#my first time drawing a cat turned way better than i thought

[art-from-within]

Kitty love

[dawdlecentric]

Man, this doujin isn't fucking around

Meanwhile, Seikuri in the background...

Doujin: Flashbackers by Totobe

[sleepyangelkami]

You having a secret crush on ellie and you keep it to yourself but she finds your diary one day and she can't help herself so she reads it when you go to the bathroom

DEAR DIARY e.williams

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 3.4K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - you and ellie have been best friends for as long as you can both remember. she was the artist, you were the writer. you both respected one anothers hidden sketchbook and diary. until one day you're taking much too long in the shower and it's just... sitting there! ellie can't help herself and she finds out a little secret.

 ☆ WARNINGS - snooping? tinsey bit of angst if you can even call it that, touch starved reader, sort of loser!ellie a little, lil crying, petnames, use of y/n like once, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

for as long as you could remember, ellie had been your number one. she was your best friend in the entire world, you told her everything and she told you the same in return. okay maybe not... everything. there was one thing you'd been having an awful hard time keeping to yourself. though, you were sure it was much better in than out.

you and ellie were like an orange and black cat, you were fire and ice, the sun and moon, a writer and an artist.

ellie drew a lot. you'd seen multiple of her drawings before. you remembered the first time she'd doodled a frog onto your arm during a boring lecture from tommy and maria. she gave you a confused look to your state of shock. but you were merely surprised. sure, you knew she could draw. but you didn't know she was that good.

you were the writer. ellie was well aware of this. whether you had your laptop propped up on your knees, writing away or a pen in hand scrawling letters around the little pages. ellie always thought your handwritting was nice. it was much better than her fat chunky lettering that everyone always seemed to have trouble reading. she'd always watch the way your pen would dance across the page, so easily and smoothly. she was almost jealous.

you'd both grown to understand the boundaries of her drawings and your writing.

two things were off limits. one, was her big black bulky sketchbook that she often brought around to your house or sat under her arm. two, as your pink journal. she'd seen it once, questioning you what book was falling out from your locker drawer. you were honest with her. you told her it was your diary, the book you cherished the most, the book she could never read.

at first, ellie was a little taken aback.

sure, she knew everyone had their own secrets but it was you. you told ellie everything, or so she thought.

"oh, thank god." she spoke, pushing her jacket off as she walked into your house, right through the front door. the snow from outside decorated the crown of her head and the tip of her nose. "i was looking everywhere for that." discarding her wet boots at the door. "thought i lost it."

"nope." you chimed from your place at your kitchen counter. your stools had been the very ones joel had built for you. well, not for you. he really built them for anyone but when no takers raised their hand, you sort of felt like you had to. ellie laughed at you, stating nobody would want to sit at your kitchen counter ever again. "right here."

ellie soon made her way across the kitchen, taking the sketchbook from your hands softly. "you didn't... look at anything, did you?"

you shook your head from side to side. "'course not, els." that beloved nickname that had her cheeks turning pink. "'s the same way i wouldn't want you reading my diary. i wouldn't look at your sketchbook like that." god only knew what ellie williams was drawing on the cream coloured paper.

she breathed a sigh of relief, believing you. "okay, thank you." though she still had a gnawing feeling at the bottom of her stomach. what if you did? i mean, you wouldn't do that much less lie to her afterwards. but what if. once the thought entered her head, she had a hard time getting it to leave again.

"wanna watch a movie?" you questioned, placing your chin on your hands that had been propped up by the elbows onto your kitchen counter.

ellie sat herself on one of the white stools, not the wooden ones joel had made. "whatcha have in mind, sweetheart?" it wasn't often that ellie came over for less than a day. i mean, you two were practically attached together by the hip. if ellie was at your house, and even just for something as small as to collect the sketchbook, she was more often than not staying over.

you hummed, your lips pressed together. try as you must but you never were able to play off the stammering and flustered appearance as she called you those pretty names. but that was sort of the whole point, she liked the way your cheeks heated up. "something christmassy." you spoke. "like the muppets or something."

the girl merely raised a scarred brow at you. "it's november."

you huffed out a sigh, rolling your eyes. "'s never to early for christmas, els."

that was enough for ellie, she supposed. after this short interaction in the kitchen, you both ended up sat atop your living room couch, you fishing around with the remote. thankfully, she'd agreed on the muppets christmas carol, and you were not about to give up the oppertunity to watch your favourite movie with your favourite person.

a hand came down to your side, gently rubbing up and down gently. suddenly, the buttons on the controller seemed hazy and you blinked not once, not twice but three times, a breath falling from your lips. her fingers were so long and pretty, gently soothing the bare skin from underneath your shirt, barely hitting against your stomach. it wasn't much but for a touch starved girl alike you, it was enough to have your stomach in knots, your mind blurring into one big watercolour.

ellie seemed to have taken notice to the way your entire demeanour changed, her brows barely moving. "something wrong, baby?" you couldn't tell if she were being serious or not. perhaps it was because everything seemed hazy but truly, you couldn't distinguish whether or not she was trying to fool around with you or if her words had really been spoken with such innocence.

did she know what she was doing to you?

you cleared your throat, bee stung lips rolling. "lets jus' watch the movie, els." pressing what you assumed was the start button and watching as the screen lit up. avoiding the question completely.

you'd missed the way her lips curved up into a smirk.

of course, ellie williams was well aware of the effect she had on you.

you see, you'd been hiding this 'crush' on your best friend for quite a long time now. but it was times like this that you swore she knew, she had to. of course, she had to be aware of the way you stumbled upon your words around her or the way your face seemed on fire when she used those pretty nicknames on you. that was the thing, she called you the names, nobody else, not even those fuckbuddies of hers.

it begged the question, where did you stand to her?

you'd been best friends for so long now, you were sure she merely called you these things and seemed so impossibly close because she was comfortable with you. otherwise, there'd somehow be a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why she treated you so differently. though, the bigger part of you, the one consumed by romance novels and love letters, the one that consumed romantic films as if it were food, that part of you wanted to believe it was because you were different. well, not you necessarily. you didn't want to be different to all the girls she fucked, well, you didn't really care. you just wanted ellie's feelings for you to be different.

you didn't want ellie to look at you like you were one of those girls that'd spend the night then leave by morning without so much as a breakfast or goodbye.

you wanted her to look at you like you were worth a million stars. the way you looked at her.

you'd been enamoured by her since the day you'd met her and it appeared as though it were obvious to just about everyone other than her. your best friends dina and jesse had instantly picked up on it when you were kids. it was a wonder to both you and them how ellie still hadn't found out.

but even when dina and jesse brought it up, whether there was a teasing tone etched to their words or perhaps they were asking a serious question, you did exactly what ellie told you to do in every other situation. deny, deny, deny. probably the only time you ever took on ellie's advice.

the one person or thing, i should say, that actually knows about this little 'crush' on the auburn haired girl was the little pink notebook tucked away in the side drawer of your room, right next to your desk.

seeing as it was merely ink to a page, you didn't have to hide. you didn't have to become flustered the way you did when talking to ellie and you didn't have to lie the way you did to dina and jesse. you could simply breathe again.

it was the thing you admired most about this little book, the freedom.

you could say anything you wanted about anyone you wanted and nobody would ever know. it'd never leave the little pink book. besides, the only person that knew about your diary was ellie and you trusted her enough not to look through it. the same way you'd never pick up ellie's sketchbook and look through it.

not only because she asked but because you too know what it's like to have something of yours worth so much value. not in money, of course, but in a sense that it truly was yours and nobody elses.

"yes i could." you bit back to the auburn haired girl that sat atop your bed. the movie had ended hours ago, you'd even thrown on another one. this time, ellie got to choose and as always, she chose a horror. you hated horror movies and yet every single time, without fail, ellie was throwing one on.

"no you couldn't." she rolled her eyes. the current debate was whether or not you would be able to survive the scream movies. you were sure that you would, without a doubt but ellie wasn't so sure. "you can barely sit through a horror movie let alone be in one."

"they're just not interesting." you all but pouted, your stomach leaning against the bed as you looked up at her, tight lipped smile on your lips. "they always have the same plot and they're so... gory." it wasn't that you were scared of them necessarily. don't get me wrong, sometimes you're halfway behind ellie, screaming in her shoulder at what you're watching but even then, you still wouldn't choose to watch horror movies even without all the jump scares.

"yeah, yeah." she rolled her eyes again, she seemingly always did that when you were around. "just say you're a pussy."

you narrowed your eyes at her. "am not."

"annabell." the one word sent shivers down your spine.

"that's different." you defended. you hated the movie more than anything else in the entire world, probably even more than you hated ellie's silly jokes (you loved them really).

she cocked a brow. "how so?"

"because!" you exclaimed, flopping onto your back. "that's a scary doll that'll break into my house while i'm sleeping and―i don't know find some really creepy way to kill me. but ghostface?" you huffed out a giggle. "I could take him on."

this time, ellie tilted her head, a smirk on her lips. "really?" as if she didn't believe you at all.

you frowned at that, did she not think you were strong? you liked to believe you were strong, strong enough to take on ghostface? perhaps not. "i could take you on." you scoffed, looking at her arms.

although you wish you hadn't. the way they flexed under her shirt was enough to have your stomach rolling. her arms were the very thing that had you squirming, they were so defined and toned, along with her stomach, showing you what true muscle she had. your head felt nauseous merely looking at her.

she was getting closer to you, watching as you observed her, eyes never leaving her body. "that so?" teasing voice.

but you didn't respond with words, a mere "mhm." falling from your lips though it sort of sounded like a mix between a hum and a whine, you were failing so horribly at keeping your little secret inside.

"show me then."

you'd done this with ellie before, giggles falling from the bedroom door as you attempted to pin ellie down but right now felt so different. the air was off and the tension was rising.

at first, you tried to play it off. you playfully grabbed at her wrist, trying to push her onto the bed. usually, she'd let you win. she loved to see that victorious smirk on your face after she let you beat her. in the back of your head you'd know, though. you could never beat ellie.

but this time, she didn't let you win.

this time, she flipped your wrists and then you completely. your eyes widened when you realised how strong she was. you always knew she was strong, don't get me wrong but never had you been pinned down by her with such force behind her hands. you felt your face heat up and your stomach swirl as the girl landed above you, her head looking down at you with a smirk playing on her lips.

this time, she won.

"whatever." with a little shove, you manged to push her off. she let you, grinning as she sat back on the bed, pride swelling in her chest as she watched you flusteredly try to hide your face. "i have to go shower."

"good." she joked, watching you get up from the bed. "you fucking stink." she watched you grin and stick your tongue out at her, she did the very same in response, watching you enter your bathroom with clothes that had been sitting on your chair now in your hands.

and then, she was alone.

you'd done this the other day, about a week ago and everything changed. it was the day that ellie did the very thing she swore she'd never do and yet she did it anyway.

she just couldn't help herself.

when you were in the bathroom, showering, she'd reached over to the nightstand to look at the photograph you had on it, you and her, icecream on her nose and smeared on your cheek. a week ago, she'd grinned at it, thinking it was the most heartwarming thing she'd seen in months. then, her eyes had glanced to the little pink book that lay beneath it.

a month ago, she'd swear she'd never go near the thing, ever.

a week ago, she opened it and her eyes scanned the page.

she hadn't had any bad intentions, not really. she was just curious as to what you wrote about, what you were keeping so hidden from your dear, beloved best friend. and when she started, she couldn't stop. she soon realised that the lovely words scrawled across the page weren't about how the sunlight peeked through the clouds or how the rain fell into the puddles collected on the ground. the words were about her.

soon enough, she'd made herself believe that if the words were about her, surely, she should be allowed to read it, it was only right.

she waited until the batrhoom door closed before she reached over to the side of the bed. she knew it was wrong, so wrong, it was an invasion of privacy and she knew you'd probably burst into tears if you'd seen it. but you know what they say, curiosity kills the cat.

she placed the book on the bed, attempting to pick up where she left off.

i just can't help but like her!! what does any of this meannnn??? you don't touch someone like that as a friend, you don't call your 'friends' names like that, it's not normal!! i'm reading into this. i always fucking do this, i read into it and then bam! that's it! i'm gonna loose her to this stupid crush. it's not a crush, i think i'm in love with her. no, i can't be. it's a silly crush and it'll be gone in a day. EVEN THOUGH IT'S BEEN YEARS!! i hate myself and the only option is to throw myself off of a fucking cli―

"els, i think i left my―" she'd never shut something so fast in her entire life. ellie's wide eyes shot up, looking at you standing in the front of the bathroom doorway. "w-what are you doing?" you'd barely registered what'd happened, your eyes already burning.

"shit." there really was no way of defending herself. you'd caught her red handed with the book sitting on the bed. "darling, i didn't―"

"you read it." you deadpanned, feeling the tears begin to well up in your eyes. "you read it, you promised me you wouldn't read it!"

but ellie was already standing from the bed, discarding the book completely. "i know, angel, i know, i'm sorry i jus―"

she was attempting to race to the other side of the room, get to you and presumably comfort you. she couldn't stand the tears in your eyes. "do you know?" that you've been helplessly in love with her the past four years and running? her silence gave a response but not one that you were particularly happy with. "do you know?"

her voice was a meak whisper. "yeah, baby, i know."

humiliation, embarrassment, shame,

all you could feel.

you'd been helplessly and hopelessly in love with ellie for as long as time yet never have you truly worried about it getting back to her. dina knew but she'd never squeal, neither would jesse if he knew what was good for him.

that little pink book didn't just know briefly of this 'fleeting crush' it knew everything, every minor detail. ellie consumed the pages, every pen stroke had her name on it. you were sure that the book knew more about this crush than you could ever grasp.

"hey, hey, don't cry." she was up in your face, hands attempting to hold your face, soothing you gently. "hey, i'm sorry, i'm sorry." she kept repeating everything but nothing could stop the way your lip wobbled and your eyes filled to the brim, the dam breaking as a fat tear rolled down your cheek. "okay, just―"

ellie was panicking. she knew how you could get, once you started crying it was damn near impossible to get you to stop. the way your lip trembled served as a constant reminder that she had been the one to put you in this situation, she had made you cry.

before you could even thin, there was a big black book being shoved in your hands. you didn't think to look down, mind to foggy and far away but ellie was already opening it up for you. "angel, look, see?" finally, you pulled your eyes away from the little pink book on your bed, eyes trailing down to the sketchbook. ellie briefly flickered through the pages, your brows pinched together. were they... drawings of you? "i do it too, see?" had anyone ever put their heart on the line merely to get you to stop crying? no. then again, nobody else had ever been quite like ellie williams.

you sniffled, glancing at one of the pictures. it looked so real, as if you were looking at yourself right now, eyes shut and lips sort of smashed against the pillow. "am i sleeping?" you sniffled, mouth sort of dry.

ellie found herself a dark crimson. "well―yeah." she only now realised what she'd done. she just wanted you to stop crying, she didn't think of what she was doing to herself, outing herself like that. then again, it was only right as she'd outed you before.

you swallowed thickly, wiping the tears away with your sleeve. "'s really stalkerish, els." you mumbled and she couldn't help but grin at you.

"i'm really sorry." her voice low enough to have you glancing up at her, straining your ears. "i shouldn't have read it."

you nodded your head. "you shouldn't have." but you couldn't help but feel a little weight lift off your chest. she knew now, at least you'd no longer have to hide it.

once again it left you wondering where you stood.

ellie could see the way your eyes went sort of foggy, blocking her out. she wondered what you were thinking now. "y/n?"

finally, you pulled your eyes away from the ground, looking at her perfect green eyes.

"i love you too."

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

[batneko]

okay, time to actually type up my thoughts on this AU! With some new art to make it worth it.

for context, here's part one and part two.

so the basics are, Bowser is continually trying to conquer the city and being fought off by the bros, who do have superpowers (I thought about drawing lightning around Luigi's fist but I don't know how to make that look good in lineart) and costumes and "hero names," but don't hide their faces so they don't exactly have secret identities. It's more like being an actor with a stage name. Since they're fairly average-looking dudes they don't get recognized all the time, especially when they're apart, but Mario definitely does more often than Luigi.

But even when they're not recognized by the starbucks barista, people expect a lot of them. Not just stopping Bowser, but stopping everyday problems, rescuing cats from trees or standing in for a broken TV antenna. Eventually the pressure gets to Mario and he decides to fake his death and make a run for it. He's not really thinking clearly at the time and he regrets it almost immediately, but he can't bring himself to go back and face everyone's disappointment. He needs to figure himself out first.

He does at least contact Luigi as soon as he's out of the city to reassure him he's not dead. He doesn't tell him where he's going though, and Luigi can't contact him back, he has to wait for Mario to call, so Luigi does genuinely miss him and can fake grief when he needs to without too much prompting.

Bowser, meanwhile, was genuinely not expecting to "kill" his greatest rival. He never really wanted Mario dead, he just wanted the city! But he's not going to let this opportunity pass him by- Or so he thinks, until he's beaten into a pulp by the other hero that he usually forgot about.

Okay, fine, Bowser can still work with this. Heal up, regroup, give it another try- Aaaand this time he's ganged up on by three heroes he's never even seen before. What the heck is happening?

Turns out that without Mario's charismatic leader act keeping everyone reassured (and complacent), a bunch of people are stepping into the gap. Luigi, Peach, Daisy, probably more than one Toad or Yoshi... Bowser can't plan for this! They all have different powers, different strategies, different types of banter. He's overwhelmed.

So Bowser gets the idea that he needs just one hero to fight. Maybe with a sidekick, but still. That way he can time his cool speeches and minimize the amount he gets punched in the face. He already killed one of them, maybe if he works his way through the others one at a time he'll finally win. Eventually. Someday.

He gets the super crown disguise watch (I still haven't decided if there's a real guy whose appearance and name he is copying) and finds his first hero. Mario's sidekick. Should be the easiest one to fight, right? Bowser just needs to convince him that it's better for everyone if the city only has one hero at a time. It's about continuity. It'll reassure them. Give them a symbol.

Unfortunately for Bowser (and fortunately for us) Luigi is way too nice a guy to chase off some random bear person just for recognizing him and having Opinions about all this hero stuff. Luigi talks to him, addresses his concerns, answers his questions, and the guy is actually surprisingly willing to listen. Most people who try to tell him how to do his job don't care about facts and logic!

Next thing Bowser knows, he's been invited for coffee next week. That's... fine, right? This is progress! It's not a date, it's just getting close to his target! And it's definitely not a problem that Luigi is really cute and sweet and patient and has big blue eyes and a nice smile and the warmth of his handshake lingered for the rest of the afternoon...

Everything is totally fine! 👍

[arcanesea]

colors

PAIRING: hwang hyunjin x reader GENRE: fluff, established relationship WC: 558 WARNINGS: none

"There are only 3 primary colors, right?" you ask mindlessly as you watch Hyunjin's brush glide across the canvas. You heard a low hum from him before asking, "Who named the colors?"

he rolls his eyes, and a thin smile creeps on his face.

"What's on your mind pretty?" he asks softly, still focusing on the canvas in front of him. You had agreed to be his muse today. Though a very basic muse, you must say. He doesn't even let you hold any props, so you just sit there with a flower slipped in your ear.

"Well, orange comes from mixing red and yellow, so why not call it yed?" you propose.

Hyunjin stops to look at you with his confused face. "Yed?"

"Yes? well, you mix yellow and red? Yed? Or should it be redow?"

"You're absurd," he laughs, continuing his sweep of brush. You're cute, was what he was actually thinking. Since you sat on that chair, you hadn't stopped talking about everything, from the workplace stress you're currently experiencing, to stories of stray cats in your apartment complex. Your voice was a better substitute for the music he put on every time he started painting.

"Green should be called yellue," you push forward. Laughing when the words repeated itself in your head. "Isn't that cute, Hyune, yellue?" you ask.

"Sure, my love," he answered. "Tell me everything on that pretty head of yours."

"I think, you don't need me to sit here," you said softly. Hyunjin laughs again. If he's being honest, it's his first time drawing the muse directly. He could have snapped a picture of you and used it as a reference, that's what he always does. But who he is to say no when you're the one offering to be his muse for a day?

"Weren't you the one offering yourself?" He asks, not paying much attention to you who had started to stand. You stopped in your tracks, thinking to yourself.

"Right..." you shyly said. You walked behind him, leaning down to rest your chin on his left shoulder. You are the muse, but you're certain that the scene doesn't look anything like his painting. Not in a bad way, just in a very hyperbole way that the background colors seem to be muted while he gives you the spotlight with all the vibrant colors.

Hyunjin turned his head, pressing a kiss on your cheek. "What do you think?"

"I don't think there's any word that can describe the elegance of that painting, Hyune," you answered. "I think you're a great artist, I'm pretty sure I'm not as beautiful as the person in the canvas."

Hyunjin puts down his palette on the little table next to the canvas before standing up. He grabs your shoulder, just looking at you. No matter how many times he memorized your features, he can't stop admiring your angelic nature.

It's true that an artist's eyes see colors in a spectrum that's never existed before, but you're different. Hyunjin had always thought that he already saw all the colors of life, but your existence in his life gives him a taste of a new kind of rainbow. And he wished for nothing more than you to see yourself from his point of view.

"Believe me, my love, no colors can do justice to paint you."

a/n. Ramadhan Kareem everyone! We're well fed this month by the amount of skz record the kids released and some said we're getting cb announcement at fanmeeting😃 can't wait!!!!!!

[phoenix-bleh]

heyyyy i saw your headcanons for shadow milk and rly enjoyed it and i was wondering if you could do yandere of him??? if not you can ignore this:>

YAN! Shadow Milk Cookie

If you aren't a fan of yandere subjects I don't recommend reading this

Warnings: yandere themes, attempt kidnapping, obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, etc.

Before he became evil his relationship with you was nice and peaceful. You guys enjoyed each other's company.

When he does start realizing his true potential and how much power he really has he starts slowly becoming corrupt and that has an effect on him with you.

You’ll notice he’s more possessive and way more clingy with you always grabbing you and taking you with him everywhere.

If he’s not walking right by your side he is most likely stalking you from behind. If you do catch him he’ll play off saying he was just walking and didn’t notice you were in front of him and you shouldn't assume things. (first red flag)

Like in my previous headcanon he is a jealous type, but when he’s a yandere good luck on trying to spend time with anyone other than him. Manipulates you into believing that your friends are no good for you and he’s just trying to look out for you. 

You’re just a weak lil cookie who needs someone like himself to protect you, you don’t know any better <3

Might break into your house at night and watch you sleep and quietly dotes on you saying stuff like how cute you are, how’d you guys be perfect together, and softly moves your hair out of your face.

Before he leaves he tucks you in and kisses your forehead and leaves making sure everything is back in place so it seems as if he was never there to begin with.

You wake up with the weird feeling you weren't alone last night but that can’t be true so you shrug it off.

When all of earthbread turns into complete chaos he makes an attempt to kidnap you, obviously you being aware of what is happening you ran. You couldn’t believe what was happening, this couldn’t be right, that wasn’t the Shadow Milk Cookie at least not the one you used to love and know.

During this chase he sees this as a game, like a game of mouse and cats. While you were running you could hear his distant laugh taunting you. "Where are you~ You know I’ll catch you eventually. Then you’ll be all MINE!” 

You slow down your running and try to catch your breath and hide. You couldn’t hear him anymore and you thought you were safe and he gave up trying to catch you. Oh boy were you wrong.

You feel something wrap around you. You look down and see bright glowing strings around and before you can properly react you quickly get dragged by them. 

You then feel arms wrap around you from behind. That's when you truly start panicking “hehehe HAHAHA FOUND YOU~!!”

When he gets trapped in the Silver Tree by the witches he is pissed. He’s yelling, cursing and tries to make an attempt to pull the bars apart. He’s reaching out for and begging for you not to leave him. “nononoNONONO! DON’T LEAVE ME!!”

After that earthbread was restored and had new holders for the soul jams. You're free and don’t have to worry about Shadow Milk Cookie again.

Right?.........

----Bonus----

Definitely has a secret shrine of you. There’s pictures of you and small things he stole from you and it’s all surrounded by crafts he made of you.

Has a plushie of you and him. When he’s alone he makes them kiss and makes up scenarios of you guys together.

You're literally so perfect to him anything you do like something as simple as giving him some treats you made. He’s swooning all over you saying how much he loves you. 

here you get a drawing enjoy~

[bishopsbeloved]

bad idea!

kate bishop x fem reader

No matter how much of a bad idea it may seem to go back to Kate Bishop, you can’t help it. You’re like a moth to a flame

inspired by a girl in red song, mentions of sex but no actual smut, fwb/ex gf kate, dumb lesbians, kind of just a drabble icl, 1.1k words

NOTE: my requests are open!!!!! send me anything you’d like!!!!!! i can’t guarantee i’ll get it done but you’re welcome to send things in🫶

It was such a bad idea to get involved with Kate Bishop again.

It’s so stupid that this even happened. Every fucking time things end between you you’re resolute in your position, you’re determined that this will truly be the end, but Kate Bishop has this way of drawing people back in. You’ve fallen victim to her strange unspeakable allure more times than you can count. That’s how you ended up here in the first place.

Yes, okay, fine, she’s good at sex. When she sends a you up? text you can’t help the way your heart beats a little faster at the thought of the chase resuming between the two of you, of cat and mouse returning to flirtatious antics with one inevitable end. No matter how many times you try to escape it, you and Kate Bishop always seem to find your way back to one another, only to sourly part again and leave you even more lost than you were before. You don’t know what to do. You can’t fucking stand her. You can’t get away from her. You’re not sure you want to.

Nobody else has ever touched you in the way she does, or as well as she can. No matter how much you pretend otherwise she is the one you crave; she’s the one on your mind whilst the hands of others roam your body. You have this deep, innate, carnal need for her — for everything about her — not just her fingers and her tongue and her strap but also her whiny raspy voice first thing in the morning (she, annoyingly adorably, hates mornings) and the sloppy neck kisses she delivers to say goodnight and the kind of sheepish shifty look whenever she brings you a token of her love. The latter doesn’t happen much anymore, not since the two of you broke up — since she dumped you — which on paper ought to mean the two of you no longer see each other. And yet more nights than not one of you has crawled back to and somehow ended up in the other’s bed. It seems you’re both full of bad ideas, and yet neither of you can get enough.

When you wake up in her room again, the purple wallpaper adorned with medals and trophies and Hawkeye posters all too familiar by this point, that feeling of heaviness settles in your stomach. For fuck’s sake. You’re always disappointed in yourself, the morning after. There’s a reason the two of you aren’t together anymore — so why do you keep waking up in each other’s beds?

You look down at where Kate Bishop is nestled against your chest, still bare-skinned against you after last night’s activities. It’s irritating how beautiful she is even when she’s asleep. She looks so lovely in your arms you can almost imagine that being your reality again, until you harshly remind yourself Kate doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want you like that, she broke up with you and the only reason she sees you anymore is for sex. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, it makes your stomach turn, and suddenly you want nothing more than to be away from her.

Crawling out of Kate’s bed when she’s wrapped herself around you like this is never easy. Perhaps in unconsciousness, in her most vulnerable state, she’s more reluctant to let you go. Sometimes you feel a little guilty leaving before she wakes so often, but you have to, for your own good — for the good of both of you. When you’re not fucking you don’t really know what to say to her. Hey, you were the love of my life, why’d you dump my ass? No thanks. She has these big blue puppy-dog eyes that just make you feel horrible about the whole thing, and everything you’ve ever done, ever. No, you’re better off leaving now.

“You’re leaving,” says a small, scratchy voice from behind you, as you stumble about in the half-dark of the room locating your clothing. It’s a statement, not a question, but she still doesn’t sound entirely certain.

You don’t really know how to respond, you’re kind of wishing this wasn’t happening and rushing to find your other sock so you can get out of here, so you just let out a kind of low grunt of acknowledgement.

“You always leave,” Kate responds, and you don’t have to turn around to know that she’s pouting a little. You can hear it in her voice. The fact you can tell, that you know her well enough to tell only pisses you off even further, and you let out a kind of bitter laugh.

“It’s not like you fucking want me here.”

“That’s not true.” She pauses, and you hear the little noises she makes as she sits up and stretches. “I do want you here. I keep bringing you back, don’t I?”

“Yeah, cause a good fuck is all I’m worth to you,” you say angrily, before closing your eyes and tilting your head back. No. You can’t let her ass ruin your day when you have so much shit to do.

“No, that’s not true,” she tries, whilst at the same time you groan “I can’t do this, Kate.”

She sits up a little straighter, eyes wide, voice an octave higher. “W— what? Can’t do what?”

“I can’t do you.”

“But I— you keep— you keep coming back, though.”

This hits a nerve, and you laugh incredulously, finally turning around to face her. She’s looking up at you in the semi-darkness of the room, her face unreadable. “Yeah, and I shouldn’t. It’s fucking pathetic. I can’t get over my ex so I’ll sleep with her whenever she asks. It’s not— it’s— Kate, I can’t keep doing this.” You bury your head in your hands.

Vaguely, you hear the gentle rustle of fabric in Kate’s side of the room. You just need a moment to collect yourself and you’ll get the fuck out of here.

You hear her footsteps padding towards you, and you open your eyes again. She’s haphazardly tugged on a shirt and is stood before you, bare-legged, almost doleful in expression. “I’m sorry,” she says, barely a whisper. “This is all— I keep fucking up. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know what you want from me,” you say tiredly.

“I— I don’t know. Everything. You.” She steps towards you uncertainly.

“Kate,” you say, and you’re not sure who moved first, but within moments her lips are on yours again. When she tugs you back towards the bed, you let her, your stomach churning with the indescribable sensation of simultaneous adoration and angst that her touch fills you with. She’s so pretty it actually physically hurts.

God, you’re totally fucked.

[midgardian-witch]

Hi there. Could you do the prompt “Because I don’t want to do anything I’d end up regretting because I couldn’t control myself…” w/ Jake Lockley?

Oooh that prompt is just so good for Jake 😏 So yes absolutely. I got you, anon 👍

Where To?

tags: friends to lovers | sexual tension | Jake is a little shit | slight teasing | gn!reader

ships: Jake Lockley/Reader

AO3

Edit: added AO3 link

“Because I don’t want to do anything I’d end up regretting because I couldn’t control myself…”

"Alright, you bastard. We gotta talk."

You don't give him any time to react as you slide into the passenger seat of his cab. Jake just looks at you with his trademark grin and a raised eyebrow.

"Couldn't stay away, could you?"

You have the urge to slap his stupid, handsome face. Instead you groan at his antics.

"Oh, you wish! You've been avoiding me for weeks now. And I want an explanation, Lockley!"

He seems nonplussed by the righteous anger burning inside of you. As if on autopilot he starts the car and turns towards the road.

"Where to?"

He's not really asking you that, is he? How dare he treat you like just another customer after ignoring you for fucking weeks.

"You fucking asshole. I don't want you to drive me anywhere, I want to talk!"

You push his shoulder without much energy behind it. When he doesn't react you sigh, all your anger and frustration turning to desperation.

"Come on! We've known each other for so long. Don't I deserve an explanation at least?"

You can't look at him, instead you turn your gaze towards your hands which have found their rest in your lap.

There is only the sound of the car engine for a long time. You're about to get out of the cab again when you hear his voice again.

"I'm sorry."

Your hand hovers over the car door, too afraid to make any more movements lest he stop talking.

"If you’re so sorry, then why did you try to avoid me so much?"

“Because I don’t want to do anything I’d end up regretting because I couldn’t control myself…”

With furrowed eyebrows you turn back to him. He looks at you with such heat in his eyes you feel like you're going to melt under his gaze.

He places his hand on your knee and even through his gloves and the fabric of your clothes you can feel the warmth radiating off of him. You gasp at the contact.

Jake leans over to you, his face so close to yours now that you swear you can feel his breath against your skin.

"I can't just be around you like this. This friendly flirting thing we have going on? Yeah, that doesn't cut it anymore."

His gloved hand slowly travels further up your thigh and you feel desire spark in your abdomen.

"Not when all I can think about is how much I want to bend you over the hood of my car and fuck you until you can't walk anymore."

Your breath hitches and you can feel your face heating up. It's not like you weren't attracted to Jake for a long time. You just didn't think he liked you that way too; you had already made peace with that. Until now.

His eyes turn dark as he watches your reactions. With a pleased hum his thumb draws lazy circles into the inside of your thigh.

"I thought you didn't want that, so I stepped away. Maybe I was wrong about that."

He grins at you, like the cat that got the canary. Jake leans forward even further, your lips just barely touching, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest.

"Tell me you want this. Just one word and I am yours."

"Yes", you murmur into his lips before you kiss him. It's heedy, mind-melting and way too short.

He breaks away from you and you're embarrassed by the whine that escapes you at the loss.

Jake's grin just spreads wider, just a hint of teeth showing.

"As much as I want to fuck you in my cab, you deserve better than that for our first time."

First time. Which means he planned on there being multiple times. Good, because you already know once would not be enough after years of sexual tension.

He turns back to the road and licks his lips.

"Where to, mi vida? My place or yours?"

[unnamed-blob]

One way, or another, I'm gonna get ya

⇢ Pairing: Ghostface/Meg Thomas

⇢ Length: Multi-chapter

⇢ Synopsis: Left the only remaining survivor, Meg's best bet is to find the hatch before the killer does. Ghostface might have more in mind than just that though...

⇢ CW: SUGGESTIVE!! I am still very much a sfw blog but this is most certainly the most suggestive thing I have posted.

⇢ A/N: Inspired by slash's very wonderful GhostMeg artwork! Thank you very much for reviving my favorite ship!!

Meg bolted upwards, stray sparks nipping at her fingers as she hastily released the wires in the generator, waiting with baited breath. Above the mechanic chuffing, she could hear Dwight’s panicked scream cutting out, deathly silence darting into the space behind, pressing against her chest and making it hard to breathe. 

Her fingers twitched, eyes scanning the area around before the death tomb rang out, startling Meg enough for a flinch. She watched the Entity’s long grasp come down, reaching across the map to retrieve his body. Meg allowed herself a moment for her heart to bleed for her friend, no doubt killed in terror, before swiftly turning to her left to duck behind a large rock close to the wall.

Claudette had been the first to go, collected by the Entity off of a hook; Jake not too long after, mori’d, considering that he had never reached his second hook. 

She swallowed thickly, cautiously peeking out before darting to the next closest hiding spot. With Dwight gone, Meg was the last remaining survivor. And with two generators left to complete, she had better odds to find the hatch than to attempt the typical method.

She strained her ears for any careless scuffle against the ground to warn her of the incoming killer- not that the elusive, stealthy Ghostface would ever do such a thing- before hesitantly peeking out. When no killer lunged at her face, she tiptoed out, drawing herself in, taunt like a spring, before she burst into a sprint, eyes and ears peeled for any sign of her exit. 

All she had to do was find it first- and considering she’d run the map enough times to nearly know it like the back of her hand- it shouldn’t be too hard. … Hopefully. 

⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡

Meg panted, half hunched over as she hovered between two boulders, knees bent and poised to bolt. The bastard before stood casually, stance hardly tense- a lie though, Meg knew if she tried to bolt past him, he’d be at her before she could even blink. He idly twirled his knife in his grasp, before throwing it upwards, snatching it out of the air without taking his mask off of her for a moment. Meg hunched lower, skin prickling uncomfortably from his piercing gaze.

She flinched as he crossed an arm over his chest, propping his head on his other hand and tilting it slightly, sighing dramatically.

“Listen, darling-,” Ghostface drawled. Meg tensed, jerking to the left to fake him out before she leaped to the right. Her knees buckled, giving out from under her and she bit down on a yelp, stumbling to straighten herself.

She drew up, back into the same position, the killer before her now several paces closer, hands stretched out as if he were approaching a small, terrified animal.

Perhaps he had some reason to- Meg bristled uncomfortably, half tempted to bare her teeth at him, the air tense, her fatigue chaining her in place. Both of them knew she was cornered, Meg just wasn’t one to go down without a fight.

The hatch hadn’t been in any of its typical locations, and by the time Meg had wasted precious minutes nearly upturning the entire map for it, Ghostface had managed to catch a glimpse of her, locking in with vigorous precision. 

The game of cat and mouse had gone on longer than Meg had expected. Each moment she thought she was finally free to take a breather, Ghostface would leap out at her, trying to corral her as she’d bolt off by the skin of her teeth. By now her feet and legs ached from her constant running, and several strands of her hair had drifted loose from her braids and now clung uncomfortably to her wet skin. 

Obviously the killer looked no worse for wear, as calm and cocky as always. Meg knew him a tad bit better than that though, could see the tenseness in his shoulders, the coil in his frame, the jerkiness in his movements when he’d lunge and miss. He was tired of this.

Meg shifted uncomfortably, drawing into herself, trying to gather the last dredges of her strength for one last sprint. Maybe she’d get lucky this time, maybe the Entity would finally take pity on her and allow her her freedom from the trial (wishful thinking, but a girl could hope). 

Ghostface struck at her moment of absent mindedness, lunging at Meg before her head snapped in his direction, reflexes too strained and exhausted to react. She yelped, scrambling backwards as she tripped over her own feet, slamming against the hard ground.

She gasped for air, the breath knocked out of her as stars danced in her vision, the darkness at the edges slithering and threatening to cover her vision. She forced a breath in, coughing as her lungs protested and her throat threatened to close. Another and the darkness receded, Meg finally returning to her own body as she forced strained breaths before the action became second nature. Her vision wavered, swimming in colors, before finally settling, her brain processing the view a moment later as her breath hitched.

A long, desolate white mask filled her entire vision, close enough that Meg could hear the concealed breathing behind it, his covered gaze boring straight into her face. She tried to jolt away, realizing a moment too late that her movements were halted by Ghostface, a strong hand encircling each of her wrists and keeping them pinned down. Panic thrummed in her chest and Meg spurned it into her legs, kicking up at him and trying to draw her knees up high enough to hit him in the groin. 

The killer had prepared for that though, straddling her while she’d tried to catch her breath, a firm pressure on each side of her hips keeping her contained and him high enough that Meg couldn’t reach. 

A low chuckle came from him as panic flashed in Meg's eyes, her movements jerky and exhausted, straining against his hold and scrambling at the ground in an attempt for any leverage to shove herself away. He leaned in, the redhead freezing, watching with wide eyes as the mask pressed itself against the side of her neck, flinching as an exhale of warm air expelled against her vulnerable flesh. Her body locked stiffly, a cold chill crawling up her spine despite the sheen of sweat that coated her. 

Ghostface inhaled deeply and Meg cringed, uncomfortably attempting to shift away to no avail. He followed her movements, chuckling at her exasperation and panic.

“C’mon, I just want to play with you a bit, pretty girl,” he teased, Meg able to feel his grin against her neck. She tensed as fabric rustled next to her ear, straining to glance over for his next movements, heart jackhammering in her chest. A cheek pressed against hers and Meg flinched hard enough to nearly knock her head against the ground. She froze completely, blood settling into ice as the grin pressed against her throat, no fabric covering to protect her now. 

“Wait- wait-” she scrambled, panicked, flinching once more as a kiss pressed against her exposed collar, her blood thrumming against her veins. Warm air traveled upwards to her cheek, hovering above her as Meg tilted her head as far back as she could, eyes slammed shut before a soft sensation settled onto her face. 

She flinched once more, drawing into herself as much as she could, trying to raise her shoulders to hide herself. Ghostface gave a low chuckle, easily shifting to bury his nose in her neck, lowering closer onto above her as Meg panicked. 

“Wait- wait- you don’t-”, she kicked helplessly, tongue screwed into knots in her mouth, saliva evaporating in fear. She was a runner, darting away from grabs or weapons, leaping over windows, keeping at a distance. She wasn’t- what was she supposed to do for- for this?!

Her scrambled thoughts were interrupted with a soft pressure on the corner of her mouth, Meg stiffening as she startled. Ghostface’s shoulders shook in amusement at her reaction, lowering his body to trap her completely against the ground. 

“You weren’t thinking of a way to try to get away, were you, hun?” He teased as Meg panicked, legs kicking fruitlessly in the air as she strained against his hold. His mouth drifted close to hers before he shifted upwards, pressing a soft kiss to edge of her brow as she screwed her face up tensely. 

“You’re just so adorable. I could eat you right up,” he breathed above her, warm air fanning her face as the survivor pressed further into the ground, glancing desperately at the glimpses of the sky above his frame. The Entity would never let a match go on so long, punishing any attempts to take a break within its games. Where was it now?? Why hadn’t she been forcefully grabbed out of the trial yet?!

“Are you looking for help?” Ghostface teased, Meg’s gaze immediately snapping to him. She could only see his mouth curling into a satisfied, coy grin from her angle, drifting closer as Meg turned away once more.

“Oh don’t worry,” he soothed, a hand releasing her wrist to brush through her loose braid, snapping the elastic at the bottom to release it. A strand of her hair was gently clasped in his hand, pulled to his mouth as Meg trembled in exhaustion, tense in the face of the unknown. His lips pressed down, kissing it gently as his grin peeked over it, the redhead feeling as though she were doused in a bucket of cold water. 

“I made sure we wouldn’t get interrupted.”

[littlebitsalt]

IM SO HAPPY MY REQUEST (the catboy one) TURNS MORE THAN MY EXPECTATION(≡^∇^≡) im so happy you make it story, i thought you wouldnt understand with my words(T＿T) and i love your drawing of him! :D

Thanks😍

Yandere catboy x reader

Note: this is a continuation of part 1

Link

Summary: 5 short stories about the catboy

<1>

Blake dreamed of this moment. Snuggling next to you, on your bed.

He had to be in his cat form in your house, and he had a new name, but it didn't matter that much.

He actually changed into his human self again to unlock the door to your room. It was a close call and he almost got caught by your brother who got thirsty at night. When he went inside your room, you were sleeping peacefully. He looked at you, occasionally touching your face, smiling.

He knew he had to turn back to Tux if he wanted to keep it safe. However, he also wanted to feel you against him in his human form for a little bit longer. He lay beside you, his eyes half closed because of exhaustion.

"..."

He knew well not to fall asleep as Blake, but he drifted off to sleep.

Blake woke up the next day, his eyes opening right up looking around the room fast. Luckily, you were asleep. After checking the time, Blake quickly changed to his cat form.

--

Blake had a busy day. He pretended to be a stray cat taken in by your family at day. He also had to stay right beside you, watching your every movement(and he loved it). And after you drifted off to sleep, he had to go to his own house, just to do things he missed at daytime.

No one really cared if he was in his house. Maybe no one really was in the house is more accurate.

Blake crawled away from your bed and went out of the house. It was midnight, and the streets were empty.

In his cat form, Blake walked to his own home. He wanted to stay with you for the night, but he couldn't. He slept in his cat form the first few nights, but he couldn't stay that way forever. Changing into his cat form was not something to do for hours.

Blake's house was empty and quiet. There was no one in the house as expected. Blake changed back to his human form and looked around. He had stuff to do, normal things he needed to take care of. He didn't want his family member to find out he is changing into his cat form regularly only to see you.

He spent the entire night awake. It was tiresome, but he managed. It was better than you waking up and finding him on your bed because he couldn't manage to stay in his cat form.

At school, all Blake did was sleep. He slept through all classes. It didn't matter to him anyways(he could catch up by studying at night). Maintaining a life as your cat was his top priority right now.

All he needed to do was get close to you as Blake, and somehow make you open up to him.

<2>

"I know there's something going on with you and Blake.*

You had to admit your friend has great insight when it comes to relationships between people.

"What? No."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying"

There was something going on with you and Blake, but it was not something normal.

"I'll prove you wrong at some point."

Your friend said, as she walked to another direction home.

You walked past where the cats usually hang out. You were listening to music through your earphones when you felt a familiar touch.

"Blake?"

It was Blake. You knew it was him easily.

"Did you miss me?"

Blake asked, smiling.

"Why did you skip school today?"

You asked.

"Huh?"

Blake looked surprised.

"Were you sick? An appointment?"

You asked again. Blake chuckled at your genuine questions.

"No, I was with my family member. Well uh.. he visits once a month to check if I'm doing ok. I spend time with him when he comes to my home."

You remembered now that Blake always skipped school once a month for some reason.

"That explains it... uh.. what do you mean by family member?"

You realized you knew nothing of Blake while Blake almost knew everything about you. Blake never told you about his story.

"... uhm.. he's my uncle. I live alone so he comes once every month to see if I'm living like a decent human being."

"Oh, okay.. that seems a bit.. lonely."

"Then you can spend time with me, and hug me back every time."

You guessed Blake's family was either super cool about him wandering around or too busy, but you didn't know Blake was that lonely.

"What did you do today? I hope you didn't get closer to anyone else, because.. I can't let you do that- well.. uh.. we practically live together, and you can't deceive me.."

"You know well I don't have much friends."

Blake held your hand until you arrived in front of the door to your house.

"Are you going to turn into a cat again?"

".. I guess so."

"You can turn into human again in my room, so don't worry."

<3>

That day was limit and Blake know that well now. Staying as a cat in your house was too much to handle. Staying awake all night and wandering around all night made stress unbearable to his body.

So when you came back home to greet Tux, Blake couldn't control himself.

And that made all his work into nothing. Now you knew he was not the cat you imagined and you cared of. You now avoid him in school, hanging out with someone else when he's right there, looking at you.

Blake raced to your house and turned to a cat before he was too sick to do so. He waited for you to come home, and see him as Tux again.

You never rejected him harshly or directly so Blake thought that if he push you farther it would work. You might accept him. Then he'll be beside you, as Blake.

<4>

"That explains everything. Why you turned into a human so suddenly, and why you always sleep in class-"

You say giving some snacks your mom bought to Blake. Blake was sitting at your desk while you unpacked your school bag.

"..."

"... but don't you think it'll be better if you.."

You stopped for a moment. You acknowledge Blake's lonely(or you assume), but does that mean you should let him be with you all day..?

"I mean.. I think staying with one person all day won't be the best idea."

You finished your sentence.

"Why not? I don't have anything to do in my house, and I love you. I want to be beside you."

Blake frowned at your statement. Standing up from the chair, he continued,

"I don't understand why you're so distant. You loved it when Tux was with you 24/7, and now you don't like the idea of me with you all day.."

Blake was now right behind you.

"... uh.... I mean that you should find something else to uhm.. accompany you."

You said.

"You're getting it all wrong. What else would I accompany when I do not have you in the first place?"

Blake was persistent about staying with you all day. You could feel that from his tone. You turned around to face Blake.

"Then... what about you come over to my house after dinner time and sleep in my room?"

"Huh..?"

"You can stay at your place and do your own things. And after dinner.. maybe about 7 or 8, you can come over to my room, and we can spend some time with each other. You can sleep in my room also."

Blake seemed to be hesitant but nodded.

".. but what will you tell your family if Tux is gone?"

Blake asked.

"I don't know.. I'll just tell them the cat ran away. I think they'll believe it. I'll pretend to be shocked about the disappearance too."

You replied, looking at Blake, who had the best expression on his face.

"Thanks.."

Blake said, his hand wrapping around your body hard.

"Okay, okay- don't hug me too hard-"

<5>

You turned off the lights and plunged onto your bed. It was been almost a week since Blake came to your room to spend time with you. Blake seemed to be enjoying the whole situation. You were sometimes tired of Blake's affection, but you managed.

"I feel like we're a married couple."

Blake said suddenly.

"You should stop daydreaming."

You said, turning your body to the opposite side of Blake.

"It's not daydreaming."

"Why?"

"I'll make it happen someday. You wait and see."

"..."

"We're already so close to each other, so I think it's only a matter of time."

Blake said with confidence.

"You always accept me. You only need some time."

[gurofushi]

“i left love letters in your locker, don't forget to read them.”

꣑୧ saiki kuriko x fem! reader. (fluff)

warnings; none. <3

a/n; kusuo as a girl (kuriko) is actually so pretty oml i HAD to write something about her :<

(apologies for any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language^^)

recess was about to end soon. you and your usual circle of friends were sitting at a table somewhere near the entrance of the cafeteria.

they were being loud as usual, but you didn't mind, they were your best friends after all.

though for some reason, you couldn't seem to focus on whatever topic they were shouting on about to eachother.

instead, your mind was being occupied by a pink haired friend of yours, one that was sitting right across from you on the table.

saiki kuriko, she was one of your closest friends and long time crush.

she was quiet, reserved and liked to be alone most of the time, but you'd always find yourself spending time with her quite often.

even though she doesn't really say much, she has always had this silent charm to her that has never failed to draw all of your attention to her.

despite all of your feelings towards her, you knew that you could never confess, you were too scared to cause you knew you could possibly put your current friendship into jeopardy.

‘i'm completely happy with staying friends with her.. right? yeah, i totally am. she doesn't have to know anything, i don't wanna lose her.’

well, too bad for you. kuriko could only raise her eyebrows as she heard your thoughts.

unbeknownst to you, kuriko felt the exact same way. only difference is, she had already planned on confessing her feelings to you.

her plan was already underway as of right now.

so far, she successfully wrote three long and heartfelt letters expressing her admiration and love for you.

that was a lie. each letter only had ‘i like you.’ ‘you're very pretty.’ and ‘be my girlfriend.’ written on them. she tried her best.

she was able to teleport those letters into your locker, in exchange for some silly cat drawings you kept. (but don't worry, she made sure to remember to give them back to you.)

now, all she had to do was to tell you about the written confession she left so that you wouldn't miss them before you went home.

easy enough right?

wrong, seems like kuriko didn't think hard enough about that part.

there's no way she would actually *tell you* that she was confessing. that's absur–

ringgg!

the bell rung, signalling the students to go back to each of their classes.

each of you stood up from your seats and started to bid eachother goodbye before making your way out of the cafeteria.

“y/n, wait.”

kuriko held your wrist to prevent you from walking for a moment. you turned to look at her, and so did your other friends.

unfortunately, kuriko didn't notice that they did. her focus was completely on you.

“ah, yes?”

“i left love letters in your locker, don't forget to read them.”

she told you bluntly. you were stunned, unable to move as your mouth hung open.

after a moment of silence, you quickly regained your composure and nodded with slightly red cheeks.

“o-oh, i see. okay, kuriko. ill be sure to read them.”

kuriko only responded with a nod and slight smile before turning away and walking towards her next class.

she felt accomplished, all she had to do now was to wait for your response to her feelings, even though she already knew your answer, she wanted to hear it come out of your own mouth.

“woaah, y/n! didn't know our pal kuriko had the hots for ya! congratulations!”

she froze as her train of thought suddenly came to a halt.

others thoughts started to fill her brain as she slowly realized what she did.

she DID NOT just tell you that in front of all the others.. right?

‘im done for.’

this was way too rushed than i intended it to be 😭 it's literally almost 1 in the morning and im just finishing this up.

i hope this was still readable anyway, i promise that ill be posting better stuff soon! xoxo

[griseldabanks]

Maybelle and the Beast

My contribution to the @inklings-challenge Four Loves Fairy Tale Challenge. This was my back-up idea for last year, so I was excited to have an excuse to finally write it out! Beauty and the Beast is my favorite fairy tale, and I have a feeling I may revisit this particular version again in the future, because I could definitely turn this into a novel ;) I'll admit to taking a lot of inspiration from Robin McKinley's retellings of this fairy tale.

Maybelle stared at the tall, imposing mahogany door. She felt just as reluctant to open it as if it had been the barred portal to a dungeon—like the cold stone chamber she'd explored early on in her stay here, which she expected had been a dungeon once but was now a wine cellar.

More to stall for time than anything else, Maybelle brushed off her rust red skirt and straightened her collar. It was a nervous habit, but in a way it also served to remind her of why she was here, because of who had given her these clothes. Days, weeks, months in this huge, empty mansion, alone except for one companion. The companion who had slammed this very door not half an hour ago.

Taking a deep breath, Maybelle knocked firmly on the door.

“Go 'way,” a muffled voice growled out to her.

Letting out her breath again in an impatient huff, Maybelle crossed her arms. “Are you still sulking, Agnes?”

“I am not sulking,” the voice insisted sulkily.

“Right. You're lying in bed at three in the afternoon, glaring a hole in the ceiling, for your health.”

After a heavy silence, a loud click told her the key had turned in the hole. Taking that as an invitation, Maybelle opened the door and stepped inside.

The heavy drapes had been pulled closed, leaving the bedroom in a stuffy half-light. The only illumination came from the embers of the fire dying in the fireplace. She could barely even make out the silhouette of a large bulk lying in the huge four-poster. It was like stepping into a sickroom.

Rolling her eyes at the drama of it all, Maybelle closed the door with a snap and made a beeline for the window closest to the fireplace. She pulled the curtains aside, letting a band of lazy afternoon sunlight stretch across the carpet, revealing the twisting patterns of vines and roses. After a moment's consideration, Maybelle decided not to open the curtains of the other window nearest the bed. Best not to annoy Agnes any further with a sunbeam in her eyes. She would probably just wave her hand and make the curtains close, then stick together so Maybelle couldn't open them again. Instead, Maybelle contented herself with throwing the window open and letting in the delicious scents of flowers and the buzzing of bees from the gardens.

“There,” she said, drawing in a deep breath of the fresh smell of spring. “Much better.”

With a grunt, the huge lump on the bed rolled over.

Maybelle walked up to the foot of the bed and stood there with her hands on her hips, just waiting. How strange, to remember how frightened she had been the first time she'd ventured into this room. Or how her knees had nearly given out the first time she'd dared to meet the gaze of the terrible Beast who was to be her captor.

It had been months since she'd ceased to be the Beast, and became instead...simply Agnes.

“Well?” Maybelle said, when it became clear Agnes wasn't about to break the silence. “Aren't we going to at least talk about this?”

The long tail lying on top of the blue bedspread flicked irritably, like a huge cat's. “What's to talk about?” Agnes retorted, her voice grumbling like a motorcar in her massive chest. “Clearly, you don't care what happens to me, as long as you get to go have fun without me.”

Closing her eyes for a moment, Maybelle sent up a silent prayer for patience. “Well, for starters,” she said, her voice coming out more sharply than she'd intended, “you called me an awful lot of horrid names, and I thought perhaps you might want to apologize.”

A long, pregnant pause. Finally, with a long-suffering groan from the bed, Agnes rolled over onto her back, her arms tucked up against her chest almost like a dog waiting for a belly rub. The long, black skirt did little to hide her bowed legs ending in sharp claws, and from this angle, her long saber teeth and curled goat-like horns were no longer hidden in her mountain of pillows.

Agnes sighed in resignation. “Sorry for calling you a selfish, bird-brained floozy.”

Maybelle nodded. “Apology accepted. And...I'm sorry too. For calling you a heartless, hairy pig.”

Their eyes met across the room. Agnes let out a snort, followed by a loud guffaw, and suddenly Maybelle found herself laughing as well. The tight coil of anger and bitterness loosened in her chest as she tipped her head back and let her higher-pitched laughter harmonize with Agnes' deep, hefty chuckles.

Still giggling, Maybelle crossed over and flopped onto the huge bed beside Agnes. She felt so tiny in this bed, like a doll. And yet, even though she was sure Agnes could snap her like a twig if she so desired, Maybelle didn't feel a shred of fear to lie a mere foot away from her.

For a couple minutes, they merely lay there, staring up into the canopy over the four-poster. Maybelle had just realized the stars embroidered there formed constellations and was looking for Orion when Agnes broke the silence.

“You were right, you know.” Her voice was a low, sad rumble like a locomotive rushing past in the night. “I am a pig.”

“Oh, no!” Maybelle raised herself on one elbow, looking over in alarm. “Please, forget those awful things I said. It was very wrong of me to call you that.”

Agnes turned her head aside, but Maybelle thought she caught the sight of a tear glistening in one eye. “You were only speaking the truth. Like you always do. I am heartless. Because I care more about not being alone than I do about you getting a chance to see your family. Even when all you ask is to go to your sister's wedding...I'm too selfish to let you go.”

Slowly, Maybelle lowered herself to her pillow again. She wasn't quite sure what to say, so she spoke slowly, picking her words carefully. “I wasn't thinking of you either. I'm sorry, Agnes. I know...I mean, I can imagine how lonely it must get here, in this huge mansion all alone. But it would only be for the weekend. Just enough to meet Edward and see Adeline off. I'd be back before you could miss me too much.”

“You...would come back?”

Agnes' voice sounded so hesitant and tremulous, Maybelle looked over in surprise, but she couldn't make out her friend's expression past the horn and the unruly mane of hair. “Of course I'll come back. That's part of the deal.”

The silence seemed to congeal between them. Neither of them had mentioned the deal Agnes and Maybelle's father had worked out, not since...Maybelle couldn't even remember. During the past several months, it had become easy to forget how all of this began. When Maybelle had first arrived at the mansion, she'd shut thoughts of home out of her mind as much as possible, to make her dreadful fate a little more bearable. If she weren't constantly thinking of the little cottage or trying to imagine what her father and sisters were up to, perhaps she could carve a small measure of contentment out of her exile. It was a small price to pay for her father's life, after all.

But it had been months since Maybelle had seriously believed that Agnes would have eaten her father. Not after she'd seen the delicate way Agnes handled the gardening tools when she tended to her enchanted rose bushes. Not after the way she'd cradled that finch's body in her enormous hands, huge tears rolling down her hairy face as she muttered spell after spell that fizzled out, unable to bring the tiny animal back to life.

Not after scores upon scores of cozy evenings by the fire, laughing together as Maybelle tried to teach Agnes how to knit with two iron pokers, or taking turns reading from one of the books in the huge library.

For the first time, Maybelle tried to imagine what life must have been like for Agnes in all the years before her father had shown up on the doorstep. Sitting alone in front of a guttering fire. Pacing the dark, dusty hallways, with nothing to hear but the echoes of her own footsteps. Wandering the grounds, able to turn the seasons at a word and the weather at a glance, but with nothing but the birds and bees to listen to her words. A library that magically seemed to provide exactly the book she wanted to read, but all the stories of friendship and adventure only serving to mock her solitude.

“I promise I'll come back,” Maybelle said firmly. “Deal or no deal. I won't leave you alone forever.”

A strange, strangled sound escaped Agnes, quickly disguised in a clearing of her throat. “Well,” she said gruffly, “good. But if you don't come back in three days, I'll die.”

Maybelle rolled her eyes. Always so dramatic.

-----

It was raining when Maybelle returned to the mansion. Since it was midsummer out in the rest of the world, she hadn't thought to pack a coat, so she just ducked her head and hurried up the gravel walk to the great front doors. This wasn't a summer rain, either; the chilly breeze cut right through the thin sleeves of the flower-patterned dress Violette had made for her.

The front doors seemed heavier than usual. Normally, they swung open at the first touch of her hand, but this time Maybelle had to throw her shoulder against one to open it. Perhaps Agnes had left a window open somewhere and there was a draft. Though that seemed strange; surely Agnes would have either closed the window or shifted the weather instead of letting all this cold rain blow in.

Maybelle turned back to glance out the door. It looked like Agnes had fully committed to a dreary late November today. The bare branches of the trees clacked together while the wind howled through them, cold raindrops splashing in puddles that turned the walkways to mud. It made her wonder if the rain had kept up the whole time she'd been away.

Shivering, Maybelle heaved the front door closed again, picked up her bag, and started towards the stairs. “Agnes!” she called, her voice echoing around the huge entryway. “I'm home!”

She was halfway up the stairs, struggling with her free hand to unpin her hair and wring out some of the water, when she realized the lamps were dark. Her feet slowed to a stop in the lush carpeting, and she frowned up at the huge chandelier that hung over the open space. Every time she'd set foot in this hall—or anywhere else in the house, for that matter—candles lit themselves and lamps burst to life. At first, she'd found it frightening, especially when she would walk down a long, straight corridor with the candles flaring up in front of her and winking out behind her, leaving her in a bubble of illumination.

But after all these months, she'd grown used to such things. Doors opening at a touch, lamps lighting on their own, plates of food and cups of tea appearing on tables right when she wanted them, a bath drawn and waiting for her without even the hint of a servant in sight. It was all part of the magic of this place. Agnes' magic.

In the cold darkness and silence, Maybelle suddenly remembered what Agnes had said before her trip. If you don't come back in three days, I'll die.

A chill ran down her spine that had nothing to do with her soaked dress. Surely Agnes had just been exaggerating, the way she so often did. Like that time she'd said she felt like she'd been alone in this mansion for a hundred years. Or when she said she lived under a curse.

But still...where was she? After all the fuss she'd made when Maybelle had first asked to leave, why wasn't she waiting for her? Was she sulking in her room again?

“Agnes!” Maybelle called again, slowly climbing the rest of the stairs. “I'm back! Where are you?”

Nothing but silence to welcome her.

Her footsteps slowed as she reached the top of the stairs and turned to the right, heading for her room. The corridor was wide enough that there wasn't much danger of bumping into things, but it was all so eerie without candles lighting her way. She paused at the corner, where a tall window offered a bit of cold illumination.

Shivering, Maybelle looked out at the darkening grounds, still lashed by the driving rain. The rosebushes looked like they were taking a beating, magic or no magic. Even as she watched, the wind stripped leaves off the branches, and most of the brightly-colored petals were already gone. What on earth was Agnes thinking? Even in her most fickle moods, she would usually relent if she realized it would endanger her precious roses....

Maybelle frowned. What was that dark lump in the middle of the path? She hadn't noticed it as she rushed up the front drive, but from this higher vantage point, she could see it clearly. Was it a tarp caught under a wheelbarrow, knocked onto its side in all this wind?

No. Those weren't the handles of a wheelbarrow. They were horns. Two horns, curled like a goat's, rising from a big hairy head lying in the mud....

Dropping everything, Maybelle grabbed her dripping skirts and raced back down the corridor. She hopped up onto the banister as she'd done so many times before and slid expertly to the bottom. Laughing as Agnes tried to imitate her and toppled over the side in a heap.

She ran to the front door and heaved it open, letting go as the howling wind gusted in and slammed it back against the wall. “Last one inside's a rotten egg!”

The rain almost seemed to be falling horizontally, the wind was so strong. Holding up an arm to shield her face, Maybelle splashed along the muddy path as fast as she could. Walking along the path, crunching through the snow, leaving behind a neat row of shoe prints and paw prints side-by-side.

“Agnes!” Maybelle screamed, the wind stealing her voice, as she turned down an aisle between the rosebushes. “You were wrong when you said there was nothing beautiful about you, Agnes. Just look at your roses!”

There she lay, like a mound of dirt, one arm flung around a rosebush as if to protect it, the other curled tight against her chest. She wasn't moving.

“Agnes?” Maybelle dropped to her knees in a puddle by Agnes' side. Throwing her weight against Agnes' huge shoulder, she managed to roll her onto her back. But how would she ever drag her up into the house?

A weak groan escaped Agnes' lips, and her eyelids fluttered, then slid open. “May...belle?”

Hot tears stung Maybelle's eyes. “Thank goodness!” she cried, grasping Agnes' hand in both of hers. “I thought you were....”

Agnes slowly opened her hand, and Maybelle saw that it was cupped around a small, bedraggled red rose. Most of the petals were gone, and those that remained looked wilted.

“Last one,” Agnes grunted. “Not much...time now.”

“It's all right,” Maybelle said, trying to give her an encouraging smile. “We can replant. Once you're feeling a little stronger, maybe you can turn the weather back to spring and—“

“No.” A shudder ran through Agnes' whole body, and her face twisted in a horrible grimace of pain. “No starting over. No...No use.”

“What are you talking about?” Maybelle patted her friend's hand. “Of course we can start over. We can always start over.”

“But...we sh-shouldn't.” Agnes' voice grew fainter by the minute, and Maybelle had to lean closer to hear. “Just...go back home...Maybelle.”

Icy fingers of dread closed around Maybelle's heart. “What? No! I made a promise, remember? I'm to stay here in my father's place—“

“I release you.” Her big amber eyes rolled to meet Maybelle's, bloodshot and exhausted, but crystal clear. “It was...wrong. I...was wrong. To make you stay...against your will. So...I...re...lease...you....”

With that final whisper, her eyes slid closed, and her head lolled back onto the ground. A shiver, like a tiny electric pulse, ran through Maybelle's whole body, and she knew that some sort of spell had just ended.

“No, Agnes!” Frantically, Maybelle chafed Agnes' hands, patted her cheeks, loosened her collar. “Agnes, you don't understand! I'm not here against my will! We're friends, Agnes! I want to be here!”

The huge beast didn't move. This wasn't like the times Agnes sulked and refused to talk to Maybelle. She couldn't even tell if Agnes was breathing anymore.

Desperate to do something, Maybelle tried to heave Agnes into her arms, but the most she could manage was to cradle Agnes' head in her lap. Tears mingled with rainwater on her furry cheeks.

What if she were dead already? What would Maybelle do then? Go back to her family? But there would be no more strolling through the gardens in the evening, no more reading by firelight, no more long conversations or teaching each other games or trying to braid each other's hair or teaching Agnes how to dance or listening to her wonderful singing voice or laughing at each other's silly jokes or....

“Don't be stupid, Agnes!” Maybelle sobbed. “You're my best friend. The best friend I've ever had. No one knows me like you do. No one cares like you do. If I knew this would happen to you, I never would have gone away.”

Maybelle rested her cheek against Agnes' forehead, in between the horns, and rocked back and forth, holding her best friend close. “I'm sorry, Agnes...I'm sorry.... I never wanted to lose you. I just...I just wanted to keep being your friend. Always. Forever.” A painful sob ripped out of her chest as her best friend's body lay cold and still in her arms. “I love you, Agnes.”

Faintly, Maybelle was aware that the wind had died down, and raindrops no longer pounded down on her head and shoulders. The realization of what that meant only made her cry harder. Her fingers tangled in Agnes' mane of hair as she mumbled over and over again, “I love you, Agnes...I love you....”

“Love you too.”

Maybelle looked up at those gruff words, then gave a great start as she realized she held a complete stranger in her arms.

The woman she held was large, with broad shoulders and a squarish jaw. She was no great beauty, especially not with disheveled brown hair straggling all over the place or her body swimming in Agnes' oversized dress, but there was something comfortable and familiar about....

Wait. “Ag...nes?”

Moving stiffly, the woman held her own hands up in front of her face and turned them around, as if she'd never seen them before. Slowly, a wondering smile crossed her face, and Maybelle noticed this woman's front teeth protruded slightly.

Not too unlike the huge fangs that had curved from Agnes' lips.

Then she raised her eyes to meet Maybelle's, and there was no doubt. Those were the amber-brown eyes of her best friend.

“Agnes!”

They threw their arms around each other, and they were crying, but they were also laughing, and Agnes was trying to tell her something about a fairy and a flower and a curse, but Maybelle was too distracted by how small Agnes was in her arms. How high Agnes' voice was.

“How?” she gulped, pulling back and holding Agnes at arms' length. “How did this happen?”

“It's all you, silly!” Agnes laughed, swiping her sleeve over Maybelle's cheeks to dry her tears. She still moved carefully, as if afraid of accidentally swiping Maybelle with nonexistent claws. “True love breaks any curse, don't you know that?”

“True love?” Maybelle sniffled.

Tears spilled out of Agnes' beautiful amber eyes and rolled down her round, rosy cheeks. “What love could be truer than this?” she said with a shaky laugh. “That you'd still want to be friends with someone as beastly as me?”

“Oh, you're not as bad as all that.”

Agnes raised her eyebrows. “Really? Even after all those nasty things I said to scare you on your first night here? Or when I threw a chair at you and screamed when you went exploring in the west wing?”

“Well....” Maybelle didn't know how to deny it without completely lying, so she hastily changed the subject. “I don't regret anything, though. I don't regret coming here. I don't regret deciding to be your friend.”

With a watery chuckle, Agnes rested their foreheads together. “I don't regret it either.”

[happyanderes]

⚠︎Letter⚠︎

☎︎002-001

Stalker x reader

⚠︎Warnings: Yandere, stalking, drug usage(movie chloroform)

This is an oldie, so no drawings of the guy:>

Unless someone wants to see it

Word count:1.6k

If you’re reading this letter, I hope you read it to the end. 

You have the right to know everything written in here.

The first time I met you was exactly three months ago, it was a fraction of a second. you walked past me with hurried steps, I was deep in thought.

At that moment, a question that popped in my head.

Can someone know everything about a person when the other doesn’t?

……Only one way to find out. 

It was an experiment, and I chose you to be my participant.

To be honest, it could’ve been anyone walking there, you were just unlucky, I guess.

So I took the plan into action and turn around to follow you home. The first thing I learned about you was that you walk really fast, as if you’re in a hurry. 

But I was faster, you were relaxed, I can hear the little tune you were humming along with the music from your earphones. You liked that song a lot back then, but it changed to another lately, right?

Anyways, you were in your little world, I didn’t even have to hide the sound of my footsteps. Well, nobody is prepared for a stalker, not even me, perhaps.

I learned so much about you just that night, you would play with the straps on your bag, twist your fingers in them. Did you notice that little habit? It looks like you want your hand to be held.

And the way you breathe was quite adorable, sometimes you take deeper breaths as if you forgot to breathe.

You were a complete stranger to me, not my type, even.

But those little details were quite intriguing, so I continued on with my “research”.

Can someone know everything about a person when the other doesn’t?

For the first two weeks, I followed you through you going between work and home, at 8:30 sharp, but you often leave late, looking tired, were you being picked on? I later knew that it was in fact, true. Poor you, but it’ll get better, I’ll make sure of that.

By following you, I learned quite a lot, your favorite foods in the convenience store, how you would get all excited when you see a stray cat, or someone walking a dog. 

But that wasn’t enough, I can see you have a mask on when you’re outside, always smiling, always so composed.

So, I did what I have to, I broke in your house. It was so easy, who hides their spare keys in somewhere so obvious? So I took it and had someone make a copy, they didn’t suspect a thing, even laughed and told me to be careful with my keys, after all, who would know they’d encounter a stalker in real life? It’s amusing.

I haven’t felt such emotions in a long time, the fear of being caught, the excitement of sneaking around, the interesting feeling when I think about how nobody suspected me.

Strangely, I didn’t feel guilt, I mean, never had. 

(Click)

Anyways, I went in your apartment, it was way smaller than what I’ve expected, and quite messy, must I add. But it holds a certain charm to it, how you really are is so obvious just by seeing this room, I find it cute, how your pajamas are lying on the bed, how you forgot to leave the cap of your toothpaste on. Always, you go to work in a hurry and come home so late, do you have time for anything?

The first day was a little dangerous, I was so into the photo albums and the trinkets you collect in your room I almost forgot the time, I went past you when you were on the ground floor, but you didn’t seem to notice me, you looked so tired, no matter how much make up you put on it couldn’t hide those dark circles.

I felt bad for you, but I can’t help out yet, the experiment will last for three months.

Can someone know everything about a person when the other doesn’t?

After that, I often visit your house, in fact, I visit every day when you were not there. I would go in, look at all your things, then leave before sun down.

It was when I tried to go in your computer and faced a password did I realize that I don’t know your name yet. 

So I went through all your stuff, finding some mail and your passport, found your password, your name and your birthday isn’t a good combination, by the way, someone bad might figure it out.

It’s too late for that, apparently.

The stuff you have in there is just, so interesting.

First of all, you should block that guy who’s keep messaging you instead of dragging it on! Why are you giving him hope? He’s disturbing you and that alone is enough for him to die a thousand times.

Next, interesting taste in fictions. We might make a good couple.

Unfortunately, I didn’t think about it too much at the time, the need to do an experiment was replaced by the excitement rather than attachment or emotions towards you, of course, I felt attached to you, but it wasn’t strong……not yet.

Then after a month or so, I went through everything I could find, including your computer, I even read all the manga and stuff to get to know you more……and I hate to admit it, but it wasn’t half bad, some had nice plots.

But at some point, I couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing you, so I went back to stalking you. I’ve gone a little rusty, but same as always, you didn’t feel it, it was a little frustrating to be honest, I don’t want you to notice me in this experiment, but at the same time I wanted you to turn your head around and use those beautiful eyes to look at me, to notice me, to show all those emotions and little details to me. I must have gone crazy……if I wasn’t at the start. 

We are only halfway through the experiment, and I’ve known so, so, so much about you, all those adorable little quirks, the real side of you, you became so beautiful in my eyes when I started stalking you again, for a moment, I thought you were an angel, not the biblical accurate ones you’ve seen in fictions, the ones people think about.

It was then I realized, I have fallen, not that deep yet, but…... 

If I stopped the experiment could we still be strangers back then? 

Can we?

No, it was too late for that……

Just following you wasn’t enough anymore, just going through your albums isn’t enough anymore, just looking through every post you made on social media isn’t enough anymore.

I have to……no, need to touch you.

It was the biggest risk I’ve taken by far, It would be the end if I was caught.

But it was so tempting, to touch your hair, your face…..to hold your hand and kiss your nose. 

I enjoy petting your hair a lot, whenever I touch them, I can’t get my hand off it it, and how comfortable you look when I pet you even when you’re sleeping. 

And the way your nose would scrunch up whenever I kiss you, as if it tickles you is just so cute.

That was just so adorable I couldn’t help but kiss you again and again, in your forehead, your eyelids, your cheeks, and your lips. They were soft, but a little dry.

It became routine, everyday when you’re fast asleep I would go in your house and just look at you, if I was feeling bold I’d touch you some more.

But it’s not enough, it’ll never be enough.

I haven’t slept well ever since I met you that day, I was making notes, or planning things, you never leave my head, every second of my life was surrounded by you, but the fact that you don’t know me was driving me crazy, you did all of this unconsciously.

By the time I realized, it’s only a week until this experiment ends. I learned about anything I could possibly learn about you, the way you talk to the people you like, the way you talk to the people you dislike, the little habit you have when you’re tense, I fell madly in love with you.

But there’s one thing I don’t know about you.

What would you do when you talk to me?

What face would you make when you see me?

Some stranger who knows all about you?

I think I have an inkling.

I can predict what you do easily, it’s amusing.

Anyways, I took a little time off from you and got some……supplies, I’ll put it that way. I’ve decorated our new place in the way you like, I hope you would appreciate it. I should be in your house by now, remember to take a deep breath.

I’ll come and get you in……

5

                  4

                                           3

                                               2

1

(Suddenly, you feel someone breathing on your neck)

(when did the door click open? )

“Ah ah ah, don’t run.”

(An arm was wrapped around your waist)

”The experiment was successful, I know aAaaLlll about you.”

(A cloth covered your mouth and your nose, you try to struggle, but it’s getting dizzy.)

“But it’s time for you to know about me. After all, it’s only fair for you to know all about me when I know you so well.”

(Your consciousness is fading, you tried to attack the person behind you, but you don’t have any strength anymore.)

“Can’t wait to have those pretty eyes looking at me.”

(You lose conscious)

[canbean-enby]

You Accidentally Found His Sketchbook pt. 3 Bakugou x Gn!reader

A/n: THIS IS FINALLY DONE OMFG. I am sorry I have kept you loves waiting but...the more you wait the better something will be right? Anyway, here we are. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for all of the love you all have been showing this small series :) Gn!reader x Bakugou CW: cussing and bad cat puns

Best experienced in light mode

Part one | Part two |

Previously

You looked at your phone and noticed that the times didn’t correlate at all. Why is the picture set for the future if it’s the same date?

You stopped in your tracks and looked up at him, realizing what the blonde was too shy to ask you aloud.

“Meet me at the front at three. If you’re late, I’m leaving your stupid ass”

And he just walked off. Many thoughts raced through your mind but the main one being:

Is this a date?

Before you could ask, the blonde walked away from you, getting away just as you blinked. Whether this was a date or not, you need to figure out what to wear. Your panic made you call Mina instantly, she would be able to decipher this madness…right? Wrong. When you told her the situation, she brought along the rest of the group, and the five of you could not figure out the blond’s true intentions. The first time looking at the drawing, they said that it was “obviously a date.” However, looking at it a second, third, and fourth time, the group became more confused. 

"Is that a blush on his face?"

"No, he must’ve done that by accident."

"Why would he keep it if it was by accident? It must be a date."

"Look at how he is dressed, it’s too casual. It can’t be a date."

"That’s just how he dresses, plus, it looks like he tried a little more than usual."

The contradicting thoughts made your head swirl. You were so panicked that you didn’t even notice the time. It was just thirty minutes before you had to meet up with the male, and no one could decipher the picture. So, for your sanity, you shoved everyone out and decided to go with the flow. You looked at the drawing, saw what you wore in it, and tried to match it as best as you could. Not too much, but something that shows you still put in the effort. This should be fine...right?

There was no time to debate because as you finish, you look at the clock and realize you’re a minute late. You grab your phone and wallet, then zoom out of your room at a speed that would make Allmight jealous.

As you walk up to the entrance of the dorms, you notice the blonde instantly and he is dressed in the same fashion as you are. You let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding and speed walk up to him.

“I’m so sorry I’m late I-“

“Just shut up and let’s go.”

The abruptness of his speech made you turn silent. You decided that talking wouldn't be best until you made it to the cafe.

Little did you know that the crimson-eyed male in front of you was sweating his ass off. Without you talking, his thoughts were going wild. He was so nervous and the fact that you were not your usual chatty, funny, and extroverted self made him doubt if you really wanted to be here. Obviously, you did or you wouldn't be here...right?

He had to try something, anything to get you to talk again. To hear that sweet voice that he subconsciously wishes he could hear forever.

"What the hell did you put on? It's making my nose bleed."

You look up at him and roll your eyes, a small smile plastered onto your face as you walk up beside him. You pinch him a little before responding. "For your information, this is actually my favorite scent so watch what you say next firework."

That nickname. That goddamn nickname. Besides the fact that it is meant to be an insult. It makes his stomach do small flips every time he hears it. The usual nicknames or insults that were thrown his way were never creative enough or personalized to make him care. They were often repetitive of what someone else said or just basic. Maybe Kirishima's was also different but that doesn't count at this moment.

"Oi are you listening" you smack him on the shoulder as you notice the blonde was staring into space.

"Of course I was."

"Then answer my question."

"What question?"

You roll your eyes for the second time that afternoon and ask him once again. "Why are you bringing me here?"

You decided to get the question out into the open so you know what to expect. Whether you were going to be disappointed, surprised, or excited by his answer you couldn't wait all night to hear what it was.

"Because I fucking felt like it. It's your birthday stupid. Plus, you like this shitty cafe, and it's not that expensive."

He shrugs and looks ahead of him again. Of course, he didn't answer your question. Why were you expecting a response outside of that one? He's Bakugou Katsuki.

The rest of the walk to the cafe was quiet. Mixes of small jokes and jabs at each other were sprinkled in every now and then. But that didn't stop the anxiety that settled in the pit of both of your stomachs.

Upon entering the cafe, you hear a mix of coos and meows. This is where you belong. You take a deep breath and smile down as you feel something brushing up against your leg. When you look down you expect to see the cat that always greets you, a cute blue-eyed Birman that you have fallen in love with. However, you are met with a gray British Shorthair in its place. While this has caused you slight shock and panic, you pick up the cat anyway and give it the attention it deserves before putting it back down.

When you're seated at your table, you keep looking around for the cat that was dear to your heart and after looking around you decided that asking an employee would probably be more efficient than looking around. So, you grabbed the attention of the closest one to you and asked where the cat named Harvey went.

"Fortunately, Harvey was adopted! It was just yesterday too." The employee left with a smile on their face while a frown took over yours. Harvey felt like your personal cat. While you knew that he was at risk of being adopted every time you left the shop, you felt that because he was there the next time you arrived, meant that you both shared some sort of connection and that you both belonged together. But that is only wishful thinking.

"This is turning out to be a shitty birthday."

You didn't notice the concerned face that Bakugou wore as you read the menu. You already knew what you wanted, of course, you just like to see the drawings that cascade the menu. Mixes of pinks, greens, and oranges fill the menu in the shapes of vines, hearts, and roses.

"What can I get for you today?"

The voice of your waiter pulled you out of the trance that you were in. Looking at the male, you smiled as you noticed that he wore the signature cat ears that some employees choose to put on. Most don't but some do and it was cool to see that some of the employees put in the extra mile that makes you smile.

The smile that you showed the waiter made Katsuki bawl his fits a little. He took a quick look at the menu and interrupted the small moment by ordering.

"Get me a BL kitty with a black paw-ffee." (Get it? BLT but its BL kitty? No? Pawffee? Okay ill stop

He felt stupid for saying such childishly unfunny puns but he said it now, he can't take it back. The way you giggled made it worth it though.

You know he hated every second of it but he still did it. You thought he wasn't going to order anything or make you order for him but his stubborn nature took over. You turned to the waiter and told him what you wanted. After taking your menus, he strolled off to the back to tell the staff what you want but not before sending you a small smile.

Your face heated up a little bit as you went to go look down at your phone. Seeing that you were added to a group chat named "Bakugou & y/n sitting in a tree", you rolled your eyes and opened it and were overwhelmed with a bunch of text messages asking how it was going. You gave them a quick "it's going okay" before looking up to see that Bakugou has become a favorite for the cats. He had at least three on him in total. One brushing against his leg, one on his lap, and another on his shoulder. He mumbled about how big the one on his shoulder was but didn't move the fur ball. You took this opportunity to snap a picture and send it to the group chat, not noticing their text messages about the sketchbook. You muted the chat because the buzzing was becoming distracting and looked back up to see another cat that had moved against the blonde's leg.

"Damn firecracker, you gettin' all the pussy today." He looked up at you and scoffed, rolling his eyes before moving the cat on his shoulder down on the floor.

"Tell anyone about this and you'll be turned to ashes."

You decided not to tell him that their friend group already knows about the love he's getting. Knowing that it would be much funnier to watch the embarrassment as they bombard him when they get back.

Over the course of three hours, you both make conversation over anything. Training, homework, extra curricular's, your friends, previous birthdays, etc. You were both enjoying yourselves, to say the least. You shared some laughs, especially when Katsuki spat out his drink from how much sweeter it was than usual. Maybe you added some sugar in there while he was in the bathroom...who's to say? When you both finished eating you decided that it would be best to leave. The question was, who was going to pay the bill?

You tried and failed to pay for the entire thing but argued with him over splitting it. He couldn't take your nagging anymore so he agreed to split it with you. When you both got up, you didn't notice the 4,000 ¥ he slipped into your pocket with a small smirk. He knew you were gonna chew him out for it later but he couldn't care less.

The walk back to the dorms was slow. You both didn't want this day to end yet but you were both too afraid to express that to the other.

"I didn't like how that scummy waiter was eyeballing you. I was gonna punch his lights out if he kept looking."

This took you by surprise. Not only did this subject come out of nowhere but the possessive tone behind it made your heart flutter a bit and your brain confused.

"So what if he was looking at me? Not like I'm off the market." He stood dead in his tracks. Looking down at the ground with his hands in his pockets, messing with the loose thread that was in them.

You stopped a few feet ahead of him, looking back when you noticed that the second set of footsteps stopped.

"Kat-"

"So I just wasted my fucking time?!"

His tone was strong and aggressive, masking the hurt and dread that he felt inside.

"What are you talking about?" You were more confused than ever. Your stomach turned and your mind raced at what you could've said wrong.

"This whole thing. Me asking you to come to this stupid place as a fucking date. Just for you to say you want to fuck with a cat boy"

"Wait, date?" Your eyebrows came together and your hands started to shake as you thought about the word that just left his mouth. He was kidding. This was a joke right?

"Yea date you simpleton. Can't you read? Or are you too stupid to read my perfect handwriting?"

"Kat...I don't remember reading anything about a date in your drawing."

His eyes widened slowly as he realized that he both exposed himself and yelled at you for not knowing that this was a date. All because you didn't read his note.

"You're a moron. I put a note on the last page. You didn't fucking read it?"

You shook your head slowly as the beats of your heart began to go faster. This was a date? There was another page after the picture?

"I'm sorry. After I saw the picture I didn't look through the rest of it...guess I should've."

"Yea you should've."

He brushes past you and continues walking towards the dorms. All you could do was sit there in silence. Both shock and fear keep you from joining the blonde. Did you just fuck up your chances?

He stops after getting a few feet away from you and turns around, scoffing at the fact that you are not able to keep up with him.

"Are you coming dipshit? I'm not repeating what I said in that letter. Come read it for yourself."

You snap out of the trance you're in and jog up to where he is and join him in walking back to the dorms.

As soon as you got there, your four friends came up to you bombarding you with questions about how the date was and what you guys talked about.

"Wait- how did you guys know it was a date? I didn't even know."

They handed you the sketchbook. It was opened to the last page that you neglected.

Dumbass,

I guess you're not as bad as the other idiots we're acquainted with. You better read this shit because I am treating this as more than just friends hanging out. I know you like me. You can't even hide it well. But I guess I like your stupid ass too.

This made your heart flutter like he wrote the most beautiful poem for you. You turned around and saw the small blush that started to build on the blonde's face.

"Seems like someone isn't able to hide it anymore." He scoffs and crosses his arms, looking over to the side of him.

"If you would've read it in the first place then we wouldn't be in this situation. But you didn't because you're an idiot."

You walked over to him and caressed his arm gently, trying to alleviate the 'anger' that he was throwing at you. "I know. I'm sorry okay? I'm an idiot I will admit it." You decided to throw away your pride for a second so you can see that grin that he wears when you admit to him being right (which is very rare). It is a special grin that makes his eyes sparkle and his face light up a little. You hate that you have to say that he is right about something for it to show but you didn't care at this moment. You were happy that your feelings are out in the open and you want him to be happy too.

He looks past you to see the audience that was still there and grabs you by the arm to take you to his dorm. He still had one more present for you and he didn't want to have an audience while you both were having your moment.

Once you both were in his room, he flicked on the lights and you immediately heard shuffling. "Is there a rat in here or something dude?"

"After I just admitted my feelings to you, you're gonna call me dude?"

He chuckled and walked over to the source of the noise, picking up what seemed to be a carrying case for an animal...he didn't.

"Kat-"

"Open it. Don't argue with me."

And so you did. You opened the box to see your favorite cat stretching his legs out from being in the same position when he was napping just a few minutes ago. You called out his name and his eyes immediately darted to you, widening slowly as he realized who you were. He jumped out of the box and walked to you slowly, sniffing your arms before he crawled into your lap and sat there. Small tears ran down your cheeks at a rapid rate as you pet him, looking up at the blonde and whispering a quiet thank you. He nodded and knelt down, burning this moment into his brain forever.

"You're lucky you have someone like me around. Those shitty T-shirts could never compare to my amazing gift."

Your eyes roll at his comment, "The T-shirts weren't shitty, asshole. I thought they were cute. But, you and Harvey here are the best gifts I have ever gotten by a landslide. Best birthday ever."

The blush on the blonde's face grew. He was one of the best birthday gifts you've gotten?

"Of course I make a great birthday gift. Who wouldn't want me? Happy birthday, dumbass."

You decide to do something that you've been thinking about doing since becoming friends with the blonde. You move a hand to his face and kiss his cheek, quickly looking back down at Harvey to hide the embarrassment on your face.

"Thank you firework."

You caused this man to malfunction. The mix of the kiss and the nickname has sent his brain into overdrive. The only thing he could get out was

"Whatever ya idiot..."

[honeeslust]

Satoru Gojo | you cryin?

🖤 inspo for this comes from that slutty gif of Satoru in the box. I know well all collectively had… thoughts… but couple that with the ‘you cryin’ and yea… lets go!

🖤 WC 4100+

Could you imagine falling in love with someone like Satoru? The man can process anything coming his way faster than it can even be perceived. This is except when it came to falling for you.

That being said, he's not going to baby you into the supernatural three ring circus that is his life. That would be arrogantly irresponsible.

As soon as he knew you weren't going anywhere, he made a point to teach you to fear the dangers of his world as he understood better than anyone the cost of bearing such a burden. One of the first things he made sure you understood was how to be wary of the places that gave off a any kind of bad vibes.

But... it wasn't like you set out for this... but you know what they say about the curious cat...

An uncharacteristically frantic Satoru is losing his mind when you don't make it home at your usual time. It really could've only been about 10 minutes past the time you were due to be home but at the moment, none of his thoughts were logical. Not when he could almost immediately intuit the danger you'd found yourself in.

... Somewhere else

You're bound by your wrists to something sturdy above your head. Your body is so weak you can't even pick your head up enough to make out what it is you're tied to. Even after jerking around with all your might, the chains retaining you hadn't so much as budged.

It was hopeless. And now your murky vision has to be betraying you. Your surroundings were moving in ways it shouldn't.

And was that... a man just now?

Your eyes swept the area around you to find nothing but the dark empty expanse staring back at you. Every ounce of your energy having mysteriously been sapped from your body. Defeated by the onset of fatigue, your head hangs between your shoulders.

Shit Satoru. I fucked up...

Yea. You did sweetheart.

A voice echoes out from somewhere nearby, but every direction you turn in is still just an endless sea of black. Panicked, your words wisp out of you shakily.

Wha-?..who are you?

I'm Mahito...

The disembodied voice calls out to answer you as he figure slowly emerges from the shroud of darkness ahead of you.

Thanks for making this easy for me.

Why the hell am I here Mahito?

Isn't it obvious? Satoru! He'll come running for you. And when he does well... he's no longer gonna be a problem for us.

Your chains rattle against the reinforcement as you struggle to turn away from the foreign hand now clutching your face in a harsh grip. The entity winks at you. His hand is hot on your face, hotter than it should be. It makes your skin crawl and you flinch away in disgust.

Don't fucking touch me.

His lip draws under his annoyingly perfect teeth, as he looks you over pleased with your choice of costume.

Hah! Quite a mouth you got on you little angel. If only I could get locked in here with you, Im sure I could make a devil outta you.

Tch. Ooh. If only. you snide teasing him with a pathetic pout before you spit right in his beautiful face.

Wait. What did he mean...locked ? As in.. inside?

God-fucking-damnit!

Mahito swings his powder blue locks over his shoulder, breaking into a fit of maniacal laughter. He smears the wad of saliva from his face to lick it from his finger.

Fuck! Satoru's a lucky one.

You seem like you'd be so much fun.

Ah well. I'm sure you would've made a fine plaything. Its a shame I gotta leave you here now.

Too bad. So sad Mahito. Best be on your way, bitch.

Your body trembles, betraying the evil glare you aim in his direction. What he'd said before was beginning to sink in.

Locked in...

Fuck me!!

Mahito comes closer to you, making you flinch away.

I guess you're right. I'm sure he'll be here soon and I'm not trying to fight him...Even I know my limits.

He stoops in front of you, his bicolored irises flashing in delight as he reaches past your ear to play with the hem of your angel wing. Guess this is goodbye pretty one.

With that, retreats. Vanishing into the shadows leaving you stranded in the dreadfully cold loneliness. The accompanying darkness enclosing you doesn't help your nerves much either.

As if things couldn't get any weirder. A faint blue fog appears before you and seemingly moves toward you. It creeps closer and closer. Moving about unnaturally as it does so. A hand made out of bones materializes out of the cloud and then... more and more of them emerge. Entire skeletons. Swarming in around you until youre body is swallowed whole by the vapor.

...

Y/n......

Y/n. Wakeup.

Hmm? God Satoru what?

Baby. Wake up.

Your eyes flick open and you're ready to slap Satoru for waking you up before the sun when you didn't need to be.

But wait! This wasn't youre room, this wasn't even a place. You were as happy to see Satoru as you were horrified to see that you're still tethered to the chains from before.

You found quite a place to try and have a nap. Sweetheart.

You know I wasn't napping Satoru ... Now can you help!! you say yanking the chains.

Tsk tsk tsk. He admonishes with a shake of his head. I won't lie. This sucks

Yea it does. Help me outta these won't you.

Mmmm.

What do you mean mmm?

I mean... I did try and tell you....

You scoff rolling your eyes hating exactly how right he was. He told you. Time and time again. Halloween is the worst time to be out and about as a newly awakened sorcerer.

Ugh okay. Baby you made your point. You gripe putting on your best pout and jangling your chains in his direction. C'mon. Satoru let me outta this.

I don't think I will. Not until you answer me one thing...Why were you out here alone?

Because I wanted to be. I can handle myself just fine, thank you. You say proudly even though you knew that in your current predicament,  you looked at least 2 sizes too small to for the big shit you talked.

Oh you can huh? He exclaims bearing a crooked smile down at you. But did you ever happen to stop and consider what I said about Halloween.

No. I didn't. You lie.

Immediately. You're met with a look of disbelief.

You don't huh...?

He cocks his head to the side. Leaning over you to jostle your chains.

... You comfortable like this sweetheart? He says rubbing the side of your face suggestively.

You roll your eyes. You know I'm not.

So then tell me why? You're a fucking danger magnet. It follows you wherever you go. You know and you pull this shit?.

Satoru recalls the moments he spent panicking when he couldn't get a read on your energy.   And that was exactly what they had hoped for when they dangled the chance to save you in front of him. For the second time in his life, hes d walked into a trap.

He kneels on the ground in front of you,  and arm draped across his thigh, the other caesses the side of your face. Why would you risk it y/n?

You stare back at him, too stunned by the vulnerable look in his eye to keep your attitude. Does it matter?

The hell are you asking me right now? Yeah y/n it matters to me that you put yourself in danger.

Awwww. Satoruuu. Were you worried? You sing songed out, teasing him.

His ears burned red.

Shut it. But yes. Obviously I was Sweetheart.

Fiiiine. Fine. You say giving him a small smile. But for real Satoru...You taking me outta this or not?

He glances up over your head, sizing up the length of your chains. Yeah. I will...Once I figure this out.

What?

Oh yea. Guess it seems this place was designed to keep me from using my abilities. So we're trapped here until the people out side can figure out how to get us out.

You're kidding!

Nope.

Fuck. Your voice shakes as the panicking kicks in. What in the actual fuck am I supposed to do now? You ask when you notice him looking down at you.

But wait Sweetheart. I can't lie. You look good in this position.

Tsk...Boy! Don't start. Baby you have to get me outta this.

What?....I'm allowed. I mean baby, you had me going crazy. And now well...I feel like I need to take advantage of this interesting little situation we find ourselves in. Gimme a moment to appreciate you like this.

You glare at your boyfriend. No way this angel eyed menace meant that.

No you creep. You're crazy Satoru. Cmon.

You're so annoyed with your boyfriend but there a glint in his eye as he's staring down at you in your vulnerable state. The depth of those ocean eyes could drown you a hundred times over and right now there was a storm brewing behind them. He was truly enjoying the sight of you, twisting so feebly as if you really wanted to deny this could and would happen. This situation was completely fucked. Sure. But damnit if it wasn't the stuff good girls who keep their heads stuck in smutty books would cream over.

No...You're not seriously considering....

Why not? Baby you're so fucking hard headed.

You laugh.. Yeah and...?

A hard head will make for a soft ass. Every. Fucking. Time Sweetheart.

Why did that send a sneaky little quiver right to that spot? Oh right, cause no matter how screwed you might be. It'd be worth it to let Satoru have his way with you. His mean side is his sexiest side.

Now you'd pissed him off. Sure. But Satoru figures why fight about it when you could fuck about it.

I like you like this. All that mouth on you. No where to run off to... Shit. Why didn't I think of this?

Your complexion ripens under his gaze. God. You're loving this aren't you?

You have no idea.

He lowers himself to your eye level, giving you that cocky smile of his but his piercing stare emanates something more than just frustration. Could it have been a little bit of relief you saw in his eye?

Before you could figure it out, he kisses you. Long and hard, his hands encompass your face as if he couldn't let you go. Your cheeks burn in the palm of his hands as his tongue rolls around your mouth, the strokes of his tongue resonating between your legs in repeated pangs pleasure. He breaks away, pressing his fore head against yours.

You make me crazy y/n you know that don't you?

But I thought you liked a challenge Satoru?

Fair enough. But... I don't know..

He skims a finger down the front of your blouse before he pulls his eyes back to meet yours.

... There is only so much a man can take sweetheart.

He tears the thin fabric away with ease making you yelp in response. You stomach tightens, flesh bared and prickling with goosebumps.

But...

Shhh now. I think you like making me like this.  He quiets you, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

But Satoru I...

Any aht! Say the truth. It's just us here after all.

You're panting heavily staring at him with wide eyes.

Maybe... You hesitate, drawing your eyes to his lips, still rosy and wet from your kiss. Maybe it's fun to ruffle those perfect feathers of yours a little...

Is that right?

You shrug... Guess I can't help myself.

He slowly begins to reach his hand down to your waist, keeping his eyes fixed on yours as he does so.

The clatter of the chains reminds you where you are and for a moment, you question whether you can do this here.

I didn't mean to get snatched though. You call out in a weak attempt to make up for the stress you considered you might've put him through.

No you didn't... But here we are. Guess there's nothing else we can do except maybe this.

He tucks his fingers into the strap of your lingirie and snaps the tight band against your skin. You shiver, rattling the chains again.

Uh...Shouldn't we use our time more productively Satoru?

Yeah, I'm about to...Let me get these off you.

He tears at the suspenders keeping your wings attached and they fall the the ground. He rips open the white lacey bodice, leaving you in nothing but the tight thigh highs and gstring, and matching body harness up top

He's kneels before you, pressing his body between your legs. His palms brush softly up the sides of your thighs as he asserts himself over your body.

He glares down at you, his hand groping at the tented area of his pants.

I think it's time we make up don't you think.

You bring your foot up to his shoulder and nudge him away with a feeble kick. God, I cannot stand you.

I should be saying that to you.

Whatever.

Excuse me?

He leans in to press a kiss to the side of your neck.

Whatever Sat— the sudden use of his tongue in your favorite spot catches you off guard.

... What was that now sweetheart?

He asks boasting a cheeky grin as he continues to kiss his way further down your body.

His lips halt their movement right at your navel, granting you only a single moment of clarity. Your eyes open to see him giving you a dangerous look.

Now about that apology.

Your eyes opened wide. What apology? I've done nothing wrong.

No? He asks now trailing his fingers along the wet edge of your panties.

I am.

Your sure? He says looping his finger around the damp fabric and pulling it to the side.

Yes. I don-- ahhh you cried out tugging against your chains and tossing your head back.

His fingers lazily slip between your folds, effectively putting a stop to the sure tantrum you were about to throw.

He prods your clit with his thumb, biting down on his lip as he regards the pleasure overtaking your features.

I'm listening... He suggests slowly dipping his fingers inside.

Use your words baby. I'm gonna need that apology. C'mon. It's easy. Iiii— 

He croons teasingly curling his finger inside and pulsing it right against the spot he knew would have your toes curling in no time.

Your legs squeezed together around his arm making him laugh aloud while adding another finger. He begins to pulse them inside you.

Fuuuck Toru...

Yea I know. Say it baby.

Damnit. He's too good at this.

I'm sorry...fuck baby, right there. You squeel in satisfaction,  drool beginning to pool in your mouth as your core twisted tighter.

Hmmm. I'm not convinced.

Why don't you try again?

His fingers are rutting in and out of you.The warm enclosure wrings tight around them until you're spilling forth everything, mewling out how sorry you were.

He sets back onto his legs, looking down appreciatively at his little brat, trussed up and convulsing with pleasure when he gets an idea.

He lifts the hem of his shirt over his head a tosses them to the side. He reaches up somewhere over your head and you feel a yank on the chain. A sudden sound of shrieking metal fills your ears, jarring you back into your body.

Did he just???

Sato-?

You're dragged forward until your wrists are pinned into his chest, leaving you unable to unleash your barrage of verbal assaults at him.

You Fu-— your words are muzzled into his kiss and he groans, tightly grabbing the cusp of your ass in a grip that almost hurt. He punctuates the kiss with a sound smack to your rear.

He unlocks his lips from yours, and pushes against your shoulders, forcing a gasp out from your lips.

Satoru? You begged watching him wind the harsh metal chain around his fist. The metal grated against itself as he clinched it tight, giving the metal a yank until the steel bit down into your flesh.

You say your sorry Sweetheart...? Show me.

He was perfection. His slutty little waistline is accentuated by the way his hip jutted out to the he side. Your eyes dropped to the large print lying across his thigh and as mad as you were, your mouth watered.

He undoes his pants and lets them sag around his waist. He flips his dick out over the top and pumps himself slow.

Get it wet pretty girl... maybe I'll believe you. He says with a flick of your chain.

You bent forward, ass hiked up to his liking so he could palm your cakes like a basketball. You brought the swollen head of his dick between your lips, and moaned over him as his fingertips dug into the right spot of your skin.

Hes impressed his little angel doesn't immediately gag on his cock, hes fascinated even. You're so slutted out for him that you forget that he could've freed you at any moment.

Never mind that youre now trapped in this place with minimal hope of escaping. Your minds put all of that aside to focus on the singular object of your affection and the way he helps you along, hands free, he guides himself in and out of your mouth. Keeping a taut hold on your chain as you bobbed back and forth on your elbows. throating every inch of his cock like a glove.

Are you really sorry ?

Mmnmnnmmmngghgg

Ahh. baby... Teeth!

He shudders feeling your garbled apologies vibrating along the tight corner in the back of  your throat where his length was now comfily housed.

Fuck y/n. You can do better than that can't you?

Lemme hear it? You sorry or not?

He's so mean about it. Fuck! it makes you wet. It makes you want to sacrifice your breath just to choke on him more.

His body tenses as all the blood rushes to the same spot. He bucks out of your mouth before he can release into the back of your throat.

You're still not making me think you mean it.

Don't you wanna show me?

I do! I meant it Satoru.

He places his fingers under your chin and presses his thumb against your puffy wet lips.

Yea?

A smile pulls at his lips. He believes you. But hes greedy for more of this. He knew that eventually he could fuck the act right into your hard headed ass.

Mhmmm. Alright. Guess I gotta fuck a proper apology outta you... Don't I?

Turn over!

You're body obeys before you've even registered what's happening. He knees your legs apart, pulling back on the chain to hear the way you yiped out. Somehow he's got you hunched over on your knees, your hands held back by your new leash.

Please Satoru.

Tsk. Oh sweetheart. You know thats not what I wanna hear.

I'm sorry baby...

Your knees are burning from all the time spent on them, but it doesn't matter. Your pussy glistens with your arousal for him and the wet hole is repeatedly clenching in wait. You need him as bad as the air in your lungs, maybe more.

The honored one slaps your ass. hard. The bite brings tears to your eyes.

Ahh. I'm sorry. Satoruu. Fuck.

Manners baby.

SLAP.

Baby I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Ohh god please. I need to feel you.

Your flesh stings with another sound slap to the other side causing a your walls to clench tight around nothing. Fuck! It aches so good that your toes curl.

He could feel the heat emanating from your body. He could even see the heavy glow of pleasure as it surrounds you. Even in this dark dank place youre golden aura shines bright in his all seeing eye.

He aligns himself and pushes a few prepatory nudges inside you. Tensing his jaw, he grumbles through clenched teeth until he's buried the full extent of himself inside you.

You welcome the stretch with a drawled out moan, thank you.

Thats my girl.... Won't save you though.

The emphasis of his words are punctuated with a sharp thrust forward.

Ssss, starting to feel like you sorry angel. Keep it up and maybe I'll let you out of this. He brags yanking back as he brought his hips back against you ass to make you sink your nails into the terrain beneath you.

He moves back and forth. again and again... Each time plunging deeper until you were squirming away. He's so deep you can taste the blisssul release creeping up on you. Its sweeter than nirvana, the feeling of him colliding somewhere inside that makes you forget what you're even sorry for.

He's bullying your cunt with a brutality you've never felt. He's beside himself, watching his cock disappearing inside you again and again. You're unable to flee from the shock as he's tugging on your new chain leash.

I want to protect you.... you need to let me!

Ok. Yes Satoru yes. You're whining, inching yourself forward for a moment of relief. There's just absolutely no way your body can take the pleasure he's forcing upon you.

Awww baby, quit your running. You wanted this didn't you? You like to ruffle these perfect feathers? Thats what you said right?

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you wail, twitching pathetically as he draws back and returns with a resounding pound that all but knocks your lights out. You're blissfully cock drunk, the wetness leaking down out over the base of his cock.

It's like he's saying it over and over and over.

...love... you...

... protect.... you.

You can't move, you can't think, you can only feel him fucking his frustration right into you.

Let me... baby....Am I understood?

Yes Satoru. Yes.

Lemmie hear you! Say it again!

Satoru—- Please... Ohhh I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, you scream out letting that dick turn you into groveling mess.

Satorus entire body quivers at the sight of your ass clapping against his skin as he picks up the pace.

Are you? I cant hear you.?

Say that shit like you mean it!.... Say it!

He's being mean and he knows it. But he needs you weak. He needs you broken. He needs you to quit putting yourself in harms way because he wouldn't know what to do without you.

everything you put him through resonates with the pleasure hes giving. You're right where he wants you, so his palm slaps harshly across your ass, his continued unmerciful thrusts knocking loose every screw in your brain.

Baby I am. I swear. Im so so so so sorry!

He yanks, dragging you back against him hard. He traps your arms in a tight lock behind your back and slowly rolls his hips to etch himself deeper. Imprisoning you in his arms, he growls lowly in your ear.

I don't believe you.

He forces you back over, this time pushing your chest to the floor. You're vibrating on the brink of an insidious rapture. Skin clapping against skin. Him tuggeong on your leash to to keep that arch the way he likes it. His pace is unrelenting. Like he was dead set on making you feel how crazy you made him.

You beg and you beg feeling the sloppy trails of arousal leak down the inside of your thighs. You'll say anything, do anything, BE anything for him. He has to know that. But still, he's unrelenting.

What's left of your voice creaks out in a whine.

So so so so sorry daddyyyy ohhhhh.

The moniker spills from your lips making him jolt with pleasure, spilling all kinds of his honored elixir into your trembling mess of a cunt. You're so full of him that your entire body spasms.

Daddy huh?

He likes it. It has a ring to he didn't know he needed to hear. Your clenched so tight he cant pull out. Fresh hot tears are running down your face and you look over your shoulder too distraught with your shattering to even speak to him.

He's gasping for the breath he takes. Beyond satisfied with your apologyas he blinks away the stars in his eyes. a wicked grin stretches across his lips when he sees the tears streaming down your face...

Wait!!. he chuckles, curling a portion of the the chain around either of his hands. He snaps the links and pulls your pleasure riddled body to him.

He clutches your chin between his fingers, and grins.

You cryin'??

@littlemochabunni @ryomens-vixen @biscuitsngravie @crescentmoontsuki @blkkizzat @thecookiebratz @residentfromnowhere @i-literally-cant-with-this @arlerts-angel

[wardenparker]

Sassenach and the Spaniard - ch 6

Pero Tovar x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​

Delirious with sickness and near to death, Pero Tovar finds himself on the doorstep of a village outsider who nurses him back to health just before the winter snows descend. With a black cat for company, a mask on her face, and a biting wit that intrigues him, Pero comes to find out that his new companion is more than what she seems.  ✨  Inspired and influenced by Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series. ✨ Reader is described as disabled and having hair long enough to cover part of her face.

Rating: Explicit! Word Count: 11.5k Warnings: **Blanket warnings for this fic include cursing, food mentions, references to previous sexual assault (multiple characters).** Spanking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, brief mention of infertility, very brief mention of domestic abuse. So much fluff and planning Summary: As the winter deepens, a visit from Arwena and Briac paves the way for big changes on the horizon. Notes: I will never get enough of this little family 💖✨

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5

It takes Pero a moment to realize where he is when he wakes up. The warmth and weight of a body pressing against him is unusual, though welcomed when he realizes why you are draped over his chest. Your legs are still tangled together and it’s possibly the most peaceful he has ever felt since he had left his father’s home. Your eyes are still closed, lashes brushing your cheeks and he twists his neck so he can watch you, the arm around you pulled tight to keep you close to him.

You wake slowly when the man-shaped cushion you have been laying on shifts, making a disgruntled little noise at first before your eyelids flutter softly and start to open. Being much warmer than usual would be a mystery, except your fingertips are resting in a sparse patch of chest hair and your legs are tangled in his. There is no mystery here – except maybe for how you possibly feel so much for this man so fast. “Mmm…” The pleasant hum rises from your chest. “Sleep well?”

"Better than I ever have." His voice is raspy, sleep heavy even though he had only slept for a few hours. They were more restorative than the week of sleep he had when you had nursed him back to health. "How did you sleep?" He noticed you didn't turn away from him, or cover your face while you slept, something that had made him smile.

“Sweetest dreams I’ve had in ages,” you promise him, placing a kiss over the nearest bit of his skin you can reach.

His chest rumbles happily and his hands start to roam over your skin, possessive and explorative. He will touch you until you tell him to stop and not feel a moment's guilt over it.

“Ready to go again now that you’ve rested?” It draws an almost filthy giggle from you, and you dart your tongue out to flick across his nipple with a grin. You’ve been voluntarily celibate for years – a bit more fooling around sounds perfect.

Pero groans, flinching slightly because he's never had someone touch his nipples before. It's strange but it's not something he would mind you doing again, especially since he spent so much time on your breasts. "What do you have in mind, hermosa?"

“When you thought of me…” The smirk you aim at him is gleeful and teasing. “Last night, I mean. How did you dream of having me?”

He narrows his eyes at you, knowing you are teasing him. His huff would be more impressive if the heat wasn't rising up in his cheeks, flushing his chest a darker color. "We have done a good job of recreating it, woman." He grunts, his hand gripping your ass roughly. "But I want you on your hands and knees."

“One of my favourite ways to be.” He won’t be tender about it and you don’t want him to be, relishing the fact that the universe gave you a soulmate who understands that rough does not mean violence, but need.

His cock is already hard, already bouncing when he clamors to his knees. He can't help but reach out and swat your ass when you are ready for him, the curve of your cheeks beckoning for his hand, and he gives into it.

It earns him a moan from your lips, and you sway your hips a little as you look back at him over your shoulder. “You can do it harder than that, amor. I know you can.”

He growls your name, a quick, wolfish grin on his face. His hand connects with more force, this time the sound makes Binx's head pop up from his basket in the corner near the hearth.

The indignant sound your cat makes shouldn’t be as completely hilarious to you as it is, but you practically snort with laughter as Binx makes annoyed eye contact with you before settling down again. “Don’t look at me like that,” you huff to your familiar. “I like it.”

"Gato." Pero huffs in annoyance before he rubs your skin that he had just smacked. "Do you want another? Or shall I make your pet think I am killing you with my cock as you scream?"

“Can I have both?” Grinning over your shoulder at him, you can’t resist wiggling your hips again. He looks feral and greedy from where you are and you want nothing more than for him to act on it.

His hand strikes your ass again and again. At least four or five harsh slaps against your skin. Until you are whining and rocking your hips forward. "Enough, Sassenach?"

When you nod it’s nearly frantic, moaning without restraint as you angle yourself toward him like an offering. “Fuck— Pero, por favor.” You’ll happily beg for his cock just to satisfy him, but in this moment it’s not for show at all. It’s just how badly you want him.

He spits into his hand, knowing you are wet, but you are not wet enough. Smearing it over his stiff length and rolling back the skin as he shuffles forward. Pressing against your entrance and grabbing your hips to hold you steady while he thrusts forward and fills you.

With no one to hear you - no roommates, no neighbors - you don’t hold back. Pero splits you open in the best way possible, making you feel like he might bend you in half to get the perfect angle for fucking you absolutely brainless.

There is something about your cunt that has him addicted from the start. He growls, hunching over you and pushing your hips down to get the angle that he wants, the one that has you seizing up around him and gripping him like a vice. "Fuck." He spits when he finds it and cunt clenches down around him.

This is it. This is how you're going to spend the winter. Every time he snaps his hips forward and makes you cry out you're all the more certain of it. You'll happily be naked and ready for him anytime and there is no doubt in your mind that he will do the same if you ask. Every thrust is ecstasy, and you rock back to meet him with enthusiasm.

He's never had a woman fuck him with such enthusiasm, such eagerness. He groans and his fingers dig into your hips, leaning down to flatting his chest against your back so he can reach your ear. "Such a tight little cunt for me, Sassenach." He rasps into your ear. "I want to feel it squeeze me tight again. Hear you cry out my name."

"Want you to fill me up this time." With the way your cheek is pressed to the mattress you have to be a little extra loud, but you would scream for the entire village to hear if he wanted you to.

Pero snarls, his cock twitching deep inside you and his hips stutter for a thrust before he starts to fuck into you with a frenzy.

It's inelegant, demanding, sloppy, and ferocious - and it's absolutely glorious. The pace is frantic but if either of you misses a beat the other is there to pick it up again, until you're groaning through gritted teeth on the verge of falling apart at the seams. You'll have bruises from this encounter, and you'll wear them proudly, the imprints of his fingers in your hips will last until he multiplies them with another hard fucking just like this one and you cannot wait.

"I— you need to cum." Pero groans, his eyes closing and he feels himself get desperately close. He peels himself off your back and his hand pushes between you, reaching under your splayed open legs so he can rub your clit.

"Fuck." The hard press of his fingers against your slick, swollen nub sends you reeling, following his demand within seconds. Your legs shake with the effort of staying upright, your body wanting nothing more than to collapse against the mattress but needing him to follow you over the edge before that happens. "Fuck, fuck— Pero!" It's his name on your lips when he strikes inside you at the perfect angle to tear you apart, soaking his cock in a flood of cum.

Pero shouts, following you over the edge the moment that you are soaking his cock. Pushing his cock deep inside you and gasps at how good it feels as he starts to fill you up. Ropes of his seed painting your womb with a heavy flood of pleasure.

"Holy shit." A disbelieving giggle bubbles from your throat as you nearly collapse, body sagging under the hardest fuck you've had in more years than you can remember.

Pero slumps against you, keeping his cock buried inside your warmth while he kisses along the back of your neck. "Fuck." He agrees softly, lips pressing against your skin over and over again. You clench around him again and he hisses softly.

"So fucking good," you hum, enjoying the aftershocks of that last orgasm that he fucked you through as he filled you with the cum that is starting to leak out of your cunt.

He softens and starts to slip out of you, making him shift to the side and flop down beside you and his hand slides over your back. "Now are you satisfied?" he grunts, like he had not been just as desperate for you.

"For now." The grin you flash him is teasing all over again, but you settle into his arms easily when he offers you a place there. "I have a feeling we will be disturbing Binx many more times before this storm has ended."

He chuckles when the cat meows loudly from his bed, as if agreeing that you had disturbed her. "We could always put the gato with the horse and chicken." He huffs teasingly.

"Binx would riot." And probably, you would too. Your familiar is a part of you that you cannot deny, especially here where your magic is so much stronger. "Perhaps I will learn to conjure plugs for her small ears."

"The cat does not bother me." He promises, pulling you close. "We can hang a curtain for privacy if you wish or I can make a screen."

"If we need it, a screen will work." No curtain in the universe has ever contained a determined cat, but right now you don't even care. Binx can stand there and watch and it won't stop you from fucking Pero to your heart's content.

"I do not care." He insists. "I have not been sharing my space with the gato, so I will pay no mind to it seeing me fuck you." He huffs. "As long as it does not take my balls for yarn to bat around."

"Definitely not." Dropping a kiss on his skin, you tip your chin up to look at him and smile. "We will not lack for exertion this winter."

He grunt and smirks at you. "It will be good, I will not worry about getting too fat for my armor doing nothing but laying around and eating."

"You will certainly not." Not if fucking like that is going to be a regular thing. You groan a second later though, and pout with a huff. "I should check on supper. Make sure it does not burn." You should, but you're not exactly sure that your legs will work just yet.

He grunts and his hand slides over your ass as he squeezes again. "Use the chamber pot and I will stir your stew." He offers. He knows you must need to piss and he needs to add wood to the fire anyway.

Grateful for the reprieve, you manage to steal a kiss before he lifts himself off the mattress and you both take care of the business that is required. Binx leaves her basket to sit in the window for a while, watching the snow fall while you tug your chemise back over your head just to keep warm.

Pero follows your lead, pulling on his breeches and shuffling over to the fire to stoke it before he adds more wood. Humming happily at the cherry red coals that instantly catch the dry tinder on fire and immediately adding warmth. Turning his attention to the stew, he stirs it with the wooden spoon, watching the ingredients float around in the slowly simmering broth. "It looks good." He tells you over his shoulder.

"Good." The other thing that looks good is his ass from this angle, but that's just you being a horny bastard. "What shall we do while it finishes?"

“What do you normally do?” He asks. He knows what he wants but he doesn’t want to make you feel like you are some kind of spectacle.

"If you were not here I might sing to Binx or prepare herbs for tinctures that are useful during the winter. I might embroider something very poorly if I am bored enough." You shrug a little, crossing your legs on the mattress and leaning on your knees. "None of it is exciting."

“What about your spells? Your magic?” He asks curiously. “Do you practice it?”

"I do." Tilting your head at him, a small smirk crawls across your face until it becomes a grin. "Would you like to see your bruja at her work?"

The comment Pero wants to make is sarcastic, biting, but he doesn’t know if you would take it as the jest he would mean it as. So instead he nods, putting on his most unimpressed face. “Show me your magic, wench.” He orders playfully.

Sitting in your chemise on the end of your bed, you flash Pero a grin and put out one hand, summoning the crackling ball of flame that he had seen you conjure once before. The sun is starting to go down already and it will be helpful to have the extra light, so that is the very first thing that you do. "You have seen this before, but it is simple and useful."

“Damn useful.” He grunts, stepping closer to you and the ball of fire and reaching out to feel the warmth of it, but there is none. His eyes widen and he looks back at you in astonishment. “It does not burn?”

"No." You shake your head and smile at the wonder in his expression. If you were better at physics maybe you could explain why, but probably not in words that he would understand. "It will give us light without the danger of fire. But the fire is necessary so we do not freeze."

He grunts and looks back at the flames hovering in the air. “Next you will tell me that you heat without fire in your time.”

"We do." And the fact that he's grumpy about it only makes you grin. "We have heat and light without fire in every home, and chamber pots that empty themselves after every use."

“Bruja.” He huffs, but there is no heat behind his comment. He cannot imagine that, but it seems very easy. “It would be nice to not smell piss or shit when the pot is full.”

"What would you like to smell?" It's a weird question, you admit that, but it's a little bit of a chance to show off.

He doesn’t know, never really thought about too many smells. Unless they were rotting and making his stomach churn. “What is your favorite smell?” He asks, wanting to know what you would pick.

"I used to wear perfume." It seems like eons ago that you would make trips to Sephora for make up or perfume or those fancy skin care products that made you feel as glamorous as the women in magazines or on tv. "It smelled like citrus fruits and roses and something woody and warm...but I cannot remember it exactly anymore. I just remember that it made me feel like something divine and luxurious."

“Could you make it smell similar to that in here?” He asks, looking around and wondering if you would need your spices or if you could make it happen like the flame.

"I can try." It would be the most complex scent you've ever attempted, but it's not like you think you're going to be able to replicate the exact smell of Miss Dior inside this tiny cottage. Instead you'll aim for the closest that you can. Closing your eyes and concentrating on the memory of the scent itself, letting it swirl around in your memories until you can almost smell a whiff of lemon and blood orange in the air. Counterintuitively, conjuring scent makes your fingers tingle, and as you concentrate on adding the smell of fresh summer roses to the spray of citrus you can almost feel the vines and thorns pricking at your skin. The smell of the woods is easy, having lived in it for years now, and something itching at the back of your mind reminds you of the vivid pink of the perfume in its elaborate glass bottle and suddenly everything feels brighter and more tangible. It can't be seen, but it's like a soft breeze wafting through the cottage that almost smells like twenty-first century perfume, and that is remarkable in and of itself.

Pero inhales deeply and groans at the delicious scent. “You smelled like this? All the time?” He closes his eyes and just drinks it in. “You would have tired of me pinning you down and fucking you all the time.”

You can't help but laugh, opening your eyes to see him looking nearly drunk on the smell. "It's not quite right," you admit, grinning anyway. "Perhaps one day I will perfect it. But yes. This is close."

“It smells like heaven.” Pero whispers, still savoring the scent with his eyes sliding closed.

"Men's cologne can be even better." Imagining Pero cleaned up and spritzed with cologne like a grumpy, dreamy snack of a man makes you hum. His brow furrows, not quite understanding but he assumes you mean a scent for a man. He hums, wondering if you would like such a thing. “Can I show you?” It won’t be perfect, just like the scent of your perfume wasn’t, but you can at least try.

"Sassenach...." Pero crosses the few steps between you and reaches for your waist, squeezing gently. "You can do whatever you want around me." He hums seriously but he does flash a small grin. "Unless you want to turn me into a toad."

“You know I’ve never actually done that?” The visual in your mind’s eye makes you grin, though, and you take the opportunity of having him close to steal a kiss. “I promise I will not turn you into a toad, amor.”

He snorts, pressing his lips to yours and gives you a lopsided smirk. "I believe you, but I'm sure your gato would love to chase me around and bat at me with its paws as if I were a plaything."

“If you were meant to be batted around by my cat, I would turn you into a mouse,” you tease, grinning at the look of disgruntled horror on his face. “You worry too much, Pero Tovar. I have little skill in transfiguration.”

He blows a raspberry at you, a grumpy look on his face but he nods towards you. "What is this scent you were talking about?" He grunts. "As if I could smell sweeter."

“Sex is a very good smell.” You can agree to that, and you grin to yourself as you close your eyes again to concentrate - seeing if you can recall the scent of your favourite cologne with any clarity. Pine needles and a hint of vanilla and something woodsy…and maybe cedar? It’s a less distinct and less focused conjuration, but the air wafting around you turns from citrus and rose to this distinctly more masculine brew in just seconds and you hum happily at your reasonably successful attempt to duplicate it.

Pero sniffs, not offended by the scent but it's not nearly as enticing as the previous one. It's earthy and smells like the woods, obviously something you would enjoy. He lifts a brow and smirks slightly. "So you like when I come in from gathering wood, Sassenach?"

He's right, of course, but it's like you never quite put the two together before and you end up laughing lightly. "Yes. I suppose that I do."

He grunts, leaning in and dragging his mouth over your neck, the scent still filling the space between you. “Men wear that scent to make a woman think about them? To imagine them between their thighs? Buried in their cunt smelling like that?”

It doesn't matter that he was just buried inside you twenty minutes ago, your whole body reacts to the tingle of his lips on your skin and that soft growl in your ear, flooding your system with instant arousal. "Y-yes."

He can feel your breathing change, his cock twitching in interest but he still needs more time to recover from his last release. “Interesting.” He growls, kissing your pulse and pulling back with a smirk. “Maybe we should try that next time.”

You groan slightly, watching the amusement on his face at your reaction, and just have to laugh at yourself a little. A couple of years without sex has made you absolutely ravenous for it. For him. For your soulmate. "Maybe we should."

“I am not used to much sex.” He admits. “I do not find much privacy for— uh, pleasure with my hand so I ignore it.”

"I do not mean to overwhelm you." Making him uncomfortable is the last thing that you want. You can rein in your horniness for his sake, there's no question about that.

Pero snorts and shakes his head. “Do not pull back.” He orders swiftly, not wanting you to be ashamed of wanting him. “It is very nice to be eagerly wanted.”

"Very eagerly," you huff a little, laughing at yourself. "It is new, and exciting, and I...I am glad that we are here together."

Pero grins. “You mean being snowed into your cottage, cozy and warm with nothing to do but fuck the hours away?” He asks, his hand trailing down to your ass again. “Teaching me how to pleasure you?”

"Snowed into our cottage." The correction may seem small, but you want to make sure he knows that the time of him being a guest here has passed. "It will be an indulgent winter."

“Yes it will.” He agrees. “You can tell me more about your home. Your time.”

"And I want to hear about your adventures. Your travels." Of course it isn't all glamorous. In fact most of it is probably not. But it made him who he is and you want to know him as well as you can.

He grimaces slightly and shuffles in embarrassment. “Even if it is not honorable?” He asks quietly, sure that most of his ‘adventures’ as you called them, are not the noblest.

"Even then." Nodding gently, you reach out to grasp his hand and thread your fingers together. "The things you have done have made you the man you are. And that is the man that is in my heart as well as my bed."

The tension he didn’t know he was holding relaxes, his shoulders settling down and rounding slightly in relief. “Yes.” He breathes out. “I can do that.”

"You never need tell me things that hurt you to remember." As much as you want to get to know him, you don't want to trigger anything that might be traumatic for him in the process.

“My past is my past.” Pero shrugs and wonders why you would say that. “It happened, I moved on.”

"Then I will listen to whatever you want to tell me." You promise him, understanding that he would most likely not tell you anything at all if he did not find it helpful or necessary.

He looks at the bathtub and hums. “So now that you have been naked in front of me, do you want to rewarm the water and soak like you should have?”

"Two baths in one day?" The absolute luxury of it makes you hum, and you flash a grin at him. "I am covered in cum, so it might be a good idea."

He chuckles and nods. “And I will get to stare at you in your bath like I imagined when I was bringing the buckets of snow in.”

"Perhaps we could even see if we fit in together?" If it's too small then it's too small, but you would love the chance to ride Pero in that bath.

“We can try.” Pero is skeptical but he moves over to the tub to bail out a bucket of water to put in the other pot to warm back up.

"If not, I will simply have to ride your cock in bed." You tell him matter-of-factly. "It will still happen."

Now that he knows why you want him in the bathtub with you, there is a bit more urgency to his movements. A haste that hadn’t been there before.

Laughing when you see him start to move faster, you get up from the edge of the bed and move across the cottage, scooping Binx up out of her basket and snuggling her into your chest to plant kisses in her fur. The sleek feline rankles in annoyance at first but settles down as you start to hum a quiet melody, singing to her while Pero warms up the bath.

There is something soothing about the way that you cuddle to your cat and sing to it. It’s homey and it reminds Pero of his mamá singing as she went about her chores. It is a shame you cannot have babies of your own, you would be good with them, but you show your maternal side through your healing and your care for your pet.

"If I had wings like Noah's dove...I'd fly the river to the one I love...Fare thee well, my honey fare thee well..." The soft song is easy to sing and Binx has always seemed to like it, and you sway around the room with her purring happily in your arms.

Pero listens to your sweet voice as he works, wondering how it would be if you had a babe in your arms. He doesn’t often think of things like that, but if anyway deserved it, it would be you.

Binx likes folk music for some reason, but it’s easy to sing and soft, melodic in your untrained voice, and she is calm as an angel when you put her down in her basket again. “I should learn new songs now that someone else is here to hear them,” you joke, noticing Pero has been listening.

“You sing whatever makes you and your gato happy, amor.” He murmurs softly.

The term of endearment makes you smile, and your pace back over to him with a soft expression of affection on your face. If this is what the winter has in store, it will quickly become your favorite season.

******

It had been nearly two weeks of isolation. Everyday Pero shovels out a path to the barn and to the woodpiles. The skins of the animals he has trapped in the snows are frozen, the meat keeping your gato and even the chicken well fed. The cottage is warm and cozy, the bed even more so. The two of you laying curled around each other most days and learning each other’s bodies like no other.

The words of love are second nature now, small touches coming comfortably and the teasing always ending with a kiss. The domesticity of it was swift to set in, and you would not trade it for the world. This morning is the first with warm sun in weeks but it isn’t quite enough to rouse you from your place in Pero’s arms until the clattering of a cart outside joins the song of winter birds.

“Who?” Pero cracks an eye open and groans. “It must be the whelp.” He huffs, only slightly annoyed that he had come. Mainly because he will have to put clothes on. He has gotten used to walking around your cottage naked for you to enjoy the sight.

“We should get dressed.” Joyful as your young friends might be to see you together, you will not be so unkind as to get them in nothing.

“It would teach them to stay away,” Pero grumbles even as he is reaching for his pants. “Put some wine on to warm, they will be cold.”

“You will be very sad to have scared them off when they are the ones who bring you cheese,” you remind him, grinning broadly as you pop out of bed to pull on your chemise and tunic.

“If he brought me more cheese.” He grunts, although he does look a little more cheerful at the prospect of a food delivery.

“I am sure he did.” The knock on the door comes only a moment later and you barely manage to throw your tunic over your head in time. Bedhead be damned, you’ll just tie your hair back with the leather string Pero had handed you weeks ago.

Pero is the one that opens the door and ushers the kids inside. “Come, sit by the fire and warm up.” He orders the kids as he bars the door and moves over to the built the fire up.

"You both look well." Arwena practically throws her arms around you when you stand up from pouring the remainder of a small cask of wine into a pot for the fire. "Our apologies if we have intruded but we brought a few supplies," her smile is even broader than yours, threatening to overtake her face. "And wonderful news."

“News?” Pero’s eyebrows shoot up and he looks over at where Briac is beaming like a proud lad who just popped his cherry. “You fill her belly already?”

"Not yet." In fact, Briac had been extremely careful and followed all of the guidelines about safety that you had set down to Arwena, and Arwena herself had been drinking the contraceptive tea blend that you made for her faithfully each day.

"We're soulmates!" Arwena is bursting with the news, clinging to your hands and looking every ounce as proud as Briac. While she isn't glad of how they realized the fact – the wound from her father’s last beating leaving a scar on her back –  she is ecstatic to find that her love is ordained by God.

“Damn.” Pero shakes his head, a smile pulling at his lips as he walks over to the boy and holds out his hand to him as a man. “Congratulations.”

Briac is glowing at the simple act, and Arwena is nearly vibrating as she hugs you. "We are now even more determined to be married soon," she tells you and Pero both. "Surely my father cannot object when God has chosen my husband for me."

Pero snorts, knowing that from what he has heard, that would not change his mind. He is the type that his word would be more important than God’s. He squeezes Briac’s hand and claps him on the shoulder. “You are still practicing, yes?”

“Every day.” The boy has doubled the amount of hours he puts in, striving to push himself and become stronger and faster. “I think you will find me much improved.”

“We will see.” Pero smirks and then looks between the two. “Something was said about supplies?” He asks, knowing they will have to unload first since it’s so cold outside.

“The cart is outside the door.” Briac nods, springing into action immediately. “Ale, cheese, and some fresh bread from the baker. It went straight out of the oven and into Arwena’s hands.”

“Fresh bread.” Pero groans at the thought and reaches for his cloak. “Come, we will let the women talk.”

“You are glowing, Wena.” As soon as the door shuts behind the men, you usher the girl to the bench by the fire smile warmly. “You have been well? Able to see Briac?”

“Yes.” She bites her lip and sends you a sly look. “I’ve been sneaking away and spending afternoons with him. My mother thinks I am in prayer.”

“Well,” you laugh, unable to stop yourself. “You are certainly speaking to God. Just not the way she thinks.”

Arwena smirks slightly and notices that the mattress Pero had been sleeping on is nowhere to be seen. “And it seems like all is well here.” She comments, also surprised to see that you have your hair pulled back. She heartily approves.

“The storm gave us time to talk.” You smirk, knowing that she now understands how much more than talking you have probably been doing. “To fall in love with one’s soulmate is a wonderful privilege, and I am glad that we have both had it.”

“Love?” Arwena whispers happily, her eyes shining bright for you. “Oh Sassenach, I am so happy for you. You deserve it. Is he— he is kind to you?” She feels like you wouldn’t accept anything less, but she wants to make sure.

“He is.” She looks so overjoyed that you’re proud of her for thinking critically and asking an important question instead of simply accepting what she was told. Her growth and clever mind are not to be overlooked. “We have been very happy these last few weeks.”

“Good. Briac had been eager to come out and see you. He has missed training with your soulmate.” She grins. “His father found him practicing and he approves as well.”

“I am glad to hear of it.” Scooping two cups of warm wine out of the pot of the fire, you hand one to Arwena and sip from the other yourself. “We have missed your company. It is good to see you so happy, Wena.”

“Come spring, we are leaving.” She confides with a hint of mischief. “We would like to start fresh and live where no one knows my father.”

“That is a very brave thing for you to plan, if you are truly ready for it.” Instantly, you wonder if letting them go on their own is really wise – but Arwena isn’t your family, no matter how much you adore her. She isn’t your sister or your daughter or your niece or anything like it. Not even your ward. Only your very dear friend. “Have you chosen where yet?”

“Not yet, but we are thinking across the sea.” She admits, taking a sip of her warmed wine and sighing. “Perhaps you could steer us in a pleasing direction?”

“Come springtime, Pero and I may be traveling north,” you admit, sitting back against your worktable when Binx jumps up to come and sit between you and your guest. Two people to pet her is better than one. “It would be safer to travel in numbers.”

“We could travel with you?” Her eyes are wide and hopeful. “It would give Briac time to learn more from Pero before we part ways.” Secretly, she wishes that all four of you could settle somewhere together, but she is practical.

“We will speak openly, the four of us, when the men come back inside.” Perhaps you won’t tell the teenagers everything, but enough. “You shall have friends to witness your marriage if you desire it.”

“That would be wonderful.” Arwena sighs happily, imagining someone being happy for her as she exchanged vows with Briac.

“There are many places to go where your father cannot reach you, but life will be difficult.” It’s important that Arwena and Briac understand what leaving will mean before they do it, but it is good that it can be you and Pero - people who care for them - to help them understand. “There is time enough between now and spring to be sure of your decision and to learn what you will need to survive. Our lessons will continue in earnest.”

Arwena nods. “I know life will be difficult, but it will be more so here. My father will still want to give me to his friends, and I will not make my soulmate sit by and watch that.”

“You are a very strong young woman.” You have thought so for years, but only in the last few months have you really seen how deeply in runs in her disposition. “And you know that we will continue to help you in any way that we can.”

“Thank you.” Arwena smiles at you and bites her lip before she leans in. “Briac said that Pero told him that he was to honor and cherish me. He does that but I think that it is very telling of your own honorable soulmate.”

“Pero is a good man.” And you will never say otherwise - you wouldn’t have even before you had fallen in love with him. “He greatly admired his father. I believe that advice comes from him.”

“His father must have been a very good man.” She murmurs wistfully. “Like I am hoping Briac to be to our children.”

“When you choose to have them, I am certain you will both be wonderful parents.” The sting it leaves in your heart is small, that you will never have the choice to bear your own children, but it is simply a fact of your life. Choosing not to dwell on it, you offer her a smile and sip your wine. “If you wish, I will teach you things you can do for the health of your babe when the time comes. It will be good to know them ahead of time.”

“That would be wonderful.” Arwena gushes in relief. “I am worried about such things.” She admits, biting her lip but she smiles at you. “Although with it being Briac’s, I would be brave.”

“There is reason to worry,” you won’t lie to her about that. “But there are things you can do to help the babe’s strength as it grows in your womb, and they are meant to help both you and the child survive. Birth will be very painful, Wena. But it will give you a wonderful blessing afterward.”

“I will take everything you teach me very seriously.” She promises. “I have— brought you something.” She whispers before she pulls a package out of her cloak and sets it on the table between you.

“That is so kind of you.” Your eyes drift between the package and Arwena’s face quizzically. “You did not have to bring anything specially, dear girl.”

“I think that you can use it more than my father could. He will not ever use it.” She rolls her eyes and grins as she nudges the cloth wrapped package towards you.

Looking between Arwena and the package does you little good as the girl is currently inscrutable. All you can do is now your head and pull the cloth wrapping back from the heavy package. “Wena…” Your gasp fills the cottage despite your hand going to your mouth. Inside the wrapped cloth is a heavy leather-bound book of - you discover - blank pages. Alongside it, a set of beautifully cut quills and a vial of ink powder have clearly never been used before. Everything is untouched, and looks to be extremely high quality. The kind of thing the magistrate might have been gifted but never know what to do with. “Sweet, sweet girl. They are stunning.”

“I know you would use them, and my father has had them for years.” She reaches out and touches one of the edges of the beautiful quills. “You deserve something to use your knowledge. You told me you can write.”

“I can.” Nodding, you carefully flip through the blank pages of the journal and offer her a smile. “I can write you the recipes of my tinctures and potions, and the things that will keep your future babies healthier in your womb. To take with you when we travel north.” A grimoire, is really what you are offering her, but you still have not revealed the complete nature of your magic to the girl.

“I did not mean for that.” Arwena protests softly. “I felt like you would enjoy being able to write.” She doesn’t want you to feel like you have to use it for her.

"I will enjoy it." It's an assurance, but it is also true. Keeping something for yourself is nice enough, but to be able to ensure Arwena is taken care of? That is far better, in your mind. "I will enjoy creating something that can be shared. Perhaps you will have a daughter to share it with one day, and she will know that her mother had a friend who cared for her very dearly."

Her sigh is soft and she reaches out to touch the back of your hand gently. “You are the greatest friend I could ever hope for.” She whispers softly. “I am eternally grateful that God send you to me.”

"I wished for my whole life to have a younger sister," you tell her honestly, turning your hand over to clasp hers tightly in both of yours. "Sometimes when you visit, or even when you were my pupil, it is a hopeful dream to think that she may have been like you."

“I wish that were true, but you are my sister in my heart.” She promises you with a bright smile. “And that is not something I take lightly.”

"Nor I." Ringing your arms around her, you are sitting and embracing Arwena tightly when the cottage door swings open to let your soulmates inside. Pero is carrying a barrel of ale that he sets along the far wall, and Briac is carrying a large sack full of other goods that he begins to unpack beside the ale. "All is well, gentlemen?" You flash them both a smile, glad to see that they have just been laughing. It is still etched on their faces.

“It is good.” Pero winks at you before he turns to Briac. “Go warm yourself with some wine before I test those skills you are bragging about boy.”

"In a moment." Beckoning for both men to join you, you sit apart a little just to let Binx between you and Arwena. "Arwena and I have something we would like to talk to you both about."

“Hmmm.” Pero moves over to the pot himself and ladles out two cups of wine before he walks over to the table. He takes your cup and gives you the new one before he takes a sip of the cup you had in front of you.

It's useless to argue that he was just outside in the cold so he should have the warmer drink - Pero will only insist on you having the small luxury anyway - so you just smile and sip your drink in peace. "Wena says that they intend to leave Brittony in spring," you tell him. "And I wondered if it might not be wise for the four of us to travel together, since we spoke of journeying to Alba when the weather turned warm again."

His brow lifts and he looks over at the two younger soulmates. He doesn’t miss that the wine cup he had set down in front of Briac is now in Arwena’s hand while the boy has taken her cup. He hums and considers it. “We will need to find more horses.” He tells them. “Six are best. One for each of us and two more to use for supplies.”

You nod in agreement with the number of horses, deferring to his much larger knowledge of long-distance travel. "It would hearten them to have friends present at their marriage, and if they wish to begin their life together away from this place, then we can be their friends as well as their family on that day."

Pero nods seriously. “Then we shall witness their marriage and lift our cups in celebration.” He promises. “It might be mead, in a tavern, with bad food.” He huffs with a small smile on his face, clearly joking.

"It could always be a shared occasion." Arwena pipes up hopefully, studiously avoiding what she is sure is a glare from your direction. "Two marriages brings God twice as much joy."

“That would be cruel of us to steal your day.” Pero shakes his head. “As soulmates, you should be the sole owner of the joy.”

"Then we will travel with you long enough to witness your marriage as you witness ours." Briac is apparently just as enamored of the idea as Arwena is and picks up the thread immediately.

"We have not spoken yet of marriage." You have to cut in. You have to. The younger couple will never let it go if you do not, and you don't want the conversation to escalate in any way.

Pero is quiet, watching you as you quickly speak up. He will follow your lead on this, not going to force his own ideas on you in any way. Instead he just looks at the two younger soulmates.

“But….” Arwena’s expression morph to confusion. “You said you love him.”

“And I meant it entirely.” You insist, feeling like a giant spotlight has been put over you. Pero saying nothing is not helping, and you swallow harshly. “I did not say it was impossible, only that we have not spoken of it yet.”

“Not all soulmates wed.” Pero speaks up after a moment, hating the look on your face. “Sassenach may not believe in marriage or want to be viewed as my property.” He had listened when you had told him about modern day views on love and life. He understand that there are major differences between the two and he doesn’t want you adhering to the customs of day unless you want to. “That does not mean that I would not stand before any sword for her.”

Right now you would kill for this cottage to have a second room - just anywhere else you could go to have a private conversation that isn’t a snow covered tundra like outside is. The kids have completely dropped a bomb on you and you just wish that you could talk it out with him instead of feeling like the center of unwanted attention. Because the truth is that you had spent your whole life not having a soulmate at all - and so just never really thought about marriage as a part of your future.

Briac frowns slightly, obviously not understanding. “You do not wish to wed her? To have children?” He asks Pero, shaking his head and the mere thought.

Pero shakes his head. “I did not say I did not wish to wed.” He reminds the boy. “But - it should be your soulmate’s decision as well. If I force her to wed me, does that make me better than the bastard that sired your soulmate?” He doesn’t mention what you had told him, your barren state is not for him to talk about with others.

“Until we have had a chance to speak of it ourselves, I do not wish to discuss it more.” It’s probably - definitely - harsher than you need to sound, but you feel a little panicked and genuinely aren’t sure what else to say. The only conversations that you’ve had about the future with Pero are about whether or not he will try to walk through the Stones with you — but if he does that, is that not an almost bigger acceptance of a life together than a medieval clasping of hands? Or is it the same in his mind? Do the two decisions even bare any resemblance to each other at all? You simply cannot tell anymore. “My apologies…it is…it is not a simple prospect to consider.”

Briac looks panicked that you are upset at him and quickly nods. “My apologies for speaking out on things that are not my place.” He offers, not wanting you to be cross with him or Wena.

“Enthusiasm is a virtue, Briac. All is well.” Causing the young man to panic with worry would not help anything, and it certainly wouldn’t make their next visit easier.

“I think we have warmed ourselves long enough.” Pero’s hand on his own thigh moves over to yours and he gives it a reassuring squeeze as he drains the last of the wine in the cup. “Let me see these skills of yours.” He flashes Briac a grin.

Watching the two men walk out the door again makes you feel like wanting to crumble, but Binx is at your side instantly, head butting your shoulder and meowing in a low, insistent tone. “Don’t you start with me too,” you tell the opinionated cat, smoothing her first under restless fingers anyway.

“What is wrong?” Wena stands and walks around the table to sit beside you and put her arm around your waist. “You can confide in me.”

“I know I can, dear girl.” The offer of comfort, though, is one you’re grateful for and you put your arm around her in turn. “I simply did not ever consider marriage a part of my future,” you tell her honestly. “For many years of my life I had no marks. No shared wounds at all.”

Wena frowns slightly, tilting her head in confusion. “How can that be? Pero is a mercenary. He must wear many scars from the years?” He must be better than good if he had not marked his body in battle.

“I did not have any marks until I came to this part of the world.” Clarity is everything here, and you shrug your shoulders. The actual explanation as to why would be too much to put on Arwena’s shoulders. “And then they appeared like wildfire. But still I had no expectation of ever meeting my soulmate. So marriage has always been far from my mind.”

“It must be different.” Arwena nods, not exactly grasping the entirety of it, but she squeezes your waist. “I am glad that you have found him. And that your confidence is showing.” She smiles. “Your hair looks very pretty tied back.”

“It is very different.” Though exactly how different should probably remain a mystery to her. “The world changes in mysterious and unexpected ways. Perhaps people come into our lives at the time they so for a reason.” When the most you can do is twist your fingers in your lap and nod again, you end up huffing at yourself. “And thank you. Pero—he— he prefers it this way.”

“He does not like to see you hide yourself.” She hums, very pleased that he is not opposed to your lack of sight in one eye.

“He is kinder than he thinks he is.” That is a commendation you can give easily. “And we do love each other.” As unorthodox as the situation is, it is still a happy one.

“That is good. You deserve it.” Wena doesn’t miss that the bath is still set up to the side of the hearth and she smirks. “I see you have been enjoying your tub. It is very sweet smelling in here.”

The laugh that escapes you is pure amusement. “It masks the smell of sex, then.”

Arwena giggles and gives you a knowing look. “Your advice has been very thoroughly used.” She admits, blushing furiously. “I— his touch is calming. I do not flinch away; I am eager for it.”

“Good. I am glad to hear it.” She had been so worried, so to hear that things are going well is a relief. “I will write the recipe for your tea in the book for you to keep, so that you may make it on your own. Being with child should be a choice, not forced upon you.”

“Briac will be relieved.” She confesses with a smile. “He wants to wait some time before we take the responsibility of children. We need to be able to feed ourselves first.”

“You are both much wiser than your years.” At their age, so many of their peers considered themselves full and capable adults that sometimes it alarmed you - your modern sensibilities still considered them kids, after all.

She beams at you and practically squirms in her seat at your praise before she looks towards your jars of herbs. “What would you like to teach me about today?” She asks eagerly.

“I do not think we will use the herbs today.” Following her eyes to your wall of storage jars, you make a decision there and then, right on the spot. Today will have truth to it, even if it is only a first step in that direction. “Choose a candle from the table and fetch it here. The one that calls to you the most, for any reason. You may like its shape or its colour or anything else about it.”

Arwena hums and looks over at the candles and spies a fat, waxy golden one. It seems like a good choice because she can see bits of herbs in it. She stands up and reaches for it to hand to you.

“Very good.” Exhaling deeply, you take the candle and set it down between you on the table. “I think today is a day for truth between us,” you tell her gently, making sure that she is paying attention and not letting her mind wander as young minds so often do. “If we are to call each other sister?”

“We look vastly different from each other, but yes, you are my sister in my soul.” Arwena proudly tells you.

“Then there is something you should understand.” This is a leap. A leap of faith and a trust that the girl will not run scared from your cottage never to return. But it feels like the right time. “You know why your father branded me a witch, yes?”

“Because he could not bend you to his will.” She was ashamed that she had believed the word of the man who had abused her. Or let him guide her interactions with you for so long.

“Yes.” Putting one hand over hers on the table, you give her fingers a reassuring squeeze and exhale again, steadying yourself for what might possibly be a bad reaction. “However…what he did not know? Is that he was correct.”

“You are not a witch.” Arwena shakes her head. “You are too kind. Too nice to be a witch.” Witches are supposed to be cruel, to steal souls on behalf of Satan.

“It is untrue that all witches are vile creatures.” There are some preconceptions that you’re going to have to break down. You know that. The historically Christian view of witches has been generally unkind for all of its history. “Sometimes they are people who simply wish to help and do it in ways that people find unconventional. And sometimes they are people who live happy lives in communion with what nature provides for them.”

Arwena bites her lip and thinks about what you are saying. “So- like the tonic you gave me, for- to cause the bleeding. Was it a spell?”

“In part.” You nod, glad that she is hearing you and simply denying or running scared. “While I made the tonic, I said a prayerful spell of words to give the medicine magic. To make it more powerful so that it would not fail you.”

“Is that—” she breaks off and bites her lip, almost fearful of asking the question. She swallows and meets your eyes. “Is that something you can teach me? So I can help others. Women like me?”

“I have never tried to teach anyone before.” In fact, you had never told anyone before. There was just something about Arwena that had always stood out to you, and that voice in the back of your mind thought that it might be this. “But I can try, if you are willing to be patient and practice.”

“I will practice. I swear it.” Her eyes are wide, hopeful. She had expected you to turn her down but she feels like this is something that she needs to learn. Like she’s always been drawn to you.

“Then the book I make you will be for your remedies and magic.” There’s a warmth to it that you can’t deny - a tightening in your chest that equals happiness. “A grimoire, they’re called.”

“A grimoire.” Arwena repeats, committing it to memory. “And maybe I can add to it, once we are on our own.” It’s thrilling, this excitement and intrigue to learn something that is forbidden. “I’ve always felt like I needed to be around you. It was why I wanted lessons.”

“Perhaps it is not only soulmates sent to each other by the powers of the world, but soul sisters as well.” A few years younger, Arwena had been eager for stories of the world and lessons on whatever you would teach her. It appears, even with magic, that her enthusiasm for learning has not waned.

“Perhaps.” She grins at you and motions. “Can you show me something? Anything?”

"Why do you think I asked you to fetch a candle?" Grinning a little when Binx jumps from the windowsill to your lap, one of your hands gently strokes her dark fur while you raise the other. With your pointer figure outstretched, you flick it in a curling motion toward the candle wick - letting your smile spread as it instantly flames to life.

“Oh!” Arwena jumps and claps her hand over her mouth to keep from shrieking in absolute shock and delight. She knows it would cause the men to come running and she doesn’t know if you’ve shared this with Pero. “Sassenach!” She gasps after she contains herself. “I-you— you—”

"Am a witch?" You laugh a little, relieved to see her react with delight instead of fear at every step. "Yes. For many years."

“That is astounding.” She leans forward and runs her hand over the top of the flame, practically giggling as it drifts with her hand. “Is that you?”

"It will behave as a perfectly normal flame once the candle is lit." Arwena's eyes are as bright as the candle and it helps you relax even further. "But once you master this, you will never need flint for your fires again."

“That is— most wonderful.” Arwena can’t help but think about how useful a skill like that would be. “This is what the priests are scared of? This is a gift from God.”

"There are always people who will abuse things meant for goodness and light," you remind her. "Your goal should always be balance. Never ask more from the elements than they are willing or able to give you. If you become greedy, there will be consequences." And unfortunately, the greed of man is pervasive everywhere.

“I live with a greedy man.” She nods solemnly. “I understand. It is only fair that things be balanced.”

"Do not be frustrated if it takes time to learn. It took me weeks." Blowing out the flame is easy enough, and you hold up your finger again. "Conjure the image of the flame in your mind, and imagine it being carried by the tip of your finger, then flick it at the candle wick."

“That is it?” She’s almost disappointed that it seems so simple. “That is all you do to make fire with your fingers?”

"It sounds simple." You could almost laugh at how upset she sounds that it isn't an overly complicated process. "But it will not be something you master instantly." Thinking about it for even a moment, though, you shrug. "Or, if you do? You are surely more powerful than I."

“Alright.” She straightens her spine and looks at the wick. “Imagine the flame, imagine it on my fingers and flick—” she thumps her fingers at the candle with no success.

"It would have been remarkable to get it the very first time," you assure her, not wanting Arwena to get discouraged. "Try it again, a little more slowly. Give yourself time to really picture the flame with your inner eye."

“Okay.” Arwena takes a deep breath and closes her eyes for a second, conjuring up the mental image of a flame. She lifts her hand and flicks it at the candle as she opens her eyes and a tiny flame sparks but fizzles just as fast.

"Wonderful!" This time it is you gasping, absolutely delighted to see a spark happen so fast. "It took me a week to get that much and you got it on your second try!"

The praise makes her beam, nodding and taking another breath. “I can do this.” She promises you before she closes her eyes again to concentrate. This time, the flame it brighter, lasts longer as it shoots from her fingertip and lights the candle.

"Wena!" She did it. She actually did it. On no less than her third try. "You did it!" To conjure a successful flame so quickly you can only assume that Arwena actually is powerful than you. You weren't lying, after all. It had taken you weeks to learn to light a candle with your powers.

“Oh my god, I did it!” She stares at her finger, wide eyed surprise written on her face. She can’t believe that she actually did it.

“You’re a natural, I think.” There’s all the pride of a teacher in your voice, although you can’t claim any credit for her natural abilities. “There is power in you.”

“I cannot believe that I did that!” She squeals happily. It’s amazing and she feels powerful, ready to take on anything.

"Do you think you could do it again?" Consistency with this spell means that she and Briac will never be without a source of light and heat, which will make their journey that much easier.

“I can try.” She bobbles her head eagerly and stretching out her hand, forgetting that the candle is still lit. “Shit.” She hisses and imagines the flame coming from the candle to her fingertip. Immediately extinguishing the candle. Arwena gasps and looks at you in fright. “I—”

"You are a natural." The awe in your voice is no less delighted, and you reach to grasp her hand tightly in both of yours. "This is a good thing, Wena, I promise you. Magic is a gift."

“I can’t believe I did that!” She laughs, tears in her eyes are a mixture of surprise and happiness. “It is - I cannot explain it.”

"It is a powerful feeling, isn't it?" Laughing with her, the cottage fills with ringing joy in no time. "You will be outdoing me in no time."

"I don't know about that." Arwena flicks her fingers and the candle lights up again. "This is most useful and - I should tell Briac, shouldn't I? Have you- your soulmate, does he-" She breaks off and looks worried. "Does he accept you?"

“He accepts me entirely.” And even finds it a little sexy, if his reactions are anything to go by, but you’ll leave that out for now. “I would encourage you to tell Briac once you feel comfortable, but with the understanding that he may need time to adjust. As you know, dear girl,” you reach out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her excited face. “Witchcraft is a crime punishable by death.”

It is a very serious crime and she nods in acknowledgement of that. “I understand. I will be careful with what you teach me.” She swears, reaching out and clutching your hand. “I will wait for now.”

“Only you can know when your time is right,” you tell her, squeezing her hands back. In a show of feline solidarity you don’t think you’ve ever seen before, Binx sits her outstretched paw on top of your hands and meows warmly, making you chuckle. “I think my familiar may come to visit you on occasion. Just to see how you are faring.”

“Familiar?” She cocks her head curiously, unfamiliar with the term. “What does that mean?” The cat seems as if she is following along with the conversation, like she understands what you are talking about.

"The Church says that familiars are minions of the Devil, but she isn't." Scratching gently behind Binx's ear, you're rewarded with a rolling purr and anyone at all would call her expression a smile. "She is my helper. Sometimes fetching ingredients, sometimes keeping watch for me. She even hunts, bringing us meat before Pero came to find himself at my cottage door."

Arwena smiles at the affection between you and the cat. “She is very loyal to you.” She observes, reaching out and stroking Binx’s back. The cat meows in agreement and her eyes close, still purring as she accepts her pets as her due.

“And she will be to you. Won’t you, Binx?” Eyeing the cat reminds her that it is more than a suggestion and she all but rolls her eyes at you. “Good,” you murmur, amused with the response. “Just making sure.”

Arwena hums, thinking on what you have said and she nods. “I wish to learn all you can teach me. Maybe it will explain these urges that I have to do different things.”

“Urges?” That could be any number of things, especially if one is the urge to slap the shit out of a bunch of idiot villagers.

Arwena gives a bashful smile, ducking her head down slightly. “I - I talk to the flowers. Trees. It seems natural. Like they listen and respond to my voice.”

Considering her - small memories of your moments together years ago come back as you u sit together. The warmth you felt when you first encountered the young teen, like you had reunited with a friend instead of meeting someone new. The time you were ushered into the front room of her home to find her sitting in front of the fire as it flickered and danced for her. The summer she spent with flowers always threaded through her hair like a prototype for Shakespeare’s Ophelia before any of the tragedy hit. “Then you were a witch long before today.” You tell her without hesitation. “We are only expanding your abilities.”

“You believe that?” She asks softly, looking up again into your good eye. She doesn’t flinch from the damage to the other, the cloudiness almost beautiful in a way. You’re still beautiful despite the damage her father had inflicted on you and there’s a layer of guilt that settles in her belly that if she had known she was a witch, if she had practiced, she might have been able to help you save your sight.

“I do.” You nod, reaching for her hand and gratefully not missing so you can give it a squeeze. “And not all witches share the same talents. You may be able to do things that I cannot, and that will be a wonderful thing to discover.”

“I wonder what it might be, my talent.” She muses with a dreamy smile.

“I would say you have a talent with fire, but it sounds as if the elements respond to you very well in general.” Seeing her happy is such a blessing, and it is happening more and more. “Before too long you may be able to grow anything you need.”

“That would be wonderful.” She knows that growing food is necessary, but she’s never been allowed to have more than a small garden in the front of the house to make her father seem more important.

“But you cannot make something out of nothing. If you wish for roots, you must have one already that you can imbue with magic. Flowers and trees from seeds. Fruits from their berries or seeds.” That’s something you learned the hard way - months If trying to conjure items ending in bitter frustration every single time. “Everything in balance.”

“Balance.” She intones seriously, taking that to heart. “I understand.” She nudges the journal towards you and earns and snort of unhappiness from Binx when it takes attention off her. “Maybe you can write these things down.”

“I can do that.” The vial of dry iron gall that was packaged with the book and quills will need water, and you stand from the table to fetch the neglected end of a cup of chamomile tea from last night. The flowers will do nothing to the formula or color, but it is water readily available. “Hand me that empty jar,” you ask, pointing to the shelf in back of Arwena. “It will do for an ink pot.”

During the few minutes it takes to get set up, Arwena amuses herself by flicking the candle on and off, experimenting to see if she can make the flame grow to a flare or diminish to barely a spark. The breadth of options delights her and you end up laughing to yourself as you begin to scratch out the first page of the grimoire that she will take with her when the winter is over and the journey to Scotland sets her on a new path:

Balance is the key.

______

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