#my world's on fire how bout yours

[elkatt-art]

gift for @velocibirb !

[trainingdummyrabbit]

gooooood morning! every day is another prayer that they Put The Site Back To Normal ! ^w^

[silverskye13]

So for the sake of transparency for various projects, I've had a lot of stuff come up and don't know when my time will be mine again. I'm gonna keep picking away at things but, yeah.

[yourauntitali]

Theory: one of the reasons neurodivergent people are generally good in a crisis is *because* we have no working memory. We’re used to operating on best case probabilities in a moment to moment crisis. That’s just *tuesday*

[i-anonymous-crow]

Oh yeah, I went for a walk today and saw this.

[normalsexhaver]

gotta love working in tech

“learn how to code” they said. so i did.

and now i get to watch all my friends get laid off day after day, while i sit and wait for my turn with massive amounts of survivor’s guilt

[grimesgirll]

the first thing rick wakes up to is you telling him you want to be double stuffed.

he’s just opening his eyes and you’re straddling him, whispering, “now is the perfect time. we never have this much alone time,” into his ear as you work your mouth up and down his neck.

his dick is already twitching in his boxers at the sight of you, all needy on top of him. your hair is down and disheveled from sleep and your activities just a few hours before.

and who can stay soft when you’re begging to be double stuffed first thing in the morning.

“sweetheart, are you sure you know what you’re talkin’ bout?”

you shake your head yes at him. “yes, i want you and daryl to double stuff my pussy.”

rick wonders if this is a stepping stone to them fucking your ass.

“you sure you want this, baby?” he asks, looking to you. you liked it rough but both of their cocks in your tiny pussy was a lot to figure out.

“mhmm.” you confirm. “i know it’s gonna feel so good - the stretch.”

you must be fucked out from the night before still to want them both inside of you this early.

“well, let’s ask daryl,” rick tells you and you lean over slightly off of rick to tap on daryl’s chest lightly. you even bestow him with a kiss as his eyes flutter open.

“hey, sleeping beauty,” you greet softly, watching as his blue eyes blink open. “wanna double stuff my pussy with rick before everyone wakes up?”

it’s like you can feel his cock shooting through his pants when all of the sudden you’re on your back next to rick and daryl is prying your pajama shorts off. “of course, i wanna double stuff this pussy,” daryl moans as he nearly rips off your panties. “gotta get you ready for two cocks first.”

“yeah i’m kinda worried about you fitting,” you turn to rick on the pillow beside you.

“don’t worry, we’ll make it fit,” rick promises. he takes your chin in his hand and brings your lips together, slipping his tongue into your mouth while daryl dips a finger into your heat. your legs buck at the intrusion and even more when daryl works another finger into you.

“baby, if you’re squirmin’ on my fingers like this right now, i can’t imagine how you’re gonna feel on top of both ‘a us.”

you pout at his words. “don’t make me change my mind.”

“just sayin’.”

rick rolls his eyes, before looking down to your glistening cunt. you follow his gaze before getting an idea. “daryl,” you chirp.

“yeah,” he doesn’t stop his fingers or break eye contact as you open your mouth to speak.

“i wanna give you a blowjob while rick eats me out. is that okay?”

rick huffs. daryl isn’t usually the one you ask for permission.

he doesn’t say no of course and suddenly he and rick are swapping places so the ex-cop can spread your legs open and plant a finger inside of you. your mouth opens almost as if on cue for daryl as rick’s tongue makes contact with your lower lips.

meanwhile, daryl’s cock breaches your lips. you open your mouth wider in an “o” shape, reacting to how rick’s fingers curl inside of you. he picks up the pace as you moan around daryl, slowly working more of his length into your mouth. he hisses at the feeling of his cock being surrounded by your warm, willing mouth. this encourages you to start bobbing your head up and down faster, making sure to punctuate every satisfying twist of rick’s sturdy fingers inside of you with a moan around the archer’s length.

daryl almost cums down your throat at the sight of you looking up at him. doe eyed and aching to be double stuffed, you had one thing on your mind - or two, to be precise.

he’s still surprised that you were the one to bring up them both filling your pussy. being stuffed with one of their cocks in your mouth and one inside of you was exciting enough to get you grinding on their laps. this would rock your world.

rick is already eliciting all kinds of scandalous noises from you as he dives nose deep into your soaked pussy. just the idea of being completely full of rick and daryl set a fire in your core. a fire that rick tries to put out with his tongue, even holding your legs down as you start to buck up into his face, barely keeping in position with daryl nearly down your throat now.

you know you’re a goner when the sheriff reaches forward to clutch at your breast while sucking down on your most sensitive bundle of nerves. you wince like you stubbed your toe but in fact you’re barely holding your (first) orgasm from breaking through.

“rick,” the sound comes out garbled around daryl’s dick.

“gotta’ get ya’ nice and ready, sweetheart.” with that, his tongue drags torturously across your clit.

you’re almost pulling off of daryl with how rick is lapping up your pussy. you loved both of their mouths on you but there’s something about rick and how smug he is between your legs that has you humming again, the sound vibrating around your boyfriend’s dick and sending those familiar pleasure signals to the brain. you don’t complain as he tugs your head further into him; a quick gag stops you in your tracks for a moment before you relax your throat again and swallow.

feeling daryl grow painfully hard in your mouth, you let his glossy cock fall out of your mouth and take a moment just to enjoy the man between your legs. he understands and is happy to give you a moment to breathe before they stretch you to the limit. he tucks a strand of hair from your blushed out face. pale lips find your breasts again and a tongue swirls around your areola, helping to scoop your hardened bud into a warm mouth.

with both of your boys on you, mouths repaying you for every kiss, every time they stuck a tongue or a cock your throat, you can't help but come undone on rick's lips. your leader is more than ready to lick you clean, flattening his tongue against you.

rick's chocolate curls are in your hands when he starts on your poor, pulsing pussy again. without a break to collect your thoughts between orgasms - not that you had many aside from coming undone with both of them inside you - you whine into daryl's shoulder. "its so much." you pant into the man beside you, "so sensitive, daryl."

"already?" rick questions, lips covered from when you came on his face.

you nod, and mewl into daryl when he bites down on a tit.

"how're you gonna handle two, honey?" rick is eager to know your plan.

"how do you want me to handle it?" you challenge through labored breaths as they both work you towards an overload again.

rick chuckles. he speeds up enough for you to start bucking into him again, gripping the back of your head. daryl helps him out when his teeth travel up your neck to bite at your pulse. you yelp and drops you arms, giving rick the opportunity to pin them down, handsfree and filling every corner of his mouth with you.

you groan and gasp in his arms, nowhere to run from the inevitable waves that wash over you as your orgasm hits you like tidal force. "rick!" you're squealing so loud that daryl leans over to shut you up with an open mouthed kiss. you take it; kissing back with a passion while you rock your hips into rick's mouth.

the older man comes up for air after he's made sure your pussy's thoroughly saturated, and already needy again; this time for both of them.

blissfully unaware, you're barely comprehending the looks rick and daryl are giving each other. articulate plans made from a shared gaze at you, a grunt, and some words from rick have the man sitting up next to you steal a kiss from you too and ask, “think you’re ready, honey?”

you grin at him. rick's thumbing your lip while he studies your face until you nod your head an enthusiastic yes still trying to catch your breath. he watches as your chest heaves, leaving kisses and bruising hot marks on your torso while the bed squeaks with daryl's absence.

rick lays back on the bed, patting your lap for you to straddle him. he pulls you down onto him by your hips, easy work after he and daryl put in the time to prep you for them. you're always dripping but this morning, rick thinks this is the wettest you've ever been and they haven't even given you what you asked for yet.

daryl palms his hard on at the edge of the bed. "think y'all are gonna wanna be as close together as possible for this," he advises.

"bend down more, sweetheart," rick instructs and you do so, folding into him until your chests were plush together. "good girl," he punctuates with a kiss on your neck.

behind you, you feel the bed dip slightly. you tense but relax when rick's mouth finds your shoulder, distracting you with pecks as daryl bullies a finger into your already crammed hole. rick pauses his ministrations to clench his jaw. you wiggle slightly, earning a noise or two from rick.

"you like this?" daryl's voice breaks you out of the tension started to build in your core again.

you nod your head, almost too enthusiastically. "want more!" you request with a grind of your hips.

daryl chuckles. "it's coming," he adds another finger.

"fuck, daryl," rick huffs, face glistening with sweat and a rose color started to creep into his cheeks.

"daryl, wanna feel you," you agree with rick and rotate your hips again until both of them are sighing.

rick's muscles are tensing under you and he's bucking into you when you feel daryl's lips on your neck for the first time in a few minutes. "so, tight." he mumbles in your ear.

he's so close that you arch into his touch until he's ushering you back down with a palm against your back. "don't wanna us all to slip out, baby," he tells you and that's when you realize that he's replaced his fingers with his cock.

“i think you can move more now.” you tell daryl as your breath picks up.

he takes the opportunity to heed your words, beginning a slow, pounding pace. "you want me to go faster already?"

"i wanna come on both of your cocks," you clarify, core starting to turn to molten lava as you wanted to be even more full of your two favorite men.

"little slut," rick exhales at your words.

"don't you like being in me at my tightest?" you whisper as you lower down to his ear.

"this how you pictured it?" rick grins at you lazily when you nod. "wanna get fucked like this all the time?"

"mhmmm!"

"such a good girl," he muses.

"the best," daryl croaks, snapping his hips to push you closer to the edge.

your head is buried in rick's shoulder when you feel the heat from your core start to ravage your entire lower body. "so, full," you utter as the reality that you're being stretched to your limit hits you. you had not one, but two dicks inside of you, one absolutely ruining you with his ravenous rhythm.

daryl squeezes at your ass, massaging the flesh further once he hears you whining his name. it feels like out of nowhere that a hand comes down and smacks your ass, sending a signal straight to your pussy.

you nearly purr and babble into rick's shoulder. "feel you tensin', darlin'," rick notes. you murmur in agreement, barely computing now aside from how overwhelmed you were by the liquid fire consuming your loins.

the two of them can't make out a word you're saying and you're pressed completely into rick's clavicle when you squeak and gush. your swear you black out for a split second as the delicious pressure overtakes you - the feeling of convulsing around two cocks has you almost screaming, biting rick's shoulder, ass angling towards daryl.

for once your legs aren't numb but definitely not usable at that moment and you feel like the embodiment of a puddle. they haven't even spilled inside of you yet and you're shuddering between them through the aftershocks of your climax.

it takes you a moment to realize that they've both stopped; rick isn't kissing or biting up and down your shoulder, and daryl is barely thrusting into you.

as the heat builds up again you get annoyed. "guys!" you whimper. "stop staring and do it again!"

[cerebralisis]

I decided to make my analysis of So High School into a separate post, because I can’t help but think of this song every time I see photos of Taylor at the games. And sure, it sounds like a love song on the surface until you remember that Taylor was bullied in high school and start to dig a little deeper. Feeling "so high school" is not something a 34 year old woman wants to feel.

Let’s look at the lyrics.

"I'm sinking, our fingers entwined, cheeks pink in the twinkling lights" = To me this sounds like drowning, embarrassment, and diving in with the sharks

"Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me" = You mean her first Chiefs appearance when they 'slid off in the getaway car' at the end? Nothing good starts in a getaway car, babes.

"I'll drink what you think and I'm high from smoking your jokes all damn night" = I mean...

“I'm watching American Pie with you on a Saturday night" = What do we know about this movie? We know that it is renowned for its high school immaturity and misogyny. It’s about a bunch of horny boneheaded men who treat women like sex objects instead of people. Sounds a lot like football culture to me.

"Your friends are around so be quiet. I'm trying to stifle my sighs." = I'm in the box with your friends and family. I need to hold it together so I don't offend them, but I legit hate this.

"Cause I feel so high school" = SHE HATES THIS.

"Bittersweet 16 suddenly" = I don't think she was a fan of high school, you guys.

"Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? It's just a game but really, I'm betting on all 3." = A clear reference to that kiss/marry/kill interview with Travis, while also saying "we're gonna get together, put on a show for everyone, and I'm going to slowly die inside until we're done."

"Get my car door, isn't that sweet. Now pull me to the backseat" = All I hear with this is Movie Director Taylor giving instructions to her leading man so they can get a good reaction from the audience.

"You know how to ball, I know Aristotle." = You're a jock. I'm a nerd. We are not compatible.

"Touch me while your bros play grand theft auto." = The official song lyrics on Spotify put grand theft auto in lowercase the first time and capitalized the second time. The capitalized GTA could refer to Travis's friends playing the video game, sure. But also - you know who was arrested in August 2023 for grand theft auto? Bashaud Breeland, a cornerback for the Kansas City Chiefs who played with Travis in the 2020 Super Bowl.

"It's true, swear, Scout's Honor" = Look it up, I dare you.

And my absolute favorite:

"On the brink of a wrinkle in time" = This is TTPD, folks. Of course there's going to be a literary reference. A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle. The main character is a girl named Meg who is incredibly bright but struggles in school because she doesn't fit in with the other kids. After meeting a trio of badass witchy women, Meg travels to far-off worlds (a sort of deep portal time travel, you might say) where she joins the battle of light vs. darkness. What do we know about Taylor’s usage of light and darkness throughout her discography? It's giving… Reputation vs. Daylight? Shrouded in secrecy vs. out in the open? Based on everything else that Taylor has been hinting at through TTPD (not to mention Evermore and Midnights), it sounds like she is on the verge of diving into a much larger battle. And if I had to guess, I would bet that this battle will start during the Reputation re-release. Around Halloween. 🎃 When exile ends. Almost exactly 2 years after the Bejeweled music video was released. Maybe the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now cause she's dead?

I'm just speculating, but I will add that the 3rd book in the Time series is called A Swiftly Tilting Planet. There is a poem referenced through the book that goes like this:

With Ananda in this fateful hour, I place all Heaven with its power, And the sun with its brightness, And the snow with its whiteness, And the fire with all the strength it hath, And the lightning with its rapid wrath, And the winds with their swiftness along its path, And the sea with its deepness, And the rocks with their steepness, And the Earth with its starkness, All these I place with God's almighty help and grace between myself and the powers of darkness.

The word ‘Ananda’ mentioned above is the name of a character in the book, which is significant to the story because it’s a Sanskrit word that describes the eternal bliss that accompanies the ending of the rebirth cycle. If this series is what Taylor is referencing then it’s sounding more and more like she’s going to kill off Taylor TM and be done with the games, done with the reinvention. The plot summary of A Swiftly Tilting Planet says that it’s a book about "going back in time and changing might-have-beens." What decisions would she have made differently if she could do it all over again?

I don't know, friends. Take from this what you will. All I know is, this woman and all her brilliant duality is going to send me to a padded room. ✌🏻

[hoesformatt]

PASS THE BLUNT

Chris smut, ykwtfgo, the freaks know

dom!chris (all my writing is all inclusive unlike some of y’all hoes and is poc friendly)

contains: smoking weed (I’M ON THAT GOOD KUSH AND ALCOHOL), pet names (use of mama, baby), hand-jobs, blow-jobs, heavy petting, no use of y/n

word count: 1.1k

not-proofread

Contemplating on the bean bag in room, my eyes wandering around my room, the tin of kush on my bedside table glaring at me. I gave in grabbing it marching down the stairs.

“What’s good” Chris sat on the kitchen stool glancing up at me then looking back at his phone which was propped up on a water bottle.

“Hey” He said dryly

“Hello, what are doing” I waved my hands around seeking for his attention. “I’m on live” He looked straight at me smiling with a ‘Don’t say anything smart’ face.

I nodded then opening the fridge and searching for water as I took one popping the cap off the bottle.

Taking out the tin and my phone out my pants turning it off. “What are you turning your phone off for?” He asked

I hand signalled paper putting it on the table, crushing up weed, placing it on the ‘air’ paper, rolling it up, licking it and smoking it. He got the idea pretty quickly gazing towards his phone contemplating if he was going to come out and smoke with me or keep being on live.

I stood there and waited but I just rolled my eyes took my shit and walked to backyard. I slid open the back door to sit on the patio furniture.

Opening my tin, it already had my blunt I rolled up earlier and I grasped on the lighter igniting it and placing the fire on the end of my blunt.

Setting in it my mouth breathing in taking a puff, releasing the smoke almost instantly calming me down. “Pass the blunt”

Chris pulled out one of the chairs next to me sitting down manspreading before stealing the joint from my hand. He was making me so fucking horny and I wasn’t even that high yet, I just want to kneel in-between his thighs and suck him off.

I watched him drag the blunt and hold the smoke in his chest then throwing his head back then exhaling slowly.

Chris’ adams apple bobbed out as he opened his eye to look up at the night sky the stars within his gaze. The starry night gave us a chance to adore the world around, At this point we don’t even know how many hits we’ve taken, half of the joint is blown but I’m just happy and high. And horny.

Almost the whole thing was down and I placed the weed back in my tin before I closed it and glanced over at Chris who was already creating a hole through my head.

“Are you thinking, what i’m thinking?” His speech was almost perfect it was just the redness of his eyes that threw me off. “No what are you thinking” I giggled.

“I think we need to fuck” I stopped giggling when I saw his face which was dead serious. And dead hot, like what the fuck, I got nothing let to lose and this high bout to make this spicer than it can already get. Just him saying that made me notice the way brown hair fell on his face, his pink lips that could match the color of his tip, perfect straight nose, very rideable.

I walked around to sit on his lap, eyes locking in with each other. “Grind.”

I did what he asked grinding on his clothed dick with my wet cunt. Chris groaned loudly holding his hands on my waist guiding me to press down harder on his bulge.

Moving my hips up and down Chris would buck up his hips once and a while for extra stimulation and his moans got louder. “Get on your knees” I followed his lead pulling down his sweatpants along with his boxers revealing his length making me gasp at his size.

I began on the end of his length, slowly kitty-licking Chris’ pre-cum leaking out his slit which I rubbed all around his shaft for lubricant. I kissed his pulsing tip as he became impatient with me.

I fully put his cock in my mouth bobbing my head at a fast pace, gaping up at his face his lips parted, moans and whimpers stemming from his mouth. “Oh fuck mama”.

Chris pushed my head farther down fronting his balls, his tip hitting the back of my throat and my moans sending vibrations through his dick. He twisted the blunt in-between his long fingers before I heard the joint burn and crackle before he placed it back on the ashtray. Chris was still gripping my dark curls as I fought the urge to gag as I was being distracted by how heavenly he looked, my panties were soaking with wetness.

The squirming and his cries told me that was ready to cum, I felt his legs shaking around my head until Chris pushed my head down completely his length choking me out till thick liquids streamed into my mouth.

Chris lifted me up, gripping my neck then my waist to place me on his lap, sitting on his hard raw dick under my clothed cunt. I turned for my back to face him and his hands snaked up, unclipping my bra and throwing it onto the chair I was on.

I held his cock in my hand positioning it to my warm and wet pussy slowly lowering myself onto him, my mouth refused to stay closed as I huffed. “Chris y-you’re so f-f-fucking b-big”

He smirked at me before I completely nuzzled around his cock and Chris wrapped his arms waist helping me shift up and down. “Fuck mama you’re so fucking w-warm and tight”.

Bouncing on his dick I was reckless, I’ve never experienced so much pleasure in my life, feeling his length abuse my cunt as he thrusted his hips going deeper into me. “S-Shit, Chris!” He quickened his pace surprising me, as a high flushed through my body.

Moving on my own Chris laid back on the chair just staring at me bouncing on his cock, mostly watching my ass recoil with every motion I did. He snook his hands into my shirt holding my tits, “Come on mama, work that shit” He placed the blunt to my lips as I dragged it and slowed my movement until Chris yanked on my curls, my head pulling back.

My stomach tied up as I reached my orgasm and my breaths got heavier “You’re gonna cum baby?” I nodded profusely “Cum all over my cock baby, cum for me.” With his go I came with ease making a mess all over him. Letting go, I let my body fall back as he pulled through his last thrusts into me and before pulling out and cumming all over my back and his stomach.

“Shit, you gonna clean me up?”

this took longer to write than I thought…

tags:@chrisenthusiast , @miguelsangel , @lunariaxzz , @angelic-sturniolos111 ,@littlebookworm803 , @79sturniolo , @alinaa131 , @luv4kozume

[genshin-impact-unofficial]

💘~Let me see you~💘

Genshin men brushing your hair away from your face.

Ft. Itto, Diluc, Xiao, Tighnari

Tags: long-haired!reader, pre-relationship, huge crushes, fluff, meet cutes, a little gaslighting for flavor, flustered dorks, extremely PG here just sweet torturous pining.  Note: I'm back! If this looks familiar than it probably is. Other than a few tweaks, this is a repost from my old blog! I will be posting my old stuff and working on new things too! Enjoy!

Itto

Listen…. This man’s impulse control is ZERO. So reaching out and tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear was never a second thought.

Itto has always been a touchy person. You are no stranger to being included in elaborate handshakes, crushing hugs, palm aching high-fives, and the occasional holding of the hand while he leads you to the next bout of mischief the gang is getting into.

This touch tho….. was so much softer than you've ever thought the oni capable of. You'd question whose hands they were if not for the soft graze of Itto’s long pointed nails.

It's not weird unless you make it weird...... Please don't make it weird.

If you point out the gesture, he insists that he was just helping a homie out. Bro is DENSE, absolutely clueless that he has a big ol' crush.

Everyone in the Arataki gang was dying to know what would happen next in the newest adventure novel from Yea Publishing House. This volume of the popular story had just been released and if they weren’t quick enough it was bound to sell out! Sure, it was only going to take a couple days to restock but the spoilers were guaranteed to be all over the streets by then. Itto was at the forefront of the line, insisting the whole gang camp out early to snag one. It became evident that this is where the Oni’s foresight had ended. The rowdy bunch was standing in front of the seller when the realization had hit; you were all too broke to get copies. In an act of impulse desperation, you had the bright idea to ban together. One by one, members emptied each of their wallets of what little mora they had. You could hear the grumbles and complaints from other people waiting in line as you quickly added it all up. Shinobu would definitely scold you all if she there and not caught up in ‘cool ninja stuff’ as Itto calls it. You proudly announced it was enough for one volume.... and a couple snacks.  Overall, a complete success in Itto's book!

“Great going Y/N! We have the next volume of ‘I Stubbed My Toe And Became A Vampire Magical Girl In Another World’ AND we have enough tri-colored dango to go around! See? What did I tell ya? We keep nothing but the best here in the Arataki gang!” The oni bragged with the widest grin stretching from ear to ear. He laughed as he wrapped one beefy arm around you and punched the other triumphantly in the air. Itto’s energy was contagious and soon even you were also holding the book up and exclaiming with the others just how much the Arataki gang rules. 

Broke and happy, the ban of hoodlums cheered for their victory and gathered on the beach. You’ve learned a thing or two since joining the Arataki gang, like how to get comfortable almost anywhere. You handled getting the bonfire going as Mamoru was already poking sticks through lavender melons. The rest of the guys were off grabbing makeshift seats like stumps or big rocks. It didn’t take long since this was far from their first rodeo. Once the fire was big and healthy, Itto boisterously bestowed upon you the honor of storyteller. The boys eagerly sat around the fire to finally enjoy the fruits of their labor. You chuckled at his antics and dove right into the first pages. You barely registered how Itto diligently chose the closest seat and hung off your every word. Everyone was a great audience, ooo's and ahh's were always right on cue. 

The main character just discovered their newest magic vampire power and were heading into the heat of their latest battle when…. you froze. The words on the page stopped computing as soon as you felt a feather soft touch on your skin. Tentative fingers swept across your forehead and lingered for just a moment behind your ear. You must have been so caught up in the excitement that you didn't think to tie up your hair. It was spilling over your face while you were reading. When you glance over, you are met with Itto's complete and utter attention. His intensely crimson eyes are locked on only you, listening intently with a relaxed smile across his features. He looked at ease and entirely oblivious to the fact that he just made your heart skip a beat. 

"Boss you can flirt with Y/N later! The big fight is about to happen!" Genta complained loudly, followed by agreeing groans from the rest of the boys. 

"Pffft flirting?!?!? I was just looking out for my bud here! As a responsible leader of this crew its my responsibility to-... to make sure Y/N doesn't get hair in their mouth and choke! I just saved their life! It’s foresight like this that makes me qualified to be the head honcho around here!" Itto's ramblings got louder and more confident with each word, thoroughly doubling down on his point. The Oni stood at full height and began spewing his facts about the serious dangers of choking and the statistics of deaths by hair per year, most of which you were sure were untrue. 

"Ok! Ok boss! Sure, please can we get on with the novel?"  Akira groaned, not fooled for one second, but wanting so badly for it to end. 

You put the bumbling man out of his misery and cleared your throat loudly. Itto’s ego was stroked enough and took the hint to settle down. The man reclaimed his spot next you without a fuss, his dopey smile returned yet again. You attempted to cover your heated cheeks with your book and willed yourself to forget the tingling on your skin where Itto's touch had lingered. You shook your head up clear your thoughts enough to get comfortable once again. There were still the final chapters to get through and the show must go on!

Diluc

LET ME TELL YOU! This man has TOO MUCH impulse control.

Diluc is so well-versed in etiquette and would never carelessly reach into someone's personal space without permission. Unless it’s a FIGHT. 

Something about you makes all that etiquette go right out the window. He is doing it before he can think himself out of it. 

He would scold himself for overstepping and possibly making you uncomfortable. He apologies earnestly, ever the gentleman. 

Internally flustered, but hides it a little too well. Composure is this man's bread and butter after all. 

Is acutely aware of the fondness they have for you. He often busies himself with other matters to keep from dwelling on it too much.

To say you bit off more than you could chew would be an understatement. The sack of potatoes you bought from Springvale looked deceptively light before. In your rush to get back to Dawn Winery, you didn't even think to use a wagon or bring any help. You were sure Adelinde was going to be so disappointed at how late you were. 

As the newest maid, you were eager to prove yourself. Everyone at the manor was nice, but Master Diluc seemed particularly reserved with you. The master of the house was quite friendly at first, often sharing a few conversations with you as you cleaned around his office. You deliberated whether it was the vases of flowers you switched out in his office. Cecelias just seemed to brighten up the place more. Or maybe it was when you arranged his meals to resemble cute animals sometimes. But you only did that when you notice him having a particularly rough day! Ugh, he must think you're so unprofessional.

You let your thoughts wonder as you miserably carried your potato’s. Soon you felt your steps become sluggish and a slight tremble in your arms, signaling you couldn't go much further. The winery was still another half mile away but you had no choice. You slumped down in defeat on a near by rock. You were sure definitely going to be fired for this, how careless of you to not think ahead. Even if Diluc disliked you, you really enjoyed your time at the winery and getting to know everyone. You hung your head in shame, praying that you at least got to say goodbye to the rest of the staff before getting kicked out the manor. 

"Y/N? Are you hurt?" A hand cut through your curtain of hair that blocked your view of the approaching figure. Gingerly, the gloved hand guided the strands away from your face and tucked them behind your ear. Diluc was crouching in front of you, his intense gaze scanned your features for discomfort. 

"Master Diluc! No I'm alright! I'm so sorry I-" You quickly explained your situation and tried to stay focused while Diluc's gentle touch lingered on your skin. He seemed visibly relieved to learn you were unharmed. It was only then he noticed his encroachment. The man jerkily retracted his hand and leaned away to give you some space. The red haired man seemed alarmed for but a moment before clearing his throat to recompose himself.

"My apologies, I heard you gone alone to Springvale and had still not returned. This path can be dangerous when it gets late. I saw you crouched over and I thought.... Regardless I apologize for my boldness.” Diluc stated awkwardly. Despite his shyness, he still looked every part of a prince when he stood and offered you his hand. 

“Thank you for being concerned.” You smiled and took his hand. “I’m just lucky to have such a thoughtful master! There was no need to come all the way out here for me.” You lied through your teeth and turned to attempt to lift the sack once again. Diluc cleared his throat and visibly clammed up once more. Wordlessly, he lifted the potatoes in your arms and began walking back to the winery. You tried insisting that you could do it, but he stubbornly declined and refused to meet your gaze. It was quite endearing to see the confident master of the dawn winery made such a bashful gesture. Perhaps your boss didn’t dislike you as much as you think....

Xiao

Be nice. Dude doesn’t understand the intimacy of the gesture. Why are you suddenly acting so strange? 

Xiao was just annoyed that it was in the way. As a man of action, it was only natural to moved it. It is nothing more.

He wasn’t going to let a strand of hair keep him from looking at your face. Why is that such a big deal? Why are you red? He’s just telling you the truth.

Nah, it was you and your mortal reactions that is making him flustered. It was you staring at him with those big cute mortal eyes that’s causing this. It has to be, there’s no other explanation. (Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss)

Is either clueless or refuses to connect the dots that he likes you a lot. Its probably a mixture of both.

Working at the Wangshu Inn came with a few perks and stargazing after your shift was by far your favorite. The view, sounds, and atmosphere were wonderful. And it wasn’t just anywhere that you also get a quality companion to share it with. You had just settled in and laid the two plates of almond tofu next to you. It took but a few moments from when his name left your lips for Xiao to appear. The stoic man wordlessly walked over and took his usual seat nearby. Routine took over from there but getting to this point was akin to pulling teeth.

Xiao was annoyed when you initially took a liking to his vantage point. The adeptus could see all the surrounding hillychurl camps from the spot you insisted on sitting at for hours. He took no joy in intimidating humans, but his looming presence usually worked to deter mortals from he didn’t want them to be. Imposing aura or not, everyone has to share. You stubbornly stood your ground and stated the roof was plenty big enough for the two of you. Xiao would never resort to physically moving you, therefore was forced to relent. He remained out of sight but you sometimes caught glimpses of him when he would arrive there first. You couldn’t help the small inkling of guilt in your chest from forcing the other out of the spot. You really didn’t mind sharing. As a peace offering you began to leave small gifts behind. Sometimes they were small trinkets, some folded origami, or occasionally fruits and other snacks. When you saw your gifts still there, you would simply take it and replaced it with something else. It took nearly two months but when you returned to see your gift gone for the first time, you couldn’t help but smile the rest of the night. It became like a habit, not unlike befriending a crow. 

Learning Xiao took a liking to almond tofu was the real game changer. You made your best effort to cook the dish yourself, cutting no corners. When you left the meal box there you expected it to be like the other gifts that disappeared into the night. It was a shocking to see something in return the next day. It took only a few more days for the yaksha to finally cave and joined you. He primarily insisted that you didn’t have to keep making your offerings. You laughed when the realization hit you. You spent the last months quite literally making offerings to an adeptus, praying for forgiveness. 

Over time, the company became expected on the rooftop and the silence was comfortable. When conversation was sparked it flowed naturally and cemented an unlikely friendship. Although friendlier, Xiao could still be blunt and dismissive at times. It happened especially when he became frustrated with understanding mortal’s ever changing customs.

“You can’t just hold people’s faces like that!” You squeak, hiding your burning face in your hands. 

“I wasn’t holding your face. I was moving your hair away, its blowing everywhere. I can’t even see you when its this windy. You should be wearing it up so I can look at you while you’re talking.” Xiao responded defensively but his tense tone didn’t match the words leaving his mouth. It especially contrasted the way he had used both his hands to smooth down your hair on each side, pausing to look back into eyes. When his stare hadn't let up, you were the one to break away. Your heart was damn near about to beat out of your chest. 

“That’s something that.... lovers do! It’s embarrassing in this context.” You try to explain, noticing his frustration. Xiao’s eyes widened just a tad before avoiding eye contact altogether and crossing his arms.

“That doesn’t make sense. Just forget it happened then and keep telling your story about the inn guest.” The yaksha stated, grabbing his plate and turning away as he listened. The moon was just full enough for you to spot a small dusting of pink on Xiao’s ears. You decided to show him mercy and didn’t push it further. After all, it would probably take weeks of offerings for him to forgive you for teasing him.

Tighnari

No sweat. Doesn’t even bat an eye at the physical contact. He’s just being practical.

It doesn’t stop there. This dude will give you a whole up-do. It’s dangerous to keep your hair loose like that in the forest. He’s seen plenty of cases.

Your safety comes first and foremost. As soon as Tighnari notices it obstructed your vision he is on it. He’s surprisingly good at styling it too. Its not unlike braiding ropes and vines.

More insistent than normal on the matter. He claims it’s because you’re still relatively new to the forest. But other forest watchers may beg to differ.

He considers you a good friend, but it does confuse him when he notices these odd waves of protectiveness. It’s something he’s going to have to research further before coming to any solid conclusions. 

There is extensive in-depth training that each forest ranger must go through before being allowed to step foot outside the marked trails of the Avidya Forest. It was grueling, but totally worth it when you saw you were finally scheduled for your first real patrol! As part of training, Forest Watcher Tighnari was assigned to accompany you and show you the ropes. You meticulously poured your lesson notes and made sure you had all necessary equipment on hand. Tighnari was the best there was and there was a part of you that really wanted to impress him. He was sure to quiz you right? There is no way he would let someone into the dangerous parts of the forest without being sure that you knew your stuff right? Nerves were definitely getting the better of you.

In hindsight it was quite silly to have worried so much. Tighnari was surprisingly easy to get along with and not afraid to get straight to the task at hand. As the week went on, you eagerly accompanied him on his routes and witnessed first hand just how brilliant the forest watcher was. 

You didn’t expect how down to earth the revered Chief Forest Watcher Tighnari turned out to be. It was common for him to go off on tangents and lectures here and there, but it never felt like he was just trying to flex his knowledge or question yours. He was kind of excitable in that way, and you couldn’t help but find it quite endearing. You picked up on the quirks that indicated that was become accustomed to rangers spacing out while he talked on and on. Tighnari even seemed surprised that you had follow up questions about the topics he was just rambling on about. His ears were always a dead giveaway that he was caught off guard. Even someone without a big ol’ stupid crush would have found it cute. 

The tall fluffy ears in question may or may not have added to your carelessness on this particular hike. Perhaps it was why a tiny little branch sent you tumbling down into a ravine. Later you would be corrected that the ravine in question would more accurately be labeled a gully, though that specific fun fact was far less welcomed. 

“Y/N?!? Are you alright? Don’t move, I’ll be right there.” Tighnari called out urgently and hurried over to you. 

“I’m okay. I don’t know how well you can treat a bruised ego though...” You called back. Attempting a joke to hide how embarrassed you felt. It wasn't your smoothest move. Tighnari was there in moments to help you sit up. His nimble fingers began untangling your hair from your face so that he could to get a better look at you.

“This isn’t a time for jokes Y/N. That could have been a serious fall.” You've heard this tone before. It was usually reserved for reckless forest visitors or rangers that didn't heed his instructions and cause trouble. This was your first time being on the receiving end and to make things worse you looked a mess with twigs and dirt covering you from head to toe.

“I know. I’ll be better next time.” You replied dejected. Tighnari managed to brush your hair back to take a look, but your eyes darted anywhere else while he examined you. 

“You're lucky enough to walk out of that with just a couple minor abrasions. Just be careful alright?” Tighnari concluded, his tone softened considerably. You braved yourself to sneak a small glance up at him and he offered you a comforting smile. “Although, I do have an inkling of what caused you to misstep in the first place.” The forest watcher continued.

“And what would that be?” You asked far too quickly. The only way you were ever going to admit to ogling over your boss’ cute fluffy fox ears was over your dead body god damn it! 

“Having your hair loose at this length can prove quite hazardous while paroling. I must have overlooked it before. Here, come sit I think I have a solution.” A careful hand guided you over to a nearby log. Next you felt the small tugs and pulls of the remaining twigs being dislodged from your hair. Tighnari was gentle but efficient while he worked behind you. 

The ambiance of the forest made the silence quite enjoyable. It became so relaxing you could fall asleep if you wanted. You probably would have too, but you became hyper-aware each time Tighnari's gloved fingers brushed past your skin. After some time he announced he was done and you reached behind your head to feel what you could only describe as an intricate braid leading down your back.

“Wow! I didn’t expect.... thank you!” You said, in awe at his handwork. 

“All in a day’s work. Come on we should be heading back before dark.” Tighnari led the way back to the trail. “And uh, watch your step.” He added with a sly grin. You rolled you eyes and chuckled at the playful sass. There’s plenty interesting specimens to learn about in the Avidya Forest and you were sure you just found your favorite. 

<A/N: Thank you for anyone still here support my little writings! Replies and feedback always appreciated as I'm starting again from scratch!>

[fountainpenguin]

Secret Life finale highlights for me:

- "My strategy: Kill Skizz and Tango. Will happen at some point... Or, just maim them and watch them die in a corner." - Scar

- Scott on Grian's loyalty: "I have never seen a man drop a pair of sunglasses faster in my life [than last season after Joel died]."

- I think I reblogged someone's speculation weeks ago that at the dawn of final session, everyone's task book would just say "Win Secret Life." Congrats to them for Apollo's gift of prophecy.

- Martyn's beat of pause before saying to Joel "Welcome to the Out of Context video."

- At the start of the season, Etho said Joel was the first one he wanted to kill because "He's cheeky." When Joel is asked who he wants to kill, he says "Etho." Glad you're enjoying your rivalry, boys, smh...

- Joel, once again giving into his Shrek origins, watching Bdubs' wool globe go up in flames and chirping "My world's on fire; how 'bout yours?"

- Tango does not break his "pathetic death" curse. Just blipped out of existence. Love that for him.

- Spitting, crying... BigB panics and flees into his creepy backrooms for safety. Immediately vanishes into the tunnel maze. Scar pursues and skids to a halt because he hasn't seen it yet and is thoroughly creeped out.

- Scar coming up to surface and trying to describe how BigB disappeared. Martyn looks down at where they're standing and is just like "Oh, that's the backrooms." Mental image of Scar as that meme that goes "The. what."

- Scar describing BigB as a sneaky squirrel. "Squirrel" was the name of BigB's horse in Double Life.

- Joel's anxiety about entering a Nether portal on the final episode, specifically because of how he and Etho perma-died in Double Life

- Whatever was going on with Martyn flinging ender pearls up the ladder seconds before he died

- Additionally, people in the background commenting that they think Martyn's teamed up with Cleo and the only reason he was near them was an attempt to bear down and kill them

- Scar to Bdubs, watching Cleo and Etho from a distance: "Look at this- Mom and Dad are bringing their new ugly stepson to meet us, Bdubs." /camera pans to the warden chasing them

- Bdubs tells Scar that Cleo said he was her favorite son and Scar IMMEDIATELY, without responding or even waiting for Bdubs to finish his sentence, jumps a wall and books it to Cleo to confirm... Mental image of him swinging dramatically over it with one hand, his shawl billowing behind him

- Scar chases Cleo while they're both being pursued by a warden, asking her if he's her favorite son. Doesn't let up until she assures him she "just said it to keep Bdubs happy." what is wrong with the Clocker family.

- Joel somehow pulled off a beautiful PVP kill on Skizz despite having only 2.5 hearts

- In earlier episodes, Joel had people say "The florist sends his regards" on his behalf before striking. Before killing Skizz, he says "Scar sends his regards" since Scar really wanted to kill Skizz but bequeathed the fight to Joel instead.

- Scar trotting up to Etho and Cleo, who are watching him from a cliff, and announcing "I am not up to anything nefarious!"

- Scar's weird spiky wall design is really pretty

- slkdjfskldjfsklj?!?!?!? I had a bullet point on this list that said "Honorable non-finale mention to Scar getting both the Green and Yellow kill on Etho this season" but now I see I need to correct that:

- Shout-out to Scar killing Etho - in Etho's front yard - THREE TIMES this season. Etho rushing back to his base, tripping over his feet and saying "I'm going home, everybody- I'm dying at my home-"

- Scott to Scar: "I went down to BigB - to get him - and I see what you mean; he does just talk his way out of things so you feel bad; you just leave him." / Scar: "That's why you don't let him speak. You just inner monologue. You start talking about Star Wars so you can't hear his charms."

- As Scar drives his sword into Cleo, he says "Good-bye, Mom- This is for you telling Bdubs [he's your] favorite." Geez, dude. Scar killed both his parents; this family is a mess. Bonus points for Joel fumbling in the background like "Oh my gosh- Scar, you savage-"

- I watched multiple POVs until I was caught up to the standoff between Gem & The Scotts vs. The Mounders... So picking up from there with Scar's POV b/c his is the one I randomly started with today: I love how Joel basically went "I am once again throwing caution to the wind and charging into battle with a murderous Red rage in my eyes and no one behind me" like he ALWAYS does.

- Bdubs and Scar decide to back him up... Amazing.

- Scar has gotten 4 kills (Tango, Etho, Cleo, Impulse) and he was super close to getting BigB as well before Scott sniped the kill. Geez... The man is vicious today. During Limited Life, Grian made a comment that went something like "Of course Scar is only destructive / successful when I'm not on his team" and honestly? Yeah...

- Pearl begging Scar to kill her- Pearl warning Scar that if she perma-kills Gem, she'll go up 10 hearts- Scar refusing, insisting that he doesn't want to turn on her because it feels lame...

- Scar got Gem, he got Gem... GeminiSlay is DOWN!

- SCAR SWEEP WITH THE BOW!!

Oh my goodness, I saw his episode title ("Can Villain Scar Win?") and the words that went through my head were "Welp, that's a spoiler that he's dead." I see I was wrong.

GG, SCAR WIN!!! Man who wanted so desperately to have friends, only to trip and fail time and time again... GoodTimesWithVictor!!

My heart, Scar letting that zombie knock him down to half a heart... playing up like he didn't just watch the lightning bolt mark Pearl's demise. He wanders, calling out to Pearl, asking where she went... quietly giggling and muttering to himself as that zombie pushes at him... GG, Scar. GG.

My goodness, is this the only time we haven't seen the winner die in their perspective? Scar slams that success button for winning the game, gets 5 hearts, turns back, and that's it... That's the game. End scene.

What a LAD!!

[o-pandora-o]

I LIKE YOUR BLOG SM T_T

CAN I REQUEST FOR WHB BEELZEBUB AND SATAN HOW WILL THEY SURPRISE YOU ON YOUR BIRTHDAY? My Birthday is coming up and I really really really wanna feel loved by the boys 😔

The Kings (minus Lucifer) surprise you on your birthday

Warnings: Bit suggestive on Satan's part, mostly fluff genre. Reader isn't necessarily MC, but someone who is famous with the demons. I made it Gender-neutral as much as possible.

a/n: Hiii! Glad you like the blog, I'm sorry if I don't have a regular posting sched 😭. Also HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUU, I also included Mammon and Levi. Didn't include Lucifer because I don't wanna make him OOC. Hope you enjoy this!

Satan:

🩸He's gritting his teeth and you can hear the crunching noises whenever demons of Gehenna gives you gifts. "They're mine...grrr..*crunch*"

🩸Will definitely kick them in the rear when they give you something and you decide to hug/kiss/pat them (any physical touch rly).

🩸When Paimon offered to have a tea date (and gave you chocolates too!) it was the last straw for him.

🩸He drags you to his castle and to outside of his room. "Satan I know you're mad but... Your grip is too tight it hurts!" You said, and you saw Satan smirk. "So slap me" he said with a smug grinning face. "No" "Yes" "No!" "Yes... i can feel it" he lifted your hand and slapped himself and made an aroused look on his face. "Heh.. your anger... Tastes good..." "Anyways..." Satan said as he wiped the drool off his mouth. He opened the door to his room, revealing a room full of decorations and gifts for you. "You... Did this for...me?" "Yeah, I kept seeing you look at surprise videos of partners, and you kept telling ppyong that surprising people in human world isn't common...do you like it?" Satan smirks, he already know the answer to the question. "Of course I do! Thank you" you hug him and he kisses your forehead.

🩸The both of you open the gifts and cuddle inside his bedroom.

🩸Needless to say that you weren't seen outside that night because you're unwrapping your other gift.

Mammon:

🪙You woke up to the firm feeling in your bed. But also something akin to a warm teddy bear.

🪙You hugged the figure, only for it to reply with a deep laugh.

🪙You realized that Mammon is in your bed (in his castle), you woke up and stared at him, hugged him and gave him a good morning kiss and went back to sleep. "Hey little one, don't sleep on me, do you know what day it is, hmmm?" he said with a hearty deep laughter "Hmmm? Monday?" Then you went back to sleep "It's your birthday little one! here I got you some gifts and we'd do what you wanna do today how bout that?" "Mmmm just wanna sleep but ill open the gifts later thank you, Mammon" You lazily kiss his nose and fall back to sleep.

🪙Mammon gave you tons of gifts, including the new Dphone 15 and Ninten Switch 2!

🪙He also gave you some gifts for your hobbies and a bag of gold coins too!!

🪙You managed to move on the evening though, but Mammon had another surprise for you! A dinner on the rooftop of the 66 Demon Star Hotel!!!

🪙Scattered were some roses that had a touch of 24 karat gold leaf, a never ending candle flame created by the most powerful fire demon, and a table with your favorite fancy food.

🪙You were beyond disbelief, you know Mammon was lavish but you he keeps surprising you with the most expensive things and places. Before you can utter a word, Mammon spoke. "These things could not put a price on how priceless you are, you made me realize that despite owning everything in Hell, I could not put a price on your value... You're really unique and priceless as you are. Thank you for being with me." he pulled up his chair and let you sit.

🪙The night was full of chatter and laughter, under the starry skies.

Beelzebub:

🕶️You finally visited Avisos and you were in the palace to keep you safe, you were sleeping in your room.

🕶️You woke up with Beelzebub sitting in the window. "Oh you're finally awake! Come on, let's go!" Before you can utter a word, Beel scooped you up and jumped to the window. Everything was too fast, you can already hear Bael screaming from afar ("BEEL COME BACK HERE, YOU HAVEN'T SIGN THE DOCUMENTS!!!") "It's your birthday right? And I can smell that you missed me a lot, hehe I'll give you a grand tour of Avisos on your birthday!!!" Beel holds you tightly as he smiles like a child whose parents gave him his bday present. "W-wait beel! I haven't showered! I'm still in my pajamas!!!" "It doesn't matter! Plus you smell good~" he says as he smells and kisses your neck while still running. You bury your head on his chest, hiding your blush. 🕶️He knows where you wanted to go, honestly its thanks to his sense of smell. But you still tell him where to go.

🕶️Oh you wanted a stuffed toy that looks like him? Both of you went and play with the claw machine (well both of you know it's rigged...but you still got it!)

🕶️Wanna try out the new cafe? Sure! He only requests you try it with his body fluids, well if you don't want then he won't force you.

🕶️Do you want him to cosplay your husbando/waifu? He gotchu! He knows a cosplay cafe! He can also cook something for you too!

🕶️You wanna spend some sexy time with him? Oh boi he knows a good S&M Club to spend your energy on.

🕶️He's really sweet, he's the type of person that know your desires upon your smell. He knows when you're hungry, when you're angry, and if you're feeling a bit naughty.

🕶️When you fall asleep having a good time, he'd carry you back to the palace to sleep. He'd kiss your forehead/cheek and leave the gifts on your bedside table. "Ah... I'll miss you so much... But I have to go..."

🕶️He'd also leave a matching earring as a gift for you.

Leviathan:

⚰️He's pissed off, he's glaring. How come demons like you? It's unfair.

⚰️A Small demon gave you a gift? "Off with your head!" Barbatos gave you a rose because it looked like you? "Hang!" Glasy looked you from head to toe and almost uttered something sexual? "Get out!" (He was hanged and dragged away LMAO).

⚰️You're alone with Leviathan in his room. He's glaring at you. "W-what's the problem?" you should've kept your mouth shut... "You... How dare you! Han-" "You hang yourself! This is my birthday, stop making a fuss!" You cut Leviathan midway, he was looking shocked, albeit impressed. There was now dead silence but the tables have turned, you're now glaring at Leviathan and he now makes a :o face. "You don't want others giving me gift right?...then make up for it...please?" you said but you were looking away from his eyes. "How dare you...a mere mortal asking a king to make up for what he'd done... Truly you're..." "I won't choke you on bed anymore" you said, glaring at him "....fine meet me in the restaurant tonight at 7... it's not like I planned dinner or something..." (He did)

⚰️So you went to the restaurant he told you about, with the best suit/dress he provided. Suprisingly, he rented the whole restaurant to the both of you.

⚰️He was so beautiful with his suit. You can't feel but envy him (he knows...he can feel it). Well he kinda did apologize for his behavior (no not really), but the ambiance of the restaurant was beautiful enough to forgive him.

⚰️You both ate your favorite food and he slid a gift. You looked at him quizzically. "Open it..." He said. He gave you a bracelet with an intricate design. "A bracelet? It's unlike you to give me something like this... Thank you" a blush appeared in your face. "Oh it's also convertible to a whip see?" He presses the design, and it somehow shine like the color of his hair. In your hands were a silver whip with an intricate design. You couldn't understand how it became a whip, but it was cool.

⚰️Leviathan smirked, looking at you like he finally won. He won the 'best gift award', a competition that was never a competition in the first place.

[tired-biscuit]

istg what I wouldn't give to ride Kiba after having a horrible day

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // established relationship, domestic comfort.

wc: 1.9k

coming home to find him dressed in sweatpants and manspreading on the couch; looking warm and cozy and just so… boyfriend.

he greets you with a lazy grin and a little ‘hey, babe’ when he sees you locking the front door behind you, and after the day you’ve just had, he’s like a sight for sore eyes.

your bag lands with an audible thud on the floor; the shoes are quick to follow. keys get tossed to the side, as does the umbrella that you’d uselessly been carrying around the entire day for absolutely nothing since the weather app had decided to fuck you over. you’re tired, overstimulated in a sense, but completely sucked dry of any emotion at the same time.

the clothes you’re wearing feel overly tight on your body and the scarf that you had only just unwrapped from around your neck felt like it was choking you during the entire train ride home. it makes you want to gather them all up in a pile, pour gasoline over it and set it right on fire.

but now that you’re home, being greeted by your significant other — who looks so appealing after his shower, by the way — eases the discomfort a little bit. so you rush to get to him as fast as you can, shimmying out of your coat along the way, and dropping it in the middle of the hallway because you cannot even be bothered enough to hang it in its rightful place.

i mean, it’s not like it matters. one of you will pick it up later… probably.

and so, the soft pitter-patter of footsteps ensues.

despite watching you this entire time, kiba still lets out a little noise of startlement when you drop everything to collide with him and climb into his lap.

“aw… did my girl have a rough day?” he inquires playfully, smoothing down your hair when you finally stop squirming on top of him.

your arms wrap around his neck as you nod. “worst day ever, actually.”

“mm.” he gives you a moment while he considers the statement and how serious it is, offering you a chance to add more to it. but since you don’t, there’s a small pause before he asks, “wanna talk ‘bout it?”

“not really.” you blink, trying to ignore the weight that sits atop your eyelids. you’re just so tired and you feel so empty; work has been draining you like crazy. “maybe later.”

“okay,” is all he says, sensing that you don’t want him to push into the matter. “later, then.”

settled in, he strokes your back while he continues to watch the movie, listening and occasionally chuckling at the little sighs of displeasure that you keep letting out whenever he stops. his touch is loving and his palm is broad. it feels good whenever he drags it along the length of your spine that you’ve covered up with a thin white blouse. up and down — solace.

“i made dinner by the way,” he mumbles at some point. “it’s on the stove.”

“yeah?” this makes you perk up. food sounds nice; especially the promise of a warm meal that’s actually cooked instead of microwaved. “what did you make?”

“just some pasta. didn’t have time for somethin’ more fancy since i got off work later than usual, but i did make that sauce that you like.”

“ugh, thank you.” your gratitude shows in the way you rest your forehead against his shoulder and hug him tighter. “did you do the dishes too?”

briefly faltering, he says, “i loaded up the dishwasher… does that count?”

it draws a little laugh out of you. “lazy ass.”

“shush.”

you obey for once, deciding to stay quiet when he shushes you. long moments of comfortable silence pass once more; there’s nothing to fill the quiet except for the TV.

nuzzling into the crook of his neck so that you can hide your face from the world, you inhale that deep, almost spicy scent that is so unique to him and only him, before you press a gentle kiss right on top of his pulse point, disturbing its calm rhythm and urging it into something just a little bit faster.

for as long as you can remember, kiba has always been extremely responsive to you, even at the simplest of pecks aimed at his neck. but doing it one time isn’t nearly enough, so you tug on the collar of his t-shirt to get better access and kiss it again. and again.

by the fourth time, he feels the need to readjust in his seat and to wrap his hands around your hips.

“you trying to tell me something?” he mumbles, paying attention to how you drag your teeth over his sweet spot every so often now.

his eyes flutter shut at the sensation and squeeze when you part your lips wider and your teeth finally sink into the skin. the bite isn’t nearly as deep as the one he’d be able to give you, taking his sharp canines into consideration, but it does feel just as good nevertheless.

it makes his toes curl against the carpet and a deep exhale escape his mouth. his body tingles with growing warmth that starts in the pit of his stomach, slowly awakening and buzzing with what he guesses is lewd anticipation.

“no,” you reply, your voice slipping into something deeper; more sultry as you continue your ministrations. “just wanna kiss you a little bit… i missed you.”

the smile in his voice is as audible as ever as he says, “is that so?”

you suck on his neck extra hard in answer — it’s not strong enough to leave a hickey, but it does make his cock twitch in his underwear as blood rushes below his waist.

before he can say anything or act like a smartass, your fingers tangle into his hair. it’s thick and rich; the chestnut curls fill your hands as you slide them to the back of his head and tug at the roots.

a small grunt escapes him at that, planting a small kernel of pride within your chest which begins to bloom rather quickly. he leans back against the backrest of the couch, letting you touch him however you wish because he plans on doing the same.

his hands slip underneath your skirt, familiar and skillful. he bunches it up, causing wrinkles to appear in the fabric as he exposes your thighs, then your ass. he gropes the plush flesh then, squeezing and caressing; making the soft cotton of your panties stretch with the action.

the touching eventually makes you start to grind against him, and after spending so many years together, your bodies have learned to move as one during it. when he bucks his hips up, yours press down. when your back arches, his hand fills the empty space along the curve.

it’s as simple as breathing.

your feet are tucked underneath you and are propped on his knees, white thigh-high socks rubbing against his sweatpants. warm wetness pools between your legs as you rub your clothed pussy against the bulge that’s now become quite apparent despite the layers of clothes keeping you from each other. even your panties succeed in stimulating your clit.

you smile as you reach between you so that you can wrap your hand around the ridge of his cock and begin to stroke it the exact way he likes it.

meanwhile, kiba huffs and busies himself with kissing the small patch of uncovered skin near your collarbone. if you’re not careful, he might just end up ripping your pretty blouse so that his mouth and hands can reach your tits — lord knows it wouldn’t be the first time. he’s never been patient enough to work with so many dainty buttons, especially when he’s horny out of his fucking mind.

it’s the reason why you push him back against the backrest with the help of your fingers digging into his chest. why you kiss him gently when he looks at you with big, lovesick pupils and a prominent blush tinting his cheeks.

gosh, you want to marry this man.

“what’s wrong?” his exhale is laboured as he rasps the words, signature drawl instantly coming forward. his voice is so deep and riddled with want that it makes your pussy clench around nothing. you can’t wait to have him inside you.

“nothing’s wrong,” you reply, fingers working to unbutton your blouse. “i just wanna get this off real quick.”

“lemme help,” he says as he reaches for you, but you’re quick to slap his hand away.

“no, you’ll ruin it just like you ruined the last one.” another kiss is given, this time an apologetic one that’s aimed at his forehead. “just sit there and look pretty while i handle this, okay?”

surprisingly, he does. granted, he’s terribly impatient as he waits; you can feel his knee bouncing underneath you and his piercing stare burning holes into your face, but by the time the blouse and the bra are both tossed to the side, he’s been obedient enough to earn himself a reward.

“wanna sit on it now, ki,” you mumble, the corners of your lips twitching upwards again as you watch him suck your nipple into his mouth the second it’s exposed.

his nose smushes against the fat of your breast while his hand gropes the other, thumb swiping over the bud, making you even more sensitive than you already are since your period is about to pay you a visit soon. and as if that wasn’t enough already, whenever you feel the tips of his sharp fangs graze your skin, it sends exciting adrenaline coursing your veins.

“c’mon,” you insist, “you’ll get to do that later.”

he kisses your nipple softly when you push him back again, and blows on the saliva he’s left there so that he can watch you shiver.

it’s why he’s practically musing as he says, “okay, sweetheart.”

you work together so that he can pull his sweatpants low enough for his cock to become free. after a couple of more kisses and strokes, you use your own saliva instead of getting up to venture off for lube, and guide him inside you with the help of your hand, while his keeps your panties tucked to the side.

connected at long last, you both let out faint sounds of pleasure. it’s nice; warm and wet. it makes you want to kiss each other silly from how in love you are.

“you wanna take over or should i?” he asks, chocolate brown eyes glued to where your clit kisses his dark pubic hair now. besides dripping with your own arousal, you’ve also used so much spit that the hairs glisten with moisture. he thinks it’s hot as hell.

“mm, you do it,” you utter softly, sighing. “i’m too tired to even exist right now, much less ride you.”

“tsch… and then you have the nerve to call me the lazy one,” he teases with a click of his tongue against his teeth, but immediately wraps his arms around you so that he can bring you closer to his chest.

you let out a soft little whimper when he draws his hips back and ruts them into you slowly, making another wave of pleasure wash over your body, replacing the badness that was gathering throughout the day.

kiba is a good boyfriend.

you can trust him to rail the negativity out of you.

[saintmurd0ck]

i've got you, darlin'

masterlist

pairing: frank castle x afab!reader

summary: frank makes getting your period a little easier to bear

warnings: mentions of heavy periods (cramps, pain, body aches, but no bleeding), fluff and frank looking after you, protective frank!!!

a/n: for my sweet @chellestrash 💗 who deserves the world (and frank castle)

He knows, even before your eyes flutter closed and your grip tightens on the sheets. He knows, just from the way his name comes out in a hoarse whisper, more of a plea than a prayer.

Frank kneels onto the ground, his voice a gentle cadence in your ear. "That time again, huh?"

You swallow harshly, unable to stop the pained grimace distorting your face, at a loss of how else to say yes. It seems like a simple answer, a candid one, but it's a response you've come to loathe. 

Because every month, not unlike clockwork, it's an age-old reply to the same question.

Your body starts to seize, despite the breathing exercises running rampant through your head — in through the nose for three, hold for four, out through the mouth for five — and the heavy blankets doing absolutely nothing to warm your frigid skin. 

Ice and searing fire glitter in your veins, a complicated dance with no ending, not bothering to tiptoe around the white-hot knife twisting into your stomach. 

"M'right here, sweetheart," Frank murmurs, at the ready, dropping Advil into your gnarled, outstretched hand, before lifting a glass of water to your lips. 

He helps you upright, making sure the pills go down, watching your reaction to see if you need anything more. 

Your eyes dart to the kitchen, a silent communicator of the one other thing that's missing, but Frank shakes his head, placing the heat pack across your abdomen in near-perfect synchronisation. "Already got it."

A meek "Thanks, Frankie" is all you manage amongst the bouts of blinding discomfort, more of a rasp than intended. Curling up into a ball, you bury your face into the pillows, doing your best to ground yourself, to let his scent settle over you in a wave of calm. 

The mattress dips as Frank sits down next to you, dragging a soothing hand across your back, alternating his touch between long, languid strokes and featherlight circles. 

"Honestly sweetheart," he muses, the hint of a smile flitting across his face, "you'd make a great Marine."

You blink at him, disconcerted.  

He gestures towards you, chuckling. "I tell 'ya, the guys thought they were tough shit, but one week of this and they woulda been beggin' for mercy. You put 'em to shame."

You roll your eyes, mustering a weak smile. "Well it's not like I have a choice, do I?"

"Yeah? And? Ain’t makin’ me any less proud."

The next cramp snowballs into you before you have a chance to respond, impending fatigue crawling up your spine in lashes. 

And then his hands are on you, his body sheltering yours, encasing you with every ounce of protective warmth he can muster. He holds you closely, nestling your head in the crook of his neck, letting his arms fall into place. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, into your hair. “I’ve got you, darlin’. I’ve got you.” 

Sharpness turns to a throbbing, dull ache, though it reverberates in your bones, turning your muscles to jelly. 

Still, you grasp at him, clutching him tighter, as if he’s the one thing in the world that could actually get you through this. 

You suppress a bout of muted laughter. You’re always going to be the one getting yourself through this, no matter what, but…

At least Frank makes it more bearable. 

“It’s going to be a long week,” you sigh, your words muffled against his chest. 

And it’s true. You’re going to be here for a while. 

But he’s got you. 

And it’s gonna be okay. 

[1d1195]

Traditional Extra VI

Read Traditional here

Here's a little angsty bit from our lovely (jealous) MC this time around based on this ask

~4.5 k words

“I think you should talk to him.”

“No way,” she snorted. “Do you know how embarrassing that would be? And pathetic.”

Louis laughed. “The man has literally fired his best friend over jealousy of you. This is nothing,” he promised with a shake of his head.

“You don’t need to go with me, baby.”

“M’not arguing ‘bout this,” Harry muttered holding the door open for her to go through first. As she passed him, he glared at the cast on her delicate arm. For the last six weeks he looked at it loathingly. It hurt him to know she was in pain those early weeks, shaken, and physically broken.

Fortunately, it was the last day of glaring at it.

Things were better at Styles Incorporated. Her brilliant idea of course was beyond helpful, lifesaving in more ways than one. Harry was certain without it he would have had to make some deep cuts and would have ruined an innumerable number of his employees’ lives. They didn’t even know she was responsible for the idea.

Thanking her would never ever be enough.

Niall wasn’t fired anymore. She brought Harry tea every day at quarter past one. His office was spruced up with new furniture and electronics once more. Niall caught M&Ms in his mouth that she tossed from her desk and passed notes to her during meetings. Everything was right again.

Except her fragile arm. After the first week, she claimed it didn’t bother her (it didn’t, truly; but Harry was miserable about it). It was a little inconvenient. Showering was a challenge, but Harry rarely let her do that on her own without a broken bone, so it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Having sex with a cast on was also her least favorite. There was nothing un-sexier than a honking plaster on her forearm. Harry swore it didn’t even register in his brain.

I hope this doesn’t bother you... But m’never looking at your forearm when we’re in bed whether y’have a cast or not.

So, there was that.

Harry was still Louis’ least favorite person. It made him extremely anxious; in some ways, he was more worried about Louis’ feelings for him than her arm being broken or even the state of his company. There was no her if Louis didn’t like him. She reassured him that he was being extra, and she would speak to him, but he was certain Louis would melt him with his eyes if he could.

“It wasn’t his fault, Louis!” She whined laying across the sofa dramatically. “You’re being the worst right now!”

Louis shrugged. “I don’t like that you got broken.”

“It’s not like Harry was the one that crashed into me or snapped my arm,” she reminded him.

“I don’t care; you shouldn’t have left.”

She groaned. “So blame me!”

“Never,” he shook his head decidedly. Even getting Eleanor to talk him off the ledge was no help. Louis was almost unbearably stubborn. Eleanor swore she would keep working on him.

Once the cast was off, she was hoping it would go back to normal.

That day was today. She waltzed up to the counter to check in and then sat beside Harry on the hard plastic chairs. He was on the phone while she checked in, speaking in hushed whispers so as not to bother the others in the waiting room. It was definitely a business call—it was the middle of the day and she almost got away with leaving without him knowing and fussing but Niall told him.

Niall walked toward their office when he dropped Harry off at the elevator beside her.

“Tattle tale,” she glared at his retreating figure. He turned his head over his shoulder and winked at her with a telling smile that he didn’t care at all.

Harry frowned. “Kitten,” he sounded so hurt waiting alongside her. “Why didn’t y’tell me?” He pouted.

She sighed. “Because you’ve been so fussy. They’re just going to take it off. Plus, it’ll smell and—”

The elevator pinged with its arrival cutting her off from listing anything else. The nice thing about riding the elevator with the CEO was rarely did anyone want to be caught in the elevator with Harry. It meant they often got to make out privately in the middle of the workday. Harry stood at the back, leaning against the handrail. He looked at the ceiling as they descended the floors with the world’s weariest sigh. She stood beside him and tilted her head up as well. “I’m tired of you being upset about it.”

“You’re the most important thing in the world t’me, kitten,” he reminded her. “M’not taking this lightly.”

She smiled sadly at him. “I know. I know, baby. But you’re... it’s not your fault. And I don’t need you to be here for this. I know you’re busy. I saw your schedule. That’s why I didn’t tell you about it. If you had the time I would—”

“I’m never too busy for you,” his look was nearly ferocious. Intense and serious. Way too much for getting her cast sawed off on Thursday. He grabbed her hand and twined their fingers together. “Y’have t’know that,” he whispered. “I’d...I’d give up everything for you.”

“I don’t want that,” she shook her head with a little eye roll, but the gravity of his words ached her heart. She could feel each syllable shaking her body and soul.

“I love you,” he whispered.

She smiled. “Say it again,” she teased.

He chuckled pressing his forehead to hers and pecked her lips quickly. “I love you,” he repeated.

“Again.”

“I love you,” he promised and cupped her face between his hands and kissed her until the elevator brought them to the main floor.

“You can stay out here while it gets cut off,” she offered when he ended the call and scrolled through a plethora of texts and emails.

“Absolutely not,” he murmured without looking up from his phone.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her good arm around her stomach and let the cast arm lay limply in her lap. He was way too overdressed. It wasn’t his fault. He was just dressed for work. A button down tucked into a pair of fitted slacks. He looked like a model for Armani. She stared at him and looked at her outfit—having known she was leaving early for the cast cutting, she wore a pair of leggings and a jersey dress over it. She was comfortable—not overdressed but still presentable for work. She looked like a mess in comparison to Harry.

“S’matter?” he asked glancing from his phone. “Are you in pain?”

“You look really nice,” she murmured.

He smirked and shook his head. “Yeah? S’that make y’sad?”

“I look like a goblin right now.”

He chuckled, tucking his phone back in his pocket. He shook his head. “You look beautiful. You always do.”

“Hey Harry, what are you doing here?”

They turned to the sound of the woman standing at the door leading to the patient rooms. The woman was stunning. Even in scrubs, with her hair pulled back into a high ponytail. Her cheekbones were sharp and accented by the prettiest contoured makeup she had ever seen. Her eyelashes were full and lovely. She was almost certain they were natural.

Her jaw dropped a bit just looking at her, seeing that she very obviously knew Harry.

“Oh, hi, Soph,” Harry stood and cleared his throat. “Um... my girlfriend,” he gestured holding his hand out for her to take and she rose to her feet. “Her cast is coming off today.”

“Oh, you can come this way. Sorry! That was a bit unprofessional. Just surprised to see Harry,” Soph smiled sweetly and gestured for the pair of them to walk through the door. She glanced at Harry as she followed behind the pretty woman in scrubs. Harry looked a little paler. If she wasn’t so obsessed with him, she might not have noticed the change in his expression. But she had seen the worry in his eyes hidden behind the careful front he managed to keep composed when he talked with other businessmen and businesswomen. Usually when they said something that irked him because he disagreed with their philosophy or work ethic—Harry was good at what he did and had been for a while. It was hard to listen to all but bad ideas.

But she hadn’t seen it in relation to a woman she had never heard of. Was Soph short for Sophia or Sophie? Or something else? How did he know her? Why did he call her by a nickname?

“How’s your arm feel?” She asked gesturing for her to sit on the patient table while she walked to the counter to type on the chart on the tablet she carried.

“It’s fine. I think it could have come off two weeks ago,” she said still feeling weary about how Harry knew her. Harry rolled his eyes.

“She’s been trying t’rush the healing process,” Harry said.

Soph smirked. “I don’t blame you,” she said looking back at her. “It’s no fun with a cast. I was in a splint for my ankle after an ice-skating thing, remember how irritated I was?” Her question was directed to Harry. She felt the pit of her stomach churn and warm with anxiety.

Harry smirked at the memory almost instinctively. “I remember,” he mumbled quietly. It felt like a knife had been twisted in her heart. She hoped her face wasn’t betraying her internal feelings.

Soph pulled the saw off the table that would cut the plaster off her arm. She had trouble focusing on what Soph was saying because she was almost unbearably pretty. Soph went through the standard cast-cutting procedures as if she said it a hundred times a day and showed her how the saw wouldn’t cut her, pressed it to her own hand as proof and reminded her to speak up if for whatever reason she felt pain and wanted to take a breather.

“You two know each other?” She couldn’t help but ask while she sliced through the plaster. Harry was staring at her arm and nothing else.

“Like four years ago,” she smiled softly. “I was in college; my roommate was an intern at Styles Incorporated. She hated it there,” she laughed quietly. “But she brought me to the holiday party, and I asked for a drink at the bar and this guy bumped into me; spilled my drink all over me. I was glad I was wearing a dark colored dress.”

“Niall shoved me,” he grumbled looking away briefly to hide the irritation he felt over the little faux pas.

“It wasn’t a big deal. Obviously, I was used to frat house parties so having a nice Chardonnay spill on me was a lot better than party punch,” she rolled her eyes. “He was beside himself though,” she glanced at Harry with this knowing smile that made it seem like a secret. Harry’s lips twisted slightly in a half smirk. Her insides twisted again, and she had to remind herself internally to keep calm. They had a private thing. Something she didn’t know about.

Harry was clearly with this very pretty girl. Someone he obviously cared about. Sure, it was ages ago, but it was everything she feared. That stupid woman from one of the worst days of her life was right. Harry didn’t date plain girls. Not if Soph was any indication. “Have you been dating long?” Soph asked.

“Just...” she shook her head trying to do the math and feeling pathetic that it didn’t add up to much. “Just about a year,” she murmured.

“Officially,” Harry added quickly. “We dated for about six months prior,” he reminded her and told Soph like it was necessary she knew.

“That’s sweet,” she cooed kindly. Her smile was genuine. Soph was genuine. There wasn’t an ounce of jealousy or cattiness in her voice seeing Harry. She wasn’t sure she would feel the same way if the roles were reversed which made her inferiority ache in her stomach and chest more. “Well,” Soph had excitement in her voice. “Here it is,” she smiled and pulled the plaster and cushioning off her arm in two pieces. “It might be a little stiff. Regular over the counter medicine will help alleviate any final pain from the muscle stretching a bit more freely. But you’re good to go,” she patted her arm.

She shook her head trying to remind herself that she was supposed to be polite. But the feeling of inadequacy washed over her. “Thank you,” she said kindly. “I love your nails,” because she did. They were pink for Valentine’s Day maybe and the little hearts on the ring finger were adorable. It also made her notice that she didn’t have a ring.

“Oh thanks! I am actually really disappointed in my nail place—I need these off, but I don’t want to go back to where I went—they’re so outgrown,” she frowned. “I’ve been trying for ages to find a good one.”

“Oh,” she pulled out her phone. “I go to this place—not very often, admittedly. But they’re good,” she offered and held her screen out to show her.

“Thank you so much, that’s awesome! Your nails look so healthy and lovely, I noticed while I was cutting  the cast off. You don’t even have a color on them and I’m so jealous of them,” at least the feeling was mutual. “Would you mind texting me the name?” She asked with a kind smile. “Harry probably still has my number,” she turned to Harry for confirmation.

This time Harry’s posture was as stiff as her arm. He cleared his throat. “Mm.”

“Perfect,” Soph smiled as if she hadn’t a clue how weird this all was. As if she wasn’t aware of the anxiety and jealousy coursing through her. Maybe she was a good actress. “It was nice meeting you!” Soph chirped sweetly. “Nice to see you, Harry,” she pressed her hand on his arm as she passed out the door and left the pair of them to leave behind her.

*

Harry chatted on the phone while he drove back to Styles Incorporated. Normally, she listened in on the phone calls trying to help as best she could when needed. Muting his call when she had something important to add or a tidbit of information, a file, or something to help with the call.

But the feeling of inadequacy was the only thing she could focus on during the car ride. She scrolled through her phone and tried to ignore the images of someone so pretty with Harry. She was a good three inches taller than her. Her skin was flawless. She looked like she worked out often. The thought of her in Harry’s personal space made her feel sick.

She was nothing like her.

How could Harry want someone like her when he had dated someone like Soph?

“Y’okay, beautiful?” He asked. “Your arm hurt?” He wondered, reaching over and placing his hand on her thigh. He gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Just kind of tired all of a sudden. Skipped our coffee.”

He smiled softly. “I was going t’stop on the way,” he promised.

“Thank you.”

“’Course, kitten.”

*

She hoped the feelings of inadequacy would have dissipated by now but after tracking down Soph’s phone number she even sent her a pic of her new nails thanking her for the recommendation.

An M&M hit the side of her head. “You okay, darling?” Niall asked.

It was hard to keep it in. “Do you know Harry’s ex, Soph?” She asked.

“Sophie?” He blinked in surprise. Her heart felt heavy knowing her full name. “Yeah...they dated a while back...uh...for like a year, maybe? She was in college. Harry was only just getting Styles Incorporated under way. The second or third year?”

A year?

She nodded. “She cut my cast off,” she explained.

“Oh,” Niall tilted his head. “Was she...mean?”

“No, she was...really nice.”

“Yeah. I kind of figured. She always was.” As awful as it felt to watch Soph and Harry share a smile at the fond memory of ice-skating—even if it ended with her in a splint—knowing that Niall thought she was nice was somehow just as awful. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked. “Is your arm bothering you?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine. Just a little distracted. I didn’t sleep well,” she lied.

“You should go home, I think Harry left for a lunch meeting,” Niall explained.

“He left?” She asked quietly.

Niall smirked biting his lip. “Sorry, darling. He pushed the lunch meeting to today so he could go to the hospital with you the other day.”

She hated when he did that.

“Okay,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

She gathered her belongings trying to feel less ridiculous but unable to quell the frustration she felt. “Call me if you need something,” she reminded him.

“Always, darling. Same to you,” he eyed her suspiciously.

*

Louis was glad her arm was freed of the cast. “Maybe you should get my name tattooed on it,” he suggested missing his name across the entire plaster more than he hated the reason for the cast. She snorted.

Eleanor was still at work, but Louis returned to their place early per her request. They sat on the sofa, watching a movie and snacking on popcorn and candy. “Do you want to tell me why I left work early?” He asked.

She shook her head. “It’s stupid.”

“Trouble in paradise?” He questioned.

“Drop it, Louis,” she muttered stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth.

He did.

For like four minutes. “Did Harry mess up?”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing Louis, I’m being ridiculous.”

Another minute. “Are you finally mad about him breaking your arm?”

“Can you not be a child for like, five minutes?”

“Probably not.”

She sighed and pressed her palms against the length of her face and kept them over her eyes. “Harry’s ex cut my cast off,” she mumbled. “She was beautiful and nice,” she explained. “It was so humbling. I’m nothing like her. She was this dainty fairy and I looked like a potato farmer in comparison,” she sighed.

“Babe,” Louis frowned. His voice was gentle. Him acting like a child finally ceased. “Obviously I’m still mad at Harry—”

“Stupid,” she grumbled.

“–But that man loves you more than anyone has ever loved anybody. Except me with El of course,” he reminded her. “There’s a reason they didn’t work out.”

She bit the inside corner of her lip and tried to stop the feeling of tears in her eyes from surfacing. “She was so pretty, Louis,” she whispered. “It wasn’t even close.”

“But Harry loves you,” he repeated. “I know I’m being a little ridiculous about my frustration toward him, but honestly, there’s no one I trust with you more than him. He would probably break every bone in his body for you still.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“I think you should talk to him.”

“No way,” she snorted. “Do you know how embarrassing that would be? And pathetic.”

Louis laughed. “The man has literally fired his best friend over jealousy of you. This is nothing,” he promised with a shake of his head. Her phone vibrated with a message. “Speak of the devil?” Louis asked. She ignored him reading the message from Harry.

Niall said you weren’t feeling well. Hope everything is okay... Let me know what you want for dinner. See you later, kitten xx Tell Louis I said hi (and I’m sorry.)

“Can you imagine your ex-boyfriend doing that for you?” Louis asked reading over her shoulder.

She sighed and put her phone faced down. “Just tell him?”

Louis nodded. “Communication, babe. You might even get to have really hot sex after too.”

She spared her best friend of the details that all of their sex was really hot.

*

Harry had laid out a feast for the two of them when she arrived home. “Whoa, it smells good in here,” she called from the entryway kicking her shoes off. The relief flooded him. Niall told him she left early while he was gone, and it made him almost crazy immediately. It shouldn’t have, he had her location (she had his too) and he knew she was at Louis’...but it was more than that. She had been off all weekend. Less chatty with him. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes which always happened right before she got sick. She had gotten a nasty cold twice since he knew her, and he also remembered her cycle messing with her regular, adorable self.

He hurried around the corner to look at her. She was in a black turtleneck with a pair of tweed overalls. She was so pretty it hurt his chest and he had seen her at work, and he still felt speechless. As much as he loved to get a peek at her cleavage, he thought the turtleneck was so sexy and she looked like a princess. Her hair was twisted in a clip, a few pieces falling forward to frame her face. He couldn’t get over how beautiful she looked. “Are you okay?”

“God, you’re beautiful,” he sighed dreamily.

She laughed and looked at her feet briefly, her face warming at his compliment. “Thank you, baby.”

He pulled her into his chest and kissed the top of her head. “Are y’okay?” He asked. “M’worried. Y’were a little off all weekend. Like when y’get sick. I made y’some comfort food,” he explained. She nodded against his chest. He had swapped out his work clothes for a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

“M’fine,” she murmured in his shirt. She inhaled his heavenly scent and tried to steel herself to be brave and have the conversation she needed to have.

“Yeah? Y’seem sad, kitten. Tell me s’matter and I’ll fix it.”

She bit the inside of her lip. Part of her knew it would break Harry’s heart for her feelings of inadequacy. He had done nothing but adore her and she knew that. It was just... well, she couldn’t help the shake to her confidence (or lack thereof) seeing the pretty, nice girl who knew Harry intimately. “Is dinner ready or can we sit outside for a minute?” She asked. With her face still pressed to his chest, her body caged in his arms, she could feel his heartbeat flutter. She thought it was weird.

“We can sit outside,” he murmured and released everything but her hand and tugged her to the cold bed outside. Harry flipped on the heated lamp and aimed it toward the bed. She pulled a blanket from the basket near the swinging furniture and climbed onto the mattress. She waited for Harry to join her and wrapped the blanket around him, especially with his short sleeves.

“I have to tell—”

“Are you breaking up with me?” He blurted.

“Oh, for the love of God,” she rolled her eyes. “No Harry, of course not. You’re stuck with me,” she gave him a squeeze now understanding the flutter of his heart against her cheek was anxiety.

His relief deflated out of him in a sigh. “Oh,” he sighed. “Then what’s wrong?” He frowned. She closed her eyes and tucked her face into his collarbone. He rubbed her back soothingly, brushed his lips on her hairline. “Kitten,” he murmured. “Y’can tell me anything. M’sorry you’re upset—”

“I’m jealous,” she whispered.

He blinked, pulled back a bit from her so he could peer awkwardly at her face. “Jealous?” He repeated.

She closed her eyes and nodded. Her cheeks were red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

“Jealous of what?”

“Soph,” her voice was so quiet Harry wasn’t sure he heard her right.

“Who?”

“Oh, stop it, Harry,” she grumbled.

“Kitten, I have no idea who you’re—oh. Oh,” there was a long pause. “You’ve been upset since Thursday?” He asked. “Why didn’t y’tell me?”

“Cause it’s embarrassing.”

He snorted. “Kitten, I fired m’best friend in a jealous rage,” he reminded her. “Y’have nothing on me.” She imagined when she told Louis about this, that not even the embarrassment she felt would feel as bad as Louis’ smug I told you so. “Did I do something t’make y’uncomfortable?” He asked. She could see his mind spinning thinking back to Thursday and the entire interaction.

“Harry,” she sighed and looked at his green eyes filled with concern for her. His gaze was gentle. It felt like a hug in itself just to be looked at him. “She is so pretty.”

“So?”

He was going to make her say it. “I look nothing like her,” she whispered.

“Well, ‘course not. You are much more beautiful,” he shrugged casually.

“Harry,” she whined and pressed her face into his chest.

“Are you jealous because you think she’s prettier?” He asked, tilting her warm-shamed face back up to look at her with those beautiful eyes. “Kitten,” he frowned.

“I am not jealous because I think she’s prettier,” she grumbled and looked down at her nose to avoid his gaze. “I know she’s prettier,” she mumbled.

He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “Kitten, s’absolutely wrong,” he promised. “You are infinitely more beautiful than her. Look at how pretty y’look right now. And every time y’hold a door open for someone? Or how you jus’ know what I need in every meeting before I do. Or for anyone. The kindness y’have for everyone you meet. You were jealous of her and y’still told her where t’get her nails done,” he reminded her. “She would never do that. She’s pretty and nice but there is no comparison t’you, my love. We dated ages ago and it didn’t work. S'no reason t'be jealous of her.”

“I know but—”

“Kitten, I don’t think you would ever make out with someone else while we were dating; even if y’were drunk and at a college party,” he explained silencing her completely. Her lips parted slightly in surprise trying to process it. “We were at different stages in life. I was too busy for a girlfriend while m’company was starting. She wanted t'have fun in college. M’glad she’s happy. But when she told me she kissed someone else, I was relieved,” he explained. “It hurt a bit, but it was jus’ easier t’let go of something I knew wasn’t really right for me.”

“She made out with someone else?” She asked in shock. “How could she do that while dating you?”

Harry laughed loudly. He nuzzled his face against her ear and kissed the side of her head. “S’exactly why I know y’have nothing t’be jealous of, kitten,” he whispered. “M’so in love with you. I think if y'made out with someone else, I would probably kill him,” he admitted. “I didn’t feel that way with her,” he was quiet for a few moments. “Does that make y’feel better?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“M’sorry if I didn’t make y’feel beautiful or perfect, kitten. Y’very much are. Think I’d lose m’mind without you.”

She frowned slightly. “You always make me feel beautiful.”

“S’because you are,” he murmured and kissed her softly on the lips until he pulled away and kissed her forehead. “Y’ready for dinner?” He asked.

She nodded, but stopped him before he fully climbed off the bed. She gabbed his face and kissed him again, a smile on his lips as he kissed her back. “I love you,” she sighed softly when she broke away. His gaze was soft looking at her eyes again.

“Say it again,” he whispered, making her giggle.

--

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[dilatorywriting]

The Prince & The Pauper Prefect

Gender Neutral Reader x Prince Stefan (Twst OC) Word Count: 5.9k

Summary: 'Dear Ramshackle Prefect, you are cordially invited to tour the Royal Sword Academy at your leisure. We hope our libraries may have something of use to aid in your journey home. And if perhaps you find our facilities to your taste, we would be more than happy to extend you a more permanent invitation.’ Clearly, nothing about this could go wrong at all.

A/N: A commission for the very lovely @thefiasco-onyourblock. I'm having so much fun with all y'alls ideas, and this is one of the few that was asked to be public, so I'm happy you all get to see it! It was a lot of fun to dive back into this himbo~

You’d just stumbled your way back onto Ramshackle’s sagging porch after your second third fourth foray into this wonderful new world of Near-Death Experiences when the letter arrived.  It popped into existence in a pleasant burst of bubbles and sparks—a scroll of soft, cream, paper stamped with a shimmering wax seal that looked like it could have been melted down out of literal gold. You waved a hand under it, over it, all around the thing in grand loop-de-loop. The letter just kept hovering in place, occasionally spitting out another bout of multicolored sparkles.

“Hello?” you tried, cautious, and the thing crinkled at the corners. Like it was trying to wave back at you.

You glared up at the grey sky for a moment, daring whatever higher power existed in this stupid world to try fucking with you yet again, before reaching out to grab the ridiculous, magic, note.

It unrolled at your touch, like a cat stretching when you scratched along its spine. And instead of some horrible prank or wayward contract, you were greeted with an opportunity.

.

.

“POACHERS!” Crowley howled.

You sighed and rested your chin in your palm. “So can I go?”

“INTERLOPERS!” he forged onwards, waving the letter back and forth like a parent raging over a bad report card. “Who do they think they are?! Trying to swipe my most precious intern—student! My most precious and beloved of students!—out from under my nose?! As if I wouldn’t be able to see through something so—so—ACK!”

“I mean,” you grumbled miserably under your breath, “it is a pretty long nose. Could hide a lot under there.”

He turned on you with a gasp, like you’d just insulted his mother. Or… whatever the Headmaster’s no doubt vaguely evil and eldritch equivalent would be. 

“It’s a mask! A mask!”

He crumpled the letter petulantly between his clawed fingers and went to hurl it to the ground, but the paper smoothed itself out with another one of those magical ‘pops!’ and floated up on an artificial breeze to land neatly in your lap. Crowley sneered at the thing like he was planning to light it on fire, and honestly, with how strange and ethereal this little letter was, you sort of wanted to see him try.

“I think it’s a perfectly reasonable opportunity,” Professor Trein shrugged, unbothered by his superior’s usual nonsense.

“It’s not as if the Royal Sword Academy is known for their treachery,” Professor Crewel added, sounding a bit like the acknowledgement had to be yanked out of his mouth with a pair of pliers. He glanced your way for a moment with those narrowed, steely, eyes of his before turning that glare back on the old crow. “And in comparison, I don’t think any of us can truthfully claim that Night Raven has provided a particularly safe learning environment for the Prefect.”

Crowley sniffed, indignant. “A sprinkling of danger is all part of the educational experience!”

Trein sighed and Crewel pinched at his brow like he was fighting the start of a migraine.

“They’re just offering to let me look through their library archives for more information on how I could find a way home,” you tried, and then leaned forward conspiratorially. “Which would mean less work for you, you know.”

For a moment you could see the calculations whirling behind those glowing, yellow, eyes—the promise of entirely unearned vacation time and accolades for tasks he’d had absolutely bupkis to do with. But then the sharp line of his mouth hardened in determination and he turned away from you with a huff.

“We’ll discuss this betrayal of yours later—when my poor, old, heart has had some time to stitch itself back together!” he harumphed and you sighed miserably. Then he snapped his fingers with a little ‘ah!’ and turned on you with a perfectly sunny smile. “And of course there’s the VDC to plan for! Do get on that, my favorite, little, busy bee!”

Afterwards you stood in the little alcove outside of Crowley’s office, the golden letter clutched tightly in your fists. The soft edges of the scroll lifted to curl around your knuckles, like a gentle reassurance. Before you could work yourself up into getting too upset about the unfairness of it all, Professor Crewel placed a hand on your shoulder with a heavy sigh.

“I’ll drop you off Monday morning.”

You fought the tremble that was doing its best to turn your mouth into a wobbling mess, and turned to launch yourself into his furs with a crushing hug. The alchemist patted your back with a great deal of aggrieved grumbling, but he didn’t bother to push you away either, so he probably didn’t mind you creasing his coat as much as he said he did.

.

.

Your assurance that this was just a jaunt through the RSA’s library had been… mostly a fib. Or at least, deceptive in the same way that the sweeping, cursive, missive was also sort of sneaky. You’d dealt with enough genuine schemers at this point to recognize subtle promises woven into the words of the well-meaning.

‘And if perhaps you find our facilities to your taste, we would be more than happy to extend you a more permanent invitation.’

You sighed and tucked the letter into your bag. It felt a bit wrong to be ducking away from your friends and your hovel of a home like a thief absconding in the night. But this was just… You were just looking. Spending a day away from the cloying, tarry, taste of pooling blot, and the endless runaround of all your little duties, and Crowley was not nearly the same as flipping your new friends the bird and fucking off into the sunset.

You repeated this to yourself ad nauseum as you pulled on your cleanest uniform, and then again throughout the entirety of the drive down the coast, and then more when Crewel waved you out of his car with a pointed look, leaving you at the RSA’s doorstep with a little shoo shoo gesture to get you moving.

Everything was so white. And not the gentle sort of lightness that came with nice things like fluffy sheep or foam off rolling ocean waves. It was sterile—so sharply bright in the morning light that it was nearly blue. The brick path beneath your feet was white, the guardrails lining the walkways were white, the walls of the looming castle, the impressive archways, the fluttering flags bearing the school’s regal coat of arms—all bone-bleached beneath the sun and shimmering like the architecture itself had literally been polished to a gleam. The only variation to be seen amidst the sea of monochromatic brilliance was the occasional pop of a cerulean spire—like some sort of awful party hat to top off the whole mess of it.

Say what you might about Night Raven’s gothic chic and whole ‘I mean, of course the cobwebs in the halls are Intentional’ aesthetic, but at least walking around the drab buildings there didn’t leave you feeling like someone had just set off a camera flash in your face. You felt like you were dirtying the roads by just existing near them. How did anything ever get done here without everyone having to constantly stop just to sweep up their footprints behind them?!

But such was the way of this dumb world apparently. Everything had to operate in extremes—nothing could just be normal. Real. It was all some fairytale recreation, varying only in if it fell hard on one side of the spectrum or the other.

You pulled out the letter with a sigh, and began roving over the contents yet again to see where exactly you were supposed to be headed. This whole fieldtrip turning into a miserable confirmation of your unintended loyalty to Night Raven or otherwise, at least you might be able to get some information out of these promised libraries.

You managed to cross a sweeping stone bridge, descend three separate flights of stairs, and follow nearly half a dozen signs with little, circled, stars on them before realizing you were probably only making things worse for yourself. You were still on one of those glistening, pearlescent, pathways, but now there were trees everywhere. It was a far cry from the twisting, black, forests smattered throughout Night Raven’s estate. Light filtered down pleasantly through the lush trees and the air was so nicely scented with flowers and pine that it was almost like someone had gone through with a bottle of Perfume de Forest and personally spritzed each and every plant. Which—ugh. Even the birds seemed to singing in tempo to some pre-orchestrated song. It was trippy.

But speaking of trippy—

You were so busy glaring suspiciously at a tree with a literal smiley face twisted into its bark that you didn’t notice the drop-off until it was too late. To be fair, it was still all very lovely—an overhang leading to a crystalline lake that bubbled gently under the roar of nearby waterfall. No jagged rocks at the bottom or anything. You probably wouldn’t even have to tumble all the way into the water, just into the little ditch about ten feet down. But of course, all that didn’t stop you from ‘eeping’ inelegantly in a panic as you stepped over the edge and started to fall.

And then you jerked back with a wheeze when something caught you around the collar of your uniform and tugged. You flailed wildly as you were hauled back up and into the air, and something behind you made a high-pitched, nervous, whinnying noise.

“Woah, woah, woah! Easy! Easy! You’re going to send all three of us over, you big baby!”

The huffing, angry, noises just got worse and you were dropped unceremoniously back on the pathway you’d wandered off from just in time to see a pair of hooves come crashing down precariously close to where you’d been dumped. You scurried back in a hurry, because you’d survived too much nonsense at this point to get taken out from something as mundane as a kick to the head.

The horse eventually got its singular braincell working well enough to realize it had to back away from the ledge, and you were finally able to look upon your savior without being too worried about taking a hoof to the face.  

He was clearly an RSA student, what with the garishly bleached uniform and impeccably put together everything. There was a crimson cloak tossed over one of his shoulders though, which did more to break the monotony of colorless brightness than any other architecture in the entire campus, so well done him you supposed. There was a sort of effortless attractiveness to everyone in this stupid world, but your new acquaintance in particular seemed to fall hard into that ‘windswept, accidental model’ sort of look, with loose brown hair falling in a neat fringe over his forehead, and wide, warm, hazel eyes. He looked a bit like the sort of person that a school might slather on all their recruitment posters to be like ‘see! We have jocks that know how to shower and brush their hair! Look how put together we are!’

“Are you alright?” He asked, looking down at you with a canted head—curious. “You don’t look a student here.”

“I’m not,” you sighed, making your way to your feet with a sore grumble. “I have an invitation. I’m just trying to find the Headmaster’s Office,” you said, holding out the letter like a hall pass.

“Oh!” He chirped, brightening. “I can show you the way,” He offered. “Not that I’m in trouble enough to know the way there by heart or anything, but I guess just enough that there isn’t too much of a chance that I’ll get the both of us lost,” he winked and you narrowed your eyes suspiciously. Normally this sort of overly familiar banter meant you were about to get dragged into all sorts of Shenanigans.

Before you could decide whether to take the chance or politely decline, his stupid, too big, horse reared its head back with a frustrated huff. Mister Red Cloak took the mini-tantrum in stride, despite the fact that the thing had nearly just clocked him right in the face with a head that looked as solid as a boulder.

“Oh, come now,” he sighed, patting the beast’s neck. “We can finish the course later. Don’t be a baby.”

The horse made some sort of unpleasant shrieking noise like some nightmare creature from just beyond the gates of Hell that had you flinching back to avoid being Murdered, but its rider simply rolled his eyes and tugged sharply at the reins.

“What do you think, huh? Just this once?” he asked, leaning forward over the withers to talk to the raging horse in its face. Like a lunatic. “For an extra bucket of oats? And maybe, just a few—” cue an absolutely horrendous eyebrow waggle, “carrots?”

And then the horse tossed its head back with a whinny that should absolutely not have sounded anything like a ‘hell yeah! Whatever you say, dude!’ before turning and prancing around you in tight, bouncy, circles. You scrunched in on yourself, because the thing was still probably a thousand pounds of muscle and flailing limbs. Even if it wasn’t actively huffing at you anymore, now it was just getting closer faster.

“You really don’t have to,” you tried. “Just point me in the right direction and I can find my own way.”

“Nonsense!” he chirped, dropping down from the saddle to land before you in the grass with a heavy thud. He brushed at his trousers, as if he wasn’t expecting his hands to come back completely clean. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on him. “What sort of savior would I be if I let you get lost in the wild and wonderful woods of this grand institution?”

“I can see the castle,” you griped, pointing to the blue peaks over the trees.

“Last I checked, you can see it from the entrance too,” he smiled and gestured to the forested path around you, chuffing a bit like he was laughing under his breath. “Must’ve been quite a turnaround, to wind up here anyways.”

Instantly you felt your hackles rising and a familiar, prickly, heat work its way up into your cheeks.

“Thank you, for your concern,” you grit out and swiveled on your heel. “But I guess even I should be able to find my way eventually.”

The pleasantly amused expression on the brunette’s face instantly fell and he darted back in front of you with a grimace.

“Sorry—that was. Sorry. I guess I put my foot in my mouth,” he rushed out. A gloved hand came up to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You snorted and glared off into the trees.

“Now you really have to let me show you the way,” he laughed, stilted and bordering on too polite. “For making an ass out of myself like that. It’s the least I can do.”

You glared at him sourly for a moment before sighing and glancing back at the looming Andalusian still prancing along the tree line. “Will… that be coming with us?”

“Helios?” he asked, like you had any concept of what a ‘Helios’ was supposed to be. Probably the horse. “Oh, no, no, no,” he said, waving you off. “He can find his way back to the stables on his own. Right, boy?”

The horse made another one of those high-pitched, blustery, noises and you forcefully reminded yourself that you had faced inky goop monsters that were personifications of your classmates’ literal demons, and also kidnapping plots involving another of said classmates diving into your brain to rewire it like you were his own personal puppet. And in comparison to all those trials, Sentient Animals should not be creepy.

“Fine,” you huffed. “It’s fine. Just—let’s just get going.”

“Right!” he beamed, instantly bouncing back to his earlier enthusiasm. “I’m Stefan, by the way.”

You offered your own name in return, if only to be polite, and he smiled like the fact that you’d managed to grit out those familiar syllables was a gift in and of itself and not just, you know, generic introduction protocol.

“You have a lovely name,” he chirped, falling into step at your side.

You snorted, still a bit too bitter and sore. “You don’t have to try so hard to be nice, you know. To make up for saying something you feel bad about, I mean. It’s fine.”

His blinked his wide, hazel, eyes at you in way that looked a bit like you’d managed to surprise him. His eyelashes were long and soft, and they brushed against his cheeks with each shutter. Never trust people with nice eyelashes, you thought a bit petulantly. You’d known you were right to be cautious.

“You think I’m just saying that because I feel guilty?” he asked, not sounding particularly incredulous or insulted so much as genuinely curious. He tilted his head at you and some of his fringe slipped in front of his eyes, softening the sharp lines of his face. “Do people normally do that?”

You didn’t quite frown at him, but it was a close thing. You could feel your brow pinch.

“…I guess,” you huffed after a long moment, turning to stare back at the path ahead.

“Huh,” he mused, thoughtful. “Well, I really did mean it. And it’s a lot better than my name by far. I mean, really, Stefan? A bit on the nose, don’t you think? ‘Crown?’ Come on. Couldn’t my parents have been anymore original?”

You glanced over at him, a bit lost. “What does that mean?”

“Stefan?” he repeated with another one of those eyelash-sweeping blinks. “It means ‘crown.’”

“No,” you sighed, long suffering. “As in, how is that unoriginal? It’s a nice name.”

“Well, it’s because I—” he trailed off, gaze lingering in open astonishment. After a long moment of gaping at you like he’d just been clobbered across the back of the head with a baseball bat, he finally cleared his throat and looked back off into the trees with a tight shrug. “Nothing. It doesn’t mean anything I guess. Don’t worry about it.” He seemed to chew on that train of thought for a moment or two longer before turning back to face you with a wide grin that was just on the right side of smug. “You think it’s a nice name?”

“Whatever,” you huffed, cheeks starting to heat with something other than bitter chagrin. “Just please get me out of this forest before I fall over another cliff.”

.

.

Headmaster Ambrose the 63rd (the sixty-third! What in the nepo-nonsense was that?!) looked like a wizard straight out of some homey after-school-special, with silver spectacles perched on his rounded nose and a soft, pointed, cap atop his head that flopped endearingly at the tip. He was an antithesis to Crowley in every sense of the word—flowing robes replacing tight vests and formal wear, faded white accents rather than sharp black, and not a single bit of Sparkling Flair to be seen. Like everything else, as nice as he seemed, it was such a stark jump into the opposite direction that it had your hackles raised in caution.

“Our libraries are some of the most extensive in the country,” he smiled, warm and fond. It made the corners of his eyes crinkle behind the rims of his glasses. “I hope you’ll be able to find something that may be of some help to your situation.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, fighting the insane storybook urge to do something like curtsy.

He waved you off with a gentle shake of the head. “None of that ‘sir’ nonsense. You’re a guest a here! I hope my students have been treating you well?”

Stefan rubbed at the back of his neck and shot his headmaster a sheepish smile that was entirely, unfairly, handsome.

“Doing my best, sir.”

“Good lad,” he hummed, something nearly mischievous sparking in those blue-grey eyes of his. But you were hesitant to label it anything of the sort now that you’d seen what real sneaky nonsense looked like. This was more like… Children’s Program Mischief. That kind that usually involved an adult thinking themselves very clever for being able to sneak some vegetables into an afternoon snack. He turned back on you with that shining smile. “Allow me to find you an escort for the afternoon, and then we can get off to the library.”

“I’d be happy to show them around!” Stefan piped in.

“Is that so,” Ambrose mused, that same little grin playing over his mouth. “I thought you were meant to be in Equestrian Studies at the moment, hmm?”

“Well, I mean,” he spluttered, before collecting his argument and squaring his shoulders with another one of those blindingly bright smiles, “how could I possibly have left someone in need to fend for themselves, sir? I would have brought shame down on this entire institution! Heroes are meant to be made not born, after all!” He boomed, like someone cheering a school’s motto at a sports game.

All of this sounded like the largest crock of self-aggrandizing bullshit you’d ever heard, and by the time you’d had a whole internal debate with yourself over the merits of NRC’s outright nastiness versus this… whatever it was supposed to be, Ambrose was gesturing between the pair of you and saying something that you probably ought to be being paying attention to.

“Thank you, sir!” Stefan grinned, and Ambrose waved him off in that same pleasant way he had you earlier.

“You’re in excellent hands, Prefect,” the Headmaster assured as you were rushed out the door by the guy who was clearly going to be your newest Problem. “Take care! And please let me know if there’s anything at all that we can help you with.”

And then you were back out in the hallway, with Stefan already steering you towards who knew what. The archives, you hoped. But knowing your luck, probably not.

“You must be hungry, right?” he asked, perfectly polite. “Why don’t I take you to the cafeteria before we head over to the library?”

“I’m fine,” you said, just as your stomach gurgled a very loud complaint. You patted at your traitor of an abdomen in a silent reprimand and sighed, “You can just show me the way. I don’t want you to feel like you have to babysit me the whole day.”

“Nonsense,” he beamed, intertwining his arm with yours and tugging you off down another hallway before you could protest. He was so tall, and it should have been hard to keep up with his longer stride, but it wasn’t. “I like spending time with you.”

“What?” you blinked, thrown. Because maybe you’d hit your head or something, but you were pretty sure the last half hour had consisted of very little other than you being grumpy and unpleasant.

He canted his head to look down at you and the corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile.

“You’re nice to talk to,” he said. “Honest, I think. Would be the best way I could describe it. Genuine.” His hazel eyes went a bit distant, wistful. “There aren’t many people here like that. It’s different. Good different,” he promised, the corners of his smile tugging into something a bit teasing.

Your gaze tracked down to the brilliantly blue carpet beneath your feet and then around to the perfectly white walls. Other students filtered by in their starched uniforms and shiny, black, dress shoes—all impeccably groomed and all chattering idle nothings about the weather, about classes, exams. You could see the muddy imprints from your boots trailing along the floor and a few errant bits of grass fell in clumps from where they were still tangled up in your shoelaces. Something tight in you eased a bit at the mess, and you turned back to your companion with a sigh that was bordering far too close on ‘begrudgingly fond’ rather than the properly ‘put upon’ you were aiming for.

“If you say so.”

You hadn’t thought it was possible for the guy’s smile to get brighter, but somehow he managed. You squinted into the warmth of it with a strange, squirmy, feeling in your stomach that you didn’t think had much to do with being hungry.

“Come on then!” he beamed, tugging you along. “We don’t want to miss the Feast!”

“Feast?” you echoed, incredulous.

“With dancing silverware and everything,” he mock-whispered, like a secret just for the two of you.

“What the fuck,” you gaped, brain immediately latching onto the most ridiculous aspect of all of it. “How do you eat anything if it’s dancing?”

Stefan threw his head back with a roaring laugh that had you wanting to sink into your collar with your shoulders hunched up to your ears. But no one stopped to stare, or point, or snicker into their palms at his open enthusiasm. There were a few curious peepers, but once they seemed to identify the source of the noise, they all went back to wandering the halls in their perfectly pressed uniforms with nary a sly comment or sneer to be seen.

“See?” he beamed, tilting sideways to knock his shoulder against yours. “Honest. Now come on—we don’t want to miss out on all the grey stuff. It tastes way better than it sounds, promise.”

.

.

The pair of you entered the cafeteria right at the start of things, with dishes and forks just beginning to fly overhead in waves of strange, blinking, lights and motes of golden sparks. More than a few people waved at Stefan as he walked in, and he returned the greetings with polite, buoyant, ones of his own before herding you to an empty table off to the side.

“You don’t want to sit with your friends?” you asked, brow pinching in confusion.

“Hmm?” he mumbled around a spoonful of something already shoved in his mouth. There wasn’t any kind of plate in front of him, so he must have snatched it right out of the air. He swallowed and reached up to grab another. “Oh, no. That’s fine. Here! Try this!”

You leaned away from the spoon he held up to your lips with a huff and some obligatory complaints about how ‘you could feed yourself just fine, thank you very much.’ You plucked the bit of silverware from his fingers with a wary frown and very tactfully ignored that lingering, fluttering, warmth in your gut that you still hadn’t managed to completely snuff out.

“Is this… grey stuff?”

“Right on the money,” he winked, leaning forward to snatch up another flying fork. “My family’s not usually a fan of more ‘modern’ cuisine, so it’s always a treat to be able to try all the different foods at the Feasts here.”

You looked hesitantly at the goopy mess of monochromatic paste smeared across the spoon, and then back up at Stefan who was casually digging into his own floating mountain of toxic waste with an absolutely enraptured hum of satisfaction.

“Remind me to buy you a grilled cheese or something…” you muttered under your breath, before bravely swallowing the entire spoonful of sludge. And—huh. That was actually… pretty delicious. How weird.

You spent the rest of the luncheon event picking at random bits of floating foods as they danced by. Occasionally Stefan would lean forward to point out his favorites and give recommendations. He was surprisingly observant, despite whatever initial impressions his jock’s jawline and guileless grins may have led you to believe otherwise—taking easy note of the things you pushed aside and the ones you nibbled at more enthusiastically.

“Oh—you missed the desserts,” he lamented as the last remnants of a picked apart pie flew over your head.

“That’s fine,” you said, but he only shook his head and began to drag you off again with another of those brilliant grins.

And so began a weird sort of pseudo treasure hunt, where Stefan would take your hand and haul you off to some random corner of the castle with promises of whatever seemed to strike his fancy, or more accurately you supposed, whatever he seemed to think you might fancy.

“No one really uses this vending machine anymore, but somehow it always restocks and it has the best ice cream bars I’ve ever had. It’s wild! I’m sure you’ll love it!—“

“Oh, it is pretty cold down here, right? I didn’t even think about that. But… hmm… Here! I know the best place to grab a hot chocolate! It’s just over this way a bit—“

“These walls are kind of a drab view, yeah? Here! If we go down this way there’s a great little area to sit where you can see the whole bay—“

By the end of things, somehow you ended up back at the stables with that terror of a horse of his. And despite the runaround and the vaguely exhausting fact that Stefan’s social battery never seemed to wear itself out ever, it wasn’t… it wasn’t that bad, actually. Sometimes people would wave him down to talk, and he always introduced you and left the proverbial door open for you to join the conversation, but never asked you to participate, which was nice. You’d taken to just sort of slouching against his side in a food coma like a lizard on a rock as he answered whatever mundane questions all the other students asked of him. But otherwise, it was just the pair of you bopping around all over the campus.

Helios saw his master and whinnied merrily, and Stefan made an odd sort of chuffing noise in return that had you laughing into your palm.

“What?” He complained good-naturedly. “You’ve never barked at a dog before? It’s the same thing!”

“Of course it is,” you droned, lips twitching up at the corners.

The next destination was someplace on the coast that he was insisting was the absolute best place in the world to sit and think. Which if you wanted to do research, naturally you needed to get your head together about where to start, right? The only problem was that it was a solid hour hike away, but Stefan assured you that on horseback it was a much shorter journey.

You leaned forward on your tiptoes to get a look down the sprawling corridor of stalls, each larger and grander than the last. And each of their occupants following that exact same trend. There even looked like there was a horse with wings, which was—ah. Not helping the intimidation factor, to say the least.

“You can ride with me,” he offered. “If you’re uncomfortable, I mean. Sometimes it helps to feel like there’s someone more adept at the reins.”

You blinked, a bit taken aback that he’d picked up on your discomfort so easily. But then then you focused on the rest of that offer and you and the horse shared a Look. And wasn’t that a trippy thing to notice. You immediately forced yourself not to think about it.

“I don’t know if that’s fair to Helios,” you pointed out.

“Nonsense!” Stefan waved you off, and Helios pinned his ears indignantly. “He’s an Andalusian. They’re war horses, you know? Built to be as sturdy and strong as any horse can be.” He said the last part with a sickly-sweet uptick to his voice, and leaned up against the beast’s flank like they were sharing an inside joke. “They say Prince Phillip’s legendary steed was an Andalusian, and they rode into battle against a dragon together.”

Helios’s grey muzzle twitched prissily and eventually the horse lowered his great head to thump against Stefan’s side with a gusty ‘harumph’ that had the man stumbling forward with a pleasant laugh.

“There you are, you big baby. I knew you had it in you.”

After giving the horse a firm pat pat on his rump, Stefan turned and offered you a hand.

“It’s easier if I help you up first,” he explained.

“Isn’t there like… a ladder, or something?” You tried, and Stefan grinned sneakily before ducking behind you and hauling you up on Helios’s back all in one go. You absolutely, positively, did not squeak, or anything else ridiculous like that. It was a—a squawk! The most indignant and put upon of noises!

Stefan laughed and waved off whatever terrible sounds you were making with a bemused ‘Sorry! Sorry!’ that was the absolute least apologetic thing you’d ever heard. And then he was swinging himself up near effortlessly into the saddle behind you and looping an arm around your waist.

“Sometimes it’s better to just get it over with,” he explained in your ear, like your brain hadn’t just absolutely Blue Screened at the new weight along your hips. “Like ripping off a bandaid. I know it can all be sort of intimidating for people who aren’t used to being around horses.”

When you didn’t respond, because you were still trying to sort cognizant thoughts of the mess of ‘!!!’ that was hard at work blotting out the rest of your brain, you felt him start to shift a bit behind you. His hands flexed a bit tighter, as if the idea of you not being secure enough in the saddle was in anyway the problem here. After another moment of your continued silence, Stefan leaned forward carefully to hook his chin over your shoulder and spoke in that same carefully polite way he had when he’d worried he’d insulted you all those hours ago in the forest.

“If you’re still uncomfortable I can get you down if you want,” he offered, voice dipping low in something that sounded like hesitance. “I know I—I mean, you don’t have to go riding with me, if you don’t want to. I just thought it’d be…” He cleared his throat, and you must have been going delirious because out of the corner of your eyes you swore you could see the tips of his ears turning pink. “I can… I can just take you to the library now, if you want,” he said. “I know I’ve already been pretty selfish with your time today.”

Helios shifted to stamp his feet and you twisted your fingers nervously into his mane. You really didn’t feel entirely great about being so high, on something so wild and big. And honestly, you had wasted a lot of time sightseeing with your impromptu tour guide. If you were being in anyway rational, you should demand Stefan dismount and take you to the library like he promised. But all the same… Today had been—all of it had been…

“Just don’t let me fall,” you huffed, fighting the urge to duck your chin down into your collar to hide the rising heat in your cheeks.

“Of course not!” Stefan beamed, straightening himself back up so suddenly that he nearly tipped the both of you from the saddle. You sent him a glare over your shoulder and he laughed, loud and boisterous. “Sorry, sorry. From here out starts the ‘of course not.’ That was just a test run.”

“Whatever,” you sighed, letting him maneuver your hands to better hold the reins alongside his.

Naturally, by the time you got halfway to the beach, Stefan remembered that the library closed early on Mondays, and that you’d well and truly missed your opportunity as you’d been off gallivanting with him and his ridiculousness all day.

But you know what? It was fine. You’d just come back tomorrow. And maybe the next day too.

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