#my mind has been corrupted ToT

[fleshqb]

Time travel shenanigans with Jon! :D

Based on a meme I saw. I could totally imagine Jons paranoid ass doing something like this.

Poor, poor tiny Jon though- he doesnt understand ToT

[kkyaka]

Summary: You meet new friends your second year of college, but the hot art major is the one who really catches your eye

Pairing: Sero Hanta x black!fem!reader

Word Count: 31,865 (😐)

Warnings: college!au, sero's an art major, lots of flirting, reader is seriously crushing on sero, reader is kinda innocent, mentions of light partying, drinking, and weed, reader gets drunk, lots of fluffy moments, sero's whipped for you, confession of feelings, reader has doubts about sero's feelings, date night at the fair, public indecency kinda (sero feels you up in the ferris wheel), you and sero shower together at one point, kinda a lot of smut lmfao, fingering (f), sero's kinda got a corruption and innocence kink, handjob, tit fondling, tit sucking, oral (f + m), thigh fucking, reader's a virgin, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, "just the tip", squirting, little bit of dirty talk on sero's part, trapping sorta (reader doesn't let sero pull out), sero's a smug bastard and a HUGE flirt, lemme know if I missed anything!

A/N: I honestly do not know how I managed to write all of this, but I was having the time of life doing so lmfao. Lowkey writing with my clit on this one 💀, and this was high key based on this fanart. Another fic of mine that has made its way to the top of my favorites lmfao. Thank you for reading and reblogs are greatly appreciated! And happy new year!

You were already entering your second year of college, and you hadn’t really done much that would classify as living the “college experience.” Your life was pretty monotonous; waking up, going to class, doing homework, and studying. You’ve made a couple of friends, but you don’t hang out with them very often unless all of you are free.

That doesn’t bother you very much, you’ve never been a social butterfly in the first place anyway. You like your roommate, but you don’t see her that often because she’s usually staying with her boyfriend most of the time. You don’t really mind since that means you can have your own peace and quiet when you go home, but sometimes, on the days when you don’t have anything to do, you wish you had more to do with your time.

The second semester is underway, and you’re heading to your second class of the day. You get there pretty early since you don’t know where the classroom is, and you get there right as the class before yours gets out. You wait for the people to file out before you walk in, trying to see what seat would be the best to sit at.

The classroom isn’t that big, not really being as big as a lecture hall, so you’re expecting this class to be on the smaller side, and you pick a seat on the inside of the row further towards the back of the room. There are a few other people in the room that got here early just like you did, and you set your backpack beside you before pulling your laptop out. 

The class starts to pile in as the time for the class to start gets closer, and as you're pulling up your notes for the class, you can see someone sitting in the row next to you in your peripheral, but you don’t pay attention to them. It would’ve been worse if they sat directly next to you. 

“I love your shoes,” you hear right as the professor walks in, and you turn to look at the person that sat next to you.

“Oh, thank you,” you say warmly, sticking your foot out a bit as you look down at your shoes. 

“This is my second time taking this class,” she tells you making you frown a little.

“Really? Is it hard?” you ask cautiously.

“That or I just didn’t pay attention well enough,” she jokes, and you laugh with her, the joke easing your worries a bit. You know this class isn’t going to be easy, but the fact that you already know someone that’s taken it makes you feel a lot better. “I’m Mina,” the pink-haired girl introduces herself, holding her hand out.

“y/n,” you introduce warmly, shaking her hand. “So, what year are you?”

“A junior,” she supplies. “You?”

“Sophmore. I could’ve taken this class last year, but I didn’t wanna deal with it yet.”

“Oh, I totally understand that,” she agrees, and the professor starts talking which signals the end of your conversation. Since this class is so short, the professor already went over the syllabus before class started, so she got into the content right away. You had already downloaded the slides on your tablet, writing any other notes she mentions as she talks.

Luckily, the class doesn’t feel like it lasts long, and that could be because the professor talked so fast. Once she dismisses the class, everyone starts packing up, and Mina turns to you once the both of you stand.

“So, are you done for the day?”

“Yeah! This was my last class of the day, so I’m free.”

“You wanna get lunch?” she asks as you both put your backpacks on. You give her an enthusiastic confirmation, and you follow her out of the room. You get to know each other more as you walk to get food, and she looks down at her phone before she turns back to you. “My friends are going to be joining us if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, of course,” you reply, not minding meeting more people. You both are the first ones to sit down at a table, and she tells you that her friends are on the way. You fill the time with talking about classes and finding out each other's majors.

Denki is the first of her friends that you meet, and you’re nearly overwhelmed by his bright personality. You all make conversation, finding yourself laughing at most of the jokes he cracks. Jirou’s in tow, and they sit by Mina. She tells Mina that another one of their friends will be here soon, and you wonder how they’ll be. Denki and Jirou are really friendly, so you assume that the next friend won’t be too far from that.

“Took you long enough to get here, Sero.” You’re looking down at your phone when you hear Jirou speak, so you look up to see who they are, and your face falls just a little. The last thing you were expecting was someone so good-looking. 

“Yeah, yeah. My professor ran over,” he supplies, and you can’t take your eyes off of him. His hair is half up, half down, the bun of his hair sitting right above his neck, and you can see a sliver of a tattoo on his neck that disappears underneath his jacket.

“Well, since you’re here now, you can meet my new friend.” She gestures to you, telling him your name, and the smile he gives you is enough to render you speechless. 

“Hey, I’m Sero,” he says, even though you already know that, and you almost don’t shake his hand because you’re so focused on looking at him. 

“Hi,” you manage, internally groaning at how that’s all you can manage. He looks at you for a little while after you speak, his other friends are already engrossed in their own conversation. You try to think of something to say to fill the silence, but he beats you to it, pointing to the chair next to you.

“You mind?” he questions, and you shake your head, gesturing quickly for him to take the seat. He sheds his jacket, and you can see that the tattoo on his neck goes down further, once again being hidden by the shirt he’s wearing. Which hugs his body like no other, might you add. You swallow thickly as you look over his torso, your eyes catching another tattoo running down his arm.

He catches you looking at it, laughing softly as he sits down next to you. He pulls his sleeve up his impressive arm, moving his arm toward you so you can see it better. “Got it recently,” he tells you, and he grabs your hand. “You can touch it if you want.” You ignore the tingles that go up your arm, letting him guide your hand, and you softly run your fingers over the ink.

“It’s beautiful,” you admire, looking at the veins and flowers that flow over his skin. 

“Yeah, that makes two of you.” You jump a little at his words, looking up at him, and you can’t stop how warm your face grows. 

“Ah, um, thanks,” you mutter, wanting to slap your forehead. “Do you have any others?” you find yourself asking, still getting over the compliment.

“Yeah,” he starts, pulling his shirt down a little, so you can see the rest of the tattoo on his neck. “I’d have to take my shirt off to show you all of it, but,” he adds. “And I got a couple more.” You nod at his words, your eyes still lingering more on his physique than the tattoo. “You got any?”

“Uh, yeah,” you start, and you sweep your hair over your shoulder, turning a bit so he can see it. “It’s a matching tattoo I got with my sisters,” you explain, and you flinch a little when you feel his fingers run over it.

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “Shoulda asked first.”

“No, it’s okay. It just surprised me.” When his fingers leave your skin, you take that as a sign to face him again. “I want one on my spine the most,” you tell him, and you see his eyes flash, but then it looks like he rethinks what he was going to say.

“Really? Why there?”

“I just think it’ll look really cool, honestly,” you laugh, rubbing your hand over where his fingers once were.

“Yeah, it would.” He rests his arm on the back of your chair, his whole body facing toward you, and you’re practically gushing from the attention. It doesn’t seem like his friends are paying you any attention, and you continue your conversation. You talk to Sero most of the time, and it’s kind of hard to keep up since he keeps hitting you with sudden compliments, and each time you giggle. You feel like that’s exactly what he’s going for because he looks proud of himself every time you do.

You glance over to where everybody else is sitting, and to your surprise, they’re gone. “When did they leave?”

“Yeah, they always do that,” Sero responds. “I’m still here, though.”

“Right,” you laugh, holding back a shiver when he runs a finger up and down your arm.

“You doing anything for the rest of the day?” he asks and you shake your head.

“Not really. Just mentally preparing myself for all of the assignments I’m gonna have soon.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Your major’s more taxing than mine,” he says after he laughs quietly. You found out that Sero’s an art major, which really wasn’t a surprise, and he showed you some of his work which was probably the best thing you’ve laid your eyes on; besides the artist, of course. “Well, if you wanna head to the library or whatever, I won’t mind.”

“I’m probably just gonna head home honestly. The day’s been pretty eventful,” you say, and honestly, this is the most social interaction you’ve had in a long time.

“Mina is capable of drawing out a lot in people,” Sero sighs. “I’ll walk you home if that’s okay.” You don’t want to end your conversation with Sero just yet, and he definitely doesn’t need to walk you home, but you let him do it anyway. 

When you stand, you can finally see how much he towers over you. You try not to pay so much attention to it, but he’s basically in your space the entire time you walk back to your dorm, so you really have no choice but to. When you get to your dorm, you feel kind of upset that it’s about to end so soon, and you think Sero can see it on your face.

“I’ll see you around,” he says when you stop walking. “You’re basically a part of our friend group now,” he continues before he leans down to your face. “So, we’ll meet again soon.” He flashes you a smile, winking at you before he walks away, and you put your hand on your chest when you feel your heart racing, taking a deep breath before you walk into your dorm.

The more the semester goes on, the more time you spend with your new friends, and you start to wonder if Sero’s flirty mannerisms are just a part of his personality. He seems to have them dialed up whenever he talks to you, and there’s not a part of you that hates it. Once you all learned about each other’s schedules, you started hanging out with whoever was free whenever none of you had class. 

Most of the time it’s with Sero, who always manages to find the most peaceful places on campus. He claims it’s the best way to find inspiration, and you could honestly listen to him talk for hours. His voice always sounds so nice to your ears, and there have been too many times when you’ve zoned out while he’s talking, caught up in looking at his face. 

You’re sitting outside since it’s so nice today, and you’re sitting on a blanket with Sero as you talk. Since the semester is in full swing, you’re mostly studying as you talk to him, turning to look at him as you talk every now and then. Once you’ve decided that you’ve done enough work for now, you put some of it away, and you chuckle softly as you put it in your backpack.

“Why are you staring at me, Sero?” you question, turning to look at him once you’re done.

“Cause I’m drawing,” he says warmly, smiling at you.

“Well, you can’t stare at me if you’re drawing.”

“I can be if you’re the one I’m drawing,” he counters smoothly, and that gets you to stop talking for a bit. “You’re really pretty, it would be a crime not to draw you.” Your smile widens, glancing away from him as your face heats up. 

He gets up from the blanket, walks over to one of the many flower bushes that are in bloom, and he picks one off the bush. “Sero, you can’t just do that,” you scold lightly, and he shrugs as he walks back to you.

“It’s in the name of art,” he drawls, and you roll your eyes as he sits back down next to you, and he guides you to look at him with his fingers on your chin. “See? Look.” He moves your hair back behind your ear with his hand before sliding the flower behind it, his fingers lingering on your face before they fall away. “Beautiful,” he whispers, and you’re having such a hard time holding his eyes, wanting to look away bashfully. 

“You’re such a sweet-talker,” you muse, and he slides closer to you, sweeping some of your hair over your shoulder.

“Only to pretty girls like you.” Your cheeks are hurting so bad from smiling, and you swear the sun gets a bit brighter, but you don’t want to tell yourself it’s just because the clouds aren’t hiding the sun anymore. “You wanna see what I drew?” You nod quietly and he hands you his notebook.

You can’t find any words as you look through it, seeing it filled with any and everything. Your movements slow when you flip the page, seeing both sides filled with pictures of you. You chuckle softly when you see that most of the pages after that are just you. “You don’t draw anything else?” you ask him.

“Not when you’re the best thing my eyes have seen.” You laugh at that, not knowing what to say to that at all.

“What? So, I’m like your muse or something?” you finally manage to ask.

“Definitely,” he answers quickly. “My professor has nothing but good things to say about what I’ve submitted, and I have you to thank for that.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help your grade,” you jest, and he grabs your hand.

“Lemme draw you something,” he says softly, and you move your hand further into his to give him the ok. He uncaps the marker he has in his other hand, and he slides his hand up to your wrist, lifting it up to place a soft kiss on your skin. The action nearly has you squirming, and he smirks, giving you a quick glance before drawing on your skin. 

You watch him, wondering what he’s gonna draw, and you giggle a bit as he does, claiming it tickles. He pushes your head to the side softly, saying that he doesn’t want you to see it yet, and you laugh softly but look somewhere else anyway. When he’s finished, you look back down, seeing that it’s the flower that he put in your hair. It’s got so much detail, and he softly blows on it to make sure it’s dry.

You softly run your finger over it, and he grabs your wrist again. He kisses over the ink before gently rubbing his finger over it. “What was that for?”

“To make it last a little longer,” he tells you, and you chuckle looking down at it again. 

“It’s beautiful, Sero. You’re really talented.” 

“Why, thank you,” he muses before he lays back down, and this time he pulls you with him. You lay beside him, shielding your eyes from the sun as you look at the clouds. You can feel him brushing his fingers over the back of your hand as he starts to talk about what the clouds look like. And you get lost in the conversation, feeling like time slows down as you make out everything you can see.

~

You’re walking out of your class with Mina when you catch a familiar face, and you smile as Sero walks up to the both of you. He gravitates to your side, walking with you both as you leave the building. He only walks with you for a little, having another class to get to, and he sends you another wink with a promise to talk to you later before he walks away.

You look down at your feet as you walk, biting your lip to try and hide your smile. “So, what do you think of Sero?” Mina suddenly asks, and you snap your head toward her, looking like a deer in headlights.

“What do you mean?” you ask, barely managing to not stutter over your words.

“You know what I mean,” she presses playfully, nudging your shoulder with her elbow gently. “Something tells me you’ve got a crush.”

Your cheeks flood with heat, pressing your hand to your face quickly. “I dunno. He’s really cool,” you respond lamely.

“Oh, I think you think he’s more than cool,” she teases. “It’s okay to admit you like him, girl.” 

“I guess so,” you quietly admit.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” You shove her softly as she laughs, rolling your eyes. “I don’t blame you, though. He is very easy on the eyes.” You laugh as you shake your head. It’s not like that’s a lie, and you obviously like more than just his looks.

You haven’t really known him for that long, only a couple of months, but every time you talk to him it’s like you’ve known each other for longer than that. You look down at your feet again, smiling as you think about all the time you’ve spent with him. Yeah, you do like him, but you don’t really want to admit that out loud until you know how Sero feels.

It might seem weird, but you don’t want to put all this thought into admitting your feelings when he doesn’t even feel the same way. “But I still don’t know how he feels about me,” you respond, and you feel conflicted at your words because you feel like with the way he acts around you, he feels the same way you do. But there’s a part of you that’s saying that this is all an act, maybe. He might talk to other girls this way.

“Are you serious?” Mina sighs. “There’s no way you believe that.”

“I dunno. I mean, is it okay for me to assume he has feelings for me?” you question, uncertainty in your words.

“Okay, you know what?” she starts after she sighs again. You both stop in front of the building that Mina has to go into, and she turns to face you. “Sero’s having a little house party on Friday, and you will be there. I’m surprised he hasn’t told you about it yet.”

“I’m not the partying type,” you start, and she shakes her head quickly, putting her hands on your shoulders.

“Nope! You will be there, and I will be at your dorm to make sure you’re coming,” she pushes, and you know there’s no arguing, so you roll your eyes before you smile again.

“Fine! I’ll go,” you say, chuckling a bit. She cheers a little bit, bouncing on her feet, and she gives you a quick hug before walking into the building. You shake your head as you start to walk away, your thought quickly turning to think about what you’re going to wear.

Friday sneaks up on you, and you’ve been deciding what to wear for about an hour and a half. You had ideas of outfits in your head since the beginning of the week, but you never had a chance to actually pull them out and get a really good look at them. Mina calls you, and you let her into the building before walking to your room.

“Please do not tell me that’s what you’re wearing,” she says as you walk to your dorm.

“I’m stuck on what to wear,” you tell her, and she walks into what looks like your wardrobe and a tornado mixed. Since your roommate’s not here, you were using her bed to spread out some of your clothes, and you sit down at your desk as Mina looks through them.

“This is cute,” she comments, picking up a dress that you can count on one hand how many times you’ve worn. 

“I don’t know if it fits my body right, though,” you say, standing up and taking it from her, putting it up against your body.

“Okay, well, I’ll be the judge of that.” She urges you to put it on, so you change out of your clothes, slipping it on, holding your hands out when you’ve got it on. “Oh, my God, you look amazing! What do you mean you don’t know if it fits your body?”

“You really think it looks okay?” you ask, trying your hardest not to cross your arms over your body.

“Yes! You look fine! Now get your shoes on because I’ve still gotta get drinks.” You quickly put your shoes on, checking to make sure you’ve done everything you need to do before grabbing your phone and keys, and walking out with Mina.

After Mina gets the drinks, she drives over to Sero’s house, and you’re a bit surprised that her car is one of the few there when she pulls into the driveway. “I thought you said this was a house party?” you say as you get out of the car. “Are we here early?”

“This is more like a kickback than a house party,” she offers, and you walk behind her as she walks up to the door, knocking on it before opening it up. “We’re here!” she announces, and you close the door behind you, seeing Denki and Jirou along with some of their other friends. Some of the you’ve met in passing a few times, and others you find out are just friends of friends.

You quietly greet everybody, following Mina into the kitchen, so she can set her drinks down. You haven’t really drank before, so she got some seltzers for you to try. She hands you one, and when you look at it cautiously, she tells you that there’s no pressure to drink, but you decide that you only live once, so why not? 

You pop it open, take a sip, surprised at how good it tastes. You take a few more sips as Mina says that she has to go check on something really quick, and as you’re watching her walk away, Sero is walking up to you. You nearly choke on your drink, taking in his outfit right before you have a coughing fit. 

He’s wearing black jeans that practically look like a second skin, the loose button shirt he’s wearing half-tucked into his jeans with a chain hanging from two of the belt loops. Only a couple of the buttons are buttoned, leaving his toned chest on display, and your eyes catch on the chain that swings a little when he walks. 

“You came,” he says when he gets to you, immediately crowding into your space, and you don’t shy away from it.

“Yeah, Mina practically dragged me here,” you laugh, taking another sip from the can. 

“You look great,” he compliments, his eyes running down your body, and you look down at yourself, taking another swig in hopes of easing your nerves.

“Thanks,” you say after you swallow, and you suddenly get a warm feeling that runs through your veins, and you’re mostly sure it’s the alcohol. Your eyes catch the rings on his fingers as he rubs at his neck, seeing that his hair is down, some of it nearly falling into his eyes. “You look good, too.”

“Yeah?” he presses, crowding you against the counter, and your nose picks up how good he smells, and it’s almost enough to make your knees wobble. You nod, keeping the can next to your mouth as you look down to hide your smile. He picks your head back up by your chin as he lets the other hand rest on the counter next to you. “You should feel my shirt,” he offers, taking your hand in his, and his touch is making you feel like you’re on fire. You can barely focus on touching the fabric, feeling how it’s soft and silky at the same time, and in the back of your mind, you think how on-brand it would be for him to have a silk shirt.

He then guides your hand to where his chest is exposed and before you can think, you're splaying your fingers against his skin, feeling how firm it is. Your fingers tighten slightly around the can and his smirk widens. “You like what you see?” he whispers, leaning down to your face, and you wonder how long it takes for alcohol to hit your system when you’re drinking for the first time.

“Maybe,” you whisper, finally looking at him in the eyes, and you can’t keep eye contact for long, looking off to the side.

“You’re so cute,” he mumbles, letting his fingers run over your neck, and you can’t stop the shudder that runs through you. He smiles at your reaction before he grabs your hand. “C’mon, let’s go sit with everyone else.”

He pulls you away, and while he’s walking, you take another swig in hopes that it’ll settle your racing heart. It seems to do the opposite though because by the time you’re taking a seat on the couch, that warm feeling runs through you again. Everyone’s having their own conversations, none of them stopping when the two of you walk into the room, and Mina gives you a look that you just roll your eyes at.

Sero sits down on the end of the couch, pulling you with him, and you practically fall into him as you start to feel a lot more relaxed. You eventually join in on some of the conversations, actually talking and meeting Bakugou and Kirishima since you’ve only spoken to them briefly in passing. There’s music playing in the background, and you’re halfway through your seltzer when you really start to feel like you’re drunk.

You try not to draw too much attention to it, and you wonder if anyone can tell that your words are starting to slow down a bit, but if they do, they don’t say anything about it. Mina rolls a blunt, passing it around to everyone, and you refuse, feeling like getting crossed right now wouldn’t be the best idea.

You pass it to Sero, who takes a couple of hits before passing it over. You’ve finished your seltzer, and you start to lean more into Sero as Mina brings you another drink. He doesn’t seem to care when you feel his arm tighten around you, his fingers running over the exposed skin just beneath your dress. The touch starts to make you squirm a bit, and Sero smiles, giving you a look as he keeps doing it.

“How ya feeling, pretty girl?” Sero asks you, lifting your head up so that you can look at him. Everyone’s started to do their own thing, and some people have left, the main group of the bunch only remaining. 

“I’m okay,” you say softly, blinking slowly, and you smile widely even though you don’t really have a reason to. He smiles back at you, squeezing his arm to your side just a bit in a way that feels ridiculously good. 

“You want some water?” he asks quietly and you shake your head.

“No, ‘m okay,” you murmur, and he takes the drink from your hand, which you don’t protest, and he finishes it in about three swigs. 

Mina’s sitting on the other side of you now, Denki and Jirou migrating over and taking Bakugou and Kirishima’s spots on the floor. You wonder where they went, noticing that Izuku is gone as well. “Are we the only ones left?” you ask, looking up at Sero, and he nods his head towards the back door.

“The others went to get some air,” he tells you. 

“Why don’t we play Never Have I Ever?” Mina offers, and if you were sober, you would call her out on how suspicious her voice sounds, knowing that she’s up to something, but in your state, you can only focus on Sero’s body against you.

“She’s not drinking anymore,” Sero tells her.

“That’s okay. We can just use our fingers,” she offers, and you shrug, figuring that there’s nothing else to do. The questions start off pretty tame, but that doesn’t last very long, and you can feel your face growing warm at the questions the more taboo they become.

“Never have I ever used sex toys,” Mina says, and your face seems to get even warmer, but your finger doesn’t go down. “So, what do you use?” she asks you, her voice genuine. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” she adds.

“I just, um…” you start, still feeling a bit nervous to admit it even though you’ve got alcohol running through your veins. “Squeeze my legs. I’ve tried using my fingers, but it feels kinda weird.” You hide your face in Sero’s chest for a second, laughing a little before you turn to everyone else.

“Have you had sex before?” Jirou asks, prompting you to shake your head.

“I haven’t had a boyfriend before,” you admit softly.

“Really?” Mina gasps, and you nod your head, shrugging.

“I guess I just never saw someone that I liked,” you respond honestly. “But at the same time, I wasn’t really looking for one.”

“I get that,” Mina supplies. “So, you’ve never done anything?”

“Not really, I’ve just made out with a couple of guys but that’s it.” You’re not really shy to admit that since everything is out in the open now, and everyone moves on to the next question. The last of the drinking is jello shots, and you only take one since Denki made them so strong, and you can feel yourself getting drunk all over again.

The game stops a little while after, and everyone leaves to raid Sero’s kitchen which he just rolls his eyes at, and he looks down at you. “You okay?” he asks, poking at your side, and you giggle a little, nodding your head.

“Yeah,” you answer, looking up at him. You’re about to say something else, but you slowly close your mouth as you rethink it.

“What’s on your mind, baby?” You feel like you could be on cloud nine hearing him call you that, and you want to hear it again. He frowns a little when you push off of him, barely being able to stand up due to how much you’re wobbling. He keeps his hands out to make sure you don’t fall, and you stand in front of you him.

And what you do next is definitely because of the alcohol because there’s no way you would do it sober. You take his hands, moving them to the side before you straddle his lap, and his eyebrows raise high on his head, and you smile, finally being able to do something to catch him off guard.

“I really like you, Sero,” you say softly, leaning forward so that your face is barely away from his, and he huffs a little, smiling widely. He laces his fingers with yours, and you laugh softly as you ignore that voice in your head screaming what in the hell are you doing.

“Really now?” he teases and you nod quickly.

“Yeah. But I dunno if you like me,” you voice aloud.

“Don’t worry that pretty little head, sweetheart. I like you, too,” he answers, tugging a little at your dress since it’s ridden up, and you forgot that you’re not really wearing the right thing for the position you’re in. You smile widely, reeling at his answer, and you rest your forehead against his.

“Do you wanna kiss me?” you ask, and he watches you for a bit before he answers.

“Definitely. But I’m not gonna do it now.”

“Why not?” you whine, pressing your head against his a little more.

“Because I wanna make sure you know what you’re saying. You’re drunk.”

“I know what I’m saying, I promise,” you pout, and he laughs softly, moving your hands from side to side.

“I know, baby, but I don’t wanna do anything you’re not gonna like,” he presses, and your pout only deepens, and you let his and your hands fall to your sides as you sit up.

“You don’t wanna kiss me?” you ask, and he can’t help but look at you, seeing how your dress hugs every curve of your body, the end of it threatening to expose even more skin.

“Fuck,” he mutters, and you let go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck, looking at him in instead. “Shit, don’t look at me like that.” He carefully sets his hands on your waist, taking a quick breath. “Of course, I wanna kiss you, just not right now.”

What he wouldn’t give to be able to touch you how he wants to, defile you in ways that would make your mind go numb, but he doesn’t he remains strong. But you’re surely but slowly breaking his will down. 

“I’ll remember it, I promise,” you try again, letting yourself fall forward, resting your face in his neck. “Just one, Hanta?” you whisper in his ear, and his fingers twitch at your sides, releasing a loud groan. 

Damn it, you smell so good, and Sero can feel himself getting lost in how your smell surrounds him. “Fuck, I gotta get you home,” he says, standing up with you in his arms. He sets you down, fixing your dress, and you’re still wearing that same pout that’s about to be his undoing. “I’ll be right back, okay?” You nod anyway, and he quickly dashes to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water before telling everyone that he’s taking you home. 

He grabs your hand to guide you to the door, and he grabs his jacket, helping you put it on before he goes to his car. He helps you buckle in before getting in himself, and the whole ride back to your dorm is just him with a tight grip on the steering wheel as he listens to you talk. You’re halfway through the bottle of water he gave you, and you think you’re sobering up since you feel a headache coming on.

You’re feeling more like yourself once he gets to your dorm, and he walks you to your dorm once you both get out of the car. “You sobering up yet?” he asks you softly, and you nod slowly, pushing at your forehead when you start to feel the pain of the headache.

“Yeah, my head’s starting to hurt.”

“Make sure you finish that and eat something, okay?” he tells you, but you don’t nod, instead you turn to him.

“I don’t think I’m drunk anymore,” you tell him, and he steps closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“You sure?” he questions cautiously.

You nod quickly, but you can definitely feel some liquid courage still running through your veins, and you wrap your arms around his neck. God, he’s so much bigger than you, it does something to you that you’ve never felt before. It also doesn’t help that his jacket practically engulfs your frame, and his smell is even stronger now that you have it on.

He moves his other hand to your body, and both of his hands rub up and down your back, making your body react way more than it should. He takes a step closer to you, and you nearly hold your breath in anticipation. “Please, Sero,” you whisper, and he smiles for a split second, slowly letting his head come down to yours.

Right as you try to kiss him, he pulls away slightly, and you groan softly, tightening your arms around his neck so that he can’t go any further. What you were gonna say to him gets lost because his lips are suddenly on yours, and you’re glad his arms tighten around you because you swear you’re about to fall.

It feels like fireworks have been set off as you kiss him, feeling like the world has stopped. You hear something, and it takes you a while to realize that it’s coming from you, a moan slipping from you that he swallows. He groans as he deepens the kiss, pulling you into him until he can’t anymore. 

You’re nearly on your toes because of how tall he is, and you wish this moment would never end, but it does shortly after, and you feel yourself chasing after Sero when he pulls away. “You okay?” he teases, seeing how hard you’re breathing, the glossy look in your eyes making him want to stay.

You nod, and he easily lets you pull him toward you again, kissing him just as hard until you have to pull away to catch your breath. You want to tell him that your roommate isn’t here, but you feel like that might be too fast, and the other part of your body screams at you for being an idiot.

“Text me when you get into your room, okay?” 

“Okay,” you giggle, feeling giddy and like you’re on top of the world. “Text me when you get home,” you add, and he kisses you again quickly. Fuck, he’s got to leave before he gets ahead of himself. “See you later, Hanta,” you say warmly.

“I’ll see you soon, baby.”

You watch him get into his car and drive off before you go into your building, and you’re so tired that you don’t bother to change out of your clothes, only taking your shoes and socks off. You text Sero before you lay down, and you fall asleep almost immediately, but not without a smile on your face.

~

The first thing you think when you wake up is that the after-effects of drinking absolutely suck ass. You groan at the headache you feel, and you’re about two steps from throwing up. You grab your phone to see what time it is, and that’s when you see a text from Sero.

Good morning, beautiful

Text me when you get this

You smile at it, texting him back as you wonder if you have any pain medicine in your dorm. You set your phone on your bed, getting up slowly so you don’t throw up last night’s dinner, and you start your search. As you’re looking, you’re remembering everything that happened last night, and you feel embarrassed about how you acted at Sero’s house.

You stop in your tracks, letting your face fall in your hands as you think about you nearly pounced on him last night, a loud groan following as you think about it. But then you’re immediately smiling when you think about how the night ended, and your embarrassment is subsided a little. Before you can start looking again, you get a text. You grab your phone, seeing that it’s Sero, and you panic a little when he tells you that he’ll be over in about twenty minutes.

You dash to the bathroom, brush your teeth, get in the shower and fix your hair, and put on some clean clothes. Right as you finish putting lotion on, he texts you that he’s here. You take a deep breath, to calm both the nerves and the nausea, and you head downstairs.

When you walk outside, he’s standing there with food in his hand, and you sigh at the sight of it. You hug him when you get to him, and he hands you the food as he leans down to kiss you softly. “You sleep well?” he asks, and you nod, looking in the bag to see what he got you.

He follows you to your dorm, and you’re glad that you cleaned all of your clothes before leaving last night. He sits with you on your bed as you eat, and you nearly moan when you finally start eating, totally forgetting to last night since you were so tired.

“Is your head hurting?” Sero asks, and you nod, balling the bag up once you’re done eating.

“I haven’t had time to find my pain medicine,” you tell him, and he pulls out a bottle from his pocket.

“I brought it just in case.” You smile, grabbing it from him and taking the medicine. Once you swallow the pills, you throw your trash away before finding your spot next to him on your bed. You don’t know if you should talk about what happened last night or what the events could mean, but Sero starts talking as you think. “So, what do you remember from last night?”

“Everything,” you admit honestly, biting your lip as you once again think about how you acted last night. “Sorry about how I acted. I don’t know what came over me,” you apologize, and he chuckles softly, opening his body toward you.

“Don’t apologize,” he starts, “it was nice to see that shy side of you disappear.” You laugh a bit, putting your face in your hands anyway, figuring it’s going to take a while for you to finally get over your embarrassment. “But, you’re also really cute when you’re shy,” he whispers, pulling your hands from your face.

“Do you really like me?” you find yourself asking, ignoring his previous words even though your face is about to catch on fire.

“Yeah, I do,” he states. “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.” He’s so close to you, and you want to kiss him again, but now that the alcohol isn’t in your veins anymore, you don’t know if you can bring yourself to do it. “What are you gonna do about that?” he questions, and for a brief second, you wonder what he’s talking about, but then it dawns on you. 

You carefully lean forward, softly planting your lips on his. You feel the same way you felt last night, those feelings are even stronger now that you know your feelings are reciprocated. He lets his hand rest on your cheek, deepening the kiss just a little before he smiles. “Your roommate coming back?”

“She moved out,” you answer quickly and his smile widens.

“Good.” He kisses you again, shifting your body so that you can fully lay down on the bed, and you revel in the feeling of his weight on top of you. He laces his fingers with yours before moving them above your head as he gently lets his tongue touch your lips. You easily let him in, finding yourself moaning again as his tongue swirls with yours. 

Your heart is racing as your body heats up, feeling overwhelmed already from just kissing him. You slide your hands out of his so that you can wrap your arms around his neck, wanting to feel more of him on you. His fingers run under your shirt now that they’re free, and a deep shudder runs through your body when his fingertips ghost over your skin. 

He pulls away, kissing under your chin and down your neck, and you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life. Your stomach caves in a little when he runs his big hands over it, and you want him to do more, but he doesn’t, keeping his lips on your skin.

“Hanta,” you whisper.

He lifts his head up to look at you, smiling at the look on your face, but his hands don’t stop moving. “What’s up?” You don’t know if you’ll be able to voice out loud what you want, biting your lip a little as you look off to the side. He uses one of his hands to guide your eyes back to his, and your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Talk to me, baby. What d’ya want?”

“More,” you mumble after a while, and he raises a playful eyebrow at you. You don’t think he heard you at first since he doesn’t respond right away, but he speaks before you can think to say anything again.

“More what?” he presses, and you’re pretty sure he knows what you mean, but he makes no move to prove that. “I’m no mind reader, sweetheart,” he muses, and you pout a little, trying to get the courage to tell him what you want.

“I want you to touch me,” you try, and his fingers push against your skin lightly.

“I’m already doin’ that.” Your frown deepens, and you want to wipe that grin off his face.

You huff softly. “I want you to touch me more,” you eventually say, and you hope he gives in because you don’t know if you can say anymore, your face feeling like it’s about to be on fire. 

“More how?” he questions softly, and he moves his hands up your torso slowly, his fingers reaching under your bra. You nearly jump when his fingers brush over the underside of your boob, and you slightly push your chest up into his touch. 

He sits up suddenly, and you fight the urge to whine at the loss of heat as he pushes your shirt up lazily. It’s like he’s moving in slow motion, starting at your stomach again before running his fingers up and over your bra. “You want me to touch you more here?” he asks, putting a little bit of pressure on the fabric where your nipple is, and you jump at the sudden stimulation, nodding your head as you stay silent.

He uses both of his hands to run over your nipples, but the barrier between your skin and his fingers makes you even more frustrated. “Hanta,” you huff.

“What? You told me to.”

“You’re not touching me,” you argue softly. “You can take it off,” you manage, and you almost stumble over your words, surprised that you can even get them out.

“Can I now?” he teases, but he moves his hands under you to unhook your bra, and he helps you take your shirt off before sliding the straps off your arms and letting it fall to the floor. He’s just staring at you, and you can’t help but squirm as his silence goes on.

“What?” you whisper, moving your arms to try and hide, but he quickly catches them, moving back down to the bed.

“You’re so beautiful, that’s what,” he eventually says, and you would cover your face if you could.

“Oh,” you say timidly.

“I can touch you, right?” he asks, and you nod quickly, feeling like he’s been teasing you this whole time. “Use your words, baby.”

“Y-Yes, Hanta.” His hands are soft against your skin when he touches you again, gently massaging your chest before his fingers run over the hardened peaks, and you jump against your will, moaning softly.

“You’re so sensitive,” he whispers, applying a bit more pressure before he lets his head fall to your chest. You can’t help but moan again when you feel his tongue swirl around one, continuing the stimulate the other one by rolling it between his fingers.

You start to squirm at the sudden pleasure, never experiencing this feeling before, and it almost feels overwhelming. You feel your breath getting caught in your chest when he switches, kissing your skin in between as he goes. Your fingers slide into his hair like you’re trying to find an outlet to try and release how good you’re feeling. 

Sero can only smile against you as he feels you moving under him, lifting his head up as he lets the sounds you’re making fill his ears. When he makes eye contact with you, you look away, fighting the urge to cover your eyes. He puts his mouth on you again while his other hand trails down your body, and he hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your shorts.

The movement has you jolting a bit, and he lifts his head up to look at you again. “Is this okay?” he whispers, and when you hesitate to answer, he’s sitting up a bit, moving until he’s hovering over you. He laces his fingers with yours before he kisses you softly.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do. We can go as fast or as slow as you want,” he reassures.

“I’m just nervous,” you mumble.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” he reassures. “But just say the word right now, and we’ll stop, and we can do something else.”

“We can keep going,” you start. “And you can take them off.”

“You sure?” You nod quickly, and he doesn’t push you to speak, kissing you again instead. You feel his hands ghost down your sides, and when he gets to your shorts, you tense up against your will. “Relax, baby,” he whispers against your lips, and he pulls back a little so he can look you in the eyes. “Can you breathe for me?”

He takes a deep breath in that you copy, following him when he breathes back out. You’re not as tense as you were before, but he can still feel it. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, pretty girl. We don’t have to rush anything, we got all the time in the world.” 

“What if I don’t like it?” you find yourself asking. You don’t think that’s really going to be the case, but there’s something that’s stopping you, and you’re trying to figure out why.

“Then I’ll stop, and we can do something else,” he repeats, and you know that you don’t want to stop. You take another deep breath, allowing yourself to fully relax. “I’m not gonna do anything that’s gonna hurt you or anything you don’t want.”

You hold his gaze for a bit before you give him a small nod. “...okay.”

“So, what do you wanna do?”

“I wanna keep going,” you answer softly. “I’m sure, I’m just in my head a little,” you admit.

“Just let me know if you wanna stop at any time, okay?” he tells you again, and he smiles at you when you nod. You lift your head up just a bit, and you don’t need to say anything, Sero already leaning down to meet your lips. You sigh softly into the kiss when you feel his hands at your chest again, letting the pleasurable feeling keep your body relaxed.

Now that you’re feeling a bit better, you’re eager for Sero to touch you more, moving your hips just a little in hopes that he gets the hint. You don’t know if it works, but you feel one of his hands move down until it hits your shorts. He waits a little bit for any shift in your body language, and when he doesn’t feel anything that raises concern, he grabs the waistband of your shorts.

You lift your legs up to help him take off your shorts, and he lets them fall out of his hands as his eyes land on you again. He’s just staring at you, and you can’t close your legs because his hands are on your legs, keeping them open.

“W-Why are you staring at me?” you ask, gripping the sheets in your hand by your sides.

“Cause you’re so pretty, baby. Why else would I?” he answers, but he doesn’t look you in the eyes when he does. “All of you is so pretty,” he whispers, and he shifts so that his face is closer to your pussy. “Can I touch you?” 

You tense again just a little, but this time in anticipation, finding yourself taking another deep breath. “Yes.” You’re nearly breathless, and you don’t even know why, and he rubs over your legs, gasping a little when they go towards the crease where your thighs meet your hips.

“Just relax, baby. I’ll make you feel good, don’t worry.” He lays down so that his chest is fully on the bed, and he continues to rub over your skin while he kisses down your thighs. He grabs your legs so that they sit on his shoulders, and you watch as he leans in closer to you, closing his eyes before taking a deep breath in, the action making your face flame. “God, you smell so good,” he mumbles against your skin, his nose in your bush, and you don’t even know if you’d be capable of saying anything due to how flustered you are.

You jump when he suddenly licks at your clit, your surprise only making you gasp. He does it again, and this time you moan, feeling his hands tighten around your thighs when you start moving. Once he starts, he doesn’t stop, his tongue never leaving you, and you try to bite your lip to conceal the noises you’re making, hearing how loud you’re getting.

When he pulls away, you think he’s giving you a break, but not even seconds after his tongue leaves you, he rubs his thumb over your clit. Your toes curl, feeling your body move into the pleasure at the same time it’s trying to move away from it. He rubs his fingers through your folds as he continues to circle at your clit, and your hands are starting to hurt by how tight you're gripping your sheets.

“You okay with me touching you more?” he asks, and you nod quickly, more caught up in your enjoyment than his words. You jolt when you feel his finger prod at your hole, and your body tenses up again without a second thought. “Just relax. I got you,” he reassures, rubbing over your thigh again. 

As he pushes his finger inside of you, he keeps his eyes on you, but you let your head fall back, feeling your brain being split between focusing on relaxing and the new feeling of your walls being stretched. “You okay?” 

You can only let out a breathy answer, giving him enough to let him know that he can keep going. You can’t really tell how wet you are, but the fact that you can hear his finger sliding in and out of you is enough to tell you. The feeling of you being stimulated from the inside feels foreign and a little weird, but it’s outweighed by how good it feels.

Sero puts his mouth back on your clit as he slides in another finger, and you wince a little at the burn you feel from the stretch, but it doesn’t last long because he curls his fingers, pressing firm on your walls. You let out a surprised yelp that delves into a moan, a bit embarrassed that you made the noise, and you cover your face as the squelching gets louder.

You can hear Hanta moving, feeling his finger rubbing at your clit again as he starts to speed up his fingers inside of you. Your moans become uncontrollable when it starts to feel like he’s reaching into the deepest part of you, and your arm slides over your mouth. He’s quick to pull your arm away, and he guides your face to his with his fingers on your chin.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he whispers, and it takes you a moment, but you eventually do, even if your eyes want to close because of how good he’s making you feel. “Why you hiding from me?”

“B-Because,” you try, softly grabbing onto his wrist when you feel your pleasure starting to mount. “I sound weird,” you rush out, your mouth falling open as your eyes slip closed.

“Weird?” Sero muses, a sly grin appearing on his face. “You sound like music to my ears.” He leans down to kiss you, tasting yourself on his tongue, and he swallows every sound you’re making. He slides one of his legs to the side, pushing it into yours when your legs start moving a bit too much for his liking.

You pull away when it seems like he’s going even deeper inside of you, and that’s when you start to feel it. You can’t really explain it, but in the back of your head, it kind of worries you, and your grip on Sero’s wrist tightens. “H-Hanta, w-wait,” you moan even though he doesn’t stop, but you don’t think you want him to. “I f-feel weird.”

“Is that a good weird or bad weird?” he questions playfully.

“I d-don’t k-know,” you whine, feeling tears at your lash line, and you throw your head back onto your pillows, words the last thing you want to try and form. 

“It’s okay, baby. Just let it happen,” he coaxes softly, and you can barely hear him, only really hearing your heartbeat in your ears. It feels like something’s building up right below your tummy, and this is something you’ve never felt before. It’s honestly starting to scare you, but focusing on Hanta’s words helps that feeling diminish.

You finally start to figure out what it feels like, but you don’t think you can warn him in time. “Hanta!” That’s the last thing you can get out, feeling whatever was building up snap quickly. Your back arches off the bed, your moans so loud, you’re pretty confident that your neighbors could hear you, but right now, you don’t give a fuck.

Your legs tremble violently, but Sero keeps moving his fingers, moving with you so that he can do so. You quickly push at his hand as you roll onto your side, feeling like you’re completely overwhelmed by the sensitivity. He finally gives you some peace, sliding his fingers out of you, and you’re breathing like you just ran a marathon. 

You roll back onto your back, letting your legs stay open since your core is so sensitive, and when you look down, you see that not only your sheets are soaked, but so is Hanta. You quickly remember that feeling you had right before you came, and embarrassment swallows you whole. Your face falls, and you immediately put your hands over your face, but you can’t roll over and hide like you want to because Hanta’s in between your legs.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you hear him ask, but all you can do is shake your head, wanting a giant hole to swallow you up right now. “Are you okay?”

You jump when you feel his hand on your thigh. “I can’t believe I just did that,” you whisper, and it’s loud enough that Hanta can hear it.

“Did what? Squirt?” You freeze a bit before you slowly let your hands fall from your face.

“What?” He carefully sits you up by pulling you by your arm before he kisses you softly, having a hard time concealing his chuckle.

“You squirted, sweetheart. You didn’t pee on me,” he explains, and he really can’t hide his laugh. “It’s totally natural.”

“O-Okay,” you murmur, and he kisses you again, deepening it a bit.

“And it was really hot,” he whispers against your lips, and you feel your face heat up once again. “Wanna see if I can make you do it again.” You gasp softly at his words, and you feel his hands run up and down your thighs. “Not right now, of course,” he adds. “Did you feel good?”

You nod, feeling a quick wave of arousal run through you at how good it was. You’ve never cum like that before, and you don’t think you can ever go back. “What about you?” you ask after a while, glancing down at his shorts, and your eyes widen a bit when they land on the very obvious bulge in between his legs.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” he says, and you frown a little bit at that.

“But I want you to feel good too,” you respond and he groans softly.

“Yeah?” You nod again, feeling shy at what you might have to do, but then he’s pushing you down softly. “Then just lay there for me, okay?” You move back until you’re fully laying down on the bed, and you watch as he sits up on his knees before shoving his shorts down his body. Your mouth falls open a bit when your eyes finally land on him, and you’re having a hard time looking away. “You like?” he teases, and you don’t have to hide your nod.

His fingers are still wet from your release, but he slides them into his mouth anyway, moaning softly when your taste floods his tastebuds. He glances at you, smiling when he sees that you’re watching him, and he breathes out of his nose when he wraps his hand around his dick.

You sit up on your elbows before you fully sit up, your face inches away from his shaft, and you really get a good look at it. You’ve seen your fair share of dicks unfortunately at the hands of unsolicited dick pics, but this is the first one you’ve seen in person. And you don’t know if it’s because you’re really attracted to him, but it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. 

He’s so long, the tip being a pretty pink, and your eyes follow the veins that go from the tip all the way down to his balls. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?” he questions, and you tear your eyes away to look at him. 

“I wanna touch you,” you mumble, and his movements falter for a split second at your words. He grabs your hand, and you feel yourself clench around nothing when he slides your fingers into his mouth. You watch as he guides your hand, and you quietly hum at how hot it feels. You wrap your hand around him, just wanting to feel him in your hand, and he bites back a moan.

You’re definitely out of your element here, but you move your hand anyway, trying to copy what he was doing moments before. “Am I doing okay?” you ask, looking up at him, looking at him so eagerly yet completely innocently.

“Jesus,” he breathes, feeling like he might bust in two seconds. “Yeah, baby, you’re doing great,” he answers with a quick nod. “You can go a little bit faster.” You do what he says, and he balls his hand into a fist, letting out a soft groan. Honestly, this is probably the best handjob he’s ever gotten. It doesn’t (or does) help that you’re looking at him like that, and he can feel himself twitch in your hand. 

You tighten your grip just a little whether you meant to or not, and he lets his head fall back on his shoulders as he swears. He decides he definitely wants to look at you when he cums, and he grabs your hand to stop you even though he absolutely does not want you to. “Was that good?”

“Yeah, but I just want you to lay there and look pretty for me,” he says, and you lay back down, spreading your legs a little, and he groans at the image under him. He’s quick to put his hand back on him, pulling the bottom of his shirt up into his mouth. His pace is pretty quick since he’s so close, and he keeps his eyes on you, seeing how you’re watching the tip of his dick disappear under his hand on the downstroke.

“Fuck,” he moans, and his breath catches as he watches your hands migrate toward your chest. His hips buck as he watches you roll your fingers over your nipples, and you moan softly at the feeling. “Shit, baby, keep touching yourself for me.”

You move one of your hands down your body, your fingers slowly inching towards your clit, and he waits in anticipation, his dick twitching again when you finally start rubbing that bundle of nerves, moaning a little bit louder as your toes curl. “M still sensitive,” you admit, and he huffs out a laugh.

“I know, angel, but you look so good.” He swears again, his tip leaking even more. “God, the things I wanna do to you.” He starts to curl in on himself when he feels that knot building up in the base of his spine, his hips bucking into his hand. “Shit, I’m gonna cum.” He doesn’t stop, his breath catching in his chest before he finally falls over that crest. He fucks himself through his orgasm as he spills on the sheets and over your legs. 

He keeps going until his nerves tingle from the overstimulation, and he lets his head fall back on his shoulders as he catches his breath. “Holy shit,” he sighs, quickly lifting his head and leaning down with his body hovering over you. He kisses you, lacing his clean fingers with yours and sliding his tongue in your mouth. He rests his head against yours after he pulls away, and he can’t wipe the smile off of his face.

“Did you feel good?” you ask softly, and he chuckles quietly, squeezing your hands.

“Yeah, that was amazing.” You give him a shy smile, and he can’t help but kiss you again. He gets up shortly after to clean you and himself up, and he tells you to hop in the shower while he changes your sheets. When you get out, he’s already changed clothes, and he pulls you into your bed. You laugh but go with him anyway, squeezing into your tiny bed. 

He moves you to lay on top of him, and you quickly find yourself drifting off. He’s rubbing over your back, and you feel him kiss the top of your head, his breathing lulling you to sleep.

You really don’t know what to call your relationship with Sero. You never got around to asking him, and now it’s been a week since the events that went down in your dorm. You know that he feels the same way about you, but you don’t know if that means that he actually wants to date you. Honestly, the thought of just being friends with benefits with Sero leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

Besides your schoolwork, that sinking feeling is what clouds your thoughts nearly every day. You’re scared to ask him because you’re afraid of hearing something that you don’t want to hear. You still hang out with him, but you haven’t spent any time alone with him since you’re usually with your friends. He always sits next to you, keeping his arm around you, but that’s as far as it goes. You don’t know if your friends know anything, but the more you spend time around Sero, the more conflicted you feel.

You’re in the library tonight, trying to make up for lost time since you didn’t really get a lot of studying today, but you can’t focus. You try everything; playing music, playing one of your favorite shows, even going so far as to not play anything, but nothing works. You sigh heavily as you put your elbows on the table, rubbing over your head.

“Looks like somebody’s studying too hard,” you hear, and you turn your head to see Hanta standing behind you. Your heart skips and sinks all at the same time, but you smile at him anyway, hoping you're masking your inner turmoil.

“I was trying to make up for not studying earlier, but it’s not really working,” you say, looking back at your work. You sigh again right before you feel his hands on your shoulders, and you feel yourself relax as he massages them a little. 

“Come on, let’s get you outta here,” he whispers, and you feel yourself hesitate, talking to try and buy yourself some more time.

“Where are we going?” you ask, turning to look at him when his hands slide off your shoulders.

“We could go back to my place,” he offers, and your face warms almost instantly.

“I’m not really in the mood for…” you start, and he smiles at you, leaning down so that his face is in front of yours.

“Mood for what?” he teases, and you can’t bring yourself to say it in the middle of the library but he keeps talking. “Don’t worry, baby. I wasn’t thinking of anything else. If you go back to your dorm, you’ll just try and study until your brain hurts.”

He has a point, and you sigh internally that he doesn’t want to do any of what you did last week. You think about it, but that part of you that likes him so much ultimately makes the decision for you. “Okay,” you respond, and you start packing your stuff up.

He grabs your hand after you stand and put on your backpack, and you both walk out of the library. You’re quiet as you walk to his car, suddenly surrounded by a tornado of thoughts. He doesn’t call you on it, even when you’re quiet all the way to his house. 

“Lemme give you a tour,” he says when he opens the door to his house. You both take your shoes off at the door when you close it, and you follow him into the house. “You already know the kitchen and the living room,” he starts, and he gestures to the sliding doors further into the house. “Backyard.”

He shows you the bathroom downstairs before you follow him upstairs. There’s another bathroom, his room, and he stops in front of another door when you walk further into the hallway. “And this is my art room.” He opens the door, gesturing for you to go first. The first thing that fills your nose is the strong smell of paint, and you look around when he turns the light on.

There are painting all over the room, some of them hanging on the walls, and there are papers on the floor in a couple of corners of the room. The desk he has is covered with stacks of sketchbooks, and you can see where he keeps all of his supplies in the bookcase that lines one of the walls. “This is really nice,” you comment, stopping in the middle of the room where one of his easels is. 

You walk over to one of the paintings that you can see, carefully running your fingers over it. “This is so beautiful,” you whisper, and you freeze for a bit when you feel Sero wrap his arms around you.

“You can have it if you want,” he says, and you look at him over your shoulder.

“Really?”

“Of course. You inspired it after all.” You look over it again, seeing the flowers that he picked from the bush that one day all over the painting. They’re all different sizes, and you squint, leaning your head forward as you really look at it.

“Is that…me?”

“I was wondering how long it was gonna take you,” he chuckles, and you can definitely start to see it now. Even though the flowers cover the painting, the negative space around them creates an image of you. “Painted it that night,” he adds.

“What are you gonna call it?” you ask, trying your best to keep your negative thoughts at bay.

“I dunno yet, even though there are a million words I could use to describe how beautiful you are.” It takes absolutely no time for your face to go warm, glancing at the painting before you look down at the floor, having a hard time concealing your smile.

But it doesn’t take long for your thoughts to derail. He could honestly be saying all of these things just to say it. There could be no meaning behind them, only an intention to keep you here. And it’s working. 

Your smile falls, and Sero spins you around in his arms before he kisses you softly. “C’mon, there’s one more place I wanna show you.”

He takes your hand, and you follow anyway even though you want to leave and crawl in your bed. He turns the light off, walking you further down the hallway. You can see a door, the windows covered with some curtains, but you don’t say anything. Sero stops at the door, pulling you so that you’re now in front of him.

“Open it,” he urges softly. 

You open it, stepping through the door slowly as you realize that you’re on a small balcony. But it’s decorated with string lights, and there’s a blanket in the middle. Your mouth falls open softly as you take it in, seeing that there are a couple of baskets on the blanket.

“What is all this?” you ask, but he doesn’t answer, instead ushering you to sit down. He sits down next to you, pulling out all of the food he packed in the baskets, and you truly don’t have any words. 

When he’s done, he hands you a plate, and you silently fill it, wondering what’s going through his head. He does the same, but he sets it down quickly after, grabbing your attention by gently wrapping his fingers around your leg. He scoots closer to you, moving your legs so that they’re in between his.

“You know you’re really good at wearing your thoughts on your face,” he tells you softly, and you chew on your lip as pick at the edge of your plate.

“Isn’t that a bad thing?” you say, forcing a chuckle, and he takes your chin in his fingers so that you’re looking at him again. 

“Not for me because then I know when something’s wrong.” He keeps talking after you don’t respond. “I should’ve made this clear from the beginning, but I don’t want just a sexual relationship with you. I feel a lot for you.”

You take in his words, but that insecurity is still eating at you. “Isn’t that too fast?”

He smiles softly. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

You answer in your head almost immediately. Of course, you do. It’s what happened with your parents. They met each other in college and have been inseparable since.

You nod shortly after he asks you. “Then I wouldn’t consider this too fast. At least not on my end.” He grabs your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “But if this is too fast for you then that’s okay.”

You shake your head, but you don’t say anything right away. “It just feels weird, I guess. I dunno how to describe it,” you eventually say even though you know it probably doesn’t explain anything. “I’ve never done anything like this before or really liked someone. I guess I’m just protecting myself.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Sero responds. “But you don’t have to feel bad about stuff like that. There’s a first time for everything. And we can go as slow or as fast as you want.” You give him a small smile, your mind finally letting his words go to heart.

If Sero just wanted to keep this relationship casual, you probably would’ve gone with it until you weren’t satisfied anymore. But at the same time, the thought of only being someone who only warms his bed made you feel horrible. Maybe it was love at first sight, and you just didn’t know it yet. Hearing how he actually feels about you made your heart race once it finally hit you.

“I’m just relieved that you feel that way,” you admit. “I don’t know if I would be okay with anything else.”

“You coulda just talked to me about it, baby.”

“I know, but I was afraid of your answer. I was worried you were gonna say something that I wasn’t gonna be happy with.”

“Well, I’m gonna tell you again,” he starts, setting your plate aside and grabbing both of your hands before he kisses over your skin. “I really like you, and I want you to be mine. If you’ll have me.” You can’t help but smile from ear to ear, leaning forward to kiss him, and he meets you halfway.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask someone on a date before you bring them to one?” you ask playfully when you pull away.

“Let’s say I was just being optimistic,” he jests, and you laugh softly before you start eating.

The balcony faces the city, and with the sun going down, you can see how bright it is even from far away. You and Sero talk about anything and everything until you feel full, wondering how long it’s been since you’ve even eaten anything today. 

When you’re done, Sero leans back against the house, pulling you with him so you can sit in between his legs. You lean back against him, and he wraps his arms around you, letting them rest on your lap. 

You let your head fall back on him as you sigh, letting everything you were worried about wash over you. It seems a bit silly that you were worried about anything in the first place, but you don’t put too much blame on yourself. You don’t know how long you sit outside just listening to the sounds of the city, but eventually, you feel yourself getting tired.

When Sero offers for you to just stay at his place for the night, you don’t protest since it’s the weekend. He cleans up everything on the balcony while you get ready in the bathroom, and he gives you a shirt to sleep in when he gets done.

You feel like you could fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillows. Sero turns off the lights after he closes the door, sliding into the bed next to you. He wraps his arm around you, and a smile pulls at your face when you feel him kiss your forehead. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“Night, Hanta.”

You didn’t really have any expectations going into your relationship with Hanta mostly because you had never dated someone before. You felt like there were obvious things you would want out of a relationship, but when it came to dating specifically, you didn’t really know what you were expecting.

You were honestly a little worried that Hanta would feel a certain type of way because of that fact, but you both talked everything out, and it definitely helped your doubts. It was a little awkward for you to talk about everything, but once it was all out in the open, you were glad you had the conversation in the first place.

Even without dating in the past, you knew that you weren’t that big on PDA, and Sero was completely okay with that. You didn’t mind holding hands with him or whenever he would wrap his arm around you when you were sitting together, but you did mind kissing him whenever you had to part ways. It’s just not something you’re comfortable with, and Hanta never pushes you to do so which always makes you feel better. But if he feels like there are little to no people in the near vicinity, he’ll sneak a quick one before walking off to his next class. 

Being with Sero makes you ridiculously happy, to the point where you find yourself smiling almost all the time until your face hurts. Even your friends that you had before you met Mina called you out on it. You honestly hadn’t caught up with them in a while since you don’t really share any of the same classes, and they were practically drowning you with questions once you spilled that you’re dating someone now.

You didn’t really make a big deal about telling everyone once you started dating, and you already had a feeling that your friend group knew anyway, so you never got around to mentioning it to anyone else. Sometimes, in the back of your head, you still have a little bit of doubt, like all of this isn’t real, but whenever you spend time with Hanta, that voice becomes minute.

You’re already nearing the halfway point of the semester which means your birthday’s coming up soon. It always seems to come up out of nowhere especially when you’re surrounded by a bunch of schoolwork along with midterms. You don’t really like to announce when your birthday is coming up, sometimes never really caring for the attention it sometimes brings.

“So, what are your birthday plans?” Hanta asks, and you shrug as you type up the essay you have to write, finishing your thought before you turn your attention to Hanta.

You’ve been spending a lot more time at Hanta’s place, only staying at your dorm if your schedules don’t add up well. You’d say you’ve practically moved into his house, most of your stuff cluttering nearly every room. Sero surely doesn’t mind you staying and spending the day and night with him since that means he just gets to see you more.

“I wasn’t really planning anything, honestly,” you answer, sliding away from Hanta’s desk before spinning around in the chair. He’s sitting on the bed with a sketchbook, the pencil resting behind his ear.

“Really? But it’s your birthday.” You chuckle softly, standing up and walking over to the bed. You decide that you’ve done enough work for now, and a break is much deserved. You sit down, copying the position he’s in as you rest your back against the headboard.

“Well, parties always seem to fall apart whenever I try to plan them, and my birthday falls on a weekday this year anyway,” you say. “Usually the only thing I try to worry about is not crying on my birthday since it happens almost every year,” you add with a laugh, but there’s nothing that Sero finds funny about that.

He frowns a bit before he pulls you towards him, and you don’t know what he’s trying to do at first until he tugs at your thigh softly. You shake your head but move anyway, straddling him, and he pulls you into a hug before you can barely settle down. “You shouldn’t be crying on your birthday, angel,” he whispers into your hair, and you huff before you pull back to look at him.

“Yeah, I know, but it’s not like I can control what happens on my birthday.”

“But it’s your birthday,” he emphasizes, and you smile even though you can feel the bad memories of past birthdays sneaking up into your mind.

“So? To everyone else, it’s just another day.” He doesn’t seem too happy with your answer, but he doesn’t question you about the subject anymore. He moves his hands to your face, pulling you down so that he can kiss you softly.

“I promise that you won’t cry anymore on your birthday as long as I’m here,” he declares, and it takes you by surprise for a split second. You can feel tears stinging your eyes, trying to come out, but you fight them for as long as you can. 

“That’s a big promise,” you tease, but you can’t stop the tears no matter how hard you try, and you drop the act almost immediately. Sero wipes them away gently, and you rest your forehead against his. “Thank you, Hanta.”

“Of course, baby.” 

You always try to play off how much that fact bothered you, but hearing what Hanta said just made you realize how many times you’ve actually cried. Some people might call you overdramatic, but you’ve always hated crying on your birthday, feeling like you shouldn’t be. Of course, you can’t control life, but the fact that it still happened bothers you.

But being here with Hanta right now tells you that his promise isn’t empty. 

~

You still didn’t make any plans for your birthday because your birthday was on the busiest day of your week, and with all the work you had, you wanted nothing more than to just be with Hanta and in bed once the weekend hit.

Honestly, the morning of your birthday started off great because the professor of your first class of the day canceled class the day before, so you didn’t have to wake up stupidly early. It was also nice because you woke up and Hanta was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes followed by a soft happy birthday.

He cooks you breakfast and you spend the morning with him until you have to finish the rest of your day on campus. When you had to go, you found yourself feeling more upset that you had to leave Hanta, but you knew that you’d see him once you both were done for the day. He drops you off, kissing you deeply before you get out of the car.

You thank him softly as you close the car door, giving him one last smile before you start walking to your class. You check your phone on the way, seeing that you’ve gotten messages from your friends and family, and you assume that Sero must’ve told his friends because the group chat you were added to is full of happy birthday texts.

You smile as you read them, sending a reply once you get into the lecture hall. You don’t lose your smile the entire time you’re sitting in class or the entire day for that matter. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been so happy on your birthday, and you wonder if anything could top it. You assume because you’re so happy is why the day goes by so fast; your lab being one of the quickest you and your partner have ever done.

You have to hold back from skipping out of the building, breathing in deeply before you start to walk to where you’re meeting Hanta. You try to hold it in, but once his car is in sight, you’re close to running over to it. 

“I’m guessing someone had a good day,” he comments when you get in, and you lean over the console to kiss him.

“It went surprisingly well. I got out of lab so early today.” He grabs your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before he drives off, resting your hands on the console.

“I’m glad to hear that. You sure you don’t wanna do anything today? You have the time,” he asks, and you shake your head earnestly.

“No. I still have some work I need to finish up, and I wanna get it done so I don’t have to do anything this weekend,” you answer. “Also, I like spending time with you anyway.”

He smiles at that, kissing the back of your hand gently. When you get back to his house, you decide that you want to shower before you get into your work, wanting to decompress before you start working your brain. 

When you’re done and dressed, it doesn’t look like Hanta’s been in his room yet, and you hear your stomach rumbling. Eating hadn’t even crossed your mind today mostly because your body never told you that you were hungry and because the day when by so fast. You walk downstairs to try and find him so that you can ask him if he’s hungry too.

When you walk into the kitchen, you see that Hanta’s already got food on the table and before you can get his attention, you see that it’s from your favorite place. You walk up to him, wrapping your arms around him, and he jumps before you feel him relax against you. “You gave me a heart attack,” he laughs, and you smile as you let your head fall against his back.

“Sorry,” you mumble, and you loosen your grip a bit so that he can turn around. “Thank you for today, Hanta.”

“You’re welcome, baby,” he tells you softly, brushing some of your hair out of your face. “No tears today, right?” You smile widely as you shake your head. “Good,” he whispers. “You hungry?” You nod, staying quiet, and he pulls you to the table so that you can eat. 

The food seems to taste even better than it usually does, and that only seems to boost the amount of serotonin that’s running through your body. You both eat in comfortable silence, Hanta eventually breaking it when you ask him how his day went. You find yourself looking at him the entire time he talks, and this might be the first time that you’re thinking about how much you actually like him.

He’s been nothing but supportive since you met him; making sure you’re taking breaks when you’re studying, making sure you’re not studying too hard, and helping you out when you need it even though he never really understands what you’re doing. And now doing all this for your birthday. You wouldn’t say that your heart starts racing, but you definitely feel something run through you that feels amazing.

“I got one more thing for you,” he tells you, breaking you out of your thoughts. “But you have to close your eyes.” You playfully frown at him, but you do it anyway, hearing him shuffling around, the sound of plates being moved and stuff being opened filling your ears. You honestly have no idea what he’s doing, and then you hear a plate being set down in front of you. “You can open them.”

You slowly peel your eyes open, gasping softly when you see a cupcake with a candle on it. It’s nowhere near a birthday cake, but there’s not a single part of you that cares. Hanta sits down next to you again, scooting his chair closer to you before softly singing happy birthday. You’re smiling so big that your face is hurting, and he kisses you once he finishes singing.

“Make a wish, sweetheart,” he whispers against your lips. You pull away, closing your eyes for a few seconds before you open them and turn to blow out the candle. “What’d you wish for?”

“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” you say, laughing softly.

You wished that you could be this happy for the rest of your life, and you’re pretty sure that whether you tell Hanta or not, this feeling will never leave.

It’s the weekend already and you still feel like you’re on top of the world. Since you got a lot of work done, you’re not doing anything this weekend, and you spend most of your Saturday in bed with Hanta. You had absolutely no plans, only getting out of bed to eat and then throwing yourself under the covers right after.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go out today?” Hanta asks you softly, and you look up from your phone, locking it before you smile at him.

“I’m sure. I just wanna spend today doing nothing.” You move closer so you can kiss him, keeping it a little longer before you pull away, going back in to give him another one. "Doing nothing with you, of course," you whisper, shuddering a bit when you feel his fingers rubbing at your hip.

"Really?" he hums quietly, smiling a little as his hand finds its way under your shirt. His finger picks at the side of your underwear, and your toes curl at the motion. He lets his hand drift down your thigh as you nod, and a soft gasp leaves when his hand fits its way in between your legs.

"Well, what if I told you I had something planned today?" he says as his fingers ghost over your folds. 

"L-Like what?" you manage, your answer delayed when he pulls your underwear out of his way. He rubs his thumb over your clit as he slowly slides his leg in between yours so that he can keep touching you. 

"Try and guess, baby," he teases as his finger rests at your entrance. You sort of hear what he says, but you're not totally focused on it, your attention mostly on his fingers. 

"I dunno," you mumble, your eyes closing as he slowly slides into you. He shifts, carefully maneuvering you onto your back as he speeds his fingers up, and you bite your lip to try and conceal your moans.

You've done stuff with Hanta since that day in your dorm, but you haven't slept together yet. That's not really a big deal for you, but you can't help but think about how it would feel. If he's making you feel this good just from his fingers then it'll probably be tenfold when he finally fucks you.

Even though you've been in this position before, you're still so shy about it, and that does more to Sero than he'd like to admit. All it takes is a circle of his fingers, and you're putty in his hands as you hide your face with whatever you can.

You try to put your arm over your face, but he puts a stop to that before you can even get to your face like he knew it was coming. You feel tears leaking out of your eyes when they screw shut as that familiar feeling in your stomach starts to form.

He carefully pulls your lip from between your teeth, allowing every sound you make to be fully audible to his ears. "H-Hanta, 'm–" Your breathing starts to become airy as your hand grabs onto his wrist. 

"Yeah, angel? You gonna cum?" he asks, waiting for your quick nod before he looks down at where his hand is disappearing inside of you. He can hear what his fingers are doing, the digits glistening every time he slides them out of you.

You start to move away from him slightly as the pleasure starts to become overwhelming, but Sero follows your every move. "C'mon, sweetheart, wanna see if I can make you squirt again."

You can't really hear what he's saying, your heart racing so fast you can hear it in your ears. You feel yourself gasp before your orgasm hits you like a truck, feeling like time stops before your legs start to shake as that knot snaps.

"Fuck, there it is," Hanta groans as you coat his wrist in your release. You're squeezing his fingers so tight that you nearly push him out, but he pushes through to let it run its course. "Such a good girl for me, angel."

You push at his wrist, whining his name until he finally slows down, the squelching you hear when he slides his fingers out is enough to make your already warm face even hotter. 

Your chest is heaving as Hanta's arm drips with your slick, and he slides his fingers into his mouth, groaning loudly as the taste of you fills his mouth. Your arms are resting over your face as you catch your breath, shivering when you feel it running down your legs.

"You made such a mess, baby," Sero whispers, and you can hear the smile he's wearing on his face, but you feel your face grow warm anyway, barely peeling your arms away.

"Sorry," you mumble, and his smile widens as he pushes at your arms softly. He kisses you once he gets your arms down, letting his tongue swirl in your mouth, and the kiss alone is almost enough to get you going again.

"Don't be sorry, sweetheart. I love making you do it," he says against your lips. He rubs over your body, kissing your forehead. "You okay?" 

You give him a small smile as you nod, your legs quaking when you move them even the slightest bit. Your phone rings, scaring you a bit, and you feel around for it, seeing Mina's name on the screen.

"What's up?"

"I need you to go shopping with me today, I'll be there in twenty." And then she hangs up. You pull the phone away from your ear, scoffing as you put the phone down. Sero chuckles softly as you shake your head.

"That girl, I swear." It takes you a while to finally get out of bed, but when you do, you slowly make your way to the bathroom. You shower, wincing a bit at the sensitivity you're still feeling as you wash yourself.

You're dressed and ready right as Mina pulls up, and Sero gives you a kiss goodbye before you walk out of the door. "Have fun, okay?" You nod, giving him a hug before you walk out to Mina's car.

“Did I really have to tag along today?” you ask once you get in the car, and Mina rolls her eyes as she drives off.

“Of course, you did. I didn’t get to see you on your birthday.”

“Well, I did have class that day. I didn’t wanna do anything too crazy,” you say. Mina drives to the mall, saying that she needed someone with her so that she wouldn’t buy too much stuff along with wanting a second opinion on whatever she tried on.

You shook your head but went with her anyway, and you didn’t intend to buy anything of course, but that doesn’t mean you can’t look around. You walk around the store, nothing really catching your eye until your eyes land on a dress.

It’s nothing too over the top, but it could be for any occasion if you dress right. “You like it?” You jump at the sound of Mina’s voice next to you, looking over to see her arms filled with clothes.

“Yeah, it’s really cute,” you comment, running your hand over it so that you can feel the fabric.

“You should at least try it on then. Come on, I’m gonna try this stuff on too.” Once you grab the dress off the rack, she’s pulling you toward the dressing room. You wait for Mina to try on all of her stuff, and there are actually a few times when she needed a second opinion. She decides to get most of the stuff that she tried on, leaving the ones that she doesn’t want on the rack.

“Okay, your turn.” She nearly pushes you into a room, closing the door behind you. You try it on, turning around as you look at yourself in the mirror. It is really pretty, and you start to consider getting it when Mina softly knocks on the door. 

You laugh as you step out, letting her see it. “Oh, my God, you look so good! You should get it!”

“You think?” you ask, looking down at yourself.

“Yes! I’ll even buy it for you.”

“Mina, you don’t have to do that.”

She rests her hands on your arms. “Just think of this as your birthday present,” she responds. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Also, there’s a sale going on, and if I spend enough money I get rewards,” she adds when you start to look unsure.

“Only if you want to,” you relent, and she smiles widely before letting you go back into the room to take the dress off. 

You walk out of the store with just your dress in your hands while Mina has two bags. “So, was that all you had planned today?” You look over to see that Mina’s looking at her phone, and she looks up at you before pocketing her phone.

“I was thinking of getting some food. You hungry?” You shrug before you nod, and the both of you head over to the food court. Mina offers to get the food while you find a seat, and she brushes you off when you try to pay her back, using the birthday excuse again.

You don’t know how long you sit with her and talk about anything that comes up, continuing the conversation long after you’ve finished eating. You offer to throw her food away, and when you come back, she’s looking at her phone again. “Is everything okay?”

She looks up quickly. “Yeah, Denki’s just stressing about something that’s no big deal.” You chuckle as Mina collects her bags. You figured that she was done with what she needed, but then she proceeds to take you to almost every store that you pass by. You don’t mind it at first, but when you come out of the sixth store and she hasn’t bought anything, you start to get just a teensy bit annoyed.

“Mina, you haven’t bought anything in over an hour,” you speak up, and she looks at the time on her phone.

“Wow, time really does fly! I’m ready to go if you are.” You nod eagerly, sighing to yourself in relief. When you walk out of the mall, the sun is down which really tells you how long you’ve been out because the sun was about to set when you walked in.

Mina drives by her place to drop her stuff off, and she urges you to put the dress on. “It’s good to make sure you still like it,” she presses, and you put it back on without much of a fight, sighing when you walk back out so she can see it. “Perfect! We have one more place to go to.”

She grabs your arm, pulling you out of her house. “Mina, wait!” You didn’t even get to take the dress off, but she’s already locking her front door and pulling you to the car. You want to ask Mina what she has planned, but then she’s pulling into Sero’s driveway.

You can barely get out of the car before Mina pushes you towards the door. “Open it!” You give her a suspicious look but open the door anyway. You frown when you see how dark it is in the house especially when Mina closes the door, but before you can question in, the lights turn on. 

“Surprise!!” You jump when all of your friends jump out from where they were hiding, and you can see birthday decorations plastered all over the room. You’re frozen in shock for a little bit, only moving when Mina puts a sash and crown on your head.

“What in the world?” you find yourself asking as you walk further into the house. 

“Happy birthday!” Mina yells, giving you a hug. 

“You did all this?”

“Nope, this was all Sero’s idea.” Mina walks away as Hanta comes up to you, and you haven’t stopped smiling since the surprise was revealed.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he tells you, leaning down to kiss you.

“You purposefully had Mina get me out of the house for this?” you laugh, and he laughs with you as he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Yep. Sorry, you were out for so long though, we got started later than I wanted.”

“I thought I was never gonna leave that mall,” you sigh, and he laughs again before gently pulling you towards the party. 

There aren’t a lot of people here, but it’s your closest friends and it’s more than enough. The crown and the sash are definitely overkill, but you make no move to remove them during the night. Almost everyone got you something, and even if it’s something small, you still love it regardless. Sero brings out a cake later on, and with everyone surrounding you, you feel that same feeling of happiness you were feeling earlier in the week.

Everyone cheers when you blow out the candles after they sing, and as Mina starts to cut the cake, you feel tears forming in your eyes. “What’s wrong?” Hanta whispers. He’s sitting next to you, turning your head toward him so that he can wipe your tears.

“I’m just really happy,” you say, sniffling as you smile widely. “Thank you for this, Hanta. I love it.” You lean over to kiss him softly, having a difficult time wiping the smile off your face.

“Of course, angel. I’m glad you’re having fun.” 

You stay glued to Hanta’s side for the rest of the night, sharing a slice of cake with him. He never leaves your side either, and the house is filled with laughter and conversation. You wish that this moment could last forever even though you know it won’t, but for the first time in a long time, you’ve really enjoyed your birthday. And it’s all thanks to Hanta.

“What?” he asks you when he catches you looking at him.

“Nothing,” you whisper, shaking your head. You don’t give him any more than that, and he doesn’t push you, tightening his arm around you as he kisses your forehead.

The end of the semester sneaks up on you a lot faster than you like. All of a sudden, you’re stacked with last-minute exams all the while preparing for your final exams. You spend a lot of time studying with Mina since the class you share is the first final exam you both have. 

You wouldn’t say you’re worried about it, but the content isn’t the easiest and the exam is cumulative which makes you a little bit uneasy. Luckily, it’s your hardest class this semester, so you have a little bit more room to allow this class to take up most of your study time. 

Sero's been busy as well, trying to finish up most of his projects before classes end. He volunteered to present his work at an art show the art department is hosting, but his professor suggested creating something new instead of presenting pieces he's already done.

Of course, he had talked about this with them way before the semester was coming to a close, but he couldn't really find any inspiration, and now he had nothing to present. He has maybe one painting that he might use, but it's not his best work.

You've been taking it easy the last couple of days since you and Mina thoroughly studied out your brains, so you won't see her anymore until you're taking the exam. This means you've been with Sero more, but you notice that he's still in his art studio even though he was there before you left.

You had been going back and forth from your dorm to the library and vice versa since you were studying, and as much as you loved spending time with Sero, you wanted to keep your mind clear and focused.

When you finally get back to his house, you slowly step into the art studio, seeing Hanta standing in front of a half-painted canvas.

"Have you been in here for the past couple of days?" you ask him softly when you walk up to him. He turns to you, and you easily let him fall into you, his head falling into your neck as his hands loosely rest on your hips.

"Yeah. I don't know what to do about this art show," he mumbles.

"Well, what you have so far looks good," you comment, turning your head a little to look at what he’s already drawn

"It's not good enough for me, though." 

“Maybe you should take a break,” you offer softly. “You’ve been working on this for a while. Maybe if you step back for a bit, something will strike.” You don’t know if he’s listening, but you start to move toward the door anyway.

You grab his hand once the distance between you starts to increase, but it takes a little bit of pulling on your part to get him to move. You pull him to his room, and you lay down on the bed first, pulling him onto the bed when he doesn’t move once you get comfortable.

He lays on top of you, and you turn the TV on, putting on one of your favorite shows before you set the remote aside. You run your fingers through Hanta’s hair while your other hand rubs over his back. Hanta sighs heavily but he focuses on the TV anyway, and he realizes how much he missed being with you. 

He hadn’t really been paying attention to how much time had passed because he was stressed about his work. He’s glad you pulled him out of there because he’s already starting to feel at ease, his shoulders aching when he relaxes from how long they’ve been tense. He can feel his eyelids growing heavy as he tries to watch the show, but he doesn’t keep it up for long, letting them fall closed.

Hanta swears that he only closed his eyes for a second, but when he opens them again, the TV is off, and it’s dark in the room. Hanta looks around, seeing that you’re not laying in the bed with him, and he looks at the clock on his nightstand to see that it’s late at night. He rolls over, feeling like he could sleep for longer even though he just found out he slept all day.

But then his stomach grumbles loudly, and he knows there’s no way he can go back to sleep now. He yawns loudly as he sits up, taking a couple more moments to wake up a little more before he stands. He brushes his teeth to get that taste out of his mouth before he heads toward the stairs. He’s looking for you as he makes his way down to the kitchen, and he can hear music coming from downstairs along with smelling something really good.

He yawns again as he gets to the kitchen, seeing you stirring something on the stove as you sway to the music that’s playing. He waits until you set the spoon down to try and get your attention, and you jump when you feel his hands at your waist.

“You really don’t make any noise when you walk,” you breathe, and Sero chuckles softly, looking over your shoulder to see what you’re making. “I’m pretty sure you’re starving, but I didn’t wanna wake you up. You were sleeping like the dead.”

“Yeah, I can’t remember the last time I’ve gotten some sleep,” he responds. You turn around with a small frown on your face.

“You need to take better care of yourself, Hanta,” you scold lightly, pressing your finger to his forehead gently. He smiles, grabbing your hand so that he can plant a small kiss on your skin.

“Yeah, I know. I just got too caught up…but it might happen again,” he admits, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Well, you should eat. I’m almost done.” He hums as you turn around, and you feel his arms wrap around you, but he doesn’t let you go. You shake your head, but let him stay since you’re almost done cooking anyway.

You make a plate for the both of you, and you carry both as Hanta stays attached to you until you get to the table. You wonder if he’ll make you sit in his lap since he seems to be super clingy right now, but he lets you have your own seat. It must’ve been a while since he’s eaten because you’ve barely made it halfway through your plate, and he’s already done. 

You made more just to be on the safe side and you’re glad you did. You offer to make him another plate once you finish up yours, handing him the plate before washing yours in the sink. You clean up the dishes you cooked with while Sero finishes eating. You sit on the counter while he washes his dish, and neither of you makes any move to start a conversation.

He dries his hands off before stepping in between your legs, and your hands slide over his shoulders. He leans down so that his face is inches from yours, and you both look at each other in the eyes, laughing softly. “Hi,” he whispers, letting his hands move under your (his) shirt.

“Hi,” you echo, and he kisses you gently. “Are you gonna be staying up again?” He sighs softly before he shakes his head, moving his arms so that he can rub over your thighs.

“I think I still need to take a break,” he answers. “Were you gonna go back to sleep?”

“No, I kinda took a power nap earlier, so I’m gonna be up.” He nods and you look around, looking back at Hanta as you smile. “I was gonna bake some cookies if you wanna do it with me,” you offer.

He chuckles as he steps back so you can get off the counter. You grab all of the ingredients you need, and he grabs all of the supplies you’ll need. When you went out to the store earlier in the week, you didn’t really know what cookies you wanted to make, so you both just make a handful of all of the ones that you wanted.

Making the batter takes longer than it should since Hanta either keeps trying to eat the raw batter or keeps hitting you with the flour. The latter causes flour to be all over both of you, the counter, and the floor. An hour has passed before you finally put all the cookies in the oven.

“You’re gonna have to clean all this up, you know?” you tell him as you wash your hands. He washes his hands after you before crowding you against the island.

“Yes, ma’am,” he muses before he grabs you by your hips to set you on the counter. “You just sit here and look pretty.”

“That was my plan,” you jest, and he smiles, kissing you on the forehead then your nose and lips before he starts cleaning. You listen to the music you’re still playing as the sweet smell of the cookies fills your nose. You both hum to the music as Hanta moves all the dishes into the sink so that he can wipe off the counters.

You slide off the counter to check on some of the cookies after you check the time on your phone, and you gently hip-check Hanta out of the way so you can open the oven. You laugh when he pokes you in your side, and you use the handle of a spoon to check if they’re cooked through.

One of the pans is finished, so you slide an oven mitt on your hand and pull them out. You set them on the stove as you close the oven. The pan has sugar cookies on them, and they were the first ones that you and Hanta made. Instead of sitting on the counter while you wait for them to cool off, you wrap your arms around Hanta, resting your head on his back.

You always talk about how clingy Hanta gets, but if you think about it, you’re probably doing it just as much as he does. You don’t know how to explain it; it just feels natural, like something that just feels right. Every time you’re near him, it just feels like your whole mood gets better. Sometimes, you don’t even realize how down your mood is until you’re in Hanta’s arms.

He’s almost done washing everything while you continue to check the cookies and take them out if they’re fully cooked. When you finally get the last pan out of the oven, you turn it off before you try a sugar cookie. Hanta turns to you right as you take a bite, and you hold it out to him for him to do the same. He takes a bigger bite than you did, so you let him have the rest of the cookie.

You both don’t eat all of the cookies since you just finished eating dinner, but you do eat a few from each pan. “Mm, I love this song,” Hanta says as he finishes a cookie. You finish yours as he grabs your hands to pull you to the living room so you can hear the song better.

You’ve never heard the song before, but you follow him anyway. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him as he starts to slowly spin around in a circle. You let your arms loosely wrap around his neck as he softly hums the song. He sings the lyrics as he looks down at you, and you smile at him as you listen to him.

You close your eyes after a while, and you rest your head against his. It’s like time slows down as the song surrounds the two of you, and Hanta moves your head so that it’s resting on his chest. He rests his chin on the top of your head gently as he hums the song.

As the song comes to an end, you can feel the energy you got from your nap earlier running out, trying your best to conceal your yawn, but Hanta hears it. He doesn’t say anything, pulling you upstairs to his room. You practically flop onto the bed, feeling the rush of fatigue hit you suddenly. 

Sero slides into bed next to you after turning the lights off, and your blinking is already slow when he pulls the blanket over the both of you. “Goodnight, baby,” Hanta whispers before he huffs a bit. “Or good morning, I guess,” he adds, noting how the sunrise is starting to peak through the curtains.

You hum softly, a small smile appearing on your face for a bit before your face falls. “Goodnight, Hanta.”

~

When you wake up, you roll over before you notice that you’re alone in the bed. The sun is well up in the sky, and you would just go back to sleep, but you really have to pee. You groan softly, throwing the blankets off of you and stretching when you stand. After you use the bathroom, you decide to see where Hanta went.

You check his art studio first since it’s on the same floor, and you call his name softly as you push the door open. You walk in to see him painting, and he’s so focused that he doesn’t even hear you come in. You walk a little closer to him, calling his name a little louder so that you don’t scare him as you approach him.

He quickly looks over his shoulder, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips before he turns back around. “What’re you doing up?”

“I had to pee,” you tell him as you look at what he’s doing before you look over him, seeing that he’s covered in paint, having it all over his face, fingers, arms, and torso. “How long you been at it?”

“I only slept for like an hour, I dunno,” he nearly mumbles, and you don’t really press him with any more questions. 

Mina had warned you about this a while ago, telling you that whenever inspiration strikes, he’ll work until it’s finished, and there’s almost nothing that could break him from it. You decide you don’t want to get back into bed by yourself, so you grab a blanket from his room.

He has a couch in his studio, so you make yourself at home, laying down and curling yourself under the blanket. You watch him work, wondering what inspiration struck him since he was in such a slump not too long ago. You notice that he has the song that was playing last night that he was singing, and it makes you smile as the memories fill your head.

Once you settle into the couch, you can feel yourself starting to feel sleepy. You didn’t check the time when you woke up, but it doesn’t feel like you got much sleep, so you don’t fight it when it comes back.

When you wake up, Hanta is in the same position that you last saw him in. He seems to be working on something different, and you starting to think that he’s been at this for a while now. The music is still playing in the room, and your stomach grumbles a little when your body starts to shake the sleep off.

If you’re hungry, then Hanta has to be as well, but you don’t think you’d be able to pull him away for even a second. You go into the bathroom to brush your teeth before you go downstairs to try and figure out what you want to eat. When you walk into the kitchen, you see that it’s completely empty, so Hanta must’ve put the cookies up earlier.

It’s nearly the afternoon, so you’re not really in the mood for breakfast, so you just decide to heat up dinner from last night. You make yourself a plate before grabbing two bottles of water and making your way back to the studio.

You set yours on the couch while you put the other one on the floor next to the easel that Hanta’s using, but not in a spot where he could knock it over. “Hanta, you should eat,” you try.

“In a minute, I promise,” he hums, and a smile pulls at the corner of your lip as you roll your eyes. You hold out some of the food on your fork in Hanta’s direction, and he barely registers that it’s there. You try to put it in his line of sight, and he eats it off the fork, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the canvas.

You feel a little better that he has something on his stomach even if it isn’t a lot, but you don’t want to risk ruining his painting, so you give him his space and sit back down on the couch. This is honestly how you spend the next couple of days. You try to get a little bit of food in Hanta’s stomach, and you notice that he’s drinking the water even though you’ve never seen him pick up the bottle.

You sleep on the couch whenever fatigue gets to you because you don’t want to be in a different room than Hanta, and you want to make sure that he doesn’t pass out or anything. Every time you wake up or walk back into the room, he seems to be covered in more paint than he was the previous time you saw him. Once a couple of days pass, you wonder if he’s going to make the deadline for the art show he mentioned.

You didn’t ask him if what he was painting was for that event because you were confident you weren’t going to get an answer from him. But you’re hoping that he’ll be done soon because you miss him. This is the first time since you’ve met that his attention has been on something longer than it’s been on you. You try to ignore the jealousy you’re feeling, but sometimes it can’t be helped.

You’ve dozed off again, and you can hear someone calling your name, but you’re trying to figure out if it’s coming from the real world or your dream world. As you start to become more aware of the voice, you can feel something rubbing at your cheek. You open your eyes slowly to see Hanta squatting down in front of you, his face level with yours.

“Hanta?” you mumble. “Are you done?”

“Yeah, I am,” he answers softly with a small smile. You look past him to see that he’s added another canvas to the three he already had. “Thank you for taking care of me, baby.”

You practically gush at the praise, that smile he always wears would make you melt like it always does if you weren’t laying down. “Of course. Can’t have my boyfriend passing out on me.”

He chuckles a bit as you yawn. “Why don’t you get in bed? I’m gonna shower, and I’ll be in there with you soon.” You make a noise of protest but slowly get up anyway. Hanta quickly kisses you on the forehead before you leave, and you make the short walk to his room, crashing on the bed once it’s in reach.

You pull the blanket up to your chin as you snuggle into the bed, getting comfortable since you’ve been sleeping on the couch for a while. You fight sleep for as long as you can, wanting to wait for Hanta to slide in next to you. You fall asleep eventually, not realizing it until you feel something running over your face.

You slowly peel your eyes open, Hanta’s face coming into view and becoming less blurry. “Hey, angel,” he whispers, and you smile weakly before moving closer to him. “Go back to sleep.”

“But I wanna talk to you,” you mumble. “I haven’t spent time with you in, like, days.” Your words are slow since you’re so tired, but you keep talking anyway. You lift your head up, resting your chin on his chest so that you can keep looking at him. “And I didn’t see you today because I had that exam.”

“Oh, shit. I forgot about that. I’m so sorry.” 

You slowly shake your head. “Don’t worry about it. I know you had stuff to do too.”

“So, how do you think you did?” he asks, smiling at how sleepy you are.

“I don’t think I did great, but I don’t think I failed either,” you respond. “But I hope that Mina passes because she’ll have to take the class again if she fails.”

“Ah, I’m sure she did fine,” Hanta says, wrapping his arm around you as he guides your head to lie down on his chest. “Now, go to sleep, baby. You’re stupidly tired.”

“Yeah, but I wanna talk to you,” you say softly even though you’re letting the fatigue take over.

“You can talk to me as soon as you get some sleep. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head.

You went to the art gallery to see the paintings that Sero made since he wouldn’t let you see them until they were displayed. They were beautiful of course, and you were mostly impressed that he was able to finish four paintings in less than a week. Neither of you stayed long, and you helped him bring all of them back to his house.

He puts them up in his art studio, and you really look at them. “I can’t believe that you did this in so little time.”

“I had you to thank,” he says, wrapping his arms around your middle. “Having a muse is no joke.”

You laugh a little, shaking your head as you sink into him. “You always say that.”

“Cause it’s true,” he presses. “I made all of this because you were the one that pulled me away when I wasn’t making any progress. You inspired all of this.” You can’t help but smile, and when you really look at each one, you can see things in the paintings that relate to what you and Hanta had been doing for the last week.

“Well, I’m glad I could help,” you respond softly, the beauty of his paintings really hitting you when you realize that they represent the two of you. God, you really like him, and by the looks of his art, he feels the exact same way.

Second semester is well underway, and you're so glad that you didn't stack it up this time. It's not exactly smooth sailing, but you're not drowning in work and due dates this time. Since Hanta will be graduating early, he's been doing a lot of work on his senior project, which takes up most of his time when he's really focused on it. The thought makes you upset if you think about it for too long, but Hanta's always making sure that you're not dwelling on it. Just because he's graduating doesn't mean that he'll be going anywhere.

By prioritizing your time, you give yourself a lot of free time on the weekends, which allows you to really reset before the next school week. You usually spend this time catching up on your Animal Crossing island or continuing your journey of reaching perfection in Stardew Valley. You hang out with your friends if you're feeling up to it, and sometimes you find yourself forcing Hanta to take a break when you notice he's been working for too long.

"Hanta, I know your hand is hurting like a bitch," you comment after you've seen him shake his hand multiple times as he looks over his work. "At least lay with me," you try, pulling softly on his wrist. "You've been working nonstop, you can't keep doing this."

He finally stands with a sigh, a tired smile appearing on his face when you look up at him, your smile beaming. You pull him into his room, and he lays on top of you when you get on the bed. You grab your switch as you start to explain everything that you've been doing so far in the games you're playing. His breathing starts to become more even, a little slower, so you lower your voice as you continue talking.

"I love you." You freeze mid-sentence because you were sure he was fast asleep. You pause your movements before you look down at him, and he's looking at you, his eyes half-open.

"What?" you whisper, his words finally starting to register in your head.

"I love you," he repeats. "You don't have to say it back, don't worry," he adds. "I just wanted to tell you because it's all I think about when I look at you." You let your hand fall to the side as he talks so that you can really look at him. "I really love you, like a lot."

You can tell he's about to fall asleep because his words are starting to jumble together, but you're still at a loss for words. "And I love when I wake up next to you, and I love how you take care of me," he continues before rubbing his face against your chest. "I really got lucky with you."

It's the last thing you hear him say before he finally goes to sleep, and you feel so overwhelmed with emotions, you don't know how to feel. You fight the tears in your eyes that you're certain came from your overwhelming happiness before you rub over his head.

He stirs a bit, but he doesn't wake up, and you stare at him for who knows how long before you get back to your game.

~

Hanta’s laying on the bed, half-watching the show that’s playing on the TV. He adjusts himself against the headboard once his lower back starts to ache a bit as he hears you coming back from the bathroom. His attention is totally focused on you when you carefully walk into the room, your attention on your phone. 

Your hair is slightly damp from detangling it in the shower, but Sero's more fixated on what you're wearing. You've got a lot more skin showing than usual, a tight fitting tank top on your body, and the lower half is only covered by your underwear.

He quickly moves over to your side of the bed as you plug your phone up, and he catches your wrist when you set it on the nightstand. "What's this?" he questions softly, making a point to only look at your body, and you look down at yourself before you look at him with a frown.

"What's what?" you say, sliding your fingers in between his. "My clothes?" you add with a quick laugh. He pulls you towards the bed, and you easily follow, getting on the bed on your knees before he guides you to sit in between his legs with your back against his chest.

You get comfortable, relaxing against him as he looks down your body over your shoulder. "It's different," he mumbles, resting his hands on your hips, one of them playing with the hem of your tank before dipping underneath to rub at your skin.

"Good different or bad different?" you ask quietly, and Hanta keeps his eyes on your chest, continuing to touch your body as he watches your nipples harden, eventually peaking through the material.

"Oh, sweetheart," he starts, finally looking you in the eyes. "There is nothing bad about this." Both of his hands make their way under your shirt as you gently place your hands on his thighs. "Why the change, hm?"

You were kind of hoping he wouldn't notice, but you are wearing something that you haven't really worn before, at least not at his house. You usually wear his shirts and shorts to bed, occasionally underwear if you feel like it, but you've never worn anything this revealing before.

You can thank Mina for that. You had been thinking about doing more with Hanta, but you didn't know how to start the conversation without being so awkward. So, you asked Mina and she said that this would help, but you don't know if you can even bring yourself to say it.

It took you about five minutes after putting your clothes on to walk out of the bathroom. "I just get hot at night sometimes," you say softly, looking away.

"Really?" he hums before his fingers reach your tits where they rub over them gently, purposefully avoiding your nipples. "Well, as long as you're comfortable." You don't respond, your breath catching in your chest a little due to Hanta touching you.

You try to focus on the show that's playing, but it's impossible. Your legs slide across the bed and against his legs as his hands divide into two paths across your body. One of his hands rubs in between your legs, but he keeps his fingers over your panties.

His other hand rubs over your stomach before he softly cups your tit. His finger gently rubs over your nipple, and your toes curl as you bite your lip, having such a hard time keeping quiet. He dips his fingers further down your body, smirking to himself when he can feel how you're soaking your underwear.

"Hanta," you mumble when you feel his lips on your neck.

"What?" he teases, letting his fingers dip under your panties, and you jump a bit when they immediately find your clit. You moan quietly when he rubs at your sensitive bud, and he moves his hand up to pull your shirt above your boobs.

He plays with the most sensitive parts of you, your head eventually falling back on his shoulder as your legs starts to struggle to stay open. You grab onto his wrist gently, but he doesn't stop touching you, and you almost forget what you were actually trying to do in the first place.

You don't know if you can even bring yourself to say it, and in your head you say that you need more time to boost your confidence, when in reality, Hanta's fingers are just too good. You let your eyes close as his fingers prod at your entrance, moving his hand from your chest so that he can continue to rub at your clit.

He doesn't even have to slide his fingers all the way in for you to feel your orgasm rising. You turn your head to the side, your grip on his wrist tightening as he kisses you softly. You can barely keep up with it, and he uses your distracted state to claim your mouth, letting his tongue move around yours before sucking on it.

You gasp into his mouth, your back arching away from him, and Hanta smirks as he watches you before turning his attention to where his fingers disappear under your panties. "You close?" he whispers even though he already knows the answer, his smirk turning into a smile when you quickly nod your head.

Your face screws up in that way that he loves, and you start to move into his fingers, which causes you to grind against him. He's already hard, so you moving gives him a little bit of challenge as his focus gets split just a little. His jaw clenches as he focuses on you and making you cum, encouraging you through it.

You cum with a gasp of his name, your body shaking as you try to keep moving your hips. He keeps his fingers moving until you start to settle down, and he easily slides them into his mouth after taking them out of you. You call his name again, and he hums as he looks down at you.

Your eyes are barely open, but he can see how your pupils are blown wide, and he'll never get tired of reducing you to this state. "What's up, baby?" he asks, using his other hand to rub over your tummy again.

"More," you start, and before he can press you about what you mean, you move your face into his neck.

"Can't give you what you want if you're not looking at me, angel," he counters softly, grinning when he can hear you whine a little.

You take a couple of deep breaths before he feels you move your head. "I wanna feel you," you mumble, "...inside me."

Hanta feels his world stop for a little bit as his dick twitches. His breath gets caught in his chest for a second, but he recovers quickly. "You sure?" You nod quickly. "I don't wanna hurt you," he continues even though there's nothing more that he would love to do.

"Maybe just the tip? I don't care, I just wanna feel you." He can't stop the groan that comes out of him. "Please, Han."

"Okay, okay, baby. I gotcha," he coos softly, moving so that he can lay you down. You watch him straddle you, and you look down to see that he's very much hard. He kisses you gently, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. "Are you sure?"

You nod quickly again, reaching for the top of his shorts, but he's quick to put his hands on top of yours. "And you'll tell me if you wanna stop."

"Yes, Hanta," you answer quickly. "I promise." You look him in the eye to let him know that you mean it. You try at his shorts again and this time he lets you, helping you slide them down to his knees. He pulls your underwear down and off your legs as you admire what's in between his legs, and you can feel your nerves start to come back.

Now that you're starting to lose that post-orgasmic high, your thoughts are starting to run wild again. You watch as he reaches into his nightstand, pulling out a condom, and reality starts to set in for you.

He looks at you again before he opens it like he could feel how nervous you are. "We don't have to do this, sweetheart," he reminds you again.

"I-I know, but I want to," you answer before your eyes trail down again. "You're just...really big," you breathe, saying the last part under your breath.

"And I'm not gonna go all the way unless you want me to, okay?" He leans down to kiss you, taking his time to help you ease your nerves. You can hear him rip the wrapper open, and you pull away to look at his hands.

"Do we really need that?" you ask, your voice genuine.

"Yeah," he answers, nodding his head. "I don't trust myself," he adds, but you don't seem to hear him because you're watching him slide the condom on. It's been a while for him, and he definitely doesn't trust his pull-out game, especially if he goes in raw. He grabs a pillow, having you lift your hips up so he can slide it under you.

You jump when you feel his fingers touch your hole, and he's quick to rub your thighs with his other hand. "Relax, baby, just breathe." He moves a little closer to you on his knees so that he can keep your legs open, and he uses his thumb to rub at your clit as he stretches you open.

You're still a little sensitive from your orgasm, but it doesn't take long for you to start soaking his fingers. "You ready?" he asks, and you nod quickly, giving him a verbal confirmation He guides himself towards your entrance, and he continues to rub your leg. "Relax, okay?" he whispers before he moves again. He rubs at your clit, which is definitely welcomed when you feel him start to push in.

It's definitely bigger than his fingers, and you wince just a bit, your breath catching for a second. The stretch starts to feel good though, and you can't help but moan as he keeps moving after you urge him to by gently pulling on his arm. You look up at him when he groans, seeing that he's let his head fall, stilling himself as he lets his hands fall beside you on the bed.

"How you feeling?" he asks after he takes a deep breath, lifting up his head to look at you.

You look down at where he's currently disappearing inside of you as you nod. "I'm okay, it feels kinda weird," you say honestly. "But you feel good." A low moan escapes him before he carefully bends his arms so that he can kiss you. "Can you move?" you ask against his lips.

He nods, moving inside of you a little deeper before sliding back out. It's not enough to really make you feel anything crazy, but you do feel better and lot less nervous about the whole thing. You spread your legs open a bit, watching him move, and you don't tell him to move any further inside of you, but you really do like feeling him inside of you. "Does it feel good for you?" You notice that he's been usually quiet, and you look at him, his eyes opening right after you do.

"Yeah," he sighs. "Really good." He groans again, and he didn't think that he could shake this much. His body is vibrating as he tries to keep his pace steady without going any further, but you're so tight, your pussy so snug around him. Suddenly, he's slowly sliding out of you, making you gasp, before he stutters out a breath. "F-Fuck, I can't--I can't," he gasps. "Sorry, baby."

"What's wrong?" you ask, watching his chest heave. He kisses you instead of answering you at first, trying to calm himself down first.

"Can't control myself," he mumbles against you. "You feel too good, and I don't wanna hurt you."

"O-Oh," you say, feeling heat rush to your face even though it's pretty warm, and you look away from him before you speak. "But I still want you to cum," you admit, having a hard time holding his eyes.

"Yeah?" he muses, smiling at you. You nod, shyly diverting your gaze, only looking at him when he lifts himself up. He sits back on his legs, and you watch him slide the condom off, chucking it into the trashcan. He sighs as he pumps himself, and you can't help but watch until he grabs your legs.

You let him move you, wondering what he's doing as he starts to lift your legs by your knees. He straightens your legs, moving them to the side so your ankles rest on his shoulder. You gasp softly when you feel him slide in between your legs, and he feels so hot against your skin.

He starts move his hips slowly, and his movements rub against your clit which causes you to release a quiet moan. His hips slap against the back of your legs as he speeds up his thrusts, and you can see the tip peaking out every time he moves forward. You try to squeeze your thighs together, and he moans as he starts to lean forward, pushing your legs to your body.

"Shit," he groans, and you can feel yourself getting wet just watching him lose himself as he fucks your thighs. He plants his hand on the bed next to you as his hips start to lose their rhythm. He moans as his eyebrows crease, and you gasp when you feel something warm hit your stomach.

You look down to see him shooting onto your skin, slamming his hips against you a couple more times before he slows. He lets your legs go, and you immediately let them fall around him as he catches his breath. "Fuck, that was so good," he sighs, and he gets up so that he can clean you up as you roll your ankles, trying to circulate the blood in your feet.

He cleans the both of you up, and he lays down next to you, rolling over onto his side as he moves you into the same position. "You okay?" he asks, rubbing over your body. You hum your answer before he kisses you on your forehead. You both listen to the show playing on the TV, but neither of you is watching, just focusing on each other's breathing.

"As much as I love seeing you barely wearing anything, you could've just asked me," he says suddenly, and you feel your face warm.

"I know," you mumble, and he chuckles quietly, kissing your skin again in a quick apology.

You fight tears for as long as you can when Hanta graduates. You're happy for him of course, and you find yourself laughing when all of your friends joke that he ditched them and won't be suffering with the rest of them. Since it's the summer, you all have plans to hang out over the break, just a way to get away from school and just have some fun.

You all decide to go to the beach, which is very predictable, but you all had been saving up money, and you all wanted to spend time with Hanta before he goes on and does whatever he's going to be doing. Because everyone's exam schedule is different, you all decide to just get to the hotel on your own time. You and Hanta go together, getting there before everyone else.

You have a couple of days until everyone else gets here, and you spend those days at the beach or in the hotel if it's too hot. When everyone finally gets to the beach, the rest of the week goes by in a blur. You all go to escape rooms, sightseeing, try all kinds of restaurants, and of course, spend time at the beach.

You ask Hanta to rub sunscreen on your back, which just leads to him trying to convince you to let him do your whole body. He pouts when you tell him no, sulking on the blanket he has on the sand, and you roll your eyes before applying the rest of your sunscreen. You play in the water with Denki and Jirou for a while before the heat starts to get to you. You leave them alone since they somehow still have so much energy.

You lay down on your blanket next to Hanta, and he doesn't move when you lay down or when you were walking toward him. He has sunglasses on, so you assume that he's asleep. You dry yourself off a bit before you move to lay on your stomach, scrolling on your phone as you look around the beach.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you feel something touch your ass, and you look over your shoulder to see Hanta's head facing toward you. You yelp softly when he squeezes, pushing his hand away. "Hanta, you can't do that," you laugh, moving his hand away when he tries to touch you again.

"But you look so good," he tries, and you brush his hand away once more before you shift out of his reach.

"You can touch me all you want at the hotel," you argue lightly, shaking your head as you look at your phone again. You can see Hanta get up in your peripheral, but you don't think much of it. You sit up getting ready to turn over when Hanta pulls you to your feet. "What are you doing?"

He suddenly picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder before he grabs your stuff with his other hand. You shout in surprise before you start laughing, telling him to put you down at your hit his back softly with your fists. Since your hotel is on the beach, it doesn't take him long to reach the doors, and he sets you down right before he gets to the building.

He doesn't give you time to catch your breath, pulling you into the hotel and toward your room. You wonder what in the world has gotten into him, and he barely lets the room door close before his hands are all over your body. "Hanta, what the hell are you doing?" you ask lightly, but you don't stop what he's doing.

"I'm touching you all I want," he jabs, and you laugh as you roll your eyes.

"But I'm covered in sand," you try, and you think he ignores you, but he's pulling you toward the bathroom. He turns the shower on, undressing himself before he quickly undresses you, checking the water before getting in the shower with you in tow. "Hanta, you don't even--"

"Why are you being so mean to me?" he whines as he presses you against the wall. Your back arches, pushing your body into him because the wall is so cold. "Just let me love on you." You can't help but laugh, but you rest your arms around his shoulders as he lets his hands rub over your body. He stares at you, the loving look in his eyes still making you nervous despite seeing it all the time.

"I love you," he says, squeezing your hips before letting his hands rub up your back.

"So, I've been told," you tease, and you stand on your toes to reach his lips. He hums when you kiss him, leaning down so that you don't have to keep standing on your toes.

"You're so beautiful," he tells you softly.

"Someone has also told me that," you laugh before you look down to yawn, blinking rapidly as your eyes start to water. "I wanna take a nap," you whisper, even though it's pretty obvious. Hanta moves so that you're under the stream, and you let him wash your body, neither of you says a word, letting the silence along with the sound of the water running fill the air.

He takes care of you before he takes care of himself, drying you off first before moisturizing your skin with your lotion. You lightly push him away so that he can dry off because the water dripping from him lands on your skin and it's freezing cold. You get dressed, spreading out on the bed before you curl into yourself as you roll onto your side. You get under the blankets, rubbing your legs against the sheets as content floods your system.

You hear Hanta slide into the bed next to you, but you don't turn around, feeling his hand rub over your body. You eventually grab his hand, lacing your fingers with his. He kisses all over your face and neck, making you giggle before you roll over to face him. You adjust your hand, letting go of his to turn it around before holding his hand again.

You shift up a bit so you can kiss him, the action making the both of you smile immediately. You kiss him again and again and again until he chuckles. "What's up with you?" he whispers, and you pull away but keep your face close to his.

"Nothing," you say playfully with a shrug. "I'm just really happy."

"Yeah?" he says, his smile widening.

"Yeah," you respond quickly with a nod as your smile widens with his. You kiss him again before you rest your top half on his. He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand while his other hand rubs over your back. You can feel that fatigue you felt earlier in the shower creep up on you, yawning loudly as you let your eyes close.

You wake up, wondering when you went to sleep, finding yourself in bed by yourself. You sit up slowly, stretching as you try to wake up, and the clock on the nightstand tells you that you've been sleeping for about an hour. Hanta is walking out of the bathroom as you blink heavily, really trying to get the sleep out of your eyes.

"How'd you sleep?" he asks, getting back into bed. Before you can answer, he's already laying down, gently taking you with him.

"I'm still so tired," you mumble, snuggling into him.

"Mm, I bet," he hums. "You've been out in the sun all day." You didn't really make any progress with trying to wake yourself up, and with Hanta's body heat radiating against you, it's an even bigger fight. "Go back to sleep. I need you well rested for a later tonight."

"Hm? What's tonight?" you whisper as you start to go in and out of sleep.

"A surprise." You feel him kiss your forehead, and you smile subconsciously, completely forgetting to question him about the surprise as you fall back asleep.

~

You have a lot more energy when you wake up the second time, seeing that the sun is already starting to set. Hanta's out of bed once again, telling you that you need to get ready when you sit up. He still won't tell you what's going on, but you get out of bed and head to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. You walk back out to get dressed before you go back into the bathroom to put some earrings on.

Hanta walks into the bathroom when you put the last one on, and you smile at him through the mirror. He returns it, wrapping his arms around you before kissing you on your head. "You look beautiful, angel." You lean back into him, letting your head fall back so that you can kiss him.

"Thank you," you whisper. "Are you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"Nice try," he smiles, and you playfully roll your eyes at another failed attempt. "But I do have something for you." You raise your eyebrows in interest. "Close your eyes, okay?" You move your head back down before you let your eyes close, and you can hear him moving behind you.

You jump a little when you feel something cold touch your neck, and you wait until he tells you to open your eyes. When you open your eyes they automatically fall on the necklace he's put on you. You step forward, closer to the mirror, to look at the gold jewelry, seeing his name caged in by two roses; the flower that he put in your hair when you first started hanging out with him.

"I love it," you say, running your fingers over it. "It's so pretty."

"Like the girl that's wearing it," he muses, and you can't help but laugh, turning around to give him a hug.

"Thank you, Hanta."

"You're welcome, baby." You pull away, finally taking him in since you're not blocking your own view in the mirror. The first thing you notice is that he's not wearing the necklaces that he usually is, instead it's the same one you're wearing except your name is the one on it. You freeze for a split second before you run your fingers across it.

"You got one too?"

"Of course," he answers, tilting your head by your chin so that he can kiss you. "Cause I'm all yours." The statement makes your face warm, but pride swells in your chest at the same time because he's right. And you're all his. You wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him again, and you fight the urge to whine when he pulls away too soon. "C'mon, we're gonna be late."

He pulls you out of the bathroom so that you can put your shoes on, and you follow him out of the hotel room, letting him lead the way since you still don't know what he has planned. Since the sun has started to go down, the air is much cooler at night, and there's a nice breeze that carefully blows through the air when you step outside. With the light from the sun starting to disappear, the boardwalk is lively, all of the lights starting to light up the sky.

He takes you there first, and it's got food, games, and rides. There are people everywhere, and he holds your hand the entire time as you walk around, taking it all in. Once you get there, he lets you take the lead, following wherever you go. The first thing you think about is food since it's all you can smell, and you spend a good portion of your time just trying to narrow down your options.

You're finally able to pick one once your stomach starts growling for you to feed it something, and Hanta ends up getting food from your second choice so that you can try it also. You don't get a lot of food because you know you're going to be doing a lot of walking, so you don't want to stuff yourself full. You head towards the games first, starting with the ones where you have to compete with Hanta.

You only win a couple of the games, but you're happy nonetheless especially since Hanta gives you all the prizes he wins. You move through the area, having a hard time hiding your gasp every time you see a stuffed animal prize that you want. And every time you do it, Hanta is immediately going over to the booth to win it for you. Both of you can barely carry anything, and you can't help but laugh at yourself as you walk through the boardwalk.

Your feet start aching after a while, and your arms are starting to burn from holding everything for so long. Hanta tells you to wait right outside of the boardwalk before he takes the stuffed animals that you're holding. He reassures you that he can hold them all before he walks away, and it's not even five minutes until he comes back empty-handed.

"Please don't tell me that you ran to the hotel and back," you say hesitantly, letting him grab your hand and walk you in a different direction.

"No, I asked Denki if he could hold them for you," he tells you after he chuckles. "I had more planned tonight, so I asked him to take them." You want to ask him what else he has planned, but you notice that you're coming up on the Ferris wheel. You get lucky with your timing because you barely have to wait to get on it.

Hanta lets you get in first before he slides into the cart next to you. It takes a while for you to get to the top since everyone stops at the top of the wheel, but you reminisce about the time that you're spending with Hanta nonetheless. He keeps you close to him with his arm wrapped around you so that you're tucked into his side, and you take in the sights around you as you get higher.

You start to take pictures once you get high enough to see a lot of stuff, and Hanta watches you fondly the entire time, happy that you seem to be really having fun. Your excitement starts to dwindle into awe as you reach the top, really taking in everything that you can see. "God, this is so pretty," you admire, nearly getting lost in everything you're looking at.

"Yeah, it is," he whispers, causing you to finally look at him only to find him looking right at you.

"You're not even looking at the view," you joke.

"Why would I when you're the best thing my eyes have seen?"

"You're always saying that," you counter as the blood rushes to your face, and you try to shift your attention back to the sky, but he stops you quickly by softly catching your chin.

"Because it's true, and I'm gonna keep saying it. You're the prettiest damn woman I've ever seen," he declares. "You take my breath away every time I see you first thing after I wake up."

"Hanta." He smiles fondly at your reaction, chuckling a little as he watches you.

"I love you so much," he continues, and you want to tell him how you feel the same way, but it's hard for you to get your words out in the way that you want. You know Hanta knows that, and you hope that you can find the words that you want to say, but you decide to worry about it another time when he kisses you.

You miss the view at the very top of the Ferris wheel in favor of letting yourself melt into him, but you're not upset about that at all. You sigh softly when he deepens the kiss a bit as he starts to lean forward. It makes you move backward until you're pressed against the window at the same time you feel his hand sneaking up your leg.

"Are you really trying to feel me up right now?" you question playfully, and his smile tickles your lips as he his hand continues its path.

"What if I was?"

"People can probably see us, Hanta," you try even though you make no move to stop him.

"Well, then you shouldn't have worn something that gives me easy access."

You scoff softly. "Hey, that's not fair--" He cuts you off gently by kissing you again, bending one of your legs at the knee so that your foot is resting on the seat. He nudges your other leg away, and he slides closer to you, further trapping you in between the wall and him. Your hands dig into his shoulders as you feel him reach in between your legs under your dress.

You gasp when he starts to rub over your covered pussy, and you can barely feel the Ferris wheel starting to move again. You want to be embarrassed about how anyone could see you, but right now it's only making you even more aroused. "Hanta," you whisper, barely able to get his name out since he's starting to reach into your underwear. "W-We're going down."

He just hums into your mouth before carefully pushing his tongue inside, and you easily let him. "How does that make you feel?" he asks, and he's barely got his finger pressed against your entrance, but he can feel how you're throbbing at the thought. "Someone seems to be into it," he teases, and he pulls away, finally looking at you with a cheeky smile.

He lets his thumb rub over your clit, and you glance out the window to see that you're getting lower. You're caught in between wanting to push him away or pull him closer, and a stifled moan leaves your mouth. He kisses you again, this time a lot sloppier than before, the wet sounds of your mouth slotting together echoing in the cart.

He pulls away, a string of saliva the only thing keeping you connected until he breaks it. He slides his hand from between your legs, smiling at how gone he nearly has you. "You're so mean," you say breathlessly with a small pout. He kisses your forehead in apology as he closes your legs and fixes your dress.

"You love it though, right?"

"No," you huff, shoving him a little, but both of you know that you don't mean it. You're still flustered when you get off the Ferris wheel, and in the back of your head, you're wondering if someone really did see what you were doing. You let Hanta take your hand and guide you through the slew of people, and you're looking at your surroundings when you stop suddenly. Hanta quickly stops when you pull against his hand, turning around to see what made you stop.

"There's a photobooth!" you exclaim, pulling Hanta in the direction of it before he can even respond. There's no one inside when you pull the curtain aside, and you slide inside with Sero right behind you. Although, it's made known immediately that there definitely isn't enough room for the both of you on the seat because of how big he is. He waste no time sitting you on his lap, and you give him a look.

"What?"

"Behave," you say playfully, not needing to say much for him to understand. All he does is smile at you, but his hands stay on your waist, and you queue up the camera. You take so many pictures to the point where all you see is the negative image of the flash every time you blink.

You both smile at the camera for the first couple before Hanta plants his lips on your cheek for one. You do the same for another before he can't help but kiss you which last for a couple of takes. You both pull away to laugh, only looking at each other and completely forgetting about the camera.

"You havin' fun?" he asks, and you nod instantly, the big smile on your face enough of an answer for him. You both get out once the automated voice tells you that you're done taking the pictures, and you grab them from the holder. You smile fondly as you look at them, handing Hanta his copies.

He takes your hand in his again as you start to walk away from the boardwalk, and the night has started to become a little cooler with the wind picking up. Hanta gives you is jacket to wear before he guides you to the beach, the sand and part of the water illuminated by the moonlight.

"So, what was all this for anyway?" you ask, swinging you and Hanta's arms as you walk along the beach. He's got your shoes in his other hand as he shrugs, lifting his arm up to spin you around which makes you giggle.

"I just wanted to spend time with my girl." He pulls you into him, kissing you softly. "I know I said I wasn't going anywhere after graduating, but you never know what life throws your way," he says. "So, I want to make as many memories with you just in case it gets a little harder in the future."

"Well, I definitely won't forget this night," you tell him fondly, bringing your hand up so you kiss his. "Thank you, Hanta."

He lets go of your hand to brush your hair back. "Anything for you." You reach up on your toes to kiss him before you back away from him.

"I have a really crazy idea." He raises his eyebrows, watching you slide his jacket off, and they go even higher when you take your dress off after.

"Didn't think you'd be into skinny dipping, baby," he muses even though he's not going to object this at all.

"It's too cold to get totally naked," you argue. "But you gotta catch me," you tease, slowly tiptoeing backward, and Hanta's quick to start shedding his clothes. You turn around, shivering a bit when your toes touch the icy cold water. You're wondering when Sero's about to get undressed, and you scream when you're suddenly in the air.

You can hear Hanta laughing as he runs into the water with you in his arms, and he plops you down in the water. You yelp again at how ridiculously cold it is, your body instantly starting to shiver, and Hanta turns you around so he can put your hair up into a bun. "You're an ass. This water is freezing!" you scold playfully, rubbing your hands over your arms.

"Oh, it's not that bad," he responds before splashing you with water. You freeze as your mouth drops open, your body processing what just happened. When your brain finally catches up, you're quick to retaliate, throwing water back at him. A water fight ensues, both of you laughing loudly as you both go back and forth throwing water onto each other.

You manage to push him down, and he gasps loudly as he quickly gets to his feet. "Holy shit, that's fucking cold!"

"I told you!" you say before you try to run away because you know he's going to get his lick back. It's hard in the water, and his legs are longer than yours so he catches up to you easily. He scoops you up in his arms, and you squirm as hard as you can, but it's no use. You scream through your teeth when he squats, plunging your body into the water until your head is the only thing not in the water.

At this point, you're both laughing, and you splash him with water until he finally lets you go. You both stand, shivering as you try to catch your breath. "Do you think we'd get in trouble?" you ask, and Hanta looks around before he shrugs.

"Dunno, but this water is too cold to stay in." You agree, both of you making quick moves to get out and grab your stuff. You put your clothes back on even though they get soaking wet, and you both continue to shiver as you hold hands on the way back to the hotel.

You're both dripping water as you walk through the lobby and to your room, walking fast so you can get into a hot shower as soon as possible. Hanta unlocks and opens the door, and you both rush in but quickly stop when your eyes land on all of the stuffed animals in the room. You both look around before looking at each other, your laughs filling the room a split second later.

You decide to worry about it later, making your way to the bathroom. You both shed your clothes again, and you hang them dry as Hanta turns on the water. Once the water is warm enough, you both hop in quickly, sighing in relief when the warm water hits your skin. Hanta lets you stay under the water first, rubbing over your body to help you warm up faster.

You let him under the stream next, and once you both are warmed up, you wash yourselves. You wash Hanta's hair before he washes your body, and even as you start to wind down in the shower, there's a part of you that doesn't want to be any further from him. He ushers you out of the shower to dry off while he finishes, and you wipe yourself down with the towel before wrapping it around your body.

You decide to wait for Hanta, playing with the necklace he got you while you replay everything that happened today in your head. You must've zoned out because you jump a bit when you hear the shower curtain slide across the rod. You turn around, seeing Hanta step out, immediately grabbing a towel for his body. You grab a towel for his hair, and you can't help but stare at his muscles, watching the ones in his arms move and tense as he dries off.

You try to ignore the heat that's starting to form in between your legs by walking up to him and drying his hair off once he wraps the towel around his waist. You smile at each other as he leans his head down so you can wipe his hair, doing so until the towel is wet. You let the towel fall around his neck, but you don't let go of it just yet. "Okay, so maybe getting in the water was a bad idea."

He huffs. "Oh, definitely, but it was a lot of fun." You hum in agreement, and just looking at him right now makes you realize how hard you've fallen for him. You pull on the towel gently to guide his head down to you.

"I really had a lot of fun today, Hanta," you whisper after you kiss him.

"I'm glad, angel." He gives you a soft smile, and you pull him down to kiss him again. He easily follows, and you let go of the towel in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck. You bring your lips back together when he pulls away, and the air between the two of you slowly starts to shift.

His hands run up and down your body, before he bends down a bit to grab at your thighs. Your legs immediately wrap around his waist when he picks you up, and he slides his tongue into your mouth as he walks into the room. He rubs your skin under the towel, and the touch sends pleasant shivers up your spine. He gets on the bed, moving on his knees before he carefully sets you down on your back, barely creating space between the two of you.

He grabs your wrists in one of his hands, moving your arms up over your head as his other hand starts to split your towel. You spread your legs once you feel his fingers ghost over your thigh, keeping your lips on his because kissing him feels like it's addicting; it's something you can't help but do.

You gasp when he runs his hand up your body before he pulls at the towel so that it falls to your side, the movement mimicking curtains being drawn to reveal your body. Once Hanta gets the towel off, he leaves your lips to kiss down your face toward your neck. As his lips trail down your body, his hand is trailing up your body, and you wait in anticipation to see what he touches next.

You moan softly when his mouth reaches your tits at the same time his fingers reach your pussy, which makes him smile when he feels how wet you already are. His tongue circles your nipple as he runs his fingers through your folds before swirling his finger around your swollen clit. He still has your wrists in his hand, and that paired with his weight on top of you makes you even hotter all over.

You arch into him as he sucks at your chest, your moans growing in volume as he speeds up his ministrations on your sensitive bud. He keeps your legs spread with his own, letting one of his fingers drift down to your sopping entrance. "Hanta," you whimper when you feel his fingers carefully slide into you. He finally lets go of your wrists as he moves back up to kiss you again, and your toes curl simultaneously with his fingers as he presses on that magic spot inside of you.

Your hands instantly run through his damp hair, and dig into his shoulder, finding purchase anywhere that they can. You try to grab at his arm when he starts to increase the pump of his fingers, and he pulls away to look at the pleasurable look on your face. Your mouth falls open as you feel that knot building up in your stomach, and you can barely get his name out.

"Yeah, baby," he coos, giving you a sly grin. "You feelin' good?"

You nod quickly, your back arching off the bed. "M gonna cum, Han--ah!" Your face screws up as your legs start to shake, and you swear your foot is gonna cramp from how hard you're curling your toes.

"Go ahead, angel. Lemme see it," he urges, using his other hand to gently pinch at your clit which sends you over the edge. You moan his name as you clench around his fingers, your legs tightening around him before they go limp. You attempt to scoot away from him as he finger fucks you into oversensitivity, and he gives you relief a little while after, sliding his fingers out of you.

You try to catch your breath as your chest heaves, and Hanta rubs over your thigh as you come down. Your heartbeat is in your ears, and you vaguely hear him say something, but you're quick to stop him when he's about to get off of the bed. "Wait," you start, only saying enough to get him to stay still. He stops, looking back at you, and you take a deep breath before continuing. "What about you?"

"What about me?" he teases, and you drop your eyes to the tent that's currently in his towel. He leans back over you, planting his hands next to your head before moving down until his face is inches from yours. "Hm?" he presses, giving you a deep kiss that nearly takes your breath away.

"You can fuck me," you whisper, and although your face was about to cool down, it's definitely not anymore. His smile doesn't falter, but the playful look in his eyes turns dark, and to see it in real-time makes your sensitive core throb with need.

"Really?" he breathes, and you nod quickly, lifting your arms up so that they're resting around his neck. "You sure?" he asks after he pushes a quick breath through his nose.

"Yes, Hanta. I want you to." You pull him down so that you can slot your lips against his.

"I don't have a condom," he whispers even though his resolve is two seconds from being out of the window.

"I don't care," you whine. "I want to feel you, Hanta. All of you." He groans, kissing you again before he sits up. He honestly had no idea that this would happen. Not saying that he doesn't want this, and he doesn't think that he'll be able to say no. Not with the way you're naked under him with your pupils still blown wide from your previous orgasm.

He watches you sit up, and he doesn't stop you when you pull the towel from around his waist. You softly wrap your hand around him, sighing quietly at the heavy feeling of him in your palm. He groans again when he watches you spit on his tip before you start stroking him. "Shit," he hisses, and you look up at him as you twist your wrist, squeezing your hand a little tighter.

You sit up on your knees as you continue to touch him, and you rest your head against his. "Please, Hanta," you whisper against his lips as his hips buck into your hand.

"Okay," he moans softly, taking your hand away before he carefully pushes you to lie down. He spreads one of the towels out before he grabs a pillow, sliding it under your hips. He swears when he touches himself, adding more spit to himself. He's throbbing, convinced that he's never been this hard before.

He lets go of himself to touch you again, and he slides one of your legs to the side as he rubs over your clit again. "You'll let me know if you're hurting, right?"

"Yes, Hanta, just--please," you beg again, and he grabs one of your legs before moving closer to you. He lines himself up with your entrance, and he feels like he can't breathe the closer he gets to you. He realizes that he has to snap out of it, and he leans down, giving you a chaste kiss.

"I need you to relax for me, okay?" You nod, your body starting to settle a bit, and he rubs your clit at the same time he starts to push at your tight hole. He bites his lip, trying hard to focus on you, making sure he catches any sign of discomfort. There's nothing about your body language that's telling him to stop, so he keeps going, taking a deep breath. "Fuck, you're so tight--God," he huffs, and you moan as he continues to move, but it feels like his head is swimming.

He keeps touching your clit, but he uses his other hand to squeeze at the base of his dick, knowing that there's a dangerous chance that he'll cum before he's even all the way inside of you. "Why'd you stop?" you whine, already feeling stretched but you know all of him isn't inside of you yet.

"You gotta...give me a second," he tries, letting his head fall back on his shoulders so that he can't look at you as he thinks of anything and everything that won't turn him on. Once he's settled a bit, he finally looks at you, making sure you're okay before he finally bottoms out. "Fuck me," he mumbles, rubbing his hands over your legs. "How ya feeling, sweetheart?"

You nod, taking a few seconds to let your body adjust to the new intrusion. "Good. I feel really good." Hanta smiles, leaning down so he can kiss you again, the motion making you gasp into his mouth since he's moving inside of you. "Move, Hanta," you say against him, and he doesn't think he can wait any longer.

He grabs your legs, setting them higher up his hips before he gently places his hands on your hips. Your hands are on his arms as he slides out of you, and the feeling of the first thrust suddenly takes you by surprise, so your breath hitches. But once Hanta sets a pace, all you can do is moan. Your nails dig into his arms as your mouth falls open, your eyes falling shut as pleasure fills your veins.

"OhmyGod!" Your words rush out of you when your pleasure mounts times ten as your eyes shoot open, your clit throbbing at the huge rush that you feel. "H-Hanta," you moan, your body suddenly overwhelmed, and you softly push your hands into his arms because of how you're feeling.

"Is that it, baby?" he asks even though he already knows the answer, and you can hear how loud you're being, but you can't help it. His hips start moving faster, and that in combination with him ramming into that spot inside of you makes tears form in your eyes. "Fuck, angel, you're so fucking wet," he groans, looking down at where he's sliding in and out of you.

You don't even need to look where Hanta's looking because you can hear it. The squelching is so loud in your ears, and you half a mind to cover your ears. He suddenly leans forward, and that pushes your legs up toward your body. His body weight is fully pressing into you every time his hips slam against yours, and you don't think you've ever been more aroused.

"What's wrong, baby?" he muses, picking up on how it looks like you might be going shy on him. You wonder if he's just as affected by you as you are by him because he's still able to mess with you even when he's fucking up your guts.

"I-It's so l-loud," you mumble, having to close your eyes at how embarrassed you are. "S-Shit," you moan softly, moving your hands to his back.

"That's just her telling me how good I'm fucking you," he smugly tells you, and you want to frown at him, but your eyes cross instead as you feel your orgasm approaching.

"M c-close, Hanta," you whine, your nails digging into his skin. They slip down his back every time he fucks into you, and the feeling makes him hiss softly.

"I know, I know," he grunts. "Jesus, you're squeezing me so tight." He moans loudly before he lets his body full fall onto you. He digs his knees further into the mattress so that he can keep up his pace, and he lets his forehead rest against yours. "Fuck, f-fuck! Oh, my God!" he whines. "You gotta cum, baby, please."

He knows how desperate he sounds, but with the way you're clenching around him, he can't fight it anymore. He reaches one of his hands in between your bodies so that he can rub at your clit. Your nails dig into his skin again, and the feeling just rushes straight to his dick. He's rambling at this point, not even sure if he knows what he's saying, but he does know that he doesn't have much time.

Your legs suddenly wrap around him once you cum, and his breath gets caught in his chest as he tries to fuck you through your orgasm. You hook your ankles together, and your heels dig into his lower back, trapping him. "L-Lemme out, baby," he tries. "Y-You gotta let me go, I'm gonna--"

He couldn't slow his hips down if he wanted to, and he feels like he could pass out. "Want to feel all of you, Hanta," you whisper in his ear, and he lets his head fall into your neck. "P-Please," you moan, your body easily being overstimulated since you won't let him go.

His moans are the only thing he can hear as he shoots inside of you, and he goes as deep inside of you as he can, so much that the push of his hips curl your body up. The feeling of him filling you up is weird, but it feels good at the same time, and you relax your hands as he starts to slow down, feeling his dick twitch inside of you. He lifts his head up so that he can kiss you soundly, his tongue lazily swirling around yours.

"Holy...shit," he breathes after he pulls away. He takes another deep breath, putting his forehead on yours. "You okay?" he mumbles, and you smile as you nod, running your fingers through his hair. "Shit, your pussy's so good." You can't help but huff a little at his words, but then you start to notice that his weight on you is getting heavier.

"Hanta?" you question when he finally slumps on top of you. Your eyebrows raise when he softly starts to snore, and you laugh quietly as you rub over his head. You let your legs fall a little to his sides, and once your heart rate starts to go down, you can feel how tired you actually are. He's practically crushing you, but your eyes slip closed regardless, and you let his breathing lull you to sleep.

You suddenly feel something shifting inside of you, and you immediately grimace. You peel your eyes open to see Hanta wide awake and carefully sliding out of you. When he's finally out of you, the feeling of being empty feels so weird, and you don't really like it. Hanta looks up at you when you gasp, and he gives you a soft smile. "Hey, sweetheart," he whispers. "You feeling okay?"

You hum your answer as you nod, and you wince when you try to sit up, feeling soreness in your legs and between. "Sorry, I fell asleep on you," he continues, shaking his head as he huffs at himself. "Let's get you cleaned up." You try to stand yourself once you slide to the end of the bed, but your legs shake too bad and Hanta has to catch you. He quietly apologizes before he picks you up, carrying you to the bathroom.

He holds your hand while you sit down on the toilet before he walks out of the bathroom. You take a deep breath after you pee to prepare yourself to stand up, and you swear quietly when your legs burn as you move. You flush the toilet and wash your hands, and you can hear Hanta come back in, his lower half covered with shorts. You don't feel like getting back in the shower, so Hanta cleans you up with a warm washcloth before carrying you back into the room.

He sets you on the bed before handing you his shirt to put on, and he grabs some of the snacks that you brought earlier and a bottle of water. He gets on the bed next to you as he hands you the snacks and water. "Sorry, it's not much." He lays against the headboard, and you move into him as you shake your head. He rests his arm around you as you lean your head on him.

"It's more than enough," you tell him, and you feed him a chip every now and then, half-watching the TV that he turned on while you were in the bathroom. He makes sure that you drink most of the water before he finally lays the both of you down. You guess you were sleep for about an hour, but it's still late into the night, so your body welcomes the thought of getting more sleep.

You're laying on Hanta's chest, your eyes starting to get heavy as he runs his fingers up and down your arm. As you close your eyes, you think about how much fun you've had with Hanta and how much he cares for you; it's almost overwhelming to think about. And the more you think, the more it reminds you of a conversation that you had with your mom when your parents first met Hanta.

"When did you know that you loved Dad?" you ask, and she smiles to herself as she washes the pot in the sink.

"Honestly, I just knew," she answers. "I just had this sense of security one day, and I could tell that he really loved me. That we really cared for each other." You look into the living room where Hanta's helping your dad out with something as they talk about who knows what. "That might sound like a cliché answer, but it's true."

You smile to yourself as you snuggle even more into him. "I love you." You hear his breathing stop but you keep your eyes closed. "I love you, Hanta," you repeat. He had said it first months ago, and he never pressured you to say it back. But when you think about it, you always have. You blame it on your insecurities and doubts that were subconsciously plaguing your mind without realizing it. And being here with Hanta in more ways than one has made you realize that you do love him. So much.

"I love you, too, baby." Your smile widens when you feel him kiss your forehead. For a bit, you're scared to go to sleep because you don't want this moment to end, but you know that you will have moments like this over and over again.

[whiteboardartstudios]

Goodbye, Gendaen

fan art for @mtqcomic

Thoughts and LONG ramble under the cut! (includes spoilers!!!)

A while ago (like last week maybe?) I realized that I've been following this comic for almost a year, and I still haven't drawn Mysta yet! I figured that with the recent end of Chapter 3 and that *huge* lore drop (I was NOT expecting that oh my goodness the theory wheels are turning in the void that is my brain) now would be a pretty good time to draw her! So that's where this came from! :D

I thought that it would be fun to draw Mysta looking sort of like a knight? Partially because it makes for cool posing and composition but also because I think that if she was in D&D she would be a paladin due to the whole "Hero sent by Destiny" thing (I considered sorcerer or warlock as well, but her moveset is mostly melee at the moment so I thought that paladin fits better. Plus this opens up the possibility of Gendaen being an Oathbreaker paladin, depending on how that whole situation with the Crimson went. (also now I kind of want to put the main cast of mtq in D&D even though I don't actually know a lot about D&D ToT. I think Eth would be a ranger maybe multiclassed into something magic-related, because rangers have a favored enemy mechanic that gives them advantages on fighting a certain type of enemy, which could be Crimson enemies for D&D Eth. Yele is (kind of obviously) a druid because of the whole dryad thing, and Zaïl is definitely giving rogue energy to me.)) Anyways, D&D-related sidetrack aside – hello??? End-of-chapter-3 lore drop? (/positive) I have SO many questions. First of all, what happened to convince Gendaen to switch sides? For someone who allegedly spent his entire life trying to cleanse the Crimson, it would've taken one heck of a worldview-upending revelation to get him to join it. With the information we currently have, it seems pretty clear that Gendaen isn't mind-controlled or corrupted or anything – not just because of the reasons Eth gave in page #169, but also because from all the interactions we've had with Nelun Soma'o/Gendaen, he seemed to be pretty chill? I pointed out in my first fan art post that it doesn't seem as if Nelun Soma'o is being built up to be a villain character and is instead more of an antagonist with a slight mentor role, and I think that still kind of holds up now. Gendaen definitely wants Mysta to help him and/or the Crimson with something, and as Yele said in that recent comic, things aren't really adding up. I'm still slightly suspicious of the Order of Learning as well (insert person pointing at conspiracy theory board meme here lol), since you would think that if Gendaen and Eth are really close then Gendaen might have told Eth about the whole Crimson situation, right? On Page #250 (which is marked as 150??? probably a typo but idk) Gendaen says that he didn't want Eth to be roped into this whole situation, which could be a reason for keeping him in the dark – though if he knew Eth really well then he might have suspected that Eth wouldn't just let him disappear and would go searching for him. Another possible reason (in my theory) if the Order is evil or something and Gendaen learned something that he shouldn't have learned, maybe he knew that Eth wouldn't believe him because of his loyalty to the Order? I may just be connecting random dots and calling it a picture here but *something* is going on and until we get more clues on what that may be, I'm sticking with this theory lol :P EDIT, I was rereading Gendaen's character sheet and it says there that he has a strong code of honor and fights for the underdogs (not the exact phrasing but it's close). 👀 does that mean the Crimson is in some sort of underdog position? 👀

Anyways back to the drawing a little, I gave both Gendaen and Mysta a sort of braid-like element in their designs to sort of tie them together a bit visually (Mysta's is on the sides of her head, which is kind of hard to see so I added a little ribbon to show that parts of her hair is tied back, and Gendaen's is in his golden hair accessory thingy). I think that there's definitely some sort of correlation between Gendaen's disappearance/switching to the Crimson and Mysta being sent to Sol Ybberia, and I also think that both of them are going to play an important role in whatever happens in the future, hence the braids (to show that their destinies are kind of intertwined, as the two Heroes of Sol Ybberia). I also thought that it would be fun to put Gendaen in a stained glass window instead of actually physically being present, because up until the Nelun Soma'o reveal, all the things we know about Gendaen are basically all from Eth's recollections of him, which for me definitely paints a bit of a "Character haunting the narrative" kind of vibe. I also think that with the Nelun Soma'o reveal, the somewhat glorified (for a lack of a better word – I think Eth might be a little biased when it comes to Gendaen, considering that Gendaen has been missing for about 5 years, if my math is correct? 5 years feels like a long time to me and I think that if a person important to me has been missing for that long then my impression of them would definitely start warping to how I want to remember them/who I wanted them to be and I might start unintentionally ignoring the things that doesn't quite match that image in my head. Speaking of/case in point, Eth's reaction to the Nelun Soma'o reveal!) image of Gendaen that we had got thrown in a metaphorical blender with our idea of the Crimson at the time, and it just makes things a whole lot more complicated in a very interesting way. (If you look at the bottom right of the image you can see Nelun Soma'o's cloak coming out of stained-glass Gendaen's cloak, which I thought would be a fun little detail to include). Hence, the stained glass is kind of the "perfect Hero who disappeared to advance the plot" Gendaen and we can see Mysta kind of splitting the glass with her Rotted Fork from a composition point of view, referencing that huge lore bomb she dropped a couple of pages ago and how that changes our (or at least my) perception of Gendaen as a character entirely. I really do like the plot twist, as I think it makes Gendaen a more 3-dimensional character with more complicated motivations and narrative significance, as before I mainly knew him as "predecessor to Mysta" and "one of Eth's sources of motivation", but now he my understanding of Gendaen also extends to things about Gendaen himself and not just about his role in relation to other characters (for example, "Gendaen is helping the Crimson for reasons currently unknown" or "Gendaen is planning something that involves Mysta??? and he's in the Void??? And apparently Mysta is supposed to jailbreak him out at some point in the future?" He definitely has something planned behind the scenes, I don't know what it is and I want to find out).

MORE THINGS about Gendaen (can you tell that he's my favorite character at the moment ToT), what's up with those last words? If I'm correct (and I think I am, I scrolled all the way back to the page where the gods were introduced just to check this ToT), Nomù is Compassion? How is compassion related to Gendaen's alliance with the Crimson? I mean, when you think of the Crimson, compassion definitely is NOT the first value that comes to mind. Right now it seems that to me, Gendaen's plan with Mysta and the Crimson and the Void is connected to Nomù somehow? (the "I won't disappoint you" is definitely interesting). I don't have a lot of thoughts or theories on where this might be going, I just thought that it was something interesting to metaphorically chew on for the next while. It definitely seems like it has some sort of narrative significance, at least.

There might be more things that I wanted to talk about, but I can't really think of them off the top of my head right now (it might be due to the fact that it's currently quite late in my time zone ToT I am sleepy) so that's all from me for now :D (Also dropping the version of the drawing with just the lineart here because I think it looks really cool)

I hope you have a really nice day and/or night! :D

*a starry rift in space opens up in front of me and I faceplant into it like it is a mattress* (gotta make that dramatic exit!) [Image ID: The first image is a colored and rendered image of Mysta from the Mysta's Terrarian Quest webcomic standing in front of a stained glass window of Gendaen. She is holding the Rotted Fork spear from Terraria, and she has a determined expression on her face. The stained glass shows Gendaen with his back turned to the audience, and one closed eye is visible. His cloak is flowing to the right of the image, where it emerges out of the stained glass as it fades from green to dark grey. Crimson vines, green trees, and white clouds surrounds Gendaen in the stained glass. Outside of the glass portrait, real crimson vines are creeping along the stone walls that the portrait is on, framing the portrait and Mysta in the middle. A red light source is shining down from the upper right corner of the drawing. End ID.] [Image ID: The second image is a work-in-progress version of the first image without any color and only some minimal shading, with all shades being in monochrome. Mysta's lineart is noticeably darker compared to the line art of the background. End ID.]

EDIT: Forgot to add image ids, they're here now TwT

[waitingforwinterwinds]

Game of Thrones - 47 EDDARD XIII (pages 484-496)

Bobby B returns to the Keep but he's only there to make matters worse by dying to a boar and leaving a succession crisis for Ned to clean up. Ned discovers he has no political ground left to stand on, and makes yet another bad life choice under the influence of Littlefinger's heckling.

-

He was walking through the crypts beneath Winterfell, as he had walked a thousand times before. The Kings of Winter watched him pass with eyes of ice, and the direwolves at their feet turned their great stone heads and snarled. Last of all, he came tot he tomb where his father slept, with Brandon and Lyanna beside him. "Promise me Ned," Lyanna's statue whispered. She wore a garland of pale blue roses, and her eyes wept blood.

Seer Stuff or Psychological Processing = 🥛

"The girl," the king said. "Daenerys. Let her live. If you can, if it... not too late... talk to them... Varys, Littlefinger... don't let them kill her. -"

Oh you think a deathbed take-backsie absolves you of wanting to murder a child? We all know it's only because you think this is Divine Retribution that you're backing out on it, if you hadn't been drunk off your ass and missed the kill on the boar, you'd still be thinking "killing children is a great idea~"

I hope your last hours are agony.

"Good," he said, smiling. "I will give Lyanna your love, Ned. Take care of my children for me." The words twisted in Ned's belly like a knife. For a moment he was at a loss. He could not bring himself to lie. Then he remembered the bastards: little Barra at her mother's breast, Mya in the Vale, Gendry at his forge, and all the others. "I shall... guard your children as if they were my own," he said slowly.

*Coughs awkwardly as crickets chirp* I mean technically he did keep that promise... *stares into the void of the horrors to come*

"- The power is yours, Lord Stark. All you need to do is reach out and take it. Make your peace with the Lannisters. Release the Imp. Wed Joffrey to your Sansa. Wed your younger girl to Prince Tommen, and your heir to Myrcella. It will be four years before Joffrey comes of age. By then he will look to you as a second father, and if not, well... four years is a good long while, my lord. Long enough to dispose of Lord Stannis. Then, should Joffrey prove troublesome, we can reveal his little secret and put Lord Renly on the throne."

That would still be how many years of three Stark children married to Lannister bastards? How many years of Sansa being abused by her husband? At least Tomment and Myrcella aren't complete assholes, but still, four years on and we'll say only Joffrey and Sansa actually marry, that's still a problem if Ned suddenly whips out "I knowingly married my daughter to a bastard born of incest and who I am now deposing because he won't be a puppet king for me."

(Never mind he's giving 60% of his children to Lannister influence and we all know Tywin and Cersei would take the mile and a freaking half. (60% not 50% because Jon's joining the Night's Watch so is exempt regardless.))

Kill Littlefinger, ship Joffrey off to the Wall to die of frostbite, ship Cersei off to the Silent Sisters, spread some rumours about the Lannisters, specifically Tywin, make Tyrion Lord of Casterly Rock, arrange an "accident" for Jaime, Tyrion would probably be willing to take Tommen and Myrcella as his heirs even with their double lion heritage, call it a day.

If only he hadn't overplayed his hand last POV chapter... Oh Ned, why are you so bad at this?

I suppose though, he's really only bad in the context of everyone in the Red Keep and Southern Westerosi Politics be Corrupt AF. In a non-corrupt system he'd be fine... maybe. Personal and parental failings aside.

[multiplefandomsblog]

Byakuya x inexperienced!reader pt.2(NSFW)

request; hi !! so to whoever wrote the Byakuya x inexperienced! reader um i-i ilysm TOT would it be alright to ask for a part 2 of it, maybe reader has more experience and is ready for whatever 'mAstEr' Byakuya has in store?? (and maybe m a y b e Byakuya loses control of himself bc his innocent reader has finally been corrupted— OKAY THANK YOU BYE

warnings; so muCH CORRUPTION KINK!!!, pet play, master kink, dom!Byakuya, begging, Byakuya neglects reader a tad, s&m, reader is kind of a brat(just a littttleeee bit), sex toys/vibrators, bondage(handcuffs), overstim, forced orgasm?, unedited, slight dumbification, reader has female parts and uses female pronouns and names, slight praise kink, manhandling, humiliation, begging, dacryphillia, light dark themes(lmfao) there’s like, no fluff at all.

note; phew! okay this one, im kinda kinda proud of- i even put together a small byakuya playlist to get into the mood hehehe, it surprisingly helped a lot! i got into the byakuya mind space zone :0 anyway, thank you sm for requesting and i hope you enjoy!

(also p.s. this is a second part to this so you don’t have to read that first, but it’d help? kinda? idk your choice broskis ;0)

word count; 1.4k 

•••••••

“Master.”

Byakuya’s shoulders tensed, fingers almost tearing the pages of his book as he heard your voice, seductive behind him. His eyebrow quirked up at the tone of your voice, a small barely noticeable smirk adorning his face. He could hear the neediness, seductiveness, submission from just the title you uttered out. Instead of moving his head behind him, he decided not to let his eagerness to look at your show. So instead, he pretended to keep reading his book, faking disinterest. Even though he heard the way you spoke, heard the way you spoke so needy for him, wasn’t enough for his insatiable hunger. 

So he decided he would tease you until you were sobbing for him, begging for him. You weren’t going to get what you want until Byakuya does first. Ah, the look of desperation on your face he still had engraved in his mind, he could feel his pants tighten slightly.

Pouting at his unresponsiveness, you swiftly made your way to the back of his chair, caressing your hand lightly against his shoulder. “Master, look at me.” You persisted, bending down to lean your chin on his shoulder, face next to his as you folding your abdomen over the shirt you were wearing. To clarify, his shirt, and just his shirt. He could recognize the white cotton material, and as much as he wanted a peek, his need to see you on your knees for him was much bigger. 

Instead of letting you see his eyes, his eyes full of lust and want, he focused them onto the page, glazing over the words, yet not quite registering them in his mind as you preoccupied it. “M-master why aren’t you…” You trailed off, gulping as the realization of what he wanted—or at least thought he wanted— dawned on you. Slowly getting on your knees, you sat on your heels in front of him, head bowed down to look at his shoes. “Is this what you wanted?” You peaked up to try and take a quick look at his face, a low whine rumbling in your throat as you saw Byakuya flip another page. 

“I-I’ll act like a dog for you..! R-ruff ruff! I-is this enough? P-please..! I don’t like it when y-you ignore me…” You huffed quietly underneath your breath, feeling little shame for the act you had just performed in front of your heir. Though you were upset Byakuya hadn’t even spared a glance to you, you would be lying if you said you didn’t love the humiliation; your panties had been soaked the moment Byakuya decided not to talk nor pay attention to you.

 “Master please, I n-need you.” he didn’t even need to say anything, and yet here you are, sitting on your knees and barking for him; convinced that this is what he wanted, not what you secretly needed. He wanted to laugh, he made you like this. He made you so corrupted, and he felt disgustingly proud of that fact. “Hm.” Deciding to throw you a bone, he closed his book and fixed his eyes on you, “You’re a good pup for me, no?” 

He reached down to tap your chin. Getting a bit eager, you rose up, straightening your thighs so they were vertical. Grabbing eagerly onto his thighs, you leaned your head into his touch, looking at him with an adoration that seemed impure. “Y-yes! Yes, I’m a good puppy. I’m such a good pup for you, only you!” Your doe eyes stared up at him loyally, making him growl underneath his breath. 

“Look at you, you weren’t even able to take it last time, and yet you’re still coming back to me for more? Will you even be able to handle what I’ll give you?” You opened your mouth to say you could in protest, yet Byakuya cruelly interrupted, “After last time? You could barely handle it.” There was a snarl painted across his cold face, and yet it only seemed to make you wetter. 

Even if he seemed like he was mocking you, you could still hear the softness in his voice as he trailed off. You detected his worry, and so you did your best to show him you could handle it. Your voice wavered, but you stood your ground, clutching whatever was left of your confidence tightly, “I’m not the same as before, master.” Not only did you Byakuya with your newfound confidence, but you surprised yourself as well. 

You didn’t even recognize your voice, but you didn’t care, it seemed to be working. Leaning and hovering over Byakuya’s slightly stunned figure, you challenged, “I’d be more worried if you could handle me.” Your hands gripped Byakuya’s knees as you used them to support your body that had been arched against him. Byakuya’s stunned expression only lasted so long as his face twisted into a snarl, before kissing you roughly, teeth clashing against his.

As he kissed you, he could feel your hands slipping slowly down the valley of his thighs, and so, he pulled away suddenly and leaned down, perching your stomach on his shoulder. Confused, you let out a “Mast-?”, before he stood up, your body being hurled up along with him as he walked with ease. 

Dropping your body on the mattress, Byakuya quickly searched his table for the handcuffs, sighing satisfied as he found them. Smiling widely, you held your wrists out for him, slightly startling but pleasing Byakuya. In a rare moment, he snorted, “Good girl. ...Though, you’ll soon regret that.“ Standing up from the bed after he tied you to the headboard, he searched his drawers once again, bringing out something pink this time.

Glancing side ways to see your terrified face, “Remember this?” Your eyes widened at the familiar toy he fiddled within his hand, your heart beating erratically fast. “You still think you can take it?” He hunched over your body, one hand supporting his body, and one hand holding the toy scarily close to your glistening cunt.

Waiting patiently, he watched your expression, searching for any type of hesitation, yet finding.. none?

Snarling at your persistent face, he tried teasing you, to scare you to say no, “We never got to see what this did, did we now?” He said through gritted teeth, testing you by pressing it against your hole, making your legs widen slightly from contact. He looked at you in disbelief, “You’re not even- Wow, you… you really are my little slut, aren’t you?” His smile, villain-like. Beaming up at him, you inhaled sharply in relief as he finally understood, “Uhuh! Ye-ssss!” Your jaw dropped, eyes rolling back in your head as you arched your back into the vibrations that Byakuya had turned on suddenly. 

“M-master, it feels really good..!” You felt like your brain was scattered, fuzzy as you lost yourself. What was your name again? Pet? It didn’t matter anyway, as your legs shook from your first orgasm. Feeling Byakuya press the toy harder against your clit, you arched your back on instinct, wailing out pleas. “Gonna cream, s-second timeee!” You whined, breathing sounding more like wheezing as your chest heaved from the overstimulation. Your drool trailing down your open mouth, and getting on his once clean dress shirt you wore.

Your eyes scrambled back up to look at your master, wanting to see his eyes you adored so much. Gasping and frantically looking around as you didn’t see him, “M-ma-!” You squirmed against the toy, panting for air as you felt it rub against your clit slightly. “Right here, baby.” 

Your face whipped towards the sound of his voice, eyes focused on him, though your vision was slightly blurred from the tears of pleasure and possibly desperation. Your gaze was intense, unblinking, yet the rest of your face was a fucked out mess, your body twitching and writhing without control as you still kept your eyes on him.

“Hhnng!” You didn’t want to take your eyes off him, but you couldn’t help it as your third orgasm came up, forcing you to scream into his pillows. “M-m-!” You sobbed out, unable to speak his name as moans and cries overlapped it. He could see your body twitch from the toy, squirming away from it as the oversensitivity eventually got to you.  

He swiftly got to action, yanking your twitching legs wide apart, pushing the toy deep inside your pussy instead of your clit. He sighed shakily as he saw how easy the toy slipped in, your screams sounding like music to his ears. He could feel you squirming against his iron-tight grip on your ankles.  “You said you could take anything. Am I wrong? So take it.” The sound of his voice scared you in all honesty, but you couldn’t seem to even focus your attention onto how dangerous he sounded, as you fell into yet another orgasm. 

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Chapter 14 (Witcher of the Night)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)

CHAPTER 13.1 (PREVIOUS CHAPTER)

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: NSFW. 18+ Geralt tried his best to resist. With Destiny sitting on her throne, utterly anticipating for how the witcher would react to your rut. She won the game this time because Geralt of Rivia was a lone man who couldn't say no to a woman who was thirsty for what the Djinn has held her in, especially when this woman was you.

Warnings: Size kink? Cockwarming? Insecure reader. Unprotected sex but no worries because it's Geralt? The long awaited smut. Smol tittie reader? (Respect to the big tittie committee, please do donate some to us!) Frustrated Geralt and reader. Wet Geralt? He's in the tub okay! 😂💕 Loss of virginity. NSFW. 18+. Explicit words. They’re both in a rut on this one. This is basically just smut before the plot shifts.

Words: 7.8k

A/N: STARTED FROM THE BOTTOM NOW WE HERE 😎 GET WRECKED, MIDGET! Also, SCREAM FOR ME, BB'S! I know y'all are waiting for this moment to shine! xD I've realized that the next smut after this is more explicit than Chapter 14. So, get ready for that as well. Most GIF’s are from (demivampirew) 💕

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi 

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

Geralt's touches nearly pacified the scathing heat surging through your body. Your head that was nuzzling in between his neck helps soothe the pain. Howbeit, with Geralt; he was feeling rather tormented especially when the simple intimacy was winding the witcher up in a very hellish way.

The tip of your nose brushing against that part of his neck that had him turning rigid was driving him insane. Just your nose perched in the curvatures of his neck made the tent even more bigger, thoroughly agrestal and waiting to be unshackled from its pound.

Your satisfied sighs, breath that brushed and tickled his skin had received a deep timbre of warning from the man whom you were precariously desiring for. The way your breath touched his skin made his jaw clench so tight as he brought you up stairs, surrounding you in his rugged arms that you also wanted to kiss, wondering how strong it looks like once he was disrobed.

You never had seen Geralt in the raw. The way his clothes strains on top of his Herculean body was enough vision that he was utterly jacked; shredded and a man whom made your reticence plummet down the sewers like it has never been there before, the sexual longing and curiosity filling the void of lechery that has been furtively hidden and was now growing in absolute masses because of how one man can ruin that sobriety you have been holding dear.

When you were gently dropped down to your feet, torrid kisses and passionate touches were expected; but the way he'd stepped away to tell you that you needed a bath to take the heat away had your head turning hotter from how he wasn't dealing with your ache just like the way you wanted him to.

It was better if he joined, you asked him that but his silence was enough of an answer that he wouldn't despite of how you've noticed the wolf that rested in between his leather pants, waiting to be released from its cage and find relief in between that hollow cave you've been dying to be visited at.

"Midget..." the white haired witcher was belligerent as he seethed, giving you a frown because of how uncooperative you were becoming; turning hostile as much as you can get.

Geralt took a step closer, his actions appearing to be quite the contrary of his words when he'd tried to grab onto the hem of your sweater before you immediately jerked away; maddened for your wishes to be dismissed like he wasn't feeling the same way. You were desperate now. You understood and knew what relief that the pain needed to take.

"Stop touching me! I'm not going to undress myself in front of you, Geralt! I want you! Not a bath!" you loudly snapped, voice definitely ear-piercing by how you wanted to be followed; shaking the tranquil night away from your antagonism.

The way you've jerked away from him had dropped down more frustration to himself and to you as well. You've wanted nothing but to be in his arms, kissing him, touching anywhere you haven't touched, exploring the deepest depths of him that you haven't discovered. Geralt lowly groaned, his mouth in a tight lour that simply tells you he was utmost pissed-off from your resistance.

"Cease the mulish act even just for tonight!" he barked rather furiously, teeth gritted together with his eyebrows tightly curved in a way that alarmed you that he seemed to also be in pain; struggling with the appetite he seemed to be famished with, the cravings he desired standing before him whom also had the same wishes in her mind.

"Oh! now, I'm the one stubborn?! Why don't you do it for yourself too, Mr. stubborn-pants!? Why don’t you cease the mulish act even just for tonight, huh?!" you sent a snark, glaring back at the infuriated witcher. His eyes were burning in aggravation and midnight, dilated in a process of telling you he was in mania. Carnal manias. Geralt emitted a feral growl; in distress for himself, what was happening to him and also to your inflexible decisions.

"---and also cease the fucking crabbiness!" he snarled out loud.

The heat stirring below your belly wasn't helping his exasperation towards the situation at hand. His enraged demeanor stirring a strong prurient desire that sat between your legs, making you cross them together as you've continued your narks; trying to get under his skin. Literally or figuratively.

Your nose was flaring and so was his, emotions riling up your mind as you truthfully snapped the grudging feelings out in the open; freely for Geralt to hear and react upon.

"Stop caring like you're actually fond of me when you're not!"

"You're in pain!" the white haired witcher was quick to bark, hands on his sides and tightening them into tight fists as he mindlessly raked your ungraceful form; dilated pupils and your legs crossed like the heat was starting to pool down your pants. You were aroused alright.

Hence, Geralt knew that, sensed that. He could smell you from afar and the scent that naturally dripped from you was far more better than the Lemon and Peony he'd been thoroughly accustomed with.

It was heating him up; a lot more than he ever felt, if that was even possible.

You've given him a black look, teeth clenched together as you were hopping mad. The words that came out of your mouth seeming to be a sudden slip of your tongue.

"It's all your genie's fault and I'm blaming the Djinn again for even letting me fall for you hard because apparently, in your oh-so-silent witcher perspective; all that I’m feeling had magical or supernatural explanations! Thank you for letting me realize that, sir! I really needed that subtle rejection!"

The witcher blinked, his stance thoroughly livid. Back tense and piping warm as his heated gaze was solely on your enraged, elfin self. Your candor stirring and kindling with the fire that was sipping through his veins, wanting nothing but to strafe your lips with passionate kisses he'd fantasized about, exploring fascinating chasms and cavities that has never been traversed yet.

You were hot under the collar, completely seething as you've given him the most nasty lour you could. Still, being pigheaded from what you wanted, trying to furiously explain to him that you needed a different kind of relief that involved intercourse and not a lame bath. He couldn't help but try to soothe his displeasure by fluttering his amber eyes shut, controlled breathing slipping through his flaring nose as he lowly seethed.

"You need to calm down!---Stop shouting."

Your indignant self was awakening something barbarous within him, violently rousing the thirst that has been there from the start and he was certain that if you push harder, he may never be able to control.

Not anymore.

Severe profanities tripped out of your tongue, the profound sensations and feelings consuming you too much; more so difficult to handle as the clock ticks by with Geralt who stood maddened and raging with such desire that he appeared to be in denial about. His glowing amber eyes piercing through the piety of your soul, begging nothing but to corrupt you in any way despite of his refusal to accept.

"Don't go all alpha-shit on me, Geralt! I'm shouting because I'm in pain! I'm fucking frustrated, sad, weirdly thrilled, very infuriated because of your foolishness and I don't even know the fuck why!"

Your sudden impiety had the witcher cocking his head to the side, feeling his leather pants grow tighter by how you've spat those words with such a harsh tone when he shouldn't be feeling things by being cursed back by a midget who he'd seen to be vindicated and a little bit demented for his sanity.

"I know you're in pain!" Geralt fumed, heavily swallowing the discomfort from his thrilled, angered excitement for what was about to come.

You've growled, sounding rather a bit dinky for the latter like a kitten who was livid and trying to scratch a big dog. If you were trying to be intimidating, then it was totally a failure because it only got him more charmed than he ever was before.

"You don't know that, Geralt! Because, it's not happening to you!"

He angrily shook his head, heavily marching to where you stood till he was looming before you like a lion to its prey, utterly intimidating as his gaze was smoldering your core. The dampness of your panties making you wary of Geralt's effect on you when he isn't even doing anything but be mad. It was nutty to even feel aroused from his lambasting; getting thrilled and excited by his livid state? You were probably going bonkers.

"It is!" the enraged, white haired witcher roared, peering down at you as your feet ceaselessly stepped backwards till your spine hit a wooden; storage cabinet that was a lot higher than you, he trapped you in between his presence and the cabinet. Nonetheless, still galvanized for his fit of pique.

You were spitting false assumptions to his face because you never know what forbidding and rapturous sensations you were giving him. Hence, it was like you both were sharing each other's anger and frustrations. Your breath hitched when his abrasive, thick fingers caught your hips as he thoroughly hunched down to your level. The haze in his Aurum eyes making you catch a breath as a spark of flame utterly triggered the enthusiasm.

"I can feel what you feel and it's driving me fucking insane!"

Before you even know it, his rough padded fingers brushed onto your heated skin; oblivious of his ardent fingers that has slipped under your sweater, swiftly hauling you on top of the cabinet with ease as it felt a loud thud from his abrupt, hurried gestures.

"Geralt!" you loudly shrieked when he carried you; eyes bulging out of its eye sockets, not due to fear but utmost jubilant that you were ceasing yourself from grinning back at the glaring witcher because your carnal self was loving where the crossness was heading. Yet, you still chose to kindle with the raging fire that he had in him, stirring the witcher up more than you could ever do; bringing it out of him for you to succeed.

"That's bullshit! What are we? soulmates? a freakin' soulmate AU? Feeling what I feel like our hearts are connected? Some fantasy fanfic where you magically become my destiny when I somehow teleported in your world?!"

You were now in-level with him; close enough, but he still had the leverage to look down on your face. The gaze in his eyes intensified, to the point that it was telling you how much he wanted to ravish you in so many ways.

With the way how you were smart mouthing him and the desperation in your sentences was working him up more than how those women in the brothels do. Just one word from you could wind him up in sinful ways.

Geralt tightly kept his pretty mouth shut, his gaze too penetrating as you could feel your heat twitching and moist to the point that you were soaking in ways you've never known it would despite of how you've not used your fingers in this one. Which explains how Geralt's presence was too overwhelming for a midget's heart and vagina.

Your words were obviously a conflict to how you've uncorked the lock of your legs, slightly unfastening them open till Geralt took a brooding step close to fill in the gap. The proximity rather fatal for your palpitating heart and raging fire that surrounded you both.

His fingers teased and witlessly glided along your imperfectly pouched belly, making you softly gasp from his touches as you've both shared heaving breaths. Your eyes connected with his in a way that got you wanting to hyperventilate from the choking tension you both have given to each other. You couldn't help yourself but shiver from Geralt's languid thumbs that brushed along the tubby curvatures of your waist; along the parts that has given you self-doubt because it was a body flaw that was quite difficult to erase.

Your mind wasn't thinking straight. It was in a whirlwind that no any other man could give with only his eyes staring straight into your soul. Tantalizing, wild and unchaste. The small stumble of words was enough to give Geralt the upper hand, knowing that only one touch was enough to make you feel like jello as he stood in between those unlatched legs of yours, waiting to be taken in any way that won't make you form any coherent words nor make you remember your own name.

"Stop...stop staring at me like that. You don't even like me that deep; for you to know what I'm feeling right now,"

You've avoided looking at him in the eye, your abashed state still passing through every now and then because it was what makes you, yourself. The timorous tone of your voice sounded titillating in the witcher's perspective as it stirred him up even more, wanting and urgently waiting to be free from the leather constrains that his pants locked him in.

His tender, teasing touches heightened your senses as it was the only thing you focus on as it brushed against your skin like a pencil to its paper, light and delicate. You were heedless of his other hand that moved under your sweater, his rough thumb and index finger giving you a spark of tingles when he'd lightly held your chin, ushering you to stare into his glowing amber eyes that captured your heart since the night he saved you.

The dimples of his nose caressed your plump cheeks, nuzzling the side of your face that gave such delectation of shivers through your spine; his breath was warm and impending as it fanned your ear, turning your body stiff as he gravelly whispered so closely to your ear.

"You don't get to decide nor tell me that you know what I'm feeling when you're uncertain of the verity," he apprised, taking a brief pause as you could feel the tickling tip of Geralt's nose nestling between the back of your ear, ponderously breathing in your scent that makes him feel like he was in paradise.

You could feel your heart thumping out of your chest, the hurried heartbeat of your heart ringing in your ears as it felt like molten lava pouring down on you both when Geralt seem to finally give in to your wishes.

He was a man, an amorous one, indeed. Hence, a tiny woman whom he was smitten with? Begging for a nooky? Well, why would he even be too obstinate to reject such bliss?

Your eyes immediately fluttered closed, teeth biting the insides of your cheeks as you were utterly thrilled. The voices who had been whispering inside your head has died down from the moment you both have shared the peeve out of the boiling kettle. Breathing turned erratic, thoughts quickly moving down south as Geralt heavily breathed against your ear.

You knew you were done for when he'd fondled with the hem of your sweater; those thick, sleek fingers of his, slithering higher and higher till you could never think straight; towards a place no one has ever did just yet and you were gladly letting him explore you in places you have never been touched.

His name clouded inside your head like a bell ringing from a church. Geralt's comforting warmth seething through your senses as you've felt him plant one soft kiss on the back of your ear, igniting a sensual whimper out of you that got him heavily breathing. The witcher's mind pooling with debauched thoughts for you.

And so, he let the palpable sensations control him for once; maybe not once, if he was given the chance again, letting his emotions get the best of him as he finally let go and like a warning, he rasped; "---you are asking a lot from me that not any other person could seek for a witcher,"

"---Yet, here I am; standing before you, succumbing to your wishes and trying to think of ways to help you overcome your struggles despite of knowing the repercussions, midget."

Based on how he'd let his gorgeous head fall in between the crevice of your neck, tempestuously giving your skin starved, open mouth kisses; those adorable fangs you've adored having its way as it was giving your neck a delicate bite every once in a while, you knew you were in for a delightful night.

The Djinny-Djinn-Djinn would surely be worth it.

Warm water pooled just below the lower parts of your bodies. Bare bodies submerged beneath till it stopped before your chests. Awning whatever it is that was needed to be sheltered. The abrupt reserved demeanor dawning on you every now and then when you were reminded why you've acted the way you were before, like a desperate animal that was needed breeding. But, the pain that stung in your chest was enough reminder that it was a needed reason for Geralt to just do it.

You have covertly imagined how Geralt would be crafted. Heedful to be expecting a brobdingnagian man molded like one of Michael Angelo's fine pieces or a painting made by Vincent Vann Gogh; utterly a prepossessing sight which needed to be reminded for yourself that you still needed to breathe.

Geralt of Rivia's birthday suit could wholly take a woman or man's breath away; you were gawking and he'd caught your sly peepers, gaping at the lofty man who was undressing while you sat in the end of the tub has got him humming in interest.

The vision of himself who was stripping his clothes off brought you in hell and also in heaven. He had his back turned away as he peeled his black tunic off him in one go; the gesture sucking all of your breath in your lungs, giving you a harsh whiplash when you've seen his wide shoulders and his sinewy upper body in the flesh, your heat pulsing with just the image of the witcher who was shedding his clothes off in idle; the zeal growing much more impatient as minutes pass by.

You were going to get wrecked tonight.

Your faint clearing of your throat resonated in the room when you've seen his fingers move through the front of his pantaloons, never wanting to snap your head away because seeing him strip fascinates you in so many ways; marveling at the sight of his chiseled, stark naked form. Your alter ego asking God how he was perfectly imperfect with those disfigurements that has wallowed up his fiborous back.

It was a wide-reaching scar; like a Megalodon shark has sunk its teeth along his shoulders and ribs. The mark made you give him another once over before he pulled his pants down straight off, making you snap your head away due to the blush that wanted to burn your face. Your fingers itched, in a way that it was pleading for you to brush your soft fingers against the scars that obviously appeared to be painful. You couldn't help but gnaw on your lower lip because of the despairing feeling that suddenly crept up your chest from how he was thoroughly scarred, imagining what happened to the witcher when he had it.

You were weak-kneed. The batter of bath water slightly swaying you when he'd finally walked in the tub. But, your shyness was simply manhandled by the witcher himself when you've heard him hum in amusement, a small grin curving his luscious lips when you seemed to be stilled from hearing him sitting beside you. Those buff arms on either side as you could feel his ardent gaze on you, forbearing your abrupt timidness that you were slowly trying to process the idea that he was bathing together with you, thoroughly stark naked as you were also the same way. 

Geralt was silently hoping you weren't thinking about leaving him alone after all of that, bearing with his raging boner has been quite a torture.

It took minutes after before he literally hauled you over his thick, slightly unlatched, brawny legs. You were tormenting him in ways he could never imagine as his hardened girth twitched under the warm water. There was a bashful squeal that erupted out of you when you were manhandled by the strong witcher, sitting you in front of him as you were greeted with his hirsute chest that gave your cunt a thump. He was also welcomed by your perky, right-sized breasts and a glowing cicatrix with the image of his medallion that rested in between the valley of your chest; while his, shone beneath the moonlight seeping through the opened windows.

Your diffident self was immediately forgotten with just one touch of Geralt's fingers brushing over your mark. The scorching heat now seemed to be blistering with one thing in both of your minds.

Coition.

"Thought you had other ways to help me?" you skittishly questioned in between torrid, passionate kisses you were sharing with him. Those calloused fingers of his rested and raked behind your nape, eager fingers slipping through your locks as yours fell on his thatch of hair on his prominent, wide chest; tenderly caressing over the medallion he wore.

Only a low, hoarse and short grunt was said. The way his mouth moved and brushed along the soft pillows of your lips was utterly enticing, perfectly molding against yours in a fervid way. His warm, febrile tongue slipping inside your mouth of its own volition; making you catch your breath as he'd lapped your stilled tongue. His vigor seeming to be over the top as you tried leveling with his fervor as well.

His torrid kisses was enough to make you forget your own name. What more if he was finally pummeling inside of you?

"I do." Geralt gruffly murmured, his succulent lips trailing from your side of your lips before you've took his face in between your palms, urging his vermillion to give you more passionate kisses that you were greedy for.

He'd willingly gave you another, his lips falling in between yours as you've given him another scalding smooch that unconsciously made you mewl when you've felt the tip of his tongue brushing against your lips and teeth. An unconscious nibble of his lower lip got the witcher growling beneath his chest, his other hand tightening around your hip while the one raking behind your hair, pushing your face further to his. Those simple touches making you struggle for breath; momentarily breaking away to look into those diluted, darkened amber eyes.

"Doesn't seem like it, Rivia. You're falling for the bard's suggestion," you grinned like a Cheshire cat, heaving breaths as you sat on his lap. Your forehead delicately falling on his temple when you've licked your swollen vermillion from all the bites it took.

His hot breath fanned your lips, nails tenderly scratching along the skin of your nape as he ceased his ministrations to admire the small, naked woman in his arms. He never imagined for this to happen so quick; like it was even meant to be because of how right it felt. Geralt was sure you'd be all faint-hearted once the effects of your scar dies down; if it ever would. Then, you were back with your abashed self; entirely blushing to even realize that he had finally bed you all night.

As long as you could remember everything. He was alright.

Your heart was palpitating; feeling overwrought for the words that wants to be frankly said. You beseeched, "I also thought---you...you didn't want me?---"

You've fidgeted with the medallion that rested upon his chest, his hand on your hips leaving to take your chin to cease you from saying anything further as he slightly moved his face away from yours. His features soft and understanding, "I didn't say that. Never. " pause. "---you are certainly unaware of how much I want you, midget. Too much that it's frightening and utmost perilous,"

Those lips of his that you've been kissing simply lifted into a small beam, making your heart flutter and feel ways that you could never fathom. You carry a torch for those scars that laid upon his face. Some were miniscule, difficult to notice unless you were staring up close and some were deep that probably held some menacing experiences.

Your delicate fingers glided down the pockmark he had that rested on the side of his ribs. The wonders in your head being filled by the experience your hand can get. Geralt let you, his scars never fazing him nor you as well. Just a touch for your curiosity to be quenched.

You've heard him inhale a deep breath, the simple action making his chest vibrate beneath your fingers as another hum slipped past through. Both hands grabbed onto your hip, ushering you closer to him in a proximity that weakened your legs. His hardened cock; feeling it veiny, protruding and thick, resting in between your damp folds that made your breath hitch as you've finally felt how he was gifted within his pantaloons.

Hence, it made you bite the insides of your cheeks. A question inside your mind as to how it would fit inside your damn vagina.

Geralt noticed you stuck in a daydream that he ought to withdraw yourself from, you've felt his breath glazing along your collarbone, languidly puckering his pillowy lips along your skin with every pass of his breath. The honeyed sound that leaves his lips whenever he pecked, sending jolts of heat up your spine as he took his wondrous time to worship the body you somehow have been insecure about.

He knew your low self-esteem; probably even have his own issues as well so that was why he could understand. If he would focus on how you've tried covering yourself up when he firstly sat in the tub, those eyes of yours demanding for him to not be ashamed of what sat in front of him. Geralt instantly knew and the white haired witcher planned to glorify all night, if you'd let him.

"That scent. Hmm. Your tangy scent makes me forget of what and who I really am," the latter roughly whispered, his lips on your skin; savoring your salty, sugary and rich taste against his tongue as he brushed his lips through the depths of your chest, ending in that glowing Cicatrix that made you audibly gasp before his sweet lips.

"Geralt---" you salaciously and softly whimpered, his name sounding raunchy when you did so. Irritable pain punctured through the symbol, like a spear being stabbed through your chest for a hundred times with no explanations why it was making you suffer like this, "The pain---It's not helping---It's just turning worse---I can't take it anymore,"

As the pain tripled, Geralt halted his smooth kisses that he'd wanted to give on the mount of your perky breasts. Your eyes demanding for him to satiate each other's cravings, aggressively, passionately or whatever could quench the lust. You were begging.

"Take me," you've raised your hands and grabbed onto the side of his pretty, white head. Peepers dazed and overflowing with obscurity, "---Claim me. Over and over, I don't care. Just take the heat and pain away,"

Geralt of Rivia was no angel nor any knight that honored the dignity of one deprived woman. He was a hunger-stricken man who yearned for all of what you could offer and if he had the chance to honor your chastity to be corrupted by the witcher himself; he wholeheartedly would.

That was what he would just do. Corrupt you in so many ways till his hunger would be sated. But, he doubted it would be slaked.

From the moment you were in pain and also pleading to be ravished, it didn't take him two darn seconds to continue his onslaught on peppering your breasts with searing kisses that gave you a shiver, his wet tongue hiking down a trail around your areolas before taking your nub in his god-forsaken mouth, suckling on your nipples like a starving man.

"U-Ugh, shit." you've quietly moaned in the back of your throat as you’ve taken a sharp intake of breath, utterly lewd for anyone to hear as you held onto Geralt's wide, muscular shoulders; giving them a gentle squeeze while your eyes fluttered in exstacy. The image of him who suckled your teat was utmost impure for your once chastised thoughts.

A moaning mess was what you've become, the slight hitches of your mouth whenever he'd licked your nub after his rough suckling made his stone hard girth twitch beneath you. One shift of your hips was enough for the witcher to be grumbling a grunt from the action that has made his cock feel your moistened heat which started to grind onto him mindlessly.

"Geralt," you've whined in the back of your throat as your hips moved in its own accord, his thick girth that rested in between your cunt being rubbed by its own and you were stroking in a way that could get the little nub finding the release it wanted.

He was sucking through your neck, making you whimper as his thick, calloused fingers went straight to knead at your teat that needed attention, his hands seeming to be larger than your breasts but he certainly didn't mind as he was loving the feeling of them that rested beneath his palms. Geralt lowly grunted beneath your ear, sucking on a spot that got you sighing as another lewd plaint slipped between your lips, mouth slightly opening. The coil starting to build up in between your heat.

His fingers ceased you from continuing so, making you whine in complaint as you were already feeling an orgasm approaching. Though, he may want you gushing around his girth and not through bathwater or humping him in the middle of the tub.

The hunk of a witcher passionately kissed you one more time, fervently devouring your lips like he would chump them for his sate. You weakly moaned in between his assaulting lips, tightly shutting your eyes closed as you feel euphoria surround yourselves by whatever natural deed that was happening from the both of you. 

He grabbed onto the base of his reddened, swollen cock; lining the bulbous head on your seeping entrance. The water from the bath and your position would probably help you for your first time. Geralt went on in kissing you, never breaking apart as he'd dragged his leaking tip to your wet mound and throbbing clit, flicking his tongue inside of your mouth as he'd lowly hummed out of his chest, vibrating your breasts as it was closely rested together with his, sending ripples through your soul.

His girth pressed along the insides of your heated cunt before ceasing on your entrance, it took only one tight grope of Geralt's hair for him to deeply groan, letting him take control and delve inside, his size ginormous filling every depth and fissure that ignited a kittenish moan which certainly made him whimper once he was abnormally tightly snuggled inside.

Geralt felt like he was over the moon; your grip bringing himself into a delirium that made his mind shake, choking in his own breath when all he could ever think of was you, alone. Y/N. His midget. The way your mouth tasted. Your warmth. A solace that only you could give. More, he wanted and more of you he would take.

You hold him like a vice; your mound choking his girth from how delightful you felt around him. The idea of being sexually connected with Geralt in this way was totally a different feeling, bringing you in rhapsodies of pleasure that you didn't know existed in your life.

He was fully sheathed inside before you even know it. Too distracted by his kisses that you don't feel any ache from being filled to the brim; expecting the unexpected from that experience. His hardened cock that has slithered inside you felt uncomfortable at first, though it seemed to have no problem with slipping in because you were too aroused and wet. Good. Geralt didn't want you feeling anymore pain and only hoped for your pleasure.

You've took your time to adjust, wiggling your hips every now and then; making you slightly wince because it had a pinch of ache when you tried to move. So much for feeling no pain. Your squirming got the witcher humming in displeasure; speechless and observant of what you were feeling. Geralt patiently waited despite of the howling feeling inside his chest; wanting nothing but to begin his corrupting, yet he respected your adjustments. Both of you were throbbing in each other's hold, before you've shakily got on your position, firmly on your knees, hands on either side of his shoulders as he was intensely staring into your eyes; all darkened, piercing and libidinous like a hawk while he waited for your next move.

Your hips got the best of you, wantonly stroking in a way that made the both of you whimper in sheer gratification for trying to get comfortable with the way he fits inside of you. The way you'd slowly lift yourself up before tormentingly coming back down, his jutting veins that rubbed you in the right way as your mouth went ajar when his length and size stretched you in pure exaltation.

Geralt's focal point was on you and your mound that choked and clasped around him, intently eyeing how your face contorted in such rapture that got him adoring the coltish mewl that emitted out of you, the way you've concentrated at the blurry image of his meaty girth that has been swallowed by your pulsing heat, he knew he would beg for another round.

Your wanton pace was torturing him; more so than hunting a beast in the continent that was difficult to find. He hoarsely groaned in the back of his throat, doing his very best to not turn you around and have his way with you. You bit your lip out of loving how he filled you to the rim, uttering out another weak, sensual moan that got the witcher feeling the pining rather agonizing while he silently watched you take your time.

But, he couldn't take it anymore. He was close to sputtering out profanities from how it was growing more intolerable as minutes go by.

"Fuck." he suddenly spat, sounding like a throaty whimper as you languidly sunk back into his twitching girth for a couple more times, his amber eyes blazing with the need to brutally ravish.

"---You are planning to give me an early death,"

Which got the witcher abruptly grabbing onto your waist, pulling himself out of you as you were suddenly turned around in the bath, your back hitting the edge of the tub as you loudly shrieked, whining for the lack of being filled thereof and also for the slight pain that his prompt actions got you.

"Well, that...that hurt." you honestly whined at the witcher, curious peepers gazing up at him as he moved in front of you, his fingers taking in your knees as he spread them widely apart. The water splurging around you as he'd move, seemingly fascinating to see how largely built his body was, before feeling his robust fingers on your waist, pulling you closer to his body; your back slightly slanted before gasping when he'd fervently entered, starting to consume you again and again.

"N-Nevermind. The pain--Ugh, probably's---Ugh, fuck! Geralt!---worth it," have been coyly moaned out loud, your face scrunched out in utter ecstacy as Geralt began to avidly pummel inside you, his girth violently ravishing your soaking mound with sharp thrusts of his hips.

His body was making you feel tiny compare to his gargantuan built. The way he situated himself above you, a hand tightly clasped onto your pinguid hip while the other rested on your side, his sweaty and earthy scent choking you as he drove you instantly to heaven.

The rousing sounds of his low grunts and hushed whimpers was enough to take you on edge. You've never...ever can tell how it was music to your ears as it also does the same to Geralt, your moans and mewls were bringing him to utopia, his heavy weight thoroughly crushing your bones apart no matter how he was helping himself up.

You didn't know you had a kink where you've wanted his body crushing you down; apparently, it was a new fact that you knew would instigate the fire and excitement. A size kink, then.

He went on with his ceaseless, wild, hammering of his girth. Your arms closely embracing him tight in a way that tells him you didn't want to let go; only wanting him to surround you in his warmth forever. Your palms gliding down his wide back till you've brushed your fingers along his own scar that you've handled oh-so-delicately, urging Geralt to utter a lewd audible grunt. He was congenial to your mushy touches; new to the gentleness he was receiving rather than ruthless force.

Thusly, it was entirely spiffing as it came with the freedom of impaling you till you were thrashing against his arms.

Your orgasm was quickly building up as you clenched around him, feeling his lips giving your neck wet, open mouthed kisses as he deeply whimpered. All-consuming changing his strokes as he pummeled yet again, holding onto your legs to surround himself better as he thrust brutishly, hitting a spot that loudly made you gasp, curving your spine as your breasts brushed against his fleecy chest, his medallion seeming to be in contrast to the heat that your mark has been giving.

This was what the voices inside your head wanted. The question is, why? For what reason?

"Geralt!" Your mouth was scrunched in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed together in a frenzy as you gripped onto Geralt's hair a little more tighter than you intended to, earning a low murmur of your nickname as he deathlessly shove and shove his hips, reaching you both in a place that'll give you what you needed and wanted.

A mind-wrecking orgasm.

One last drive of his hips, hitting the spot that uncoiled the havoc burning down below. You've seen the stars, maybe even the whole universe as you've obscenely moaned out with your mouth ajar, your orgasm making your eyes roll at the back of your head as you shuddered against his hold. Though, Geralt didn't stop there when you've continued to milk him whole. The swashing of bath water resonating the whole room and your amatory whimpers of delight came with his as he tries to reach his peak.

His thrusts turned sloppy and you knew he was close to coming. Your body was writhing against his, your cunt utterly sensitive as he nailed you over and over with his mouth-watering girth. Your body squirmed below him, moaning his name like a chant as it was the only word you could ever form.

You could feel another burst of bliss that spread through you as Geralt took one last sloppy thrust to your mound, lately realizing that he had slipped a hand between you both, urging you into another orgasm as he flicked and rubbed your clit; your second orgasm letting you emit a rather loud, noisy moan that would get any porn star shunning away because of how sensuous it sounded.

That last moan really got the witcher spewing out his load inside of you, also sending a witless guttural grunt when he came after you, ceasing once he rode out the orgasm with several sloppy thrusts before you've feebly and shakily reach out to grab onto the side of his sweaty and wet face as he slowly came to a stop, ushering him to look at you.

You've felt his come spread through you, summery and utterly pleasurable for the glow of your Cicatrix to be twinkling against the candle light. You were trying to catch your breath as Geralt also does to do so.

Your half-lidded eyes met his still diluted ones, the glow inside of it thoroughly comforting to your debauched form. The afterglow of sex making you feel spent but slightly quelled from your carnal gluttony.

You could feel his breathing turn even in less than a minute; the vulgar act washing away from how quick he seemed to got a hold of himself as your fingers brush against his temples, delicately wiping away the drop of sweat with your finger as the simple gesture was enough to make Geralt lean onto your touch.

He'd slightly turned his head, his nose nuzzling against your cheeks as this newfangled closeness was making him feel relaxed than he can ever get; having such a type of blessed peace that he may never imagine it to be, "Don’t worry," he huskily reassured, his thick fingers unclasping the hold he had on your waist, leaving a slight bruise that you obviously didn't mind.

You've heard the water splurge, his fingers lightly grasping your chin, turning you to look into his earnest eyes that was filled with sudden pique within it, "I'm---" his whole explanation was quickly cut off with a coaxing, soft tone of yours; doleful of what he wanted say. 

"Shhh. I-I know,"

A breathless, depleted midget laid beneath the witcher. His soft cock still inside your sensitive mound but paid no heed as you warmed him up. His face etched of bliss, though it appeared emotionless. Well, what man would be glum when he had a lay?

Geralt contemplated whether or not to pull out of you as he'd raked your naked body that stowed beneath him, those divine looking bites that rested upon your neck and even on your chest when he'd worship your body that no one ever had. Even so, he wasn't satisfied. Well, when did the witcher even been?

"Hmm." he fascinatingly hummed, eyes burning your skin as you watched him admire your midget of a body that he somehow find utterly exquisite. 

His enthralling amber landed on yours, his eyes darkening as it was keen for more. More he wanted to take and have because of the ravenous hunger utterly palpable. The Cicatrix that was engraved on the valley of your breast still gleaming beneath the candle light; his impassioned self seeming to be shared with you as the cravings were still there, strong and unwavering.

"I may need you one more time, midget." he roughly admitted, the tine of his nose brushing against yours in a sweet caress.

The latter has his eyes fluttered closed as he sighed, his salmon colored lips dangerously close to your swollen ones as he continued to rasp, "---or maybe all night," he leaned in close to leave a soft peck to your lips that he couldn't get enough with. 

"---and the weeks after,"

He consumed your lips once again, zealously keeping the sweltering heat going as he breathlessly snogged with you. Those needy fingers of his snaking to grip along the side of your neck; his kisses growing impatient and demanding as the sound of your lips smacking together was the only thing running in your mind, the urgency quickly building up again like it never even left.

The way he began to torridly kiss you felt like you were struggling to breath. His desire in having you again feverishly lighting you up as you've instantaneously break the kiss, panting before him as he chased for your lips before you had a finger laid between them, your face in flames while you got flustered, those rough fingers ceasing from kneading your taut breast on his other hand, "Maybe---maybe, a bed is nice to be ravished on? you know, with a mattress or something soft?"

You were completely flushed. Nose scrunched as you felt your heart pounding; waiting for his answer to your suggestion. Your mind was scolding you all through out as he held his silence, aware of his semi hard on that seemed to never want to leave your cunt as he tried and hinted for another nightly ravishing between you both.

Never in your life; even back in earth that you would actually get to experience sex in the making. The idea of you and another man going at it disturbing you before because you were worried they would despise your body and how you actually looked like, entirely bare. Yet, here you were, having your virginity taken by an attractive, hot mutant who slaughters beasts for a living in their dimension.

Fortunately, you were lucky in this department because of how magically you've met him and how gloriously you've been dicked down.

You wouldn't get to forget this once the effects of the Cicatrix finally comes to its halt or probably the morning after you've slept with Geralt. Your ribald suggestions for moving in a much more comfortable place while being rode off to Neverland will probably horrify you if the idea was taken into deliberation.

"I think I may have to agree, midget." Geralt gave a soft nod of understanding, intensely staring into your eyes as he has seen the same salacious look he has been giving; simmering down his worry about the thought that you weren't in the same page as he also was.

Perhaps, beasts aren't the only thing he butchers at night and in daylight.

Geralt only wanting this to be a one time opportunity? Oh, heck no. IT’S A PRANK! He never gets satisfied! LMAO JK 😂💖 FEEDBACKS ARE SO MUCH APPRECIATED! Please do! Heehee! (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you, bb’s!)

Taglist for WOTN: @alyxkbrl​​ @himarisolace​​ @barkingbullfrog​​ @ayamenimthiriel​​ @hellodevilslittlesister​​ @vania-marie​​ @spookypeachx​​ @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us​​ @nympeth​​ @amirahiddleston​​ @gabethelobster​​ @dreaming-about-starfleet​​ @uncoolcloudyhead​​ @melaninstylezz​​ @psychosupernatural​​ @missjenniferblog​ @dance-dreamer​​ @marvelousell​​ @kingniazx​​ @angelias134​​ @tapismyforte​​ @chook007​​ @covid-donotenter​​ @winter-moons​ @cheesecakeisapie​ @silverkitten547​​ @angelofthor​ @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum​, @stuckupstucky​, @shesthelastjedi​, @a--1--1--3​​

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza​

[fanfoolishness]

Bismuth Casual commentary

Spoilers ahoy hoy!

So uh Connie would you like Steven to hold you now??? because I would like that O______________O

I AIN’T SLEEPIN ON THAT BISMUTH BLUSH WHEN PEARL TOUCHES HER ARM AWWW YEAH

Pearl also you are so cute and oblivious

the only reason you seduced a Diamond is that she was even more obtuse than you are

PEARL YOU ARE UNBUTTONING HER SHIRT damn CN is really just letting them go for the gay now aren’t they, I fucking love it

I’m happy to hear Sour Cream again

and also a car commercial is where we first get Deedee Magno Hall’s mellifluous pipes again??? alright I’mma roll with it

OMFG Sour Cream has a poster of himself up on the wall in his dj booth I CAN’T

It just says “Sour” omg

“I’ve kinda missed out on a lot of human stuff!”

it’s... it’s fine

I’m okay

I’m not crying

I can’t believe how this show just made me think human stuff was boring in the beginning and then made me fucking LONG for it by the end

d’aaaaawww look at Pearl’s delightful alternative friends

also these humans being so cool kinda makes me feel inferior for being so... not? oh well it’s my own baggage

I do love that one of them appears to be in her 60s or later, it’s really sweet

TOILET PAPER OMFG PEARL SERIOUSLY

Connie is still a little taller I think!!! but only barely

I love how proud Pearl is of her friends

but mystery Girl!!

I guess Pearl just plays the field, it’s cool

It’s so sweet how impressed they were that Bismuth’s an architect!

Kinda sad that one of Connie’s friends isn’t Jeff from Mindful Education but it’s cool

I love the flower on Patricia’s hijab

STEVEN. STEVEN. STEVEN

NO ONE KNOWS WHO WHITE DIAMOND IS

NO ONE KNOWS ABOUT YOUR DEEPEST MOST PERSONAL TRAUMA

CONNIE WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU NOT SAVING HIM RN

Steven: “Ha ha ha! wow! sure was funny that time I almost fucking died from being pithed like a frog”

Connie’s friends: “that’s.... nice”

Connie: “so Steven’s just okay with this now??? I guess that’s... good????”

“What grade are you in, Steven?”

“uh... sixteen????”

Oh I’m glad we didn’t miss his 17th birthday! Do you think we’ll get to see it?

Growing Pains, maybe?

CONNIE FUCKING SAVE HIM OKAY

Just tell your friends he’s home-schooled or something for fucks’ sake

Steven is me and ice skating

In college I went ice skating

I stopped counting how many times I fell down after the TWENTY-FIFTH INSTANCE

My knees were bags of BLOOD for a WEEK

could hardly fucking walk

they were such enormous hematomas, so purple and swollen my jeans barely fit over them

SO FUCK ICE SKATING

I am with you Steven

“Don’t worry about me!” Steven called

Connie should, in fact, have worried about him

Bispearl BISPEARL BISPEARL

Pearl is so excited about the vandalism properties of TP

I just.... this is so pure

Connie is a good friend, Steven

She would happily eat tater tots with you!

why are you rejecting this??? it is THE DREEEEAM

also the hell is this sign behind Steven? It’s in Diamond colors, I SEE YOU

i. love. the entire Steven - Bismuth exchange.

he’s finally realized it. “I think I’ve forgotten how to talk to humans.”

I’M SAD

BUT ALSO GLAD THE PROBLEM IS STARTING TO BE NAMED

also... TOILET PAPER

awww Bismuth asks about Connie and Greg. I just love that even Gems later to Steven’s life know how important these two are.

Of course Steven, typical teen, “my dad doesn’t count.”

why do you think I don’t have kids y’all

“And Connie.... it’s fine when it’s just us, but I don’t know how to talk to her when she’s with her friends.”

oh moooooood

the boy I dated in high school -- I had no idea how to be around him and be around other people at the same time

because you cultivate different versions of yourself around different people

like a boggart

and if you try to present too many versions at once you’ll collapse and fall apart

BISPEARL IS REAL

“She’s like the Pearl I remember, but a little different.  She’s happier.”

THERE ARE WORLDS OF MATERIAL IN THAT

Corruption hadn’t even happened yet. Pink Diamond hadn’t been “shattered” yet.  Pearl was by Rose’s side, fighting the good fight, flush with the glory of rebellion--

Rose is gone.

And Pearl is happier.

DAMN.

“I wonder if I’m even her best friend anymore.”

Bismuth: FUCK THAT NOISE STEVEN UNIVERSE

“OF COURSE YOU’RE WEIRD” god I fucking love her, she is such a treasure, Pearl is so lucky

Bismuth rock theme x Crystal gem theme in the background makes me happy

TRIUMPHANT CHIPTUNE faceplant

Steven apologizes. That makes... NINE of TWELVE episodes of Steven Universe Future where he apologizes to someone.

STEVONNIE STEVONNIE STEVONNIE

They hugged themself three separate times during that dance awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Connie: “Fusion? Oh, that’s kind of our thing.”  GIRRRRRL now that is a humblebrag if I ever heard one and I love it

CONNVERSE HANDHOLD

HANDHOLDIIIIIIING

look at them having a whole-ass conversation still holding each other’s hands

also the ridiculous skating together with one skate each

Bismuth you go get her gem, you can do it

and finally... BLESS THIS IMAGE

now to die

[screamingatanemptyroom]

I Can’t Eat Love Pt 6

Here is the next part! Please Enjoy! 

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5  linked here

____________________________

The next week was brutal. 

Each day I would get up before dawn, moving to my office to get started as soon as possible. Reading, studying, I was trying to learn a lifetime of knowledge at a breakneck pace. I still was piecing together bills and tax documents, working with Hallers to consolidate all the debt I could. Fortunately, as I was still in good standing with the Royal family, the interest and repayment plans were very generous.

I stayed locked in that tiny room, only to pause whenever Hallers brought up a meal, an increasingly worried expression on his face with each passing day.

“Miss, you must sleep!” He broke his professional silence on the fourth day, as he walked in late into the night, finding me reading a chapter on historical government forms while taking notes by candlelight. I glanced up, surprised to see him still dressed up in a proper butler uniform despite the late hour.

“Hallers, I’m sorry, did I wake you? I just have a few more pages… and then there’s still the letters from the Eastern section of Duchy….” I leaned back, rubbing my eyes with a yawn. “You might as well go to bed. I’ll make sure to blow the candle out when I finish.”

 He stood his ground, looking determined. “No, Miss.”  He picked up the candle, ignoring my squawk of protest. “I cannot let you run yourself into the ground. You cannot save this Duchy in the space of a week.”

“But… I …”

“The work will be waiting for you in the morning. But for now, please, I’m begging you… go to sleep?” He looked so miserable, I found myself nodding without realizing it.

“Fine. I’ll do this in the morning.”

I went off to bed, hiding a smile. When was the last time someone worried about whether or not I slept?

Beyond the work I had to do between lessons and the financial organization, there was still the matter of the corruption within the Duchy to deal with.

“Hallers?” Early in the week, I called him into the office.

 He stood at attention, waiting.  “Yes, Miss?”

I handed him a paper. “I need you, or someone you would trust with your life, to go into the city. In the Northwest square you will find a man who sits under a blue awning named “Rig.” Hand him this note, and tell him that you will purchase the information requested within for 50 crowns.”

Despite the oddity of the request, Hallers was a professional, his only reaction a single raised eyebrow “Is that all?”

“No.” I sighed. “He will demand at least twice the amount offered. You are to refuse this and tell him that ‘Angel’ sent you.”

“Who is this ‘Angel’, miss?”

“No one.” I laughed. “It’s a code, which only his inner circle know. If you say this, it will allow you to purchase the information I need for that price. He will tell you when you can retrieve it.”

Who would have thought that the knowledge I had earned being one of Rig’s info runners while living on the street would be helpful so quickly? I had hated the man at the time, but even I had to admit that he was the best when it came down to tracking down things others wanted to hide.

“It will be done.” With a short bow, he turned to leave. I called after him. 

“Oh, and Hallers?” When he paused, I added, “Postpone any meeting with our men involved in tax collection/counting until after you have what I requested.”

“It will be helpful to you?”

I grinned evilly. “Let’s just say I don’t believe in going into battle without a weapon.”

____________________________

Despite the drastic change in my schedule, my parents remained completely unaware. My Father, relieved that he didn’t have to pretend to care about the paperwork anymore, went riding and hunting, enjoying himself thoroughly. As long as he wasn’t spending money, I was content to let him be. As for my mother… fortunately she had been visiting her family in the South since my reawakening, and was not scheduled to return for another month. I was curious to see my mother, since my last words to her were on her deathbed. Our relationship was strained at best, however, and I need to figure out how to approach her.

The Duke and Duchess may not have been concerned with the abrupt changes I had made in my life, but it had not gone unnoticed by others. 

“What’s come over you, Miss?” my maid Angela shook her head, frustrated as she assisted me undressing one evening. “You dress so simply these days. You never go to the Royal palace gardens or visit Lady Edith anymore! Is there something wrong?”

I smiled at her grumbling. In my previous life, whenever I hadn’t been trying to perfect my etiquette lessons, I had wandered the Royal Gardens with Edith, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Prince. It seemed so silly, so empty now.

 I shook my head. “Everything is fine. Mrs. Rendler simply increased the difficulty of my etiquette lessons, and I have a lot of work to do to catch up.”

“You don’t have to work so hard, though!” She muttered, putting away my gown. “It’s not as if…” She trailed off, as if realizing what she was about to say.

It’s not as if I’ll ever get to be Queen. Of course, I know that… but how does she? I smiled, the expression cold. “Angela. Are you saying I shouldn’t do my best at preparing to be Queen?”

She panicked slightly, backing away. “No, of course not! I – I just want you to be happy.”

I kept my eyes on her own, appreciating the fear I saw there. “I appreciate the concern.”

I placed the confrontation to the back of my mind, refusing to think it through to its conclusion, but things were stirred up once more by a an unexpected encounter towards the end of the week, the day before my next trip tot the palace. She showed up unannounced, barging into my office, with Hallers trailing behind, a disapproving expression on his face at her intrusion.

“Lenora! What’s going on?!” She was a beautiful girl. Golden hair, light colored eyes, long lashes… she looked as if she had stepped out of a storybook, exactly what I thought a princess should look like.

“Edith.” The name felt wrong to say out loud after so long.

____________________________

“EDITH!” I sobbed, falling to my knees in front of her.  “You have to help me!”

She stared at me silently with glassy eyes, a polite smile hiding any deeper emotion.

Exhausted, starving, I reached out a hand towards her.

“Please, mother, father… they’re both gone… I lost my job with the seamstress… someone told them I had stolen something... I don’t know what to do!”

My hand grasped empty air instead of her skirt. She had stepped back out of my reach.

“What do you expect me to do?” Her words were lifeless, she stared at me as if I were an insect, rather than her childhood friend.

I held my grumbling stomach, hating that I looked so pathetic and weak. “Can you talk to the Queen…?”

“She refuses to hear your name.” Edith interrupted, a small gleam in her eye. “She heard the kind of dirty crimes you committed on the street, and says that you are dead to her.”

Dead? Dead.  Dead… the word repeated itself in my mind over and over, like a chant. Was that the woman who had called me her daughter, who said she loved me?

“That can’t be true! I’ve not committed any crimes. Why would she… say that? I can’t believe it!”

“Well it’s true.” Edith sighed, looking around as if searching for an excuse to leave. “Was there anything else?”

I looked back at her, lost, confused. I was so hungry. Can you help me find work? Or at least give me something to eat?”

“Sorry,” She didn’t look sorry. “My father has forbidden that I be around you anymore. He’s worried it will effect my reputation as the future Queen.” 

“What are you saying?” I stared at my only friend in the world, feeling the shattered remnants of my heart break even further.

“Goodbye, Lenora.” Refusing to look at me anymore, she walked away.

“EDITH!”

____________________________

“I haven’t seen you in days!” Edith smiled brightly, the expression turning my stomach. “I missed you!”

Her act wasn’t extremely convincing this time, to a more experienced eye. Her smile was a little too stiff, her eyes cold and calculating as they looked around the room, trying to determine what I had been up to. Even as she told me she missed me her voice seemed more irritated then sad, as if she were frustrated that I had made her do the work instead of going to her as I usually did.

 I returned her smile. “I’ve missed you too!” Standing up from my desk, I reached out, giving her a hug.

I was a much better actress.

“What are you doing? I’ve heard you’ve been locked away in this room for days!” She grabbed my hands, a true look of concern crossing her face.

“Really? Who did you hear it from?”

She balked at that question. “Oh you know… just around.”

“I see.” I looked over at Hallers with a frown, who looked furious. He nodded to me briefly and left, likely to interrogate the staff regarding who had been gossiping about my activities. I let him go, although I already had my own suspicions.

 I brought Edith away from my desk and papers, not wishing for her to see any of the Duchy’s financial numbers, and sat us down on some chairs near the fireplace. I didn’t bother ringing for tea, I knew Hallers would have already arranged it.

“What brings you here?” I asked, keeping my voice casual and polite.

Edith laughed. “What nonsense! As if I needed a reason to see my friend. I was hoping we could spend some time together, perhaps walk through the gardens?”

“I see.” I nodded, thinking it over. She wanted to see the prince, I suppose.

 “So can we go?”

“Well, not today because I have to finish some work here, or tomorrow because I have to attend my lessons with the Queen.” I noted the angry flash in her eyes at the mention of my royal etiquette lessons, but continued without comment. “Perhaps next week we can walk through the gardens.”

She looked disappointed. “Next week?”

“And perhaps I can arrange for us to have tea with the prince.” I laughed as her demeanor brightened. “Wouldn’t that be fun?!” 

“Well, if I wouldn’t be in the way…” She trailed off, watching me slyly.

“Of course not.” 

How many times had these conversations happened before? How many times did I unknowingly bring her to see my fiancé, allowing them to grow closer, sealing my own fate. Well, go with my blessing this time, Edith. I don’t want him.

Edith, unaware of my inner thoughts, seemed relieved. “Alright then, that would be fun! I just worry about you, Lenora! Don’t work too hard in this dreary little room! If you don’t go spend as much time with the Prince as possible he might lose interest!” Her hand rested on my arm. I struggled to not fling her off. “Trust me.”

I hid all my feelings deep inside, smiling brightly for her to see. “Of course I trust you.”

[bluewatsons]

Laura Miller, Sleazy, bloody and surprisingly smart: In defense of true crime, Salon (May 30, 2014)

This stigmatized genre has much to teach us about the way crime and justice really work

Give me a book that begins with a time and a date and a boring address, something along the lines of "At 9:36 on March 24, 1982, Dep. Frank McGruff of the Huntington County Sheriff's Department was dispatched to 234 Maple Street in Pleasantville, North Carolina, a quiet, suburb 10 miles west of Raleigh, to follow up on reports of gunshots and screams."

There is nothing more generic than this sort of sentence -- which is why I was easily able to make one up on the fly -- and yet there's nothing more seductive, either. In it is promised: the regular-guy lawman (who always seems to have a new baby at home), the horrific crime scene (there is always more blood than anyone expects), the enigmatic object found lying in the foyer (marked with an X in the helpfully provided floor plan), the minute-by-minute timeline of that fatal half-hour, the witness reports that don't add up, the fractal-like multiplication of scenarios and theories and complications.

I've always felt somewhat sheepish about my appetite for true crime narratives, associated as they are with fat, flimsy paperbacks scavenged from the 25-cent box at garage sales, their battered covers branded with screaming two-word titles stamped in silver foil, blood dripping luridly from the last letter. The most famous practitioners of this louche genre -- Joe McGinniss, Ann Rule, Vincent Bugliosi -- come coated with a thin, greasy film of dubious repute and poor taste. (Can there ever be a valid reason to title a book "A Rose for Her Grave"?) True crime is also the mother's milk of risible tabloid journalism, of endless trashy news cycles in which the same photo of a wide-eyed innocent bride (where is she?); a gap-toothed kindergarten student (who killed him?); a bleary-eyed, stubbled suspect (why did he do it?) appear over and over and over again.

Occasionally, true crime is where literary writers go to slum and, not coincidentally, make some real money: Truman Capote's "In Cold Blood," Norman Mailer's "The Executioner's Song." It's not the Great American Novel, yet somehow such books have a tendency to end up the most admired works of a celebrated author's career. Is it because better writers tease something out of the genre that pulp peddlers can't, or is it just that their blue-chip names give readers a free pass to indulge a guilty pleasure?

By contrast, crime fiction has a better rep. It is the most respectable form of genre fiction, the one that even the snootiest literary critics will admit to enjoying now and then. They justly praise the innovative prose styles of Raymond Chandler or Elmore Leonard as vehicles for a distinctively American voice. And crime -- transgression of the social and moral order -- is one of literature's central themes, after all. Isn't one of the greatest novels of all time called "Crime and Punishment"? Plus, from Cormac McCarthy's "No Country for Old Men" to Toni Morrison's "Beloved," many novels by literary titans are crime fiction by another name.

True crime, however, labors always under the stigma of voyeurism, or worse. It's not just unseemly to linger over the bloodied bodies of the dead and the hideous sufferings inflicted upon them in their final hours, it's also kind of sick. Gillian Flynn's second novel, "Dark Places," describes the wincing interactions between its narrator -- survivor of a notorious multiple murder like the Clutter killings of "In Cold Blood" -- and a creepy subculture of murder "fans" and collectors; when she's hard up for cash, she's forced to auction off family memorabilia at their conventions. Yuck.

The very thing that makes true crime compelling -- this really happened -- also makes it distasteful: the use of human agony for the purposes of entertainment. Of course, what is the novel if not a voyeuristic enterprise, an attempt to glimpse inside the minds and hearts of other people? But with fiction, no actual people are exploited in the making.

I love crime fiction, too, but lately I've come to appreciate true crime more, specifically for its lack of certain features that crime fiction nearly always supplies: solutions, explanations, answers. Even if the culprit isn't always caught and brought to justice in a detective novel, we expect to find out whodunit, and that expectation had better be satisfied. A novelist who dares to build her narrative around a murder and then refuses to collar the perp by the last chapter -- as Donna Tartt did in her sumptuous, underappreciated second novel, "The Little Friend" -- will never hear the end of it. Readers of books and viewers of television and film demand not only to know who did it but why, preferably with a tidy little back story about a molesting uncle, bullying schoolmates or a mom who tricked with sailors in the next room. We believe in evil, but we also want pop psychology to explain it away.

Crime fiction reassures us that for every murder there is a sleuth as obsessed as we are with getting to the bottom of the puzzle. There are the formulaic clashes between the committed police detective and the self-serving brass, the feds who interfere with the locals (or vice versa) for purely territorial reasons, the nagging spouse and the occasional sloppy, time-serving colleague who just wants to wrap this thing up before he's set to retire with a full pension. But there's also always someone, the hero -- whether public officer or private dick -- who really, really wants to find out the truth and has the brains (and sometimes the brawn) required to do it.

Because most of us have a lot more experience with crime fiction -- TV and movies, but also books -- than we do with actual crime, our sense of how law enforcement works has been distorted by the imperatives of entertainment. Forensic scientists often complain that the public expects them to possess and deploy the wizardly high-tech tools they see every week on "CSI." Because the "CSI" team's gear is presented as omniscient and infallible, legal professionals must contend with jurors' overinflated confidence in forensic evidence. Even the most appalling news stories of incompetent or corrupt lab workers will never register as deeply as watching Gil Grissom and his earnest sidekicks stay up all night and ruin their marriages for the sake of seeing justice done.

For all their lingering shots of mangled bodies and gooey, maggot-ridden corpses, these TV procedurals paint a too-pretty picture. If Jack Nicholson were a true-crime author, he'd be telling the audience for such pseudo-gritty shows that they can't handle the truth. Finding myself seated next to a criminal prosecutor-turned-defense attorney at a wedding several years ago, I asked him what pop culture gets the most wrong about crime and punishment in America. After a long pause, he said, "I'm torn between two answers: How much police care about getting it right and how competent they are to do it."

True crime is not above trafficking in misleading clichés -- because, let's face it, there's not much that true crime is above. The majority of the genre is cheap sensationalism, deploying the most shopworn clichés: tragic maidens; idyllic small towns; smiling devils; winsome, doomed tots. Much true crime has achieved its goals if it gives its readers something to shiver over late at night or to whisper about at school. (Most of my early knowledge of true crime classics like "Helter Skelter" came from other girls who got ahold of the books while baby sitting and recounted the most horrific details to a breathless audience on the playground the next day.) Plenty of it offers a comforting message similar to that of crime fiction: that, for all the bewildering and seemingly random violence of this world, it is usually possible for us to know what really happened and who's responsible.

But we also live in a golden age when it comes to a more challenging vein of true crime. These books include Robert Kolker's "Lost Girls," about 14 unsolved murders in Long Island; Raymond Bonner's "Anatomy of Injustice," about the wrongful capital conviction of a black handyman for the rape and murder of an elderly white widow in South Carolina; Janet Malcolm's "Iphigenia in Forest Hills," about the celebrated journalist's inability to accept the guilty verdict against a young mother accused of hiring a man to murder her ex-husband; and Errol Morris' "A Wilderness of Error," which is in part a challenge to another milestone in the genre, Joe McGinniss' "Fatal Vision." Coming up next month is another landmark, "The Wrong Carlos," by James Liebman and the Columbia DeLuna Project, an exhaustively researched consideration of a 1980s case in which the state of Texas most likely executed the wrong man.

Even true crime books in which the identity of the killer is uncontested can open up welcome vistas of uncertainty. Recently, Anand Giridharadas' "The True American" examines the lives of two men: the sole survivor of a hate-crime spree, who forgave and tried to save his would-be killer, and the killer himself, who seems to have become a different man before his 2011 execution; who was he, really? Dave Cullen's masterful "Columbine," published in 2009, offers the most definitive account of the infamous school shooting and clears up many misperceptions, but still leaves the reader with a sense that the reasons for such acts may be fundamentally unknowable. Several years ago, when I was interviewing Margaret Atwood about "Alias Grace," her novel about a maid convicted of killing her master in 19th-century Canada, she remarked that murderers themselves often don't seem to understand their own crimes. They describe the acts as something that "just happened" or as if they were committed by someone else even as they acknowledge they did it. The true crime accounts I've read confirm what Atwood said.

Most important of all, true crime reminds its readers over and over again that most detectives aren't fantastically clever, that most investigations make dozens of significant mistakes and that even the most seemingly hard evidence can become as indeterminate as a quantum particle under sustained study. Sometimes the confusion is understandable. Jeff Guinn's "Manson," a biography of the murderous cult leader published last year, recounts how long the LAPD spent pursuing a bogus scenario in investigating the massacre at Sharon Tate's home.

Investigators assumed that because drugs were found on the premises, the motive was probably a drug deal or connection gone bad. Manson had his followers plant "clues," in the form of weird words written on the wall in blood, with the bizarre idea that the police would instantly link these words to the Black Panthers. (They instead assumed it was just crazy druggie writing, which of course it was.) Much time was lost before the cops were put on the right track by an informant. This, incidentally, is how most real-life whodunits, such as the Unabomber attacks, seem to be solved. There's nothing like true crime to dispel the notion that criminals get caught because of a detective's brilliant reading of the clues. Rather, they get caught because someone rats them out.

Nowhere is the danger of investigators' tendency to settle too early on a theory of the crime more evident than in stories of wrongful conviction. As "Anatomy of Injustice" tells it, police decided that Edward Lee Elmore, the simple-minded African-American man who had mowed neighborhood lawns for years, suddenly turned violent. Under the influence of a suspiciously meddlesome neighbor, a local city councilman, they ignored significant evidence contradicting this theory, and eventually resorted to falsifying evidence, while Elmore's own lawyers barely bothered to defend him at all. Finally, thanks to the efforts of an attorney working for South Carolina's Center for Capital Litigation, the conviction was overturned. The actual murderer has never been identified, but at least an innocent man has escaped death row.

Investigations aren't always led astray by deliberate manipulation, however. In "The Wrong Carlos," confused and inept handling of the crime scene, witnesses and hunt for the man who stabbed a convenience store clerk in Corpus Christi combined with coincidence and bad luck to lead to the unjust execution of Carlos DeLuna. He was the spitting image of the likely culprit to the degree that even people who knew either of the men quite well couldn't tell photos of them apart. Under the aegis of Liebman, 12 Columbia Law School students pored over the records of the case, producing a meticulous and highly detailed report on the crime investigation and trial -- which, while sobering, is also catnip for the amateur detective. It strongly suggests DeLuna was innocent and it's so convincing that even the victim's brother agrees.

Robert Kolker's "Lost Girls" and Errol Morris' "A Wilderness of Error" may be the most accomplished true crime narratives I've read in recent years. The killer or killers responsible for dumping bodies along a lonely Long Island road have yet to be identified. The investigation appears to be stalled for a variety of reasons having to do with the personalities and ambitions of local officials. So Kolker's "Lost Girls" focuses instead on the lives and families of the dead, young women who drifted into the world of prostitution and could not succeed at pulling themselves out again. It's a portrait of underclass life, frayed by substance abuse, domestic violence, crime and fecklessness, and it asks not what circumstances create a monster but which ones forge his victims.

"A Wilderness of Error" is remarkable not just for questioning a murder investigation and conviction but also for condemning the famous true-crime narrative written about them. Morris is a master of the genre, albeit in a different medium (documentary film) and can even claim to have gotten an innocent man out of jail by making "The Thin Blue Line" in 1988. Above all, he is preoccupied with how we establish what's true. His first book, "Believing Is Seeing: Observations on the Mysteries of Photography," dismantles our faith in the facticity of photographed images. "A Wilderness of Error," his second, concerns the case of Jeffrey MacDonald, convicted of murdering his wife and two small children in 1970. The crimes were the center of a bestselling book, "Fatal Vision" by Joe McGinniss, later made into a TV movie, that pressed home McGinniss' theory that MacDonald was a psychopath.

The writing of "Fatal Vision" was the subject of yet another book, Janet Malcolm's "The Journalist and the Murderer," devoted to probing the moral soft spots in all journalists' relationships to their subjects, but Morris believes these murders were insufficiently investigated and that MacDonald did not get a fair trial. Many aficionados of the trial find Morris' arguments unconvincing, but that is partly Morris' point. Just like the cops, outside observers settle on a story about what happened and become invested in it. They then ignore or dismiss any evidence that undermines that story, often with a vehemence that increases as the counter-evidence mounts. Certainty, an emotional state all too common today, is less a testament to the merits of a belief than a measure of how much we want to go on believing it.

At the very least, Morris presents a convincing case that an uncertain McGinniss was pushed into endorsing MacDonald's guilt by his publisher because offering a conclusion would make for a more satisfying book. Later, of course, the author had no choice but to double down on that conclusion, and whether or not he believed it before his editor urged him to declare the case solved in his own mind, he seems to have fully believed it in the end. All this would be meat for an interesting consideration of the nature of truth and whether it can ever be meaningfully detached from desire, but as Morris keeps pointing out, when it comes to true crime, real lives and real justice are at stake. Crime fiction can afford to go on telling us what we want to hear, but at its best true crime insists on telling us what we can't afford to forget.

[hussyknee]

Hey, I heard about the attacks on the radio this morning and didn't hav any access tot the internet until now, but a) I'm really glad you're okay and b) my thoughts and prayers are with you and all Sri Lanka, I really hope y'all are safe and c) anything more that we (AKA people living on other continents) can do to help?

Thank you very much dear nonnie. Thoughts and prayers are appreciated, but at this point in time there's really nothing any of us can do, unless we're specifically government-deployed emergency workers. We're still trying to wrap our heads around this series of terrifyingly co-ordinated attacks, trying to put out social media fires and trying to stop people playing the blame game before the corpses have even begun to cool.

Honestly, I don't even know if making this trend on social media is a good idea. Our economy is heavily invested in tourism, especially with the real estate and capital development bubble about to burst, and after ten years of struggling back to its feet after a 26 year war, it received a gutshot today. I don't know how much harm it will do for Sri Lanka to be indelibly connected with terrorism and foreign deaths in people's minds, while our painstakingly built reputation as one of the world's most desirable vacation destinations lie in tatters.

This isn't a callous concern. Thanks to the 51-day political crisis last October and the corruption and mismanagement of public funds by the war criminal Rajapaksas for years before that, the country is by now suffocating under debt and empty coffers. Entrepreneurs and small businesses are going bankrupt over unpaid contracts and heavy taxation; even the middle-class feel like we're barely treading water and the waters are closing over the heads of the poor. The Sri Lankan rupee which has been dropping to all-time lows but gained a small amount of traction over the last two months of relative stability, is now going to plummet. Frankly, I'm scared we might not be able to eat soon. Securing the economy MUST be a main concern, (not least because it aggravates racial tensions) and while empathy is wonderful, I personally honestly don't know what's best for our economic situation.

I would say tread very carefully. Wait, watch, share, keep us in your thoughts and see what we may need after the debris is cleared. But thank you so much for wanting to help!

EDIT: okay we have a clearer picture of what's going on now. Please go in the Sri Lanka Easter Sunday tags on tumblr and signal boost. We can't bear this alone anymore.

[sweetveehc]

2x09 HCs

Rewatching 2x09 gave me some Hc so like IK it’s not Christmas but uwu

The secret Santa party that Kevin hosts SP tags along with Veronica

Archie and Reggie scowl when he comes in

Even Jughead whose a serpent tells SP later at the Wrym he shouldn’t have been there

Veronica doesn’t care sitting on his lap tucked under his chin

After that’s over they to the Wrym

Veronica teaches him how to properly wrap toy boxes

Not that they get much done with her on his lap

And him kissing up and down her neck the whole time

When FP calls Sweet Pea to go on the drug run he tells Veronica to stay and help Fangs and Toni

When he does get back Veronica is all over him

Tall boy and FP call him whipped when he bends down kissing her

Most of the serpents know just how whipped he is for the little lodge

Many of them didn’t like the idea of them together because of her last name

But she’s helped a lot more than they thought

Veronica helped especially with the toys for tots and meals on wheels

Bringing in almost a truck load of gifts for kids of all ages

When Sweet Pea tells her the plan they have for Penny she about protest he doesn’t go

And waits up almost all night for him to get back pacing around the Wrym watching the clock

FP pats her back saying the young serpents do this a lot and can stay out really late

Veronica understands and takes her mind off it by going back to wrapping gifts

When he does come through the doors of the Wrym she’s immediately on him again

Saying she was worried fucking sick about him

He tells her he’s fine and that she needs to remember he’s in a gang

They go to Pop’s afterwards and he tells her what went down

Veronica’s skin crawls when SP says Jughead cut off Penny’s tattoo

Sweet Pea tells her it’s fine and that people will get hurt it’s a part of it

That night they have a fight

About Veronica joining the serpents

She says it’s fine and that she grew up around evil and corrupt people

He says the serpents are different and that her dad is what kept her safe

“I have you to be there for me I grew up around terrible people Sweet Pea! I can handle my damn self!”

“Your Dad is what kept you safe Veronica and I can’t fucking do that okay! I’m always gone on business and who knows if one day some fucking ghoulie wants to come and find you and I’m not there!”

It ends with Sweet Pea winning the agrument

Veronica’s still upset but they come to a compromise

He tells her more about what he’s exactly doing with the serpents instead of only calling it ‘business’ and she doesn’t them

When he drops her gift off Veronica’s heart is practically bursting with joy

Because she has the most amazing gift planned for him

He buys her a necklace

The gold ones that spell out your name

But hers says doll

His nickname since the beginning for her (be sides princess)

She never takes it off

But Veronica splurged a little too much on his gift

She had Andre take it to the Wrym while she was watching him kick Fang’s ass at another round of pool

When she gets the text that it’s there she asks if they can talk outside real quick

Bringing him outside sitting in the front is a shiney brand new motorcycle

His old one had definitely seen better days and he’s been complaining from time to time about how he needed a new one

Veronica is so happy to see how much he likes

He pretty much drowns her in kisses and squeezes her so tight she’s sure she lost her circulation for a minute

They take it for a test drive around the Southside

It’s the best Christmas gift he’s ever fucking gotten

He’s always proud to walk out of the Wrym and see his bike sitting there

It stands out with how new it is

Fangs always teases Veronica asking her “so you gonna buy us all bikes for Christmas next year or?”

[captain-yeet]

It’s The Little Things (Bucky Barnes One-Shot)

This is the first part of my casual Bucky Barnes drabble series “Living Again”. You can find it here , it’s my first time writing the boys so I hope I did them justice.

Summary: Bucky loves his "Sleep Days" but Steve is concerned. Time to get this sleepy boy out of bed, plus some heart to heart time.

Warnings: Themes of Depression, Steve being a wholesome bud. We all need a friend like Steve

It was a bright, crisp fall morning when the super soldier moaned and tugged the blanket back partially over his face, concealing himself from the bright light invading his room. All you could see was a mess of brown shaggy hair peaking out just at the top of the blanket.

It was a Sunday. He had planned to sleep. Sunday's were his "Sleep Days," as he liked to call them.

But that was not in the cards for one Steven Grant Rogers.

Bucky groaned when three short precise knocks against his door disturbed him. Maybe if I pretend to sleep and not answer he'll go away, he moaned internally to himself.

Nope.

More knocks came. "Buck, are you up yet?" Steve's voice called out.

Bucky groaned dramatically and rolled further into the bed, limbs splayed out carelessly.

Sighing, Steve opened the door to Bucky's room. "It's a nice day Buck, I was hoping you'd like to maybe head out somewhere today?"

"It's my Sleep Day," a muffled voice whined from under the covers, making Steve chuckle.

"Pal, you've been sleeping way too much lately, some sunlight will do you some good," he replied lightly, yet his smile dimmed a little.

Both Steve and Bucky knew that he was right. While Shuri did help remove the corrupt HYDRA programming in his head, he still wasn't quite himself yet, in the sense that he had a lot of healing to do mentally. Bucky still harboured a lot of guilt from his Winter Soldier days. Sleep didn't come easy to him; at night was when the nightmares came. It was always the same - past victims of The Winter Soldier coming back to haunt him, asking him "Why?", and then his body would betray him and he'd has to watch helplessly as his limbs reenacted those killings all over again. It was as of he was a mere puppet, watching with no way to fight back against the strings pulling him along, making him do horrible things.

He woke up screaming a lot, drenched in sweat and shaking like a leaf. That was the first sign that alerted his best friend that he wasn't doing okay.

"Bucky?" Steve called out gently, leaning against the doorframe.

Breathing deeply, Bucky threw back the covers, weary blue eyes looking back at America's Golden Boy. "Alright, I'm up. What did you have in mind today?"

"You'll see when we get there," Steve offered a smile, happy to see that his friend was at least trying to stay coherent for his sake. "I'll leave you to get dressed, we leave in 10."

He closed the door behind him. As soon as he did, Bucky let out another groan, falling back onto the bed spread-eagled. That punk is so fucking persistent.

At first, he thought Steve's idea was to go for a jog or something, which was the norm for him. But instead, Steve took Bucky to a little coffee shop down in Brooklyn. It was small and quiet, only a few people inside and minding their own business. No one spared a glance at the two super soldiers as they entered the shop. Steve ordered each of them some coffees and the pair sat down at a booth by the window.

"I didn't think you were the coffee shop type of guy, man," Bucky joked, still feeling groggy but trying to wake himself up.

"Well, I figured you wouldn't be in the mood for a run, and I've come in here enough to know that you'd probably like the place."

A minute of silence between the two passed. Steve awkwardly cleared his throat before speaking plainly, "I'm worried about you, Buck."

Bucky's gaze was trained out the window, he felt too shameful to meet his friend's concerned eyes. "I know."

Steve sighed, a hand reaching up to scratch his beard, a nervous tick he'd developed since growing it. "You know, T'Challa mentioned that if you ever changed your mind about staying in Wakanda -"

"He's done enough for me already," Bucky's gaze flicked back to Steve, then down to his new vibranium arm, just visible from under his sleeve and glove.

Despite the circumstances that lead to Bucky Barnes entering Wakanda in the first place, he adored the country. It was the most beautiful place he'd ever been to in his eyes, and the technology! He remembered how back in the day he would be impressed with the prototype flying cars at the Stark Expo back in the 40's, but Wakanda's tech never failed to fascinate him. He remembered watching Shuri work on his new arm and asking tons of questions about what she was doing, how it all worked... looking back he probably annoying the poor girl to death with his non-stop questionnaire, but if he did, she never showed any sign of it.

He stayed on a small farm for a while while Shuri was working on de-programming the HYDRA crap in his brain, tending to goats. He liked it. Bucky had never considered the farm life before, but after Wakanda, he quite liked it a lot. It was peaceful, and rewarding.

Bucky broke out of his reminiscing and looked back at Steve. "I need to get back into the swings of things again, learn how to live like a regular person," he began, but before he could continue, a barista brought over their coffees.

Steve kindly thanked the woman who brought over their order - one Americano coffee for him, and one Irish Black for Bucky. He figured the hint of Whiskey would be the kick to his system he needs to feel a bit more awake. Taking a long sip of his own drink, Steve gestured with his hand for Bucky to continue.

Bucky held his drink in his metal hand; it was piping hot, but he couldn't feel the heat. Perks of having a metal limb, he thought to himself. "I... I-I know that I haven't been doing so hot lately. And, I know that that worries you and the rest of the team. But," he took a deep breath before speaking again. "I want to try. I want to leave HYDRA behind me, as much as I possibly can. I want to be able to function like any other guy but..."

"But the functioning part is hard?" Steve finished the sentence for him, seeing where he was going.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, it's hard. I barely have the motivation to get up and do things, Steve."

He paused from talking to take a swig from his coffee, humming pleasantly in surprise at the taste. Steve took this moment to speak. "You know... after I came out of the ice, I found it hard to readjust to things." Now it was Steve not making eye contact, instead looking out the window. "Things had changed so much... everyone I knew - you, Peggy, basically every person I'd ever remotely bonded with during the war - was gone. The world was different, and that wasn't easy for me."

"So how'd ya cope?" asked Bucky, now listening intently.

Steve tilted his head tot he side, thinking a little first. "Honestly?" he made eye contact with his friend once again, who waited patiently for him to continue. "It's the little things that helped me get by. I didn't do very well with taking care of myself at first. But I started small, making myself get out of bed by eight in the morning, brushing my teeth and then going for a run or hitting a punching bag."

Bucky's brows furrowed, he felt confused. "Just... brushing your teeth and exercise?"

Steve shrugged, giving him a small smile. "Sometimes it's the little things that help you get outta bed, you know?"

With that. the two drank their coffees in silence, leaving Bucky to mull over what Steve had said and Steve deep in his own thoughts. He hoped their little coffee shop banter would give Bucky something to think about, or at least that he gave some semblance of good advice to his best friend.

They've always said to each other "I'm with you to the end of the line," and that was exactly what Steve Rogers planned to do, even if he had to drag Bucky Barnes out of his own darkness.

[grim-macabre]

I have no idea if you talked about this or not, but could you go into the lore of the Grima's vessel lineage?

I am always willing to go into this again, it’s kind of the core foundation of the whole universe spun around my FE OCs across all games soooooo…yeah. I always have more to say, another grim witch lore dump under the cut.

Now to clear some things up, the time line in my mind chronologically of the DS games (Whether it’s canon or not I have my own issues with how they explain Severa and the rest’s presence in fates. I don’t mind it I just have my own personal headcanons and explanations for it.) is Echoes, then Awakening, and finally fates. Furthermore this blog operates primarily under and altered ending in which instead of destroying Grima or putting it to sleep with the Falchion instead Wysteria was able to instead regain control over the beast after giving it up willingly to protect one of her children. Thus reducing it’s physical form back to bones and ash. This is all just kind of base line stuff alterations to be understood if any of the lore i talk about is going to make a lick of sense.

Now we canonically know form Echoes the birth of Grima was featured there and thus linked to it the birth of Grima’s lineage in Grim Witches. As a side note i use witches as a gender neutral term vessels/witches can be of any gender. This entire lineage originates from a curse thrust upon Nyssa Lovicelle in Echoes times by her father and the alchemist responsible for nurturing Grima as well as the Risen. After having his child be the only one to not receive a blessing form Duma in a Rigelian ritual nobles often partake in at a major alter of Duma Lord Lovicelle sought other blessings and advantages for his daughter THROUGH said alchemist and thus her bloodline and very soul was irreversibly connected to the monstrous dragon. That is in essence the origin of all ‘Grim Vessel’/’Grim Witch’ lore as I have it written for my universe I keep my OCs in. So much so that for a time before her name was more and more lost to time they were not referred to in reference to Grima but instead as ‘Children of Nyssa’ as all bloodlines to ever experience the curse trace back to her.

It does not NECESSARILY skip generations, but rather, Nyssa had five children and her bloodline only expanded exponentially there, each generation there is an equal chance of the child of the last host or any new children from other lines of the family to inherit the curse as the next one marked by the beast. The only reason certain generations are ‘skipped’ is if the previous witch lives long enough that it winds up being their grandchildren who are the youngest. Grima links itself to the youngest freshest soul possible when determining it’s next hope in a constant hope to use THAT vessel for it’s return to life.

Even after death previous hosts are linked to the beast as long as it lives kept in a dusky purgatory sealed away with it connected to the new host. On some occasions the current living host has been known to access this realm in their dreams or through other more extreme means and communicate with those previously cursed the stronger their will in life the more likely they are to appear to the current host. Making Nyssa herself actually quite rare and often living hosts are lead to her by STRONGER spirits linked tot he dragon because she does not posses the will power to connect to them at her own, and she is kept closest to the beast in this twilight like space. She is of course, the original.

Each vessels has various levels of ‘access’ to Grima’s power while maintaining their free will, with Nyssa the first being the weakest and Wysteria being the strongest recorded in history by the time of her death. With everyone else, like Mariposa, falling somewhere in between.

Each witch’s mark connecting them to Grima appears in a different place Wysteria’s of course is in the classic avatar location of on her hand. Nyssa’s due to the original nature of the ritual that cursed her is located near her heart. Mariposa’s takes up much of the center of her back. There is no real rhyme or reason for this it simply is how it surfaces like the brand of the Exalt does.

Every witch of course can hear Grima’s voice to a level whether they communicate back, try to ignore it, or gain a level of being able to block it out varies from their own strength as well as how much strength Grima has mustered at that point in time. When it makes contact with a witch Grima’s pure goal is to corrupt and drag them closer to it so it can consume them, period. While emotional turmoil can give Grima slight advantage if the Vessel has decent control it’s unlikely it will spill out, simply be able to call louder. An exception to this being Nyssa who was extremely weak willed and frightened of the creature due to being both the first but, also her upbringing and personality. There have been others like Nyssa who were able to become partially possessed, it is a gruesome process but reversible if the vessel is brought to their senses in some way. Complete freedom from a vessel requires them to give in willingly in almost all cases.

[joemuggs]

Occupy the Dancefloor 2012

Been talking about politics in dance music a lot lately. Obviously the Bassiani protests in Tbilisi and Berlin have thrown it into relief, but there’s a lot of other vigorous discourse going on, both to do with the current age and in looking back 30 years to the “Summer of Love”. In thinking about it, I dug out this piece I wrote for Mixmag at the end of 2011, published in Jan 2012. I present it now without comment, except to say it’s pretty fascinating how much has changed in some ways and how little in others.

“The atmosphere was electric! I'd never felt such a concentrated positive energy before. People from every walk of life and background were united...”

It's the sort of quote you've probably seen in interviews with DJs a hundred times before, but this time we're not talking about the summer of '89 or any other hoary acid house reminiscence. This is Optimo's JD Twitch recounting his visit to the Occupy Wall Street encampment last summer.

2011 was a hell of a year by any standards, with conspiracies, scandals and crises at every turn. The Arab Spring and war in Libya, riots across the UK, Greece and Spain, Europe edging ever closer to economic collapse, the hackgate scandals, public services being cut to ribbons by a government of comically posh pantomime villains... it seemed sometimes we've had a decade's worth of news all in one go, and it shows no sign that things are going to calm down any time soon. Quite the opposite, in fact – by the time this issue hits the shops, we're fully ready for a couple of small nuclear wars to have broken out and the Euro to have been replaced as currency by peanut M&Ms.

But what's all this got to do with Mixmag? Ravers generally go their own merry way, right? Switch the news off, pull the curtains tighter to blank out the dawn, turn up the music and crack on – leave the politics to Bono? Well, yes and no. The Occupy movement, which sprung up in cities across the western world to demand accountability from institutions in response to the banking crisis that underpins much of the chaos in the world today, has not had much vocal support from the clubbing world – until more recently.

In December Massive Attack's 3D curated a show with Thom Yorke and Tim Goldsworthy (ex LCD Soundsystem), and has been putting up online a series of mix sets by the likes of Horsemeat disco, all in support of the Occupy movement. And a glance at occupymusicians.com shows a small but steadily increasing number of dance DJs and producers among the indie bands and experimentalists standing up and being counted. So is clubland developing a social conscience?

Maybe it's just that we're remembering that dance is not a bubble separated off from the world after all. Professor John Street, author of the new book Music and Politics, points out that “from the 1920s when US sheriffs would issue decrees about how couples could dance together, to rock'n'roll and the scandal of how teenagers reacted tot he music, and on through rave, the powers that be have been as exercised by the performance of dance in crowds as they ever have by the lyrics of songs.” That is to say, the simple self expression of dancing can be as much of a political act as any protest song, and indeed can have more effect.

Trance deity Paul Van Dyk, himself no stranger to political activity, is clear too that losing it on the dancefloor doesn't mean losing touch with wider realities; perhaps unsurprisingly for someone who grew up in oppressive Communist East Germany, he believes the freedoms we enjoy should be trumpeted from the rooftops. “People, artists, movements can be hedonistic and free spirited,” he says, “but also speak out and make a statement of the fact that this is a more tolerant and respectful group than many others in society.”

The author Tim Lawrence, who has closely studied the roots of modern dance culture going back to the start of the disco era, concurs. “I just don't accept that going out clubbing is self-absorbed,” he insists. “Sitting at home and looking in the mirror is self-absorbed. Going out with friends and engagement in a physical activity that only works if everyone participates and contributes is an act of socialising and community. If we stay at home and watch TV all the time we're saying one thing about the kind of society we want to be part of. If we go out dancing, we're saying another thing. Dancing is political.”

Matt Black of Ninja Tune founders Coldcut goes further, but sounds a note of caution. “Yes, people commune and collaborate through dance events,” he agrees, “and often they share an interest in making the world better, in social justice – but as with everything that gives people pleasure that culture is very easily hijacked by those who want to make a quick buck. Cocaine becomes involved, egos become involved, and very quickly you lose touch with the constructive spirit that was so inspiring in the first place.”

“But,” he continues, “that's maybe part of the natural cycle of things. The punk of today becomes the suit of tomorrow, the spirit of rebellion wears off somewhat. That's not necessarily a bad thing, though: I think there are probably a lot of people in ordinary jobs now who still carry the inspiration of acid house and rave with them, and when they see something like the Occupy movement, they think 'yes, that's something I understand and can get behind' because they know that feeling of being part of something bigger.”

It's not just old ravers carrying the inspiration of the past forward though. Many in the dubstep generation are aware of the power of dance music's communality, its deep roots, and the potential this has for social action. Loefah, as co-founder of Brixton's DMZ night is one of the most important figures in the growth of dubstep and all that's followed. His diverse Swamp 81 label is named after the police operation that sparked the original Brixton riots 30 years ago – but he stops short of making direct political statements, instead preferring to use the networks of art and music to deliver coded messages, not preaching but drawing people in and allowing them to make their own conclusions.

“When I was a teenager,” says Loefah, “pirate radio and white labels were everything, and as you got more and more into it, you began to understand the culture. Then when I went to the jungle raves, you'd become a part of this community, meeting the people you'd heard shout outs to on the radio, and you get something from it that's impossible to explain unless you're there but it's powerful and it's not controlled by any authorities. It might sound elitist, but it's not: anyone could be a part of it, but you have to make the effort to find out and understand it.”

Ben UFO, DJ and founder of the Hessle Audio label, is emphatic that the communities created in this way post jungle, garage, dubstep and grime are politically important. “Dance music in London especially,” he says, “has always provided a space for people from all sorts of different class backgrounds, different races, genders and identities to come together for a common purpose and communicate with each other - this is quite radical in itself, and I think it's easy to forget that. A good example of this is the multitude of conversations facilitated by music in the aftermath of the riots this summer, with my whole Twitter timeline dominated by the riots as they were happening and afterwards. Likewise a radio station like Rinse FM preserving and archiving a record of music made, presented and distributed by young, predominantly working class kids is a hugely significant thing in its own right.”

So club music IS political, even when it's not trying to be. But are we on the verge of it becoming more so, of ravers voicing resistance to entrenched power alongside the Occupy protesters? Don't count on it – after all, the instinct to close the curtains and chop out another line is still strong. US journalist, music business expert and Occupy LA campaigner Giovanna Trimble sadly points out that dance acts who may pay lip-service to anti-establishment views are slower when it comes to turning out for protests or organising benefits. “I have not seen any support from electronic dance music acts,” she says, “especially the ones who identify themselves as political beings.”

The opportunities are there, though. Trimble still holds out hope: “I feel that of all genres, EDM has the most space for activism as the demographic is far more open-minded and less 'corrupted' by corporations.” And veteran German house singer Billie Ray Martin sums up exactly why getting bodies out on the street is powerful just as “the mass feeling of possibility and power that the height of house in '88 and onwards” had produced for her. “We've lived in a time of virtual socialising,” she says, “and it's all very fake. it's easy to click 'like' on a post that says 'do you want to personally go out and change the world?' and then move on the latest video on there and not even ever think about why you clicked 'like'. I wish we would go out on the streets and shout it out – and that's where Occupy comes in. I hope it gains the kind of power it deserves. I'm there all the way. 'Like'!”

[thismysteriousrose-blog]

Stab My Heart; Take My Pain Away(Chapter 5)

Levi hated annoying people, that's for sure. Hanji was one of those people who fit the annoying type. He can't deny the littlest bit if amusement he felt towards the scientist.

After pulling the woman by her arm when she didn't listen, he dragged her to the parking lot. Nifa gave him an encouraging smile; the brunette's assistant looked at Hanji with worry.

Hanji didn't mind getting dragged by a man she just met either. In fact, there was something about the way he handled her. He wasn't as gentle as Moblit or too harsh like her father—she liked the way his calloused hands brushed against her skin. It was no big deal, too. She was just treating him to lunch and nothing more. After, they would just be back to being strangers again.

The rain had ceased outside. To her confusion, Levi hastily walked with her in tow. It seems like he didn't like the crowd. The women gawked at him as he passed and some even glared at her.

"Geez…"she muttered under her breath, too low for Levi to hear. "If they wanted closure, they should at least talk to this short stack."

Unknowlingly, she chuckled at the new nickname she made for him. Levi looked back, annoyed. Maybe Petra was right after all—the woman is crazy!

After reaching the parking lot and Levi's car, Hanji stopped laughing and grinned instead. "Nice car, shirt stack!"

"Tch." Levi unlocked his car door and slipped in. He unrolled the passenger seat's window ang glared at her. She, of course, wasn't fazed. "And what the hell do you know about cars, Shitty Glasses?!"

"None," Hanji admitted. "But judging from the shiny coat on this, it must have been new. Mine's been almost a year old and—"

"I get it already, Hanji."

"Ha-Hanji?" the scientist blinked, unsure what to respond. It was her first time hearing the shorter man speak her name.

"What's the matter, Shitty Glasses? Isn't that your name? If not then what is?"

"Ah?! Well…That's... kind of you," Hanji admitted. Butterflies dwelled inside her stomach and she didn't know why. To hell with the butterflies! She shouldn't be feeling these kind of things...

'He's just so... different,' Hanji thought. 'I like different…'

"Stop spacing out. You're still going to treat me to lunch because you insisted. Hurry and get in," Levi spoke.

Hanji jumped at the sound of his voice. For how long was she spacing out exactly?

She opened the car door and got in. For some weird reason, the number of butterflies increased. Hanji fidgeted nervously in her seat to which Levi noticed.

"Tch, " he murmured. "Tell me where the duck we're going. I'm starving, idiot."

Hanji looked at him and nodded silently. "You're right. Sorry for that—just remembering unpleasant memories from the past."

The words she spoke is half-true, too. She did remember how her father used to treat her after her mother died. All the scoldings and whatnot. Those were some of the unpleasant memories.

"I get them sometimes," Levi said. He didn't look back at her. He didn't have to. He knew that Hanji must be looking at him in pity.

Unbeknownst to him, Hanji smiled slightly. A blush tinted her pale cheeks—not that she noticed. She was glad she had someone who remembered unpleasant memories with. Weird as it may sound, Hanji wanted to ask him about it but she refrained herself. They were just strangers who happen to bump into each other on the way to work.

Come to think of it, what was his work? She never saw him in the neighbourhood she lived in. As an extrovert and a friendly person - Hanji decided to gain more friends - she went from house to house while totting a bag of cookies.

"Hey," she called out. "What is exactly is your—"

"Quit talking. Give me directions so we can leave."

"Yes, sir!" Hanji chuckled at her sudden outburst. "I'm sure you're familiar with the Leonhardts' gymnasium! Everybody knows where it's located! Beside the establishment is a small restaurant!"

Levi knew where the location was. Erwin took him there once but the sanitation is awful so he never went back there again.

Without giving Hanji anytime for another set of directions to be blurted out, the engine roared to life and the both of them sped up towards their destination.

"WOHOO!" cried the scientist as she spread her arms wide, momentarily blocking Levi's view if the road. Hanji's eyes sparkled in excitement. Setting aside the butterflies and weird vibes she was feeling from this guy—Hanji is happy. Way more than happy. She got a ride from a stranger she just met, she's going to have a delicious lunch in her favorite restaurant and voila! A happy September the tenth!

Levi tried to concentrate on his driving. He didn't want to get stuck in traffic nor did he want to get stuck in traffic WITH a mad scientist. That's outrageous! But there was still a flicker of amusement he felt towards her. Even if just a tiny bit. Too bad she is going to die by his hands.

For a second he checked her out and saw that she wasn't wearing a seatbelt. Maybe she wasn't going to die by his hands.

Fifteen minutes later, Hanji jumped off hear seat. Her smile didn't fade as she watched Levi with bright eyes who just unbuckled his seatbelt off. He took the keys from the ignition and opened the door to his side.

When Levi noticed she was staring, she asked, "What?"

Hanji shook her head and nervously laughed yet again. Her ponytail bounced as she skipped towards the restaurant. Levi rolled his eyes at her childishness. He couldn't believe a childish a person like her could qualify for a smart scientist that needs to be killed because of some reasons Erwin personally kept to himself.

The door chimes jingled as Hanji pushed open the door. Levi silently followed, wishing she didn't smile as much—people were beginning to look at them.

"Quit smiling, Four Eyes," he growled under his breath.

"Can't help it, Levi. You cant stop a person from smiling all day long!" she exclaimed, spreading her arms wide as she faced him with that grin of hers.

"And... Smiles are contagious," she added.

Levi scoffed and crossed both arms on his chest. "If that's true then why am I not smiling, stupid?"

She stepped closer towards him. Levi remained poker-faced. She noticed the rich and deep color of his eyes and immediately admired it. Once, when she was a child, she asked her father why she couldn't have her mother's eyes. To be honest, she didn't want to have the same eyes as her father because it reminds her that she's just a daughter of a corrupt politician.

"You'll see, " she said, moving away from him.

"If you insist," Levi replied. "If you make me smile today, I'll be the one to treat you to lunch sooner or later. But if you won't then you need to stop smiling."

Hanji thought about that for a moment and decided it's worth the risk. She hardly believed his threat—nobody can stop nobody from smiling after all.

Or so she thought.

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 16)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)

CHAPTER 15.1

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: A horny and insecure witcher decided to talk what his mind has been keeping; making you see how much of a man he was that was worth to choose and be chosen. 

Warnings: NSFW 18+. (Yep. Again. Love it while it lasts, bb’s. Hehehe.) Some witcher in a rut. Finger sucking. Cream pie. Smut. Size kink. (I meant Geralt’s body build. LMAO *I base this story on the show. Not the game or books.*) an irritated bard? Ahehehehe. Nakedness? Geralt being soft and honest? (*screams*)

A/N: I was drained from the last chapter and I’ve taken a break. I was supposed to not update today due to it. I hope you can lend at least a minute to reblog or give me feedback, ghost readers out there! 💟 There ain’t no moments like this anymore because the plot will take its place on the next chapters! ENJOY WHILE IT LASTS!

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue!

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi (GIF credits: littlechinesedoll)

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

GERALT OF RIVIA WAS IN A RUT.

You were sure he was after being fucked into oblivion by the witcher for countless of times already; taking a lot of orgasms in just about eight hours? He was lucky that he was a mutant. However, in your side? It was unfortunate because your stamina was weaker than his.

Your poor punani has been overworked and wrecked again. Lungs seem to be incapacitated, dangerously reaching the critical level for accepting Geralt's wishes; another round of ceaseless bliss in which you certainly didn't defy. Pants and wheezes were muddled against the mattress as you shoved your face on it, vigorously being burrowed from behind.

Here you thought; feeling mighty and confident that you could take and last for how long his enhanced self would.

Technically, you were wrong. Utterly wrong.

Was it round twenty-five already? Thirty? You may never know because every time Geralt finishes, his girth somehow magically becomes stone hard again like he never spilled himself inside you. If only he wasn't sterile, you were probably about to get pregnant with little witchers somehow based on how he always milks you in; like you were his pet, letting you take it good.

The white wolf's libido was overly developed as well. As you were told by the man, himself. He could go on for hours, days and even weeks, nailing you repeatedly until you have no energy to comprehend what was happening, and you were sure that his enhancement with the desires he had was a perk and also a disadvantage for your weak self who had her virginity taken just days ago.

Your sexual experiences are being expanded and learned by Geralt, not knowing before that you had a size kink of being choked in his own weight above yours, baptizing every nook and space in their home like animals in heat and being treated like you were such a fragile little thing before being corrupted; tainting your once chastised soul.

The witcher was a person who had given you a different outlook in life. Bringing you to a wonderland in the midst of being railed repeatedly; consistent with his rigorous, shameless pounding from the back. Brusque. Sharp. Perfect for the angle that hits the perfect spot, polishing your hole that has sent you ripples and waves of glory.

Geralt's moans were withdrawn, holding back those sounds of pleasure from ponderously watching his girth push and slither inside your heat. His mouth tightly shut and thick eyebrows scrunched in rapture. Aureate eyes intensely concentrated on his hard cock slowly drilling back, keeping his bulbous head in before slowly drawling back like he like watching you be filled with his girth; admiring how you were stretched around his hardened cock.

He'd felt your body intensely tremble beneath his.

Your knees were quivering with every plunge. Warm drizzles of your cunt leaking with a mixture of his fluid and yours together; like art combined with a color that creates a new one. The room smelled like sex and sweat with a scent of fresh grass because of how the windows were wide opened.

Nobody would see you both in such a debauched position, right? you've thought that when Geralt has lowered you down against the mattress, his weight crushing and pinning you down, quickly getting to his job; sticking his girth inside of you like he never would get tired of doing so after basically baptizing the hallway through the second floor.

Elbows began to feel sore. A desperate whine began to gurgle from your dry throat. Hand tightly grabbing onto one of his that laid on the curvatures of your hips, dragging you back to his swollen girth with every shove; filling you over and over like how you deserved because you've been a good girl. Every time he did, Geralt never misses the spot that could bring you into another restless, writhing orgasm.

The filthy sound of skin slapping on skin came with icherous slimy caresses of your nectar coating each other's carnal greed. Noise came with his bedpost hitting the wall like a maddened gorilla raging out of its cage, when all of a sudden; you've heard Kolby's strange bark that seem to come from the first floor, alarming you both that his family has already came back. Yet, here you were, splayed below the witcher and still getting driven to his extremes.

Geralt pulled his hand away from the bed post, leaving a print and a crack of his hand against the wood. His fingers slid through your dangling breasts, palms groping your teat as he began to knead onto it like a cat trying to suckle from his mother; claws out as he tweaked your sensitive nipple in one breast to the other. Simultaneously changing hands as he continued to reach you both to the edge of Nirvana.

Then, you've heard laughter and complaining downstairs.

"Geralt," you started with a mewl, your body being rocked from behind, the sheets thoroughly disheveled from your tiring day activities. His hand that fondled your teat trailed up your body; while the other glided down for what throbbing nub that was needed attention for another release.

His palm gently met your mouth when you've began to moan from his fingers touching your clit, rubbing and circling it the right, pleasuring way while he went on with his ceaseless ramming.

"Hnnng," you whimpered, voice muffled from his large, calloused hand that covered your mouth; hushing you from any noise that could echo out of the room.

The way he was manhandling you does it. From the moment he tried shushing you up, your heat began to clench around him. Your body squirming and thrashing under his skin. Weakened from the sudden action as it made you tremble; feeling the coil beginning to snap with just a few more jabs.

More thuds and unfathomable complaints echoed outside the room. With Jaskier finally knowing what caused the commotion that he somehow managed to be in. Geralt didn't seem to be bothered about the fact that their table has been wrecked; though, the bard might say otherwise.

His plowing slackened when you’ve felt him breath heavily from behind, 

"Shhhh. Quiet down, midget." he clasped his palms tighter on your mewling mouth; hearing his breathless grunts above you was making you squirm in his hold. It didn't take you another lewd moan when Geralt's thick index and middle finger skid in between the pillows of your lips, an act of pacifying your noise down which has gotten an elicit of your juices flowing down your thighs, soaking you more than ever. But, you never did deliberate to suck on those fingers like how your mind has told you.

The smutty action was enough for him to briefly glance down at you, engrossed and captivated by a never expected bustles from his naive, greenhorn of a woman. 

Another weakened moan was muffled beneath the palm that clasped your mouth. Your fingers trying to wrench his own away from slightly pinching on your sensitive clit, dragging you to where you wanted.

Neverland. Nirvana. Heaven. Where ever you could experience bliss.

Or basically Geralt's bed because you were currently being brought to the edge of the rainbows.

He was persistent and continued rubbing on your nub, his thick, long fingers thoroughly drenched from your arousal. 

"Ugh---Hmm. fuck." the white haired witcher deeply grunted and moaned, his jutting hips bottoming out as he continued his desperate, urgent drives. Thrusts turning reckless. Panting breaths like dogs in heat; embracing every bit of his urgency to reach the floating clouds.

Your real name has slipped out of his tongue, sounding so lewd which has taken you over the edge. Knees began to shake as the high took over. Muscles clenching and also your cunt tightly choking his girth to spill his seed, urging him to thoroughly coat your insides. Another loud breathless grunt left his ajar lips; the sweat dripping down his temples as it also drenched his chest from all the activities. His heartbeat was running miles after miles, chasing to catch yours.

"G-Geralt, Geralt, Geralt!" you've salaciously cried out with every sloppy thrusts in the midst of having a muscle spasm; choking in the blast of euphoria when he'd took his hand off your mouth, grabbing onto yours which has been holding onto the headboards for dear life. Hence, as the witcher pulled your hand away; he'd done the unexpected.

Geralt of Rivia has sweetly peppered the back of your hands with honeyed kisses to soothe your convulsion; treating you like he wasn't fucking you to oblivion nor corrupting you from behind.

You've heard his breath hitch. The way he'd dropped his large hand on the mattress over your small ones, gripping onto it hard; you knew he came. He'd panted heavily above you, the new position being surrounded by his gigantic warmth. Your juices soaking your inner thighs as his load shot inside you. All warm and cozy; giving you a fuzzy feeling inside your chest that you couldn't explain.

He never pulled out until he was finished. You were so full of him, his seed dripping out of your cunt when his semi-flaccid cock dragged out of your overused pussy, telling him how he’d filled you more than he planned to. Your knees eventually buckled and lost its will to be useful for you; your face down on the pillow, running short of breath as you planted over the tousled sheets.

Geralt laid on the bed beside you, his large body built turned to you with an arm tucked below his head. Basking in all his glory and sweat with amber eyes solely worried for your weary form. You sounded like you were wheezing as he hovered over to pull the blankets over your waist, shielding you over the cold, crisp wind of the afternoon dew. Your whole body coated in the satiny sliver of your sweat combined with his and the witcher couldn't help but take in the view that he longed to be habituated once again before you came along.

Did he...actually break you while being drilled? he silently thought at the back of his tousled, half tied chalky white hair.

"Midget?" He softly muttered, using an elbow to peer down before you. Aureate eyes lingering a little bit longer. His fingers extending to graze along the line of sweat that covered your spine before reconsidering, hands ought to brush your disheveled hair away from your face, taking his time as he glided his fingers down through the side of your face.

He doted on the spent image of your sprawled body in the middle of his bed. Your heart turning more warmer than it ever could when you've felt him watching you over, the blankets glazing atop of your skin as you've closed your eyes, trying to steady back your breathing.

"I'm...fine. Just...spent. Let me...breathe," you breathlessly whispered.

"Hmm."

His faint, vibrating hum slowly calmed the fluttering butterflies flapping their wings inside your stomach. He earnestly cast his eyes over you. The thick pad of his fingers tracing along the hairs of your arm; giving you a shiver, padding down till the tips of yours before strikingly filling in the gaps of your fingers with his. Such a simple action making your heart feel snug with a hint of palpitation from the sudden, unusual gesture from the white wolf.

Well, he was certainly learning.

You've taken a peek from under the flat fuzz of your pillows; seeing amiable, tired, tender eyes. Rough, large palms delicately scraping through your soft ones, entwined amongst the unkempt silk of sheets from the result of your passionate tupping.

With your eyes still shut, a jaded admission was sent to the latter; assuming things from your negative state of mind. This always happens in the movies, right? the small voice in the back of your mind stated. After all the blissful moments, complication and problems tries to hinder over the blithe that wanted you to believe that this was a much of a miracle to happen.

It was subtly telling you that your presence in their world had a time limit because you didn't belong to their world in the first place. Salt came pinching down your heart at the sudden realization of that; getting a gist of feeling by choosing to live in their world forever, there were instances that would get you coming back from your dimension. Every felicitious moment feeling like it was all temporary and a fleeting scene in your mind.

The idea struck like a lightning. You didn't belong to their world; nor do you fit in.

Such a change of heart that you wanted to scurry home since the first day you've arrived; thinking that everything was just a dream or a nightmare that couldn't wake you up. But, in this exact moment; you felt like not wanting to go home.

"Why do I feel like you wouldn't come back after your hunt?" you weakly muttered; brushing off the infectious thought that could bring the felicity down; pulling yourself closer to him. You've tossed the bad shadows trying to lure you in as you've focused on the golden light that Geralt could let you see through. His warm breath fanned your face as you heavily sighed out the worry crippling out of your chest.

"You're overthinking." he deeply rasped, hearing him breath steady; sounding like his declaration had a double meaning. His thumbs brushed over your knuckles as he continued to reassure your troubled self, "---I never leave nor would I plan to. My family is my home,"

Geralt collected his thoughts, breaking through the spell you've always had to cast him in. Only your exquisite scent being the fire to thaw his walls down. It took him seconds before bluntly saying his next words, making you flutter your eyes open to see him softly smiling back at you. His tone warm, comforting and nesh for your sensitive, soft heart soul.

"---you are also my home. I'll always come back to you---always will find you,"

Those words that he stunningly said made your heart skip a beat. The cicatrix glowing beneath the sheets without you knowing, ecstatic of what has come out from his lips as a burst of bliss spread right through your chest.

You've felt the adrenaline rush from his sudden admission and change of aura; abruptly making you nail your elbows on the table, repeatedly blinking back at the witcher when you've felt the balmy cloud of warmth spread around your eyes; close enough for you to cry and you languidly leaned down to his very peaceful face to softly give him a kiss on the lips in which he gladly reciprocated.

No. This wasn't sweet nothings where he tries to win over your heart. His words was a declaration of breaking those walls down for you. It was a key for you to come hopping in, an invitation of seeing the real him; his vulnerable side that nobody ever sees.

Hence, this was the first time you've had someone showing you what it felt to be important, needed and cared for. A person with real intentions. Sensations which you never knew it existed or believed that you would ever get to experience such.

Nevertheless, it took you a trip to another dimension just to have it.

Your mouth left his with a euphonious twang. There was no rush to the kiss or any type of greed. Just a succulent sharing of what you wanted him to feel from your quiet response of what he said. It needed no words of approval or even a shedding of your tears; erasing the worries away if you started bawling your eyes out from his secrets that he whispered. His thick brows furrowed in a questionable expression, intently eyeing your dewy peepers staring back at him. Utterly fond. The witcher feeling as if there was profound affection deep within your eyes as you tried to shield them over with that twinkling gaze of yours.

He knew what he was seeing or feeling from you. But, he chose to ignore as of the moment.

"Jaskier's fond of you," he abruptly admitted, downright apathetic; his gravel tone expressing a mixture of interest and a little bit of doubt, not for you but for himself.

That simple display of what you've visibly felt made your heart soften a lot more than it ever could. Finding it hard to believe that this person slash mutant in front of you also had his own issues, sounding diffident with just conferring about this surprising fact he noticed from his friend who seemed to be catching feelings for you that certainly was quite difficult to believe.

You were biting the tips of your tongue from saying anything further more, pulling back from driving too fast that maybe Geralt was falling behind.

"Jaskier? Your Jaskier? The bard who always tries to ruin my day? you’re hallucinating, Geralt." you wanted to snort from his accusation.

Geralt has given you a dirty look, appearing to look like he has issues with you that he didn't want to expand as he kept his silence and continued to send a grimace. Was he hallucinating? Were he hallucinating when he'd read those words upon your lips hours ago? Was your endearment just a slip of your tongue? A simple caught up in the heat of the moment?

Was he also just hallucinating when you’ve called him ‘love’?

"Am I, really?" the witcher stated flat, sending a displeased hum as he subtly played with the softness of your fingers clutched to his bigger ones.

Your eyes turned wide from his deadpan, "What did I do? That banter sounded sarcastic, kitty!"

The latter slowly blinked, dragging a sigh as his baritone timbre turned stern and also meek no matter how hard he tried to cover it up from the roughness that he wanted it to sound like, you could read between the lines and sure enough, he was self-effacing from his friend who was also fond of you.

"Do...you like the bard?" he hesitatingly trailed off. The question ending with a pause as it sounded completely unforthright. You've given him a tender beam; child like and masking with nothing but innocence, affection and understanding, "Go on. I'm listening. Tell me what's on your mind," you started, seeing his tight lipped mouth shut. Those amber eyes briefly looking away from you,

"---Come on, please? Let me understand and see through the good heart that I've always believed in,"

Geralt gave it a moment. Exactly a minute as you've accepted the tranquil silence with him. Such silence that you have never imagined to be so comforting because back in your apartment, the stillness was eerie and cold; imagining hands trying to take your soul away from surviving a life by working in another country where you had no one but you.

"You're...significant to me." his glowing amber eyes turned heartfelt, shooting warmth through your skin and chest, "---you are a lot to handle. An unorthodox in my dimension. Yet, despite that, you're the havoc I didn't know I needed,"

"You're calling me chaotic. How sweet of you," you deadpanned, snorting from his metaphors that got you successfully rolling your eyes back at him.

"Your existence brought me sheer confusion about you. But, I'd rather have that befuddlement than to not be with you,"

Destiny brought you to him. Those assumptions he'd taken into consideration was now taken into account. Thus, destiny just needed this to not fuck it up. It shouldn't because he much rather not imagine how it would happen nor how he would be able to accept such fate laid before him. 

"Jaskier's...a friend---he's important to me," he continued, feeling your other hand fall onto the side of his face; soft fingers tracing along the scar on his forehead and cheekbones with that glimmer in your eyes that make him want to give you another kiss; readable in your peepers was the acceptance he never knew he needed so badly, "---No matter how annoying he is. He's still my companion. A real...friend. I've seen how comfortable you are with him, saw how compatible you were with the bard,"

You've stopped brushing your fingers along his marks. Your free hand sluggishly propping below your chin as you've peered down. A small grin curling your lips, "When have you been a love guru? Does this version of you come up with a graphic chart that tells how many percentages do I seem to be compatible with Jaskier?"

He kept silent, staring straight into your eyes with a lukewarm expression; not understanding your references.

You've given him a faint raise of your brow, skeptically looking at him with an amused flicker of your peepers, "You've seen us that night. Explains why Jaskier was ranting about the door you've broken,"

Geralt kept his mouth tightly shut, shortly looking away before giving you a pensive response, "I've already fixed it---and you know it was not just about that,"

Pulling your closed fist under your chin, you've tilted your head to the side. Pleased by his tamed reaction as you've leaned closer to his face, adoring Geralt's sublime features that never fails to charm you everyday. His charisma totally knocking your wits out as you could finally see more of his true self.

You started, your words smoothly dancing per word; sounding utmost sincere and in wonder, "People in your world say witchers don't feel emotions," even being disregarded like they weren't humans, you silently added much more to yourself when you paused to talk, "---Well, my witcher is exactly the opposite because you're full of it even though you sound unenthusiastic all the time---comes with the mutations, I guess?"

The soft look in his eyes warmed your soul. Attentive of the stars that seem to float inside those amber pair; looking like he'd caught them for you. He stayed silent, never breaking his gaze away from you nor planning to move away from your body close to his.

"Do you want me to be with the bard?" your question caught him off guard, keenly reading through what your eyes wanted to say. The query sounding like it was just a quip.

"Will that make you happy?"

Geralt warily asked, completely earnest of what he said that made you bite the inner plump of your lips. There was a long amount of silence, contemplating what made him think that way, even considering the idea of never getting in the way when you'll choose another person than him. Was he even real?

Your smile fell a little at the question, swiftly unwrapping your hands entwined with his which ignited a tight frown from the witcher when he miscalculated the sudden gesture. But, those dreadful thoughts ceased when you've poked his muscular chest, the part where his heart loudly beat beneath the pad of your index finger.

"Will that make...YOU happy?" you slowly emphasized and returned the question, intently gazing above him. When he never answered and stayed quiet, it was the right time to say words that couldn't be kept to yourself. You've forgotten to bite your tongue from saying anything further less.

"---But, YOU make me happy, Geralt of Rivia. Isn't that enough reason to choose you?"

Keen golden eyes deeply gazed into yours, as genuine than it has ever been before; sucking you in and having no chance to escape from the resplendent color of his hues. Geralt moved beneath to help himself by using his elbow, his sudden elevation making you tilt your head back to see him deeply staring, mouth turning into a tight straight line as he rasped.

"Even if it takes for your life back in your world to be taken away from you---fuck." he abruptly stopped in the middle of his sentence, briskly taking a glimpse of the door behind you when he could hear stealthy padded footsteps hiking up the stairs. 

Jaskier.

Geralt sharply sat his back on the headboard. His silvery, unkempt half-tied hair moving as he does so, the white sheets pooling just below his torso. He looked bedraggled and utterly sweaty which made it feel so fulfilling to have him in your presence looking like that. A miraculous snack. You could never have this opportunity back in earth.

You bit your lips from keeping yourself from grinning, curiously eyeing him as you mused. He deliberately scanned your exposed back, "What? What's happening?"

The latter took no questions and quickly pulled the covers over your shoulders as you laid on your front, slightly elevated with the help of your arms tucked under. He loudly sighed, sitting back on the wooden board. Recognizable footfall thumping louder and closer before a wind up bard barged in the room without knocking or announcing his presence.

"You two!" Jaskier exclaimed, ceasing midway in the middle of the room; looking lost and piqued. His pretty face morphed into a tight frown to find you and Geralt utterly rumpled under the sheets. You tossed a look over your shoulder to see the bard straight up crashing inside like there has been no lock or whatsoever.

Geralt motioned with his hands, palms on either side to show how taken aback he was from his friend who came trudging in like he owned the place. His face hinting with displeasure. Wordlessly gesturing towards the bard with a 'What the fuck?' face.

You skeptically hushed whispers beside the witcher, timidly pulling the covers over your wild head, looking stunned as you exclaimed, "I thought you locked the room? I told you to lock it!---What if it was Cirilla?!---Don't you know what a lock is, Geralt?!"

Despite of your panicking and embarrassed state, he was entirely the opposite as he sounded lackadaisical, going on by glaring at the bard who has his face scrunched in utmost displeasure, "I didn't expect them to arrive home this early." the witcher rolled his eyes from his galled self and sent a scowl towards the bard.

Jaskier raised his brow in disbelief, "Early? We've been gone for 8 hours, Geralt!"

"Well, I thought you'll be gone for at least a day and not barge in our room after we had a 'moment', Bard. A knock would’ve suffice."

Another set of padded footsteps, this time it sounded like this person was merrily hopping through the hallway. Until a ball of Ashen hair peeked through the opened doorway with a short Hirikka standing in the middle of the threshold.

"I'm here---woah!" Cirilla seemed to be knocked out of her boots when she saw you emerging from under the covers, bashfully covering your chest with the sheets, looking mortified by everyone seeing you in that kind of state. You were glaring at the witcher who tossed your off the side for a while as he dealt with his scandalous and crazy family.

"---I knew it!" the princess of Cintra loudly clapped and jumped on her feet. Her excitement immediately dying down when she noticed that you both weren't actually clothed beneath the white blankets. She firmly crossed her arms, her nose scrunching in disgust, "---Also, gross! Please do lock the doors next time!"

She whistled at the flabbergasted Hirikka who was sniffing the whole room in bewilderment; stout stopping before the bard as he sniffed him loudly enough for Jaskier to wave his face off away from his face. Cirilla whistled another, catching the beast's attention and making Geralt wince due to his heightened hearing, "Kolby, let's go! I'm giving you a nice warm bath!" before she shut the door closed behind them when he'd run off towards the princess.

Geralt and Jasker were giving each other stern glares; seeming to be in a challenge where one shouldn't back down despite of how mean it appeared to be like.

Jaskier was the first to talk, beginning his interrogation, "Who ruined the dining table?"

You swallowed the butterflies wanting to fly out of your throat, lifting a shaky finger to point at the witcher who was still as he sat on his side of the bed, "I’m definitely not the person who has superpowers here---It's him," but, Geralt seemed to answer in the same time with you.

"No one."

Jaskier didn't seem to want and take everyone's bullshit as he crossed his arms in front of you both. Geralt's clothes on one hand and yours in the other that made a blush go straight up your whole face, burning the dignity that was left. You wanted to yell from how irresponsible you were for leaving your clothes all around the house when you promised yourself that it'll be fixed after your activity.

You didn't expect Geralt to take eight hours---or you did?----and actually forgot what was needed to remember.

"Oh, no one, Geralt? I suppose this shirt is also owned by no one, considering how unclad you are right now? Hmm. Would this tunic come from the Hirikka then?" the toubadour raised his hand where Geralt's black under tunic has been balled up.

Jaskier dramatically puffed out a sigh, sounding like it was the end of the world for what has welcomed them when they came back from their weekly visit for Cuthbert. He held forth about your sudden shenanigans around the house like a father delivering a tirade.

"We leave for eight hours and this is what you both welcomed us in," pause. "---A broken bloody table where we dine!" Another pause as he threw Geralt's clothes at his face in which he caught it perfectly, "---your clothes everywhere in the house like snakes who shed their skins anywhere they go!"

Lastly, his foot fidgeted on the wooden floors, tapping in anxiety as he remembered that tiny scratch he had seen on his beloved musical instrument, entirely galled from the wound it received like it was his baby.

"---and also my lute---my beloved lute falling on the floors! You've hurt her!"

"We didn't touch your lute," Geralt's response was tepid, lazily blinking back at the enraged bard who stood in the middle of the room.

Jaskier's raised his hands to his hips, raising a finger and opening his mouth, expression wild and ready to send another harangue before back paddling inside his train of thoughts.

He briefly shut his mouth, tilting his head to the side as he wondered out loud, "Oh, maybe the air pushed it to fall. I remembered how I left the windows opened too. However---!"

Geralt cut his verbal onslaught, his gaze narrowing at Jaskier who also didn't back down at sending a nasty lour at the entertained witcher.

"I'll fix whatever is needed to fix, bard. Stop your whining," you've felt the bed squeak and bounce. Geralt slipped his legs out of the sheets, feet plopping down the floors as he heavily sighed. It needed power; manpower for Jaskier to leave the room and Geralt knew he wouldn't leave until he pushes him out of the threshold.

The witcher stood tall and firm, completely au naturel from head to foot like how he have been when he was a baby, stark naked without being moved by the idea that Jaskier was in the same room as you. His bare ass never shaking him off and so does the bard.

"Leave. Out of my chambers, Jaskier."

Geralt sauntered to where he is. Your eyebrows raising in amusement as you've marveled over the witcher in the nude. His beautiful, rugged bare back on show with that A+ rating of his derriere in which you freely tried to memorize inside your head.

Though, you couldn't help but take a glimpse of Jaskier who seemed unfazed by this whole nakedness he was seeing; like he was familiar of the whole thing and the white wolf's dangly bits hanging and it has peaked your curiosity.

Do they bathe together then?

The bard has seen your amused smile with a skeptical brow raised to what you were witnessing. Thus, he peeked around Geralt to acknowledge your curiosity; pointing at you with a roguish grin, "That face tells that you have been swimming deep inside the vast depths of the sea, wondering why I am not bothered by the witcher's nudity---"

"Jaskier," Geralt sent a tired warning and held his slim shoulders, forcefully turning him around as he pushed him forward, towards the door.

"---It's because I have rubbed chamomile onto his lovely bottom before! It was true! I never lied! It was a part of the rules in becoming the rightful travel companion until you came along and began rubbing it for himself! Though, I doubt you did it to join our adventures!---"

You couldn't help but stifle your tee-hee from his admission. Finding their friendship amazing to the point that he does it for Geralt; receiving nothing but his altruism and adventures that the witcher has shared together with him.

Geralt loudly closed the door behind Jaskier; his mouth running on and on about how such a change of habits it has been when you came in their life. He'd knock a lot of times, calling out for the both of you and trying to want and barge in your moment but your white wolf finally knew what a lock is and slid the wooden block over the hook to lock his chambers.

"He seriously rubs chamomile on your butt?"

The skyclad man turned on his heel, raising a skeptical brow as you tried to focus hard on his face and not his body that stood before you.

"I guess that silence means yes, then. Oof, such bromance! Don't you think I'm the one who's actually becoming a hindrance between your platonic relationship with your bard?"

"Ridiculous." He took several steps closer, making you turn your head from becoming too flustered over his glorious, scarred body that he certainly isn't afraid or diffident about his imperfections anymore after you've treated them like it was a part of him that you will always accept. Geralt sat on your side, reaching over the bedside table to look beneath the drawers.

The latter placed a small, transparent bottle on your hand. A clear yellowish tone of liquid inside as you stared at it, thoroughly intrigued, "What's this? Is it another one of your witcher potions?"

Geralt hummed in negation, lifting his calloused hand to take your chin in between his fingers, turning your head to look at his ardent, shining amber, "Eucalyptus Oil. Took it from Cirilla's chambers. For you---For later. Perhaps, our recent activities had you feeling utterly spent,"

You've blinked, taken aback from his plans for whatever it is he wanted. Though, it didn't take you to put two on two together to know where his plans would take you, "Why are you---Oh. I know. I definitely know what you want." pause. "---you are insatiable, Geralt."

Geralt gently nudged your chin, tilting it up to his advantage as he leaned down to press a soft buss to your lips. Once again, he'd took your breath away by how tender he was handling you. The mere opposite of what people see and expected from because they never had the chance to walk through him; they didn’t have the courage to know who he really was.

His thumb that rested upon your chin were easily replaced with his lips, kissing you on the spot before gliding the dimples of his nose to yours, subtly giving you an Eskimo kiss.

"My overly developed lechery certainly comes from the mutation,"

Geralt's mouth lifted into a small, unusual beam, fluttering his eyes closed as he concentrated on you and that specific comfort he found. Questions came hitting him like stones, breaking the mirthful bubble that he was brought in.

He didn't want you to go home anymore because he'd found home in you.

But, what if fate had move mountains and threw his happiness away again? Leaving him no choice but to watch you go?

Taglist for WOTN: (Strikethrough means I can’t tag you, bb’s! 💖) @alyxkbrl​​ @himarisolace​​ @barkingbullfrog​​ @ayamenimthiriel​​ @hellodevilslittlesister​​ @vania-marie​​ @spookypeachx​ @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us​​ @nympeth​​ @amirahiddleston​​ @gabethelobster​​ @dreaming-about-starfleet​​ @uncoolcloudyhead​​ @melaninstylezz​​ @psychosupernatural​​ @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer​​ @marvelousell​​ @kingniazx​​ @angelias134​​ @tapismyforte​​ @chook007​​ @covid-donotenter​​ @winter-moons​ @cheesecakeisapie​ @silverkitten547​​ @angelofthor​​ @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum​, @stuckupstucky​, @shesthelastjedi​, @a--1--1--3​, @gutfucks​​,

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza​

General taglist for Henry: @agniavateira​​, @iloveyouyen​​, @rahdaleigh​​,