, but they didn’t care. All they knew was that they were nearing their release and it just felt so fucking good. 

“Tommy, I’m close.” she managed to stumble out the words. 

“Wait for me, love. You’re gonna cum when I tell you to.” he groaned as he fastened his pace, evidently nearing his release. 

And with a final thrust, he whispered in her ear and they let go. They were quite the pair to look at. Him, with his trousers on the floor, his hands gripping onto her waists and his eyes never leaving hers and she, with her damn naked body, her tear streaked cheeks and her smudged lipstick. 

Tommy gave her a sweet kiss to her forehead and wrapped his arms around her naked body as they remained in the warm embrace. Their heartbeats were gradually returning to usual, and their panted breathing became steadier. 

He retrieved a handkerchief from his pockets and delicately cleaned her sore entrance. The evidence of their lovemaking spilled lewdly on the floor; it was to be someone else’s problem, not theirs. He slipped the stained handkerchief into his pockets and helped her dress. She seemed incredibly satiated as she stared at him with sheer fondness in her eyes. 

Tommy knew that he couldn’t let go of her now. Not after this.  

She was his, even if she didn’t know it yet. 

“We best get going now, love.” he told her as he waited for her to gather herself together.  

“Wait, silly, you’ve got lipstick on your nose.” she giggled as she rubbed the scarlet red lipstick off for him, standing on the tip of her toes. 

She moved to open the door, but her steps felt awkward. He chuckled at her attempt to walk and offered his hand so she may lean on him. The walk back to the table was interesting, with her uncharacteristic gait and lipstick that seemed to have been smudged clean, and his hair that had been slightly disheveled and lips that held the faintest smile. 

Both looked nothing like they had a few moments prior. If the maids noticed the obvious change, they didn’t comment on it as they dutifully carried out their tasks, making the most possible effort to not offend the pair as they walked through the halls.  

May arrived a few minutes later rambling about how much she would’ve loved to cut the call halfway, had Sir Ascot not been an influential member of the Board. She had been so engrossed in her rant that perhaps, she didn’t notice the obvious change in the mood. 

She also didn’t notice the fact that Thomas Shelby’s eyes never once left her sister-in-law who insouciantly continued drinking her tea that was far too cold by now. 

“Well, May, my stay here has been lovely, but I best get going now.” he uttered at last, the business back at home didn’t wait for no one, especially not for him to fuck posh girls. 

“Indeed, I assume you must have your work cut out for you and oh! I forgot to tell you this morning that I’ve had your car stocked up with engine oil, so, it’ll be a smooth ride home.”  

“Thank you for that, May.” he put on his coat and thanked her for her gracious hosting. 

“Tommy.” she called out as he stepped into his vehicle. “Will I see you again?”  

“I’m sure we’ll cross paths again, Miss Carleton.”  

Miss not Mrs. because his eyes, as he spoke those words weren’t on the woman in front of him, but rather they were on the girl that stood at the doorway, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. 

Ah! That smile. 

The drive home was brisk, his mind occupied with the image of her and that darn smile. He may have been back in Birmingham, but he knew that apart of his mind had been left behind with a particularly charming girl in the Carleton Estate. 

[randomdwellerr]

Priest Alucard

Warnings: Dub-Con?, Alucard is delusional- like really really delusional, Yandereish themes, Holier than thou attitude (literally), Religious Themes, Fingering. LMK if I missed anything.

Priest Alucard! Who leads prayer service with unwavering passion and belief, so much so that the members of your church come to listen to his sermons every Sunday without fail.

Priest Alucard! Who rarely sets his bible down anywhere for more than 5 minutes and honestly, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was attached to his hand.

Priest Alucard! Who leads younger church goers in a weekly Saturday school class.

Priest Alucard! Who fucks you face down because he doesn’t want to get infected by your sin.

Priest Alucard! Who doesn’t look at you when your family goes to speak to him at the end of his service. When he does though, his gaze is piercing and almost judge-mental as he picks you apart with his eyes. Alucard nods along to whatever boring story your Mother is telling about you before subtly redirecting the conversation back to Christ.

Priest Alucard! Who knows when you come to his confessional by your profile through the screen. Your distinct features alight something in his lowly belly. Something only a succubus like you could bring out of the honored Priest.

Priest Alucard! Who wants to rid you of your innocence just as you had snatched away his with the first time you’d laid eyes on him.

Priest Alucard! Who never asked you to come in a Wednesday evening and sit with him on a pew. You tell your dull story while his fingers dance up your thigh and feel your slit through your panties.

You drone on and on as Alucard slides your underwear to one side and begins to roughly trace his name on your clit.

You planned this, Alucard concludes, when you don’t even tear your eyes from his as he gathers your wetness on the tip of his pointer finger and pushes it into you. Your shameless staring reinforces his anger towards you. 

You breathe does hitch when he harshly curls his finger but you continue on after a beat.

Priest Alucard! Who believes he’s the victim of your debauched behavior. He knew from the very start you were a slut beyond saving. When Alucard had put the Eucharist in your palm, during his first sermon at your church, he realized then that you were a lecherous when you smiled at him.

Yup, the fire your grin lit in his stomach wasn’t his fault. It was yours.

Alucard was man but he was one of honor and dignity. He was a well respected community man, clergy leader, and youth teacher.

But you- you had ruined it for him. Alucard was more than happy to stuff him penis into his fist and stroke himself in the shower, where a man of his caliber should do such scandalous things.

That however, was before you came along and took even that simple pleasure from him. Before Alucard knew it, his fantasies revolved around you.

How would your plump lips look wrapped tightly around his cock? How would your throat feel as he forced you to take him further? How would your pussy felt as you came around him?

Priest Alucard! Who even considered taking you away from your daily life and locking you in the church basement, which was seldom visited.

It would be a fitting abode for a harlot such as yourself, he mused.

Priest Alucard! Who can’t stop thinking about how you must be a witch and that’s why you have taken over his every thought. Alucard couldn’t even begin to blame himself for your behavior, he didn’t want this- he never did. But he when he thought someone else might fall victim to your Supernatural Charms, Alucard knew.

As Clergy Leader, only a man of his standing could handle you.

[matchadobo]

Hope you're having a good one matcha!

Okay listen, the mafia one on modern part but they met in prison because Y/N is Kid's personal nurse because someone so notorious and big and scary like him can't be admitted with the other inmates rightttt

Soooo was thinking that he'll break out with her andddd it starts from there 😍 dark romance?? Hehehe ❤️‍🔥

KIDD; mafia

🌷matchadobo's 500 followers event🌷

dialogue: "i told you not to get close to me."

wc: 3971

warning/s: fem!reader, prisoner!kidd x nurse!reader, sfw (though kidd is cheeky and handsy fufufufu), fluff??, get together, idk if this is dark romance enough omg, nothing really crazy hereee hehehe

the most notorious gang of the south blue was the kidd pirates. their name strikes fear in the hearts of many. the crimes they commit are unfathomable to the ordinary. and in the middle of it all stands eustass kidd. the man who carries despair on his wake as he leaves his mark on every act he does yet he remain untouchable.

until he finally got met with a criminal greater than his caliber and the cops had luckily got to him. luckily. if it weren't for the injuries he sustained, the mafia leader would've ran away on the loose.

now settled on the farthest cell of the south blue penitentiary, his restless and bleeding state as he waited for the professional assigned to him. because no one is strong enough to handle the monster that he is. to even care for a damn criminal terrorizing their country.

not for you though, this was big money to you; now that this person is a special subject. the idea of him being a criminal is nothing compared to the digits you'll be earning for just one treatment with him. imagine the accumulation of that. after all, you've been in the healthcare industry for a long while, nothing can faze you.

except that when he's finally a few feet away from you and there was no one aside from you and him and the two guards that he could easily knock out even with cuffs, you felt your throat run dry.

"ah, i got a bonnie this time?" his voice was deep, befitting of a hulking, seven foot man like him. he said it with much interest, a grin on his lips as he eyed you from the doorway.

you took a good look at him from afar. his body littered with tattoos, representing the battles he won. his hair was in a shade of red as fiery as his demeanor. he still exudes power in him despite being injured and having restraints.

he looks like shit though. so beaten up, no wonder the authorities got to him. he had a massive scar spanning the side of his face with blood dripping down from his head, the emergency gauze in his face had already been coated with his blood. it cascaded down his chest up until his brachium. you sauntered to him and assessed his injuries.

"fucked up my tattoos, no?" he looked at his arm, still coated with dried blood.

"hardly." you forced a smile. "it's already fucked up."

kidd chuckled dryly. "hah. they sent an interesting one this time, aye? thought nurses are nice to their patients."

"nice patients get nice nurses. do you think it applies to you?" you sharply retorted. "come closer." you gestured for him to do so and the shuffling of the chains resounded in the cemented room.

you start by taking off the gauze in his facd, circling your arms on the sides of his head to remove it from behind. he got a good whiff of your perfume, smirking afterward as he closely examined how you look like.

"what's with the snickering?" you broke out, continuing your work without looking at him.

"nothin' really. don't mind me, bonnie." he continued to muse at you, as if memorizing how you look. "name, huh?" he read your nameplate pinned on the shirt one side of your chest.

you hummed in response. you revealed his nasty scar, his other eye with its bright yellows now finally looking at you. you grabbed a damp cloth and dipped it in antiseptic. "this'll sting really bad, okay?" you warned him, hovering the cloth above his massive wound.

he chuckled, smile growing at each of your exchanges. "you do know who your patient is, aye?"

"trust me, even a mass of destruction like you would fold from the pain." your face softened, as if teasing him before finally placing the cloth above his wound.

you could see him doing everything in his power to not move a muscle but you can see how much his jaw was clenching, his fists balled up as you press deeper on his fresh wounds. you let out a giggle, mumbling an 'i told you so'.

"still gonna be you tomorrow?" he broke out as you started packing up your stuff after finalizing his chart.

"why? are you going to miss me?" you said as a joke because you get the feeling he'd hate your guts, but what he said did something to your heart. illegally.

"suppose i will." he smiled meekly, dandelion orbs reflecting his anticipation. "careful on your way out, bonnie. don't want ya gone before tomorrow." he said as a goodbye but sounded more of a threat.

you couldn't get him out of your head that night. i mean, your search history has his name all over it. his origin, his crimes, his stories, what the news says about him, who he is—it was almost a crime knowing everything about it at this point.

so when you came back the next day and he was seemingly anticipating your arrival, you can't help but ask about him.

"how did a man of your caliber got caught?" you broke out when you were a few inches away from his face, nursing his wounds as it looked slightly better than yesterday.

"oh? did you look me up when you got home yesterday?" he grinned, eyes boring through you as he observed the adorable blushing of your cheeks. you gradually chewed on your bottom lip from his gaze. "how about it? you in awe, bonnie?"

you just snorted, fighting off the smile in your lips as you fetched him another cloth for his arms. you should really be ashamed, having fun with this criminal.

"no no, disappointed maybe."

kidd's eyes darkened. but you were doing it on purpose, rid him of that arrogance that he has over you.

"you're tryna piss me off or what?" his tone got a bit lower but you remain unfazed, even grabbing his arm and pulling him closer so you would have an easier time nursing his wounds.

"is it working?" you patted on his wound a little too hard and he winced. even the guards got a little freaked out but you felt too bold.

"are other nurses this fuckin' annoyin' or i got the short end of the stick?"

you broke into a smile, a laugh escaping your nose. "you can get a new one if you don't like me anymore, i can place a request for you." your voice was soft because you were pretty close to his face.

"don't you dare." he reached for your wrist but was restrained by the cuffs. the guards nagged him for it but he flipped them off. "been a while since things got interesting as hell. you're at fault for it."

"so i amuse you?"

"aye. don't get too close to me though. you're well aware of that."

"that won't be a problem, don't worry. i'm out of your tail once you're all better, eustass."

but it is a problem, it's starting to atleast. because this man is so very fond of you. from the moment he first tried speaking your name to the now where he naturally makes you laugh. but you're not one playing house with him, he just has his way with words and you somewhat share the same humor. you never forget the fact that the man before you has blood in his hands and you make sure you're not dancing in it.

"got a boyfriend, bonnie?" he said out of the blue as you almost cut your finger peeling some apples for him.

"i don't think it concerns you if i do have one." you carried on with your task, fixated on not cutting yourself. he really has an overwhelming presence even if it's been a few weeks now. you can feel him eyeing you, watching your every move.

"hm? a little cold now, huh? 's like we haven't been spendin' weeks together." he chuckled a little. "i'm askin' so i know if i should book a reservation at that fancy diner once i get out later."

you spared him a look of disbelief, laughing afterward at the absurdity of his words. but he just had a soft grin as he watch you break into laughter. "you're kidding."

he shook his head, smile remaining as he slyly raised his brows. adoring how you became a little red. whether it was out of embarrassment or something else, he knew it was about him.

"like what, you're gonna break out?" you said as a joke but he seemed serious with his scheming eyes and sharp smile.

"aye. it'll be carnage." he angled his head further and closer to your face, you felt his breath against your neck.

your eyes widen. for the first time, you felt fear against him. because you know he's serious about it. he's got a sentence for more than a couple of decades but it's of no significance for the most notorious of south blue. he'll escape in no time either by his mates or by himself.

"how do you know i won't rat you out?" you raised a brow, finally finishing the last apple slice and setting it down the plate next to him. you grabbed a fork and started feeding it to him one by one. he remains restrained ever since he got detained, he's too dangerous to remove from cuffs so even the most basic thing such as eating is done by you.

"just a gut. you don't want me gettin' in any trouble, aye?" he bit off the apple and chewed as his smile grew when you tried fighting off your smile with a subtle shake of your head.

"then if you think i do, you wouldn't break out of here."

"ah, where's the fun in that?" he shook his head and clicked his tongue. he soon motioned for you to come closer because he'll whisper something. "they're gonna be 'ere by midnight, standby till then. aye, bonnie?"

it was foreboding. there was only a couple of hours until midnight and you had to be going before then. he asked you where he'll be picking you up but you just laughed it off with him. he wouldn't do it, right?

part of you was in denial that he'd actually push through, he can't pull it off, right? this is a massive fortress in the middle of the ocean. how did he even communicate all of this to his gang? but that's a fucking criminal who's outsmarted the entire south blue, so it wasn't much of an unrealistic thing.

until the alarms blared a couple of minutes after midnight and you were jolted awake. still not having a grasp of the situation, you took a few seconds to settle in and align yourself with the state of just waking up and the damned alarm that messed with your brain.

you fell asleep on the nurse's on call room, a building away from the inmates. you told yourself you'd only take a moment to rest so you can pack up and leave but it was too late. gunshots had already filled the halls.

next thing you know, the door got knocked over by eustass kidd himself. he got shot in his other healthy arm and ended up collapsing down the floor from the impact. this guy is so fucking battered.

"oh, looks like i still found my way around you." he looked up, clutching his flesh arm that was shot with his newly lodged metal ones. without the cuffs, he generated one for his missing arm.

"y-you're bleeding again! i got you all healed up on one side and you're fucking up the other! is this on purpose!?" you frantically asked, looking around the room for a first aid kit.

kidd chuckled, "still true to your duty even in off times? you're one hell of a nurse."

you heard the steps and the gunshots nearing, and you didn't think twice to drag you and kidd to the bathroom. the guards soon entered the on call room and it was a goddamn mess it looked like a typhoon ran through it. but kidd was nowhere in sight. the only place left to check was the bathroom, which had its lights on.

"w-what the fuck are you- why are you strippin'?!" kidd turned red and all flustered, you had him standing at the other end of the tub with the water running from the shower on the other end. "also, why the fuck did you turn the shower on?!" you hushed him, as if telling him to trust you.

you wrapped a towel around you and then took everything off. only thing left is your panties so you appear quite literally naked. you then got in the tub with kidd. wetting your hair, your face and shoulders before drawing the curtain. kidd remained in his position uncomfortably standing as far as he can and keeping his eyes off of you, even though the proximity was so suffocating.

not even a second passed and the door busted open with the cops and their rifles pointed at the drawn curtain. they instantly dropped their guard and got flustered when they saw you peak from the shower.

"oh shit- sorry, nurse name. we're just- your patient broke out, the mob boss-"

"get out!"

they left apologizing, not questioning you anymore because they have seriously overstepped. the fact that the suspect might be inside flew off their heads when they saw a half naked woman.

"did all that just to save my ass? and now you're half naked before me? aren't you such a doll." kidd said behind you, turning off the shower as he got close to you in doing so, his chest pressing on your back. "let's get that shit off, aye? water makes my metal arm go weak."

it was at that point where everything had dawned in on you. the bullshit you were doing. helping a criminal and you were on your panties with just a towel covering your bare frame before him. you felt cold and you instantly stepped out the tub.

"oh? don't be scared. i won't fuckin' bite. matter of fact, i respect it. made me admire you more." kidd planned to get out but you just rushed to him and drew the curtains once more. pushing him quite fiercely back in the tub he almost slipped.

"s-stop! i-i'll g-get d-dressed first!" you said in much like a blabber, hurrying to just put some clothes on. kidd couldn't contain his smile, leaning his head by the walls and laughing silently to himself. the pain in his arm fading with the burst of joy. his heart getting a little too excited for you.

once it's all over you had him sit down the toilet seat so you can clean his wound and take the bullet out.

"hey, bonnie." he started, observing how you try to calm down with that flustered look on your face amidst prepping his wound to take the bullet out.

"mind tellin' me why you're doin' all this? coulda just left me there, aye? it ain't me to sweat the little things but it makes me wonder a lot about you. ain't you scared of me? for what i might do to you now that i ain't in cuffs anymore?"his voice was dark and he spoke a little slower this time. with sincere and observant eyes. he's making you feel hot with his gaze, so much so that you can't get the damn gloves in your sweaty hands.

"shut up just- shut up." you mumbled, still not looking at him in the eye. his metal hand grabbed your hand, which was earlier busy with tending to his shot arm, to stop you so you can look at him.

"i told you not to get close to me." he started, "so why the fuck are you still playin' nurse while i'm on the run?"

he wasn't teasing nor was he fucking around. kidd was genuinely looking for answers. because he makes a damn good point in calling you out. but you don't know either. you can just leave him lying around. get his head roll so peace will finally be in the south once and for all. but you can't because you're way too fond of him too.

you revere the rush with him. you're such a freak really, the adrenaline you get from the danger he exudes. he makes you excited. feeling like this for a patient is unethical but hell, at this point with the shit you're doing, you're bound to lose your license at this point.

"i didn't forget that dinner you promised." you sat before him, gloves finally in place while holding the forceps you had in your first aid kit. "now keep quiet cause i'll get that bullet out."

kidd was speechless. his heart running a mile per second, the pain in his arm as you carried out the task was almost dulled because he couldn't hear anything but his heart. he never thought you'd feel the same way. he thought you were way out of his league. but here you are now, saving him for another chance and not leaving him susceptible for infection.

but it was not long before he squirmed in pain when the bullet lodged in his brachium moved with you trying to pull it out. you tried alleviating his agony by gently holding him in place by the side of his neck, your thumb soothing circles near his pulse. he was going fucking ballistic at this point with your touch and stimulation and the excruciating pain in his arm.

once you got the bullet out, he was sweating. his body limp and leaning on the tiled walls of the bathroom. you stitched him up soon after cleaning his wound and then bandaged him. he was quiet and was watching you the whole time. very still and was not even teasing you.

"that was the longest i've heard you shut your mouth. was it that painful?" you joked, chuckling as you cut off the final strip of bandage from the roll.

but kidd had pulled you into a kiss with his metal arm when you met his eyes after your joke. he caught your breath as he grinned through your lips, angling his head better to sneak in his tongue. and you just melted like a puddle. your eyes wide open throughout the kiss.

but it was not long before you melted, taking him all in and closing your eyes. his tongue driving you nuts as you squeezed on his thigh, asking him to stop because more of it will make you explode.

once he pulled away, he gave your chin a little poke. the metal playfully meeting your skin with its cold surface.

that's how the most notorious man of the south had escaped with his assigned nurse. news spread out quickly that it was a love out of a novel that sparked in the walls of the prison. some crazy x crazy crap you two danced on.

because why else would you be so keen on making yourself smell good before he picks you up for that dumb dinner? maybe he'd like a sweet smell? or maybe a powdery smell? an erotic one?

and when did the most notorious overthought how he did his hair when he never really cared about it? would you like to see it messy? styled?

kidd had you wore a silk red dress he picked out while he donned a matching one. he pulled up with his convertible on one of his villas that he had you stay in for the time being. he let himself in and waited for you by the couches near the stairs, impatiently at that.

"couldn't wait any longer in your car?" your voice echoed the huge walls of his manor. he looked up and saw you, his heart skipped a beat at how mesmerizing you already look even when you're this far.

"i don't like waiting." he replied, a soft grin as he kept his eye on you as you descended the stairs and finally got close to him. "knew red would look good on you." kidd snaked his flesh arm on your side, placing a kiss down your neck so as to not ruin your make up.

he felt your pulse quicken and your breath hitch when he pulled away. his arm around you tighten. his cologne pungent. and you saw his scar up close, the one you nursed—god, he looked hot.

"hm? somethin' on my face?" he tilted his head a little, discerning the look in your eyes.

you held his cheek close and placed a kiss on his lips. a kiss that's been precarious and has been begging ever since you two parted ways—when he dropped you off of this villa and he went to his own place for a couple of days. you didn't catch sight of him nor did he stop by for a few days, you figured it's some things he's catching up on with the underworld cause he's been MIA for several weeks because of his arrest.

"your lips need more pigment, i don't want you looking dead when i got you all healed up." you wiped your thumb to the corner of his lips, getting rid of the smudged area. you admired your creation with a soft grin.

kidd fought every fiber of his being to not just sling you in his arm and take this all upstairs. after all–with one flick of his finger, that metal ring that keeps your dress together will come right off because that thing you did flipped a switch in him.

"since when did you become so damn cheeky." he slung his arm behind your neck and walked with you out the door. he shut the door behind you before manipulating the car door with his ability from afar so you could get in with ease.

"hm? isn't that one of the things why i amuse you?" you faced him, observing how he would react at your reply. but your stomach was already growling so he ended up laughing in driving off.

"you're kiddin'. how're you only gonna eat a steak dish at a michelin restaurant?" kidd almost berated you at your hesitance when you're literally having a date with one of the richest people in the world.

"i-it's my first time here i want to take it easy, plus i... think it'd be overstepping if i order a lot." you fiddled with your fingers. this wasn't your usual saturday nights so you felt a little shy about it.

"bonnie." he pulled you closer by the curve of your hips, the seat was a semicircular sofa surrounding half of the circular table so he was handsy with you. "this is my treat. the shit i'm spendin' 'ere ain't even a dime to me. so fuck off with that oversteppin' shit you're on about and enjoy the dinner with me, aye?" he slowly laid it out for you in his ear, his fingers digging on the sides of your bare thigh.

as you almost break into a smile, you hear gunshots from afar the restaurant with wares breaking and people exclaiming. kidd's grip around you tightened and he immediately pulled out his gun.

then it dawned in on you. you're both wanted, branded as fugitives. you might as well learn how to fight now, because you'll always be doing it with kidd on your side. constantly being on the run as the first lady of the south blue's most notorious man.

AAAAAHHH 🥹🫶 this was kinda hard to do! i didn't know how to make it dark romancy? as a SN this got me thinkin too much 🫣😳

thank you so much for the request anon! 🌷 kidd as a mafia boss 🤩🔥

if you guys are interested in requesting a fic for my 500 followers event, my askbox is open! click here for the main event post for more info :DD i have slots for forced proximity, hurt to comfort, fantasy, he puts you in your place (smut), and modern aus!

[deathmimedream]

🖋️

“You’re new here.” The deep, honey-sweet voice said.

And he meant it not to be threatening, but it was hard when your usual firm was over eight feet tall.

Though currently, Caliber was wearing his glamour, so unless one had the gifts of magic, he simply looked like this:

[pedge-page]

I'm new to ur page idk if this is done but I...I want Joel to piss inside a plushie....

Puddles - a Plushies x PK drabble

Notes: I've been waiting to write this one so here we go! Can read more plushies!Joel through Plushies Series masterlist, though they can all be read as standalone fics

Warnings: Pisskink!Joel, piss kink, Drunk!Joel, solo masturbation with a stuffed animal, yes he is pissing inside poor plushie, plushie fucking briefly

18+ ONLY

- - - -

He may have gone a little bit overboard when Tommy invited him for the crew’s so-called ‘happy hour get together’. He knew they all liked to go out and celebrate with a few drinks after completing a project, and this last one they just wrapped up for some posh client with outrageous requests was no different. 

Joel usually liked to skip out on them. First, because he didn’t want to know what these clowns might be up to when they get tipsy, letting whatever sober-less things go on follow his mind to the next job site. But also because he’s getting too old for that college level shit. Hangovers aren’t nearly as fun when you’re pushing well past middle age. 

But, he didn’t want to be home alone since you were going to be working late.

So, two beers turned into twelve and a few more various alcohol spiked beverages here and there, and boom. Joel’s swaying side to side along the sidewalk with Tommy guiding him all the way up the front door.

“You sure you don’t need me, brother?” Tommy asks hesitantly. 

Joel, with lolling eyes and a grin, confidently waves him off after successfully entering his key into the door after 6 tries.

He stumbles through into the dark alone, and the first thing that hit him is how badly he wants to curl up on your plushie filled bed. He thought about you all night; your shampoo filling his nose when you cuddle him, the smooth streak of your naked back when you finish a shower, the wet indulgence of your pussy when he eats you out.

He’s never going to admit it, but the man is clingy as shit when you’re around. And he’s craving some much needed plushie pussy time.

Shit, the alcohol is really swimming in his brain. 

And, he realizes, with a firm and shiver-some squeeze to his crotch, elsewhere in his body. 

Ironically, the bathroom is not what beckons him.

With a devious smirk, he instead tumbles into the bedroom. Through the moonlit drapes, a wave of beady eyed babies stare back at him.

“Hello freaks,” he chuckles. They probably miss you too. Honestly it’s really rude, if you think about it, the way you abandon your buddies here AND Joel all in one night? Atrocious behavior. Someone ought to teach you better.

“Daddy’s home."

He falls forward, his knees catching the edge of the bed. An array of colorful volunteers practically jumping up and down at his presence to be engulfed by the precious aroma of Joel Miller.

That’s how drunk-Joel is seeing it. In reality, if they could run for their fluffy lives, they would. 

A quick hand snatches one yellow blob by its neck. His eyes struggle to get a clear picture—whether from the alcoholic haze or the darkness obscuring his vision. Possibly both. The dark bill and flappy arms come into focus.

“Duck,” he muses to himself. “Bet ya name is Duckie, some shit like that. She ain't good with the namein.” He rolls the unfortunate one over to its back, inspecting its caliber. Its definitely older: matted fur smushed down in certain areas, lack of vibrant coloring, some faded and torn edged fabric on its bow tie. Bitty holes sewn up here and there with mismatched (and poorly seemed) threaded needle. Your college waitressing job used to be for a place called the Quavern, so this little guy’s gotta be your graduation farewell from that team.

“Well mister Quakers. You n' me gonna get to know each other real well right now. Got something I need ya to hold f’me,” Joel slurs. One hand frees the button of his jeans while the other begins to prod at a loose tear in poor DuckDuck’s underside. He pokes and prods and scissors a little too harshly with his sausage fingers before a tell-tale rip echoes in the room. “Oops,” he chuckles with very little guilt as he forces the hole a bit wider and palms his crotch a bit harder. 

Yeah, he gets hard when touching your stuffed animals. He can’t help it! With all the naughty activities you do with them, they’re practically hug buddies by day, sex toy by night. His mind feels foggy, but the building sensation along his lower stomach is the only thing churning his actions. With a few lazy pumps, Joel slots his mushroom tip at the cottony hole he’s made in the poor plush. He pushes through, groaning with his head tossed slightly back as dry softness envelops his pulsing length. 

“Shit—that’s it. Take it little guy.” He bites his lips and peers below, watching his dick penetrate the stuffed animal.

He knows he should put it down, sew it up, put it back, and go do his business in the bathroom like a good, well trained boyfriend. But then again, he knows how fucking pissed you’ll be if he defiles your plushies again. Then you’ll never leave him unattended at home, and that means more pussy drinking and rubbing on these fuckers for him.

Joel doesn’t even realize he’s pissing inside the poor animal until it starts to sag heavily with the weight and wetness coating his hand. “Ooohhhhhhhhhh,” he gasps with furrowed brows. As his bladder empties, the duck grows damper and darker, the fur and cotton soaking it up from the inside out until it’s dripping down his ballsack.  He thrusts inside a few times, the warm wet sensation making him choke out a curse. It’s not quite like your pussy, but the heat is better than nothing. He pushes it flush against his pubic bone, another rush of liquid hissing through and muffled by Mr Quack’s soft innards.

If he wasn’t so fucking wasted right now, he’d fuck it into oblivion. give it the good ol'Miller beating. Fertilize its eggs, if you will. But with his bathroom situation now relieved, Joel yanks the thing off and chucks it to the ground. His brain collapses just as he falls towards the bed, drowning in his own much needed slumber.

-

you shake your head and laugh, hands on your hips at the sight in front of you.

Joel’s out cold face forward in your bed. His jeans are loosely wrapped around his hips and his old tee still on, so if it wasn’t for his loud snoring, you’d assume the man was dead. He hadn’t even made it fully on the bed, his tip toes still holding him up on the floor and legs dangling at an angle.

A few of your stuffed animals had managed to crawl out from underneath him, scattered around when he most likely dropped onto the bed. You pick them up one by one: dusty Carly the Crow, the now famed Mr Oinkers (with battery pack turned OFF), Whiskers the Cat, and poor old Puddles the Duc—

Your disgusted screech has Joel sitting up so fast he nearly capsizes off the bed. The confused, hungover lump is met with his bewildered and screaming girlfriend who’s yanking him by the neck and wringing him viciously with as much might as you can muster.

“STOP—FUCKING—PISSING—IN—MY—PLUSHIES!” You roar with wild eyes and gritted teeth, choking him within an inch of his life. You shake his neck up and down like you’re going to hammer his head into the bed post. 

It takes him a moment, with wide eyes and hands wrapped around your wrists, before his gaze lands on the poorly discarded evidence of last night: a very overly yellow duck soaking into the floor boards in a puddle of liquid gold.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

[make1wish]

Gojo fanfic: Secret Affair

Gojo Satoru X Fem!Reader

TW:🔞NSFW, noncon, carplay

Setting: After graduation, I became Gojo Satoru's assistant supervisor. I had a crush on Gojo Satoru during my student days, but after working with him, I broke my illusions upon understanding his true nature.

The night air was crisp and cool as the black sedan glided smoothly along the empty highway. Streetlights cast intermittent shadows across the interior, briefly illuminating the two occupants within. In the driver's seat, I maintained a professional posture, hands gripping the steering wheel at precisely ten and two, eyes fixed steadfastly on the road ahead. The mission had been almost insultingly simple for someone of Gojo's caliber - a mere C-grade curse that he had dispatched with his characteristic flair and minimal effort.

A heavy sigh from the backseat broke the tense silence. Gojo had sprawled himself across the leather upholstery, his blindfolded face turned toward the window though his attention was clearly elsewhere. "So boring," he drawled, stretching his long legs as much as the confined space would allow. "These little errands are hardly worth the time it takes to get there and back."

My grip tightened imperceptibly on the steering wheel, but I kept my voice neutral. "The mission was successful. That's what matters." I could feel his attention shift to me like a physical weight, that familiar prickling sensation across my skin that always accompanied his focused regard.

"Always so serious," Gojo mused, his tone taking on that dangerous playful edge that made my stomach clench. He leaned forward, close enough that I could feel his breath ghost across my ear. "You used to be much more... entertaining back in your student days. Remember how you'd blush every time I called on you in class?"

The car swerved slightly as I jerked in surprise, quickly correcting our course. "That was a long time ago, Gojo-sensei," I replied stiffly, deliberately using his former title. "I've grown up since then."

A low chuckle rumbled from behind me. "Have you really?" His hand came to rest on my headrest, fingers just barely brushing against my hair. "Because I think you're still that same flustered kouhai underneath all this professional facade. Shall we test that theory?"

The implications in his voice sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with fear. I opened my mouth to object, to maintain those carefully constructed boundaries, but the words died in my throat as his other hand settled on my shoulder, thumb tracing lazy circles against my collarbone.

"I know a much more... entertaining way to pass the time," Gojo purred, his usual smirk evident in his voice. "What do you say? Care to help relieve my boredom?"

His suggestion hung in the air between us, heavy with implications. I forced myself to focus on the road ahead, though my hands had begun to tremble slightly on the steering wheel. The traffic light ahead turned red, forcing me to bring the car to a stop. In the sudden stillness, Gojo's presence behind me seemed to grow even more overwhelming.

"You haven't answered my question," he murmured, his fingers trailing down from my collarbone to trace idle patterns along my arm. "Still so shy after all these years? Or perhaps..." His hand drifted to my thigh, the touch feather-light but deliberate. "Perhaps you're just better at hiding it now?"

My breath caught in my throat as memories of my student days came flooding back - the way I used to watch him during lectures, how my heart would race whenever he called my name. I had thought those feelings were long buried, replaced by professional detachment and the jaded knowledge of his true nature. But under his touch, those old emotions stirred traitorously.

"This is inappropriate," I managed to say, though my voice lacked conviction. "We have a professional relationship now, Gojo-san."

He laughed softly, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "Professional? Is that what you tell yourself?" His hand squeezed my thigh gently. "Your heart rate says otherwise. Your breathing too. You're still such an open book to me."

The light turned green, but I remained frozen, caught between the urge to drive away from this dangerous situation and the magnetic pull of his touch. Gojo took advantage of my hesitation, leaning even closer until his lips brushed against my ear.

"I remember every blush, every stammer, every longing look you tried to hide," he whispered, his words dripping with dark amusement. "Did you think I didn't notice? That I didn't enjoy watching you squirm in your seat whenever I got too close?"

His hand slid higher up my thigh, and I bit back a gasp. Behind us, a car honked impatiently at our continued stillness at the green light. The sharp sound snapped me back to reality, and I quickly pressed the accelerator, perhaps a bit too hard. Gojo's grip tightened to steady himself, the pressure of his fingers sending sparks of electricity through my body.

"Getting flustered?" he taunted, making no move to withdraw his hand. "Where should I drive next? Your thigh? Your waist?" His fingers traced a path upward, following the seam of my pants. "Or perhaps somewhere more interesting?"

"Pull over," Gojo commanded, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. The authority in his tone left no room for argument, and I found myself automatically signaling and guiding the car onto a secluded shoulder of the road, hidden in the shadows between streetlights.

His hand never left my thigh as I put the car in park, his fingers maintaining that maddening, gentle pressure. The engine's quiet purr seemed to match my racing heartbeat as Gojo's other hand came up to brush my hair aside, exposing my neck to the warm caress of his breath.

"Good girl," he murmured against my skin, and I couldn't suppress a shiver. "You always were so obedient when it really mattered." His lips ghosted over my pulse point, not quite kissing, just letting me feel their presence. "Tell me, do you still think about those days? About all the things you wanted me to do to you?"

My fingers clenched around the steering wheel as his hand began to move, tracing teasing patterns up my inner thigh. "Gojo-san," I breathed, meaning it as a warning but it came out more like a plea. "We shouldn't..."

"Shouldn't what?" he asked, nipping lightly at my earlobe. His fingers found the buttons of my blouse, deftly undoing them one by one. "Shouldn't acknowledge how your breath catches when I touch you? Shouldn't notice how you're pressing into my hand right now?"

He was right - to my shame, I had unconsciously arched into his touch, my body betraying years of carefully maintained professional distance. His hand slipped inside my partially opened blouse, fingers dancing across my collarbone before trailing down to trace the lace edge of my bra.

"Look how responsive you still are," he purred, clearly delighting in my helpless reactions. "All that professional facade, and underneath you're still that same eager student who used to watch me with such hungry eyes." His teeth grazed my neck, and I had to bite back a moan. "I wonder what else hasn't changed?"

His hand slid higher up my thigh, bunching my skirt as it went, while his other hand continued its torturous exploration of my upper body. Each touch was precisely calculated to drive me mad - firm enough to send sparks of pleasure through my body, but too light to provide any real satisfaction.

A car passed by on the highway, its headlights briefly illuminating the interior of our vehicle. The flash of light reminded me of where we were, what we were doing, but instead of bringing me to my senses, the risk of discovery only heightened every sensation. Gojo seemed to sense this, chuckling darkly against my neck as his fingers found a particularly sensitive spot that made me gasp.

"That's it," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Let go of that control you're so desperate to maintain. Show me how badly you still want me."

His words shattered the last of my resistance. With a soft whimper, I surrendered to his touch, my head falling back against the headrest as his skilled fingers continued their relentless exploration. Gojo's satisfied chuckle vibrated against my neck as he sensed my submission.

"That's more like it," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Now, let's see just how much you remember..." His hand slipped beneath the hem of my skirt, fingers trailing along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. Each touch sent electric shivers through my body, making me arch involuntarily against him.

The confined space of the car filled with the sound of my ragged breathing as Gojo's ministrations grew bolder. His other hand had found its way inside my blouse, expertly unfastening my bra with a casual flick of his fingers. The cool night air kissed my exposed skin, making me gasp.

"Still so sensitive," he observed, his thumb brushing across my hardened nipple. "I've always wondered if you were this responsive everywhere..." His fingers slid higher, teasing along the edge of my underwear. "Shall we find out?"

I could only manage a breathless moan in response, my hips lifting unconsciously to meet his touch. The last vestiges of my professional facade crumbled as his fingers finally slipped beneath the delicate fabric, finding me already embarrassingly wet.

"My, my," he purred, clearly delighting in my reaction. "Is this all for me? Or do you always get this excited during missions?" His skilled fingers began a torturous rhythm that had me clutching desperately at the steering wheel, my knuckles white with tension.

Through the haze of pleasure, I was dimly aware of his other hand guiding my own away from the wheel, bringing it behind me to press against the growing hardness in his pants. "Feel what you do to me?" he growled, his usual playful tone replaced by something darker, more primal. "All these years, watching you try to maintain that professional distance, knowing exactly what was hiding underneath..."

His fingers curled inside me, finding that perfect spot that made stars explode behind my eyes. I couldn't hold back the cry that escaped my lips, my body trembling on the edge of release. But Gojo wasn't finished with me yet. With a swift movement, he reclined my seat back, giving him better access as he continued his relentless assault on my senses.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice rough with desire. "Let me hear you. Let me see you fall apart." His thumb circled my most sensitive spot while his fingers maintained their merciless rhythm. "Show me how badly you've wanted this."

The combination of his commanding tone, skilled touch, and the forbidden nature of our encounter proved too much. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me as I came undone under his expert manipulation, my body arching off the seat as I cried out his name.

But even as I shuddered through the aftershocks, I could feel his growing smirk against my neck. "We're just getting started," he promised darkly, and I knew with absolute certainty that this night would change everything between us.

[moraxsthrone]

TITLE — spoiled

PAIRING — dom!sugarbaby!zhongli x sub!sugarmama!f!reader

WC — 4.6k

WARNINGS — nsfw. MDNI. modern au. soft dom/sub dynamic. oral (m. & f. rcv'ing). deepthroat/facefucking. overstim. squirting. creampie.

NOTES — i always said that when (not if) zhongli came home, i would spoil him rotten. i went from having no zhongli to having him at C2 lvl 90 + staff of homa + a 2pc/2pc tenacity/noblesse set, and him being in the top 21% of zl hybrid builds on the NA server, hitting 100k+ dmg...all in less than a month. i've been good to him and he's been soooooo good to me so i wanted to write this as a celebratory, homecoming gift for my long-awaited, highly spoiled geo daddy. thanks to @crystalflygeo for the idea and inspiration! i hope i did it justice! <3

the knock comes so gently you wouldn't have heard it had you not been expecting it.

“come in,” you say, finishing the last piece of paperwork and setting your pen down on your big oak desk.

the heavy door creaks open, zhongli striding in before closing the door behind himself.

“working late again, my lady?” the young man muses with a subtle smile, looking dapper in his favorite armani suit that’s been perfectly tailored to the lean musculature of his frame.

a leaden sigh escapes your lips. “yes, but fortunately i’ve just finished. your timing is impeccable, my dear sir,” you say with a playful lilt while leaning back in your chair. “i presume i’m not the only one since someone else must’ve let you in.”

“your receptionist was just leaving as i arrived.”

“well, now that you’re here, to what do i owe the pleasure?”

“i wanted to thank you again for the handsome topaz cufflinks you procured for me yesterday at that fancy boutique-” he says in his unhurried baritone, fidgeting with one of them. zhongli sounds so commanding without even trying, making your loins stir with want. you’ve taken great pleasure in spoiling him since meeting him a couple months ago, buying him everything he’s had an eye for, as well as a lot of things he hasn’t even asked for…

“i knew you’d appreciate them, what with your exquisite taste…” you interject, admiring the way the dark orange gemstones bring out his eyes. “besides, the color becomes you.”

he smiles back, making him look more boyish. “only someone with a discerning eye for quality and beauty such as yourself would even take me to places that sell such high caliber merchandise.” he walks towards you, leaning against the front of your desk mere inches from where your arm rests. “but i want you to know that i appreciate the little things just as much, if not more so. something as simple as say…” his voice trails for a moment, “...indulging me in afternoon tea means a lot to me.”

“oh? but your company is no small thing, zhongli. i enjoy lavishing you with gifts, of course. but you give me your time and conversation in return, and that is far more valuable to me than any gift i could bestow upon you…”

“you sure?” 

your brow crinkles at his hinting tone. “what do you mean?”

he reaches out with his gloved hand, delicately cupping your jaw as his boyish smile fades. “you’re a very busy lady. your time and attention are in high demand. and yet you decide to give what little of it you have over to me. your time is far more valuable than anything you could possibly buy me, and that’s something for which i could never repay you…”

you raise your eyebrows at him in sincerity. “zhongli. as i’ve already stated, your company is more than enough-”

"my lady," he reaches for your hand and brings your dainty knuckles to his lips. “...if i may?”

your mouth drops open in surprise. though you certainly wouldn’t be opposed to it, you’ve never so much as alluded to the prospect of an intimate relationship with him. you’re beautiful. powerful. but also - as he’s pointed out - very busy, leaving you precious little time for meeting a suitable mate, let alone courting one. so just spending time with zhongli - listening to his captivating stories, admiring his handsome face, hearing his spell-binding voice - has been more than worth any amount of money you could spend on him.

“zhongli, w-what…?” you give into the gentle tug of his hand, standing from your chair to face him. with your hand still in his, he cups your cheek with the other while bringing his lips dangerously close to yours. “zhongli, wait,” you say, catching your breath in your throat before he can take it away. “you don’t owe me anything…”

“perhaps not, my lady,” he says, his thumb stroking your burning cheek. “but i would quite like to give you something anyway.” your eyes search his as he speaks, his gaze so comfortably heavy. “you’re beautiful,” he says, breath fanning across your lips. “you’ve been exceedingly generous to me…and i want to give you what i feel is owed to you…”

“but zhongli,” you try, your voice so small and shaky with desire, “i’ve already said you don’t owe m-”

“forgive my insolence,” he interrupts, not sounding sorry at all, “but allow me to put it this way: i’m going to give you what you deserve.”

his thumb grazes your lower lip, only to trail down the column of your pretty neck as his lips finally and mercifully claim yours. and you give yourself permission to kiss him back. how could you not? of course you’ve never expected anything from him, but you’d be lying if you said you’d never fantasized about kissing him, touching him.

zhongli is incredibly intelligent and knowledgeable, devastatingly handsome, and his voice alone is enough to make your panties wet every time you hear it. in spite of the fact that you’ve been providing for him, it is he who seems to hold some unspoken power over you.

breaking from the kiss, you look up into his amber eyes. “wh-what i deserve?”

without a word he turns you around, your butt now pressing against the edge of your desk.

“by now you must think i’m a weak man…”

you shake your head. “no. i don’t think that at all-”

he places his fingers over your lips. “ah-ah. i wasn’t finished speaking, my lady.”

your eyes widen, filling with lust and desire at his insistent tone. yes. you need this. and he knows it. zhongli isn’t just giving you what you want or deserve; he’s giving you what you need.

“but-”

before you can utter another sound, zhongli spins you around until your hips are pressing against the edge of your desk. you feel his hips press against your bottom, gasping quietly at the unmistakable hard bulge pressing against you.

“zhongli?”

he grinds against you, the force causing the edge of your desk to dig into your hip bones.

“you can feel me, can’t you?” he whispers, his wet lips grazing the edge of your ear. “i’ve wanted you like this all along. does that come as a surprise to you, my lady?”

before you can formulate a response, zhongli’s hands - now naked and warm after having removed his gloves - are running along your bare skin under your pencil skirt until it’s bunched up below your ass cheeks. one of his hands slips between your legs, spreading them apart to slowly make his way up until he feels the moisture between them. 

“it would seem you’ve thought about this before as well,” he deduces, eliciting an affirmative hum from you as a response.

his other hand gently pushes your hair aside to expose the back of your neck and you feel the heat of his breath there as his soft lips ghost over your goosebumped skin.

“you must get so tired of having so much responsibility on you,” he mutters. “wouldn’t it be nice to relinquish control every once in a while?”

his voice alone is enough to easily seduce you. with a small nod, your eyes flutter closed as you fight the chill that wants to run down your spine. “y-yes, zhongli, it’s…” your breath hitches when his thumb brushes your lace-covered clit, “...exhausting sometimes.”

a deep chuckle forms in his throat as he peppers light kisses along the back of your bare neck, pushing the ruffle trim top of your dress off one of your shoulders to expose more of your soft skin.

“then allow me.” grasping the back zipper between his fingers, he pulls it down, taking his precious time undressing you from your collar to your tailbone. “if at any point you want me to stop, just say 'lapis'," he whispers and you agree.

he pushes the sleeves over and off of your arms before unfastening your bra. everything falls to the floor, the expensive material pooling around your feet. having rendered you naked save for your panties and designer heels, he stands back a bit and tells you to turn around and face him. feeling a bit self-conscious, you cover your breasts and bite your lower lip nervously as you follow his order.

“tut-tut.” zhongli shakes his head in mild disapproval. “uncover yourself. i want to see every inch of your gorgeous body.”

you lower your arms, exposing your creamy breasts with pretty, budded nipples and zhongli’s amber eyes seem to glow with arousal. he takes his time looking you up and down, licking his lips, drinking in your form as his hard cock strains against his slacks. 

kissing you as he comes in close again, pulling you in with his hands on your ass to let the clothed head of his cock rub against your panty-clad pussy. you gasp and he grips his own cock through his pants and rubs the head over your hidden clit.

reaching for one of your hands, he places it on his clothed erection, sending a jolt of arousal to your core. “touch me,” he says. "i know you want to."

you nod, giving his girth a tentative squeeze through his expensive slacks. a quiet groan escapes zhongli’s throat as he pushes himself into your hand, watching you with hooded eyes as you palm him. even through the dark virgin wool you can feel that his cock is thick and hot, and you can’t help but clench as you imagine how it would feel to be taken and filled by him.

“get on your knees,” he commands and you obey, putting you at eye level with the wet spot that has formed where his cockhead is pressing against his slacks. “take my cock out.” 

you can hardly believe this is happening. not five minutes ago, you were having an innocent conversation with your platonic sugarbaby. now you’re on your knees, seconds away from freeing his cock and tasting his precum - something you’ve wanted since first laying eyes on him but never thought would become a reality.

your well-manicured hands reach for his belt, unfastening it before opening his pants to free his impressive dick. it’s so pretty - thick and pale with a bulbous tip flushed dark pink and a couple of fat veins running the length of him. you lick your lips and wrap your hand around his silky shaft, so warm and hard. without thinking, you open your mouth to lick his swollen cockhead but he reaches down and stops you with a finger to your chin.

“did you ask for permission to suck my cock?”

his authoritative tone has you soaking through your panties, your own slick coating your inner thighs. “n-no, sir.” zhongli is pleasantly surprised at how effortlessly you’ve stepped into your submissive role. “may i please suck your cock, mister zhongli?” you ask, making his member twitch in your hand.

he gives you a kind, crooked smile. “yes, of course, little one.”

his salty flavor has you clenching around nothing when you drag your tongue from the underside of his cockhead to his slit. you give it a little kiss before swirling your wet muscle around it. “mmm~ you taste so good, mister zhongli…want more.”

“such a greedy slut,” he rasps with a crooked grin. “tell you what - i’ll give you a mouthful of my flavor, but you have to earn it.” he runs his fingers through your hair. “suck my cock well enough and i’ll let you drink as much of my cum as you can handle.”

his words have you eagerly wrapping your lips tightly around him, slowly taking him all the way to the back of your throat to make yourself salivate more. pumping your fist along what you can’t fit in your mouth, pretty soon the room is filled with wet, sucking noises along with the occasional grunt and muffled gag.

with your hand still jerking him, you pull off him with a gasp.

“did i say you could stop?” he rasps, fingers tightening in your hair.

“no, sir.” you barely get the words out before you quickly suck him in again. never before have you enjoyed sucking a cock so much as zhongli’s.

as he watches you bob on him like a cock-hungry whore, zhongli takes off his waistcoat and begins to unbutton the tailored shirt you bought him a couple of weeks ago. he works it off until he’s naked from the waist up. it’s difficult to fully appreciate the sculpt of his perfect body from this angle, but you can make out his chiseled chest and mouth-watering abs, causing you to whimper on his length.

he pets your hair and praises you before resting both his hands on top of your head. he guides your pace slowly at first, working himself deeper, pressing into your throat as he rocks his hips until he’s fucking your mouth. you’re gagging on him, a string of spit and precum hanging from your chin.

“look at me while you’re sucking my dick, little one,” he says, voice still commanding but heavy with lust.

you obey, looking up at him while he admires the way your pretty lips stretch around his wide shaft, traces of your lipstick mixing with your saliva on his skin. it’s hard to see him through the tears that prick at your eyes, but your slick is dripping from your panties onto the floor below. as your fingernails dig slightly into the flesh of his toned thighs, you swear you could cum with his cockhead deep in your throat. 

the way your tears dot your eyelashes makes him suck air through his teeth. “nnfuck~ do you have any idea how pretty you look choking on my cock like this, little one?” zhongli’s hips are rocking steadily, his tight balls touching your chin with every thrust. “such a good fucking girl…are you ready for your reward?”

all you can do is moan, the vibration sending him over the edge. with his fingers tangled in your hair, he presses his patch of black hair against the tip of your nose. fighting to keep his eyes focused on you, zhongli groans loudly, releasing his orgasm down your raw, well-deserved throat.

he pulls out of your mouth, leaving you sputtering and gasping for air. but you’ve loved every second of it. even when he’s forceful, zhongli has a grace about him that’s difficult to describe. but you sense it, you know it when you’re with him like this. “th- *gasp* thank you, m-mister zhongli. thank you f- *cough* for your cum.”

“you did so well, little one,” he groans, tenderly rubbing his thumb over your tear-streaked cheek. collecting some stray semen from your chin, he pushes his thumb between your lips and you suck on it, moaning at the feeling of more of his creamy fluid coating your tongue. “you earned every drop, so don’t waste it.”

your willingness to please, your gratitude, your pliability…they all endear you to him. you may spend your money on him, but he slips into the role of your doting dominant just as seamlessly. he wants to take care of you. to dominate you and reduce you to a babbling mess underneath him, but he wants to care for you and make sure you know you’re safe even more so.

he helps you to your feet before backing you up against your desk. he picks you up, semi-hard cock bouncing with his movements, and sets your ass down on the documents you’d just finished when he came into your office.

“zh-zhongli, the paperwork-”

“my dear, the paperwork should be the least of your concerns right now, but if you must know,” he huffs, pulling your drenched panties down and off your legs, “those documents are as good as ruined…”

before you can protest he curls his hands behind your knees and yanks your ass to the edge of your desk, important forms dragging along beneath you, some fluttering to the floor. now you’re naked, save for your louboutins. zhongli clasps his hands around your ankles and lifts them in the air before bringing his lips to one of them and blazing a long, slow trail along the inside of your leg. 

“but don’t you worry…” he mutters between kisses to your skin, his lust-darkened eyes looking right into yours, “your work will be the last thing on your mind by the time i’m done with you.”

his words, his voice, his gaze…it’s all too much and you shudder under his touch, breathing his name. your hands find his dark brown hair, the long ponytail hanging over his shoulder and tickling your electrified skin as he sucks a bruise into your inner thigh.

zhongli’s hands glide down the length of your legs, spreading them to expose your wet, swollen lips. “your pussy is stunning, my lady. even more beautiful than it smells.” he pushes your knees further back, his softened cock twitching back to life as he watches your folds open for him. he breathes you in, groaning at the pink tip of your hard bud peeking out from between your inner lips. “i’ve been dying to taste you…

“ohhh~” you keen, back arching when you feel the heat of his breath on your neglected sex. “mister zhongli…please~”

“please what?” he grumbles, dark amber eyes peering up at you from between your legs.

“p-please…” you plead, voice meek and submissive, “please lick me…”

without taking his eyes off you, he sticks his tongue out and licks a slow, wide strip over your puffy lips. your hips jolt at the tender sensualilty of his warm, silky muscle touching you where you need him most.

“your flavor…” he moans quietly, “delectable.” he teases his tongue around your hard pearl, swiping slowly between your inner labia to taste more of you. “sweeter and more intoxicating than any wine i’ve had the pleasure of rolling over my tongue…”

already you’re cooing for him and he can’t help but want to hear what other sounds he might be able to pull from you, never mind how much he’s dying to devour you. he swirls his tongue around your tiny, pink erection before wrapping his lips around it and sucking it in against his tongue. immediately your back arches off the desk as you gasp his name, shoving your sex deeper into his mouth. zhongli’s brows furrow as he sucks you in harder with a deep growl. his graceful hands are pushing on the backs of your thighs, pressing you further open to dip his tongue inside your tight hole.

“gahahhh~” you cry out, his nose nudging your throbbing clit as he fucks you with his wet muscle.

he lifts his face from your pussy, glistening with the mixture of your arousal and his spit. you open your eyes but before you can whine in protest, he kisses you, and you moan at the taste of your pussy on his tongue as he presses two expert fingers inside you. you cry into his mouth, the pad of his thumb massaging your clit.

he pulls away, a string of your juices and his saliva connecting your lips. “such a good girl for me,” zhongli pants, drunk on your pussy. he slips his naked shoulders under your thighs, his free hand pushing up over your tummy and ribs to cup your breast and gently squeeze your pebbled nipple. “i think it’s time for another reward, hm?” all you can muster is a pitiful whimper in response as his fingertips find your sweet spot. “but you have to promise to cum for me, little one,” he breathes.

“y-yes, sir…” you all but sing for him, “please, mister zhongli…promise…i promise i'll cum for you~”

a dark smile tugs at his lips as he lowers his mouth to your cunt, sucking your clit into his warm, wet mouth once again. his fingers work you over nicely, tugging vigorously against your g-spot as he rubs his flexed tongue over your hard, pink tip. your orgasm builds slowly, deep in your bones and outward intensely as your fingers curl in his hair and you buck your hips against his face.

“fuck, oh god~” you cry out, only for him to latch on tighter, determined to suck you all the way off and drink down every last drop of your orgasm.

his waiting mouth is filled with your essence as his blunt fingertips dig into the plush of your hips. he drinks you down as best he can as you gush for him, but a fair amount of your liquid escapes his mouth and drips lewdly from his chin. slowly he pulls away, sliding his fingers out of your still-clenching pussy. you’re still too drunk on your high to notice yet, but his cock is in his hand, hard and leaking again. 

“so good…” he drawls, standing and sliding his dark pink cockhead between your wet, slippery folds.

you flinch at the contact. you want it - more than anything - but you’re so sensitive and his swollen tip is driving you mad as it bounces over your poor little clit.

zhongli huffs, his cock momentarily catching on your hole before sliding between your pussy lips again. he knows how overstimmed you must be but he’s too needy to care about that right now. he’s wanted to slip his cock into you for far too long and now that his shaft is sliding between your slippery folds he can’t hold back any longer. 

how many nights and mornings has he thought of you while fucking his own hand until he soiled his sheets with his hot sticky semen? how many afternoons has he returned to his office after enjoying a kettle of tea with you, only to lock his door and pull his cock out of his trousers before jacking off while moaning your name under his breath. too many times he has tried to be quiet while biting his lower lip and whimpering quietly as he filled his own hand with his thick, white cum until it dripped between his fingers onto the wooden floor below.

he leans over you, one hand planted on your desk and the other still guiding his cock, massaging your swollen clit with his thick tip. 

“you’ve been so good to me,” he groans, lust-blown amber eyes looking down at you with fire in them. “you’ve given me everything i’ve wanted and more…” the underside of his hard shaft is gliding noisily between your folds.

“y-you deserve the whole world, zhongli,” you breathe, looking into his eyes. “i adore you…” his eyes soften at your proclamation. he stops moving his hips and kisses you, soft and tender, his tongue rolling slowly around yours before pulling away just enough to look at your beautiful face again, your eyes so full of desire and affection for him. “and i you. please-” he breathes, eyes narrowing and his hips moving again, slowly. “…let me take care of you.” both of your breaths hitch when his cockhead finally presses against your hole and stretches you open.

“nnhh~fuck, zhongli…so good~” you keen, your mouth falling open at the feeling of the soft pop of your pussy as it surrenders to his meaty tip pushing past it, deeper into your wet heat.

“ahh~” he gasps deeply, “y-you…” his head falls to your neck as he works himself in and out, a little deeper each time, “you feel -mmff- perfect~” your warm, soft walls welcome him, yield to him, sucking him in hard as you moan for him.

zhongli's cock is slick and glistening with your need. his hands hold your hips in place as he plunges into you harder, his fingertips dimpling your plush skin. your nose is buried in his hair, breathing in his masculine scent and his deep grunts as he flicks his tongue over your nipple while his naked hips clap against your ass. he rises, yanking your ass to the edge of the desk and holds you there with his hands over your thighs as he drives his length - hard and thick and wet - into your heat. your lover maintains eye contact with you as he puts your ankles on his shoulders, his hands around your hips to hold you in place when he begins thrusting harder.

fueled by your cries of pleasure, zhongli fucks you right. he takes care of you just like he said he would. you can feel the pressure of your everyday obligations lifting from your shoulders with every groan that falls from his lips, every slap of wet skin that fills the walls of your office, every whimper of his name and every growl of yours as he makes you forget that you ever needed to be in charge of anything. zhongli is in control now, pressing his lips to the inside of your ankle while those burning amber eyes stay trained on you. 

you trust him, beyond pleased to finally see this side of him. you had always suspected there was a latent dominant in him, but for him to finally take charge like this - of the situation, of you, of your body - you give it all over to him freely. and you’re rewarded deeply. so relaxed your tits are bouncing, your eyes fluttering and crossing as you feel another orgasm building deep within your core.

zhongli leans forward, holding your legs fast against his chest with one arm while anchoring himself with the other. the pad of his thumb is rubbing your clit, his lips are parted, eyes hooded, his moans mixing with yours as he fucks you so thoroughly and you cry out, “ohh…hnn…ZHONGLI~”, thighs trembling, cumming so hard you spray a little against his taut, sweaty belly, still flexing as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

“oh fuck, so beautiful…” he pants, eyes drawn to the space where your bodies meet, beads of your spend trickling down his abs. your cream coats the base of his cock, glistening in his dark brown patch of hair. he quickly lowers your legs, letting you wrap them around his waist, needing to feel him close as he ruts out the last of himself into you. 

you’re still mindlessly whispering his name against his cheek as his grunts turn into quiet whimpers and his moans become gasps. “nnfuck…get ready to take my cum, little one.” 

you’re fucked out beyond bliss but you manage to breathe out a “yesss…please give me your cum, mister zhongli. need you to fill me up with your hot seed…please, please, please~”

your words send him over the edge, hips plunging hard against you before stilling as his cock throbs inside you to spill the hot, sticky contents of his balls into your readied, welcoming cervix. his thrusts slow and jerk as he fills you completely. 

“want you to take all of me,” he confesses against your cheek, eyes closed and brow furrowed. his hips jerk against you, the last of his sperm spilling from his slit. “want you to have it all. you deserve it.” 

— BONUS ENDING (because i'm a dork and i love zhongli’s quirky sense of humor):

when he’s ready, zhongli pulls his wet, softening cock out and watches with deep satisfaction as his semen leaks from your still-clenching hole to form a thick, creamy puddle on your officially disheveled documents. he laughs under his breath. “looks like this one has my signature now as well.”

zhongli m.list

— please consider reblogging if you're 18+ and enjoyed this. i worked really hard on it. <3

[dj-wayback]

sep did u ever consider that you wouldn't be throwing yourself against the wall if u just genuinely and honestly asked him what HE wants, instead of assuming or figuring it out through trial and error.

like i feel we can cut the middle man out here if you just communicate to him. surely your resources mentioned communication being the basis of all relationships

although. it's possible that he has problems with communication too. which would make things 100x times harder. but having at least one party be open and honest is better than none.

Can I ask what sort of arduous mental journey you had to go on to reach such an out-there conclusion? No Way Back has issues regarding communication—oh, what a concept. Excuse my tone, I am just so astonished by your discovery, you understand. Where could you possibly have gotten the idea?

Perhaps…well, I hope you excuse me once more, for these are my own personal musings…perhaps from all these quite subtle times he had been made uncomfortable, or made to feel uneasy, upset, hurt—I could go on—and how he had refused to voice any of his concerns regarding any issues he might have, even when pressed? How skittish and sometimes volatile he gets, when the conversation topic shifts to him and what his feelings are on any given sensitive subject? I’m sure you’ve noticed. Of course, I could also tell you the precise amount of times he has spoken the phrase “it doesn’t matter”, but, once again, I am certain that such an astute individual of your caliber is already aware of the number.

Next point. Let us assume that I have actually talked to No Way Back in the span of this cycle, and that I very directly stated the issue at hand, and quite genuinely, quite honestly asked him what he wants. Wanted, really, but let’s follow your formula. Naturally, this is a hypothetical, as I had failed to notice any of his aforementioned behaviors and failed to form any conclusions of my own, let alone that I should just confront him about his avoidant attitude and present him with the question of what he truly desires. Where was I? Oh, yes. Let us imagine that I unambiguously asked him what he wants. Now, imagine a theoretical answer to that question: “I don’t know”.

How can he not know, you ask? I do not fully comprehend it either. A mind like yours, perchance, is capable of figuring out the root cause of this seemingly unsolvable conundrum. Certainly not mine. In this scenario, I have failed to take note of anything substantial, as I suppose I am just that uncaring of what happens around me and of how my actions and words may impact someone. More than that, I probably did not even ask the question all that genuinely. Or honestly. It is very likely that I had some hidden, cruel motive underneath it all, and did not even care about whichever answer he would’ve offered me.

But even considering all of that—this is purely hypothetical. Beyond that, I did not actually ask him anything. As per the kind of being I am. Naturally.

All of this to say, I am always appreciative of listening to and learning from those more enlightened than me. My sincerest thanks go out to you. After all, without your valuable input, I never would’ve had this incredibly productive moment of reflection. It’s all become so painfully clear to me—what I should’ve done, what I should do next…the paths laid out in front of me, beckoning, escorting me to an answer I never would’ve thought of otherwise…