#thank you for the question this was a great one to ponder!

[defira85]

If Elissa were in SWTOR, who would she be?

OHHHH. Oh. Hmmm. That's a really good question.

I feel like the obvious answer given her sense of rebellion and feelings of inadequacy and the question about whether the vaguely supernatural inclinations of the Grey Wardens would count as a reflection of Force powers, I think the answer is this:

She is the daughter of a political dynasty, possibly Alderaanian, possibly Corellian, very powerful, very established within the Republic. Being a Senator is essentially an inherited position at this point in time, you know the sort. I specify Alderaan or Corellia in particular because it needs to be somewhere that the Empire hit hard and fast, causing the death of her family and the initial trauma at the outset like the Cousland origin

A Jedi a la Duncan is present to help save her, notices her latent Force abilities which were either too weak to warrant formal training as a child or her family paid to have the Jedi look the other way. Things are dire, Jedi numbers are in freefall with the ongoing war, she gets plucked out of the ruins of home and told "congratulations you're a Jedi now, go kill people for the Republic"

Which is to say I think she'd be the Jedi Knight storyline, dark-side aligned, but the DS JK is a bit too sassy and snarky for her in game so it'd be with caveats. It even makes sense that you get given a powerful assistant/padawan immediately in Kira, because that mirrors how Elissa had Alistair and Leliana propping her up or outright doing shit for her when she mentally retreated

[reidrum]

I can't stop thinking munch!spencer x reader who's insecure about having thick thighs (it's me, I'm reader)

take a seat | s.r

hi thank u for requesting!! i tried to be ambiguous about reader’s size but if it doesn’t come across that way lemme know and ill fix it!!!

wc: 1.7k

cw: 18+ smut minors dni, afab reader, face sitting, munch!spencer my beloved, insecure!reader who i took to be a little self indulgent sorry, fluff, hurt comfort but no hurt lol

this is also not proofread sorry

_______________________________________________

the thing about spencer is if you have any fear or qualm about anything, his main verbal form of comfort is information. and it’s not a bad thing, not at all. finding comfort in the facts is what spencer hopes to achieve when he spews his tidbits. it’s just, sometimes it’ll do more harm than good, or even worse, do nothing at all.

that’s where you’re at right now, sitting in spencer’s room with your legs tucked under you while he sits up at the head of the bed. the top buttons of his dress shirt are undone, tie strewn somewhere in the room. you’re still fully clothed albeit in a loose t shirt and some panties. the want in his eyes is undeniable, his question still lingering in the air.

you weren’t exactly the most confident person, but was anyone really? did people really wake up in the morning, look at themselves in the mirror and say, ‘wow, i look beautiful today.”? tell themselves they’re going to have a good day because they said so?

so when you’d spent your whole life living in the shadows trying to blend in and just do your job, one day an ever observant spencer reid saw you struggling to carry your coffee and your bag into the bullpen and came to your rescue before it could spill all over you. you were a mumbling mess, uttering thank you’s and i’m so sorrys and i’ll be more careful next time. but his gaze on you was unwavering, even in the face of your uneasiness, and firmly but softly told you nothing was wrong, and suggested that maybe you and him should get coffee before work to avoid this rush next time.

falling in love with him was too easy after that.

spencer never failed to make you feel cherished, loved, safe, always going above and beyond to care for your needs and wants. the trust you had in him was immense and you knew he would never steer you astray.

so sitting in front of him on his bed while he adorns a small smirk asking, no telling, you to sit on his face, made you falter a bit.

“you want me, to sit on your face?”

he nods, “yeah.”

any thought you’ve ever had vanishes from your brain, “b—but, won’t it be uncomfortable? for you?”

“not at all.”

seeing spencer be surprisingly calm about this is having the opposite effect on you, creating the unsettlement in your gut. like he’s been thinking about this for while, has wanted you at his mercy in a way you haven’t experienced before, has thought through all the facts and possibilities and ruled with absolute certainty that this was what he wanted, needed. and right now your body is betraying your mind as the heat pools between your legs.

but that brain of yours, a blessing with its vast knowledge but a curse at how easily a single thought can send you into a deep spiral, is working overtime to convince you that this isn’t really what he wants.

he can see the cogs working overtime and scoots closer to you and places a comforting hand on your thigh to rub soothing shapes with his thumb, “what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“nothing i-“ you stop before you can get too deep.

his eyes look at you expectantly, luring you to continue.

“what if i hurt you?”

“that is literally impossible.”

“what if i suffocate you?”

“then that would be a great way to go out.” he chuckles.

you lightly slap his leg, “stop that.”

he gestures you closer to sit curled into his side, a comforting arm smoothing you up and down. “if you really don’t want to do it that’s okay i don’t want to push you, just want you to feel good s’all.”

you ponder for a minute, “…you would tell me if it’s too much right?”

“i would,” he nods, “but i won’t need to.”

he squeezes your hand in reassurance, and you remember that spencer reid would never lie to you.

which is why you say, “okay.”

his eyes light up like a carnival, “yeah?”

you take a deep breath, “yeah.”

“come here,” cupping your cheek to bring in and kiss you.

it starts off slow, deliberate. like he wants you to know how much he appreciates you placing your trust in his possession, and how gently and carefully he’s going to take care of it.

you hike a leg over his lap to straddle him and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his lips mark you like a road map. he moves down your jaw and uses his nose to nudge your neck away, giving him better access to litter the skin with love bites.

the moans spilling from your mouth spur him on, he starts subconsciously bucking his hips up causing you to grow restless for more.

he senses this and motions for you to lift up on your knees above him so he can slide his body down flat between your legs. the warm palms of his hands rest where your thighs meet the swell of your ass.

you look down at the sight of him laid out for you, and catch his shit eating grin staring back. the dichotomy this position gives you with a sense of power to be over him like this but the vulnerability at feeling so exposed caused a swirl of emotions for you.

“hey,” he squeezes his palms laid on your ass, “if this is a lot, that’s okay.”

“no, no.i think i want this. i’m just scared.” you softly admit.

“nothing to be scared of, angel. it’s not like i haven’t eaten you out before, it’s just a different position,” his hands move closer to your core, “let me make you feel good, please.”

you stare into his eyes once more, being met with nothing but trust and lust for you. with a deep breath, you nod your head.

he smirks again, “alright sweetheart, take a seat.”

you slowly inch your body up his own, hearing him outwardly groan as your cunt came into his line of sight.

“jesus fuck, you have the prettiest pussy.”

you preen at his words once you’ve reached the position, and you hover in hesitation. he wraps his arms under and around your legs and gently pulls you down.

and he attacks you like a man starved. his tongue licking a full stripe up your cunt, letting it swirl around your clit. the feeling is so intense in this position you have to lean forward and brace yourself on the headboard.

with a gasp you whine out his name, “oh my god, fuck.” he continues to use his tongue to barrel you towards your peak, knowing exactly where to touch and lick to rile you up.

he can tell you’re still holding back, feeling the tense muscles in your upper thighs harden under his touch. with a sharp tug he pulls you to be seated fully on his face, and he lets out a deep groan that vibrates through your whole body.

you’re fully at his mercy now, held down by his large hands and his mouth working so hard to make you see stars. the pleasure is overtaking all of your senses, when you look down to meet his eyes they’re staring right back at you, reveling in your ecstasy. a languished moan leaves you as you tangle your hands in his hair and pull.

he laps up your arousal with urgency, tongue moving in such a delicate and intricate way you would think he’s writing a love letter with it.

the coil in your gut starts to tighten and you can feel your peak coming fast, “spence…” you whine.

he hums in response, silently acknowledging what you mean. one more slow lick up and down your slit was all it took to push you overboard. the endorphins rush over you like a tsunami as you try to ride out the wave of your orgasm.

spencer doesn’t stop his motions and continues to work your overly sensitive clit, gripping your legs tighter to him as he prevents you from escaping.

“shit, oh god baby, you need to st—stop.” you brokenly moan out. you tug on his hair hard as you try to release his grip on you, and after a few minutes he takes pity and lets you go.

you let out a big and tired sigh as you flop to the side of him, one leg still draped over him as you’re both panting heavily, attempting to come down from the heat of the moment.

he smoothes out the leg over him with his hand and turns to face you, face plastered with a stupid grin and glistening with you.

“see? that wasn’t so bad.”

you scoff breathlessly, “i think maybe you’re trying to kill me.”

“maybe,” he laughs, “ but you liked it right?”

you nod bashfully, “did you…like it?”

his eyes widen, “are you kidding? you looked so hot it drove me insane. you’re always so beautiful but having you like that…i like making you feel good, it makes me feel really good, and that is a win-win.”

you smile at him and move closer to fit under his arm and into his side, your hand resting on his chest. he tightens his arm around you and whisper, “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you say through hooded eyes. your hand starts trailing lower, “must have been really good for you seeing how painful this looks.” you softly say, gesturing to the aching bulge in his boxers, the dark patch stained by precum.

his breath hitches as you inch closer, “baby, no it’s okay. you don’t have to do th—“ the sentence gets cut off when your hand gives him a tentative squeeze.

“i don’t have to, but i want to. i should thank you somehow for making me feel so good,” your voice dropping an octave in lust, “will you let me show my thanks, honey?”

you stare at him with the sultriest doe eyes he’s ever seen, and he’s thoroughly convinced in that moment that you are, in fact, trying to kill him.

still a great way to go out, he thinks.

[kazumist]

getting hit by a snowball in the face by a complete stranger was not how you wanted to start your day.

“agh! oh my god, i’m so sorry. that was meant for my little brother, i swear!” the man—a ginger, you noted—said. you removed the residue of snow from your hair and sighed at him. “it’s fine; don’t worry. accidents happen.”

“are you sure you’re okay? i threw that snowball kind of hard…” he then says, moving closer. you stepped back, of course, cautious of him. he steps back as well, in surprise, realizing that what he’s doing might seem creepy to you. the ginger sheepishly rubs his golved hand on his neck, avoiding eye contact now. “it’s—i’m alright. thank you for the concern, though.”

“can i at least treat you for some hot cocoa? i know a place that serves the best you’ll ever taste.” he offers. you pondered about it for a moment, leaning more on the option of rejecting the offer. but before you could say anything, he already spoke first. “i insist—it’ll be quick, i promise! i just didn’t want you to leave it like this.” well, at least he knows he’s insistent. “fine, one hot cocoa it is then.”

“great! i’m ajax, by the way.”

— — — — — — — — 

“how did you and dad meet again?”

you froze with your child’s question. it was a funny tale, really. you looked outside of the kitchen window, reminiscing that day once again. “he threw a snowball at my face.” you chuckled as you continued cutting the apple in your hand.

“huh?! that must’ve hurt then!”

“well, it did, but look where that brought us now.”

note: happy birthday ajax ♡ no long fic for you this year but your birthday art immediately gave me this idea LOL but i feel kinda 50 50 with this one <//3

[okaylikeschaewon]

Chapter 9: Cherry Blossom

~5500 words, male reader, smut

“Maybe it’s just lust.”

“That didn’t feel like lust,” you argued.

“The way she kissed you, or the way you kissed her?”

“I don’t…” you stammered. “I’m a fucking awful person.”

“Okay hold up,” Sakura grabbed your hands, forcing you to sit down. “Tell me if I got this right. You slept with her because Chaewon told you to, and just now Zuha confessed she might have feelings for you, and then the two of you kissed?”

“She kissed me first.”

“Yeah, and then you kissed her back,” Sakura said gently. “Before we go further, I want you to take a deep breath and relax. You’re not a bad person, it’s going to be okay.”

“Alright,” you followed her advice, inhaling deeply before exhaling. “Thanks for hearing me out by the way, I didn’t know who else to talk to.”

“Well, you did come to me in a bit of a panic,” Sakura chuckled warmly. “But of course I’d hear you out.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize,” Sakura replied before adding shyly. “Thanks for trusting me.”

“What? Kkura, of course I trust you, that shouldn’t even be a question.”

“Let’s get back to the topic,” Sakura quickly changed the subject. “First of all, I don’t want you to tell Chaewon anything without getting your head straight.”

“I don’t want to hide anything-”

“I’m not telling you to hide anything or to lie,” Sakura interjected. “I’m just telling you that this was a lot to go through, and that I want you to promise me that you won’t rush into telling her this without properly thinking about it first.”

“Won’t Zuha just tell her anyway?”

“From what you’ve told me, there’s no chance of that happening.”

“How can you be so sure?” you questioned her confidence.

“You claim she was borderline in tears when she told you how she felt? There’s no chance she’d tell Chaewon, truthfully it’s probably really tough for her to even admit these feelings to you knowing that you and Chaewon are together,” Sakura explained. “Just trust me on this one.”

“Alright fine,” you replied. “I also don’t want Zuha to feel like she has no one to talk to about this.”

“We can figure that out later, right now I’m concerned about you and only you,” Sakura stated, letting go of your hands.

“So why exactly shouldn’t I go tell Chaewon right now?”

“Think about it, if you rush to tell her this instead of being a little tactful, you know her feelings will be hurt, especially if you don’t even understand it yourself,” Sakura explained slowly, clearly growing impatient. “Also, think about how Zuha would feel, she told you because she trusts you.”

“But-”

“No, you cannot tell Chaewon yet.”

“I-”

“Do you want to hurt her?” Sakura asked angrily, shooting daggers at you with her eyes. “If you do, then go. Go tell her. I’m sure it’ll work out fine.”

“Alright, alright I get what you’re saying,” you sighed. “So what should I do?”

“Let’s start with hearing what you actually think,” Sakura suggested, warming back up. “Be honest, do you have feelings for Kazuha?”

“I… don’t think so,” you answered, not nearly as confidently as when Chaewon asked you the same question.

“You don’t think so?” Sakura repeated your answer.

“It’s like… look, the sex was fucking amazing,” you explained.

“Thanks, not what I was asking.”

“Hold on, let me finish,” you continued. “The sex was great, but I haven’t had those feelings for Zuha before.”

“When you say before, does that mean you do have them now?”

“I… don’t think so.”

“Swee-” Sakura immediately paused, her cheeks turning bright pink. “Alright, I really think you should take the night to think about how you feel.”

“Hmm,” you ignored her little slip up. “I can do that.”

“Then tomorrow you’ll know if you should talk to Chaewon or Zuha first,” she continued. “I know you’ll make the right decision, whatever it is.”

“Okay, I’ll sleep on it,” you agreed with her plan.

“Also, is it okay with you if I talk to Zuha about this?” Sakura asked.

“I…” you pondered the question. Part of you wanted to say no because it was an odd scenario, but the other part of you knew that Sakura was smart enough to do it in a way that would work out. “Yeah, you can.”

“Thanks,” Sakura smiled before leaning forward and giving you a hug. “You’re a good person, I know you are.”

“I feel a lot better after talking to you.”

“I’m glad I could help,” Sakura smiled at you after letting go.

“This kinda reminded me of…” you let your voice trail off.

“I know what you mean.”

“Do you ever… think about those days?” you asked spontaneously without thinking. “Sorry, I know we agreed to move on and not talk about it anymore, that was a dumb question.”

“Yeah,” Sakura replied softly, staring at you with a blank stare. “All the time.”

“Kkura…”

“Remember that video we accidentally made?” Sakura giggled with an undertone of sadness to it, or perhaps nostalgia.

“How could I forget,” you smiled back at her, reminiscing about your past with the girl.

“I still have it.”

—

“You got this! No! Yes! Noooo.”

“Why am I so bad at this!”

“It’s okay my little cherry blossom, you were so close,” you reassured her while rubbing her shoulder. “Honestly that was just unlucky.”

“Play a round, I’m going to grab some water,” Sakura sighed with pure dejection, making no attempt to hide her sense of defeat.

It felt a tiny bit strange playing again after so long, but it didn’t take long as soon as your fingers felt those lovely mechanical keycaps. There was barely any need for a warm up - it helped that Sakura was considerably lower ranked than you. Not that you were proud to be smurfing, but it did make you feel pretty good knowing you weren’t completely washed at the game.

“How’s it going?” Sakura asked as she walked back into her room, still looking a bit down as she closed the door behind her.

“Oh I’m getting super lucky,” you lied, knowing very well how easy this game was so far. “Here, come finish this one.”

“Play it out, I’ll watch,” she said while taking a seat on your lap. “Wait, you’re… this isn’t even close.”

“Nah it’s not like that,” you teased while flashing the scoreboard for a brief second.

“How do you already have…” she sighed heavily, letting her shoulders noticeably drop as she slumped. “Don’t lose now.”

“I’ll try,” you replied while giving her a gentle kiss on the back of her head before positioning yourself in a way that you could see over her shoulder. “For you,” you added, letting go of the mouse for a moment to give her thigh a little squeeze.

Sakura’s delightful flowery shampoo was a bit distracting, but not as much as her firm ass on your lap. By a bit, you meant incredibly, you could feel the blood slowly moving to your crotch, but you forced yourself to stay focused. The game went on, despite Sakura’s body being right there between your arms, elimination after elimination with hardly any resistance. It was far from impressive in your eyes, but Sakura’s reaction made it feel special.

“Wow!” she gasped, doing a little hop on your lap after yet another successful teamfight. “Damn, you really make it look easy!”

That’s because it was easy, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t help but feel the corners of your lips rise at Sakura's animated reactions: The little cheers when you got an elimination, the gasps when you barely escaped. Her whole body would move and sway, almost as if she was unable to control herself, yet each little bounce of her ass also felt incredibly intentional - like she was trying to make you lose.

“You did it!” she shouted. “Clean sweep incoming?”

“I’m only playing this well because you’re sitting on my lap,” you praised her, hugging her while you waited for the last round to start, earning a little giggle from the adorable girl. “Now, stop being so cute.”

She brought her hands up to her mouth, stifling another giggle playfully. You gave her another little peck on the back of her head as you pushed toward the point. Just like the first round, this one went as smoothly as you would have imagined. That was, until, your team got a bit overzealous. Some may even say cocky, and in their defense it was probably in part due to how easy you were making this game for them.

“If you win this round I’ll give you head,” Sakura blurted out after seeing your team struggling. She definitely assumed it was already over.

Luckily for you, the other team clearly fluked their way to making this round competitive, and you turned it around without much contest. You couldn't help but smile at how easy they made it, silently thanking Sakura’s low elo for putting you up against them. The girl in question had leaned forward, hyper-focused on your gameplay. This did also result in her ass pressing even harder against your body - tempting you to forget about the game to bend her over the desk right then and there.

“Deal,” you teased Sakura after setting yourself up for a sure win.

“I forgot how good you were,” she commented quietly, watching the screen attentively in awe.

“How about this,” you continued after wiping the enemy team once again. “You finish off this game, see what you can do.”

“No no no, I’ll lose,” she quickly shot down the idea, leaning back almost in fear.

Ignoring her protests, you grabbed her arms and placed them on the keyboard and mouse.

“You got this, I believe in you,” you reassured her while nuzzling your face on her shoulder. She was shaking slightly, her nervousness was so ridiculously adorable. After placing your hand on top of hers, you steadied her slightly, calming her nerves. “Breath. You got this, it’s just a game.”

She took a deep breath before leaning forward slightly and focusing. You leaned back to give her space, and your eyes couldn’t help but take a peek at the gorgeous shape of her backside. The way her thin hips made the shape of her ass so much more defined drove you insane. After adoring her heart-shaped ass for a few moments, you shifted your attention to the game.

The way Sakura would maneuver her whole body when she would move in game, the way she would duck her head when she took cover, the way she would make little gasps and take sharp inhales every time she took a hit, it all accumulated into a whole package of irresistible cuteness. That endearing nature of her every action whenever she was gaming was something you found painfully adorable.

It was getting tense, any lead you had built up was erased at this point. Frankly, she should have lost already, but somehow she was holding on. While fumbling with her keys, she eventually equalized the situation again, but she was panicking. Despite that, you found it so exciting watching how into it she was, finding yourself engrossed in her gameplay.

“Come on, you got this,” you muttered under your breath, placing your hands on her hips. “You’re better than them.”

She was way too focused to reply, but you did notice a subtle shift in her posture as she moved forward even more. Her hands were no longer shaking at all, it looked like she was at least somewhat calm and in control now. You gave her hips a tiny little squeeze, reminding her that you were here with her.

The final engagement began. Once again, you were extremely grateful that the last opponent was terrible as mistake after mistake eventually led to Sakura being in a position of sure victory. As one opponent remained, she forgot about all the mechanics of the game and just pressed forward with seemingly nothing but a prayer going on in her head.

“Yes!” she squealed as the word ‘victory’ flashed on the screen.

“I never doubted for a second!” you cheered, squeezing her tightly from behind. “Knew you had it in you!”

Her heavy breaths and limp body made it seem like she had just run a marathon.

“Thanks,” she sighed, leaning backwards on your chest and rubbing your arms with her hands.

“What for? I didn’t do anything.”

“For believing in me,” she laughed, turning her head sideways to give you a kiss. “I didn’t even believe in myself.”

“Oh, well I did have some extra motivation,” she whispered, tightening your grip on her waist. “What were you saying you would do if I won this game again?”

She squirmed a bit, grinding her ass on your crotch very intentionally now.

“I think I said if you win,” she teased. “Last I checked, I’m the one who one.”

“Is that how we’re playing it?”

“I don’t make the rules.”

“Fine,” you said while sliding your hand towards her crotch, gently pressing down on the fabric of her pants. “Play one more game, if you can win again then I’ll do anything you want for the rest of the night.”

“And what if I lose?” she asked while starting the queue.

“You’re going to get a little punishment,” you whispered into her ear while pressing harder on her crotch, making little circles. “But you’re not going to lose, right?”

“R-Right,” she stammered, getting flustered by your touch.

As soon as the game started, you slipped your hand into her pants.

“Ah,” she gasped, “you know, you’re making it really hard to focus.”

“Am I?” you asked innocently, playing with her underwear. There was a growing wet spot, and the more you played with her the bigger it grew. “You did the same to me,” you dismissed her complaint. “It’s almost like I want you to lose.”

It was admirable how she was trying to ignore the stimulation, but her body simply could not hide how she really felt. Her soft, wet folds felt remarkable, even through her underwear. You gently moved your fingers around, smiling as she failed miserably in the game while her pussy got warmer from your touch.

The game so far was a complete stomp, not that you cared at all. At this point, you had slipped your hand into her underwear, rubbing her wetness around between your fingers. You had Sakura squirming like a puppet while you gently played with her clit, toying at the idea of slipping a finger into her pussy. It never happened, even as the game neared the end, you just kept teasing her with your fingertip pressing against her entrance.

“That’s not fair,” she whined as ‘defeat’ covered the screen. “You cheated.”

“Sorry, I don’t make the rules,” you teased back. “Looks like you lost.”

She squeezed her legs together in an attempt to get some reprieve from your fingers.

“What’s the little punishment?” she moaned as you kept trying to move your hand back and forth despite her tightly clenched thighs holding your wrist.

“Don’t think of it as a punishment for you,” you answered, standing up and removing your hand from Sakura’s pants. You brought your finger up to her mouth, letting her taste herself, while with your other hand you pressed down on her upper back until she was bent over her desk. “Think of it as more of a reward for me.”

“And what’s your reward?” Sakura asked, turning her head to look over her shoulder back at you.

“You’re my reward,” you replied, sliding both of your hands down the front of her waistband, feeling her body closely as you slid your hands around her hips until you reached either side of her body. In a single motion, you yanked down both her pants and underwear, letting them fall into a heap at her ankles.

Sakura stepped out of the clothes, kicking them to the side before swaying her ass side to side for you, giving you a show as you freed yourself of your own pants. She thought she knew exactly what was about to happen, but what she didn’t expect was the loud crack of your palm spanking her ass, sending ripples down her thighs.

“Oh!” she gasped in shock, looking back at you again.

“That’s because you’re still wearing a shirt.”

“I’m sorry babe,” Sakura stripped the shirt off before immediately bending over the desk again.

“Good,” you brought your palm down again, this time to her other cheek, eliciting another high pitched squeal from the girl. Without even lifting your palm up from her ass, you slid it up her body, feeling her toned back meticulously, wrapping your hand around her body and cupping her left tit in your fingers. “Ready to get fucked?” you whispered into her ear from behind while pinching her nipple between your fingers.

“Ah,” Sakura’s shriek pierced your ears as she jolted violently at your touch. “Fucking punish me babe.”

Your cock was itching to enter Sakura, practically begging as it twitched. You let go of her nipple, slapped her ass with your hand again and spread her cheek. With your other hand, you lined your cock up with her pussy, getting ready to take what you so desperately desired.

“Wait,” Sakura reached over and opened the top drawer of her desk, pulling out a small bottle that she held for you to take.

“Why do you-” you paused, accepting the bottle before you realized what was going on. “Oh.”

“If you’re going to punish me, punish me properly,” Sakura moaned, reaching back with both hands to spread her ass for you.

Your girlfriend spoke to you in ways no one else could, she did something to you that just drove you to be absolutely psychotic for her. The view of her bent ninety degrees over her desk reaching back with both hands to present her asshole to you was driving you absolutely feral. Taking Sakura in the ass was usually saved for special occasions; It was always an astounding experience.

Did you know why today was a special occasion? No. Did you care? No. Were your hands trembling in anticipation as you opened the bottle of lube? Yes. You flipped the bottle over and squeezed a hefty dollop of lube at the top of Sakura’s ass, letting it spill down slowly. It was difficult to stay patient, but you took your time to make sure she was completely slick, using your hand to spread the lube thoroughly.

Her soft ass, glistening as you massaged the lube into it, felt like heaven between your fingers. You could tell she was getting excited, but Sakura stayed silent, committing to the bit. She wasn’t about to show you her elation - this was a punishment after all.

It was, however, a punishment only by name. You knew how much Sakura loved taking it in the ass, so you wanted to make sure she actually enjoyed it to her full potential. Once you were satisfied with how slippery and shiny her body had become, you wiped whatever was left on your hand across your shaft. The idea of lubing up your cock as well immediately disappeared when you noticed Sakura’s pussy was literally dripping at this point.

After lining up behind her, in one slow and continuous motion, you pushed your cock into Sakura’s pussy until your thighs pressed into her soft ass. You held your cock balls deep in her for just a couple of seconds before moving back equally as slowly, leaving Sakura moaning as your cock left her pussy.

Her pussy, ever so slightly spread now, was glistening before you. Part of you wanted to go back in, but your true objective was lubed up staring right at you. Sakura’s tight asshole was begging for your cock at this point, welcoming your cock. You gave yourself a couple of quick strokes, spreading Sakura’s wetness on your cock before you pressed your tip against her hole.

“Push back,” you commanded her, your tip just slightly spreading her tight asshole apart.

As she leaned back, the slickness of your bodies ended up flinging your cock upwards, slotting it between Sakura’s ass cheeks. You gave her ass another hard spank, as if it was her fault, before lining yourself up with her asshole again.

“Again.”

This time, you held your cock more firmly, letting Sakura do the work once more. It felt fucking divine as your cock disappeared into her asshole inch by inch. She kept pushing back, slowly but surely pushing into almost your entire cock was up her ass. She was tight - unbelievably tight - but it was perfect.

“There we go,” you groaned as you started pumping your hips into her steadily.

Sakura was clearly struggling, even with all the lube, but she never complained or stopped. She moved her hips as much as she could, trying to match your pace at least to some degree. The two of you ended up working together, fighting against the tightness of her asshole as it was sending electric shocks up your spine, the tightness and heat combining in a beautiful mosaic of pleasure, attacking all the nerves in your cock.

The view was equally as beautiful. Sakura’s toned back staring right at you, the way her head dipped down each time your cock pressed forward, her shoulder blades retracting as her arms stretched out, it was all so surreal. Despite her obvious struggle, it was clear that she was enjoying herself, confirmed by one of her hand’s slipping down between her legs.

Her asshole kept taking your cock for a bit longer. Her pussy, with the help of her fingers, launched droplets of her wetness down her inner legs. She was a complete mess at this point, her lower body completely soaked. Her legs even began to tremble slightly.

The signs of her pleasure just gave you all the more motivation to start pushing deeper. Each time you pushed your cock into her ass, you were nearly going all the way. With how well she was taking it now, nothing could hold you back as you started thrusting faster and harder, easing her into more intensity. That was until you had a new idea.

“Turn your webcam on,” you instructed her, pausing your thrusting for a second.

Sakura reached for the mouse, navigating her way through menus while your cock was still balls deep in her asshole. Each time she was about to click, you gave a little half thrust, making her miss again and again.

“Fuck off,” she moaned, desperately clicking until she got the webcam open. “Now what?”

“Fullscreen it, I wanna watch your face while I fuck you.”

She tried to follow your command, but your cock was ready to go and you had started pumping her tight little asshole properly now. She got absolutely no reprieve, not an ounce of amnesty as your cock invaded her body over and over again.

“I can’t fucking…” she cried out before giving up on trying to click entirely, remembering she could fullscreen it by pressing ‘F’ on the keyboard. She slammed her hand against the keys, finally succeeding.

“Good girl,” you taunted her, pausing again to give her ass another hefty slap.

Sakura began checking herself out in the webcam, trying to fix her hair while your hand squeezed and groped her asscheek. You pushed your cock back and forth slowly, enjoying the tight grip of her asshole, watching as Sakura’s face strained itself in a mix of pleasure and struggle. Once she was content with how her hair looked, she bent forward, putting her elbows on the desk.

“The whole point was so I can watch you get fucked,” you grunted as your cock got closer and closer to your orgasm, grabbing a handful of her hair and yanking it back roughly while making sure not to actually hurt her, forcing her head back.

“Then hurry up and fuck me,” she moaned, leaving her mouth open while her head was controlled by the grip you had on her hair. “Fucking cum in my ass already.”

With your free hand, you gave her ass yet another hard slap - this one echoed in the room. You could see Sakura’s reaction so vividly - she definitely felt that one. At this point though, you actually didn’t care. You let go of her hair and grabbed her ass with both hands, struggling to get a proper grip because of all the lube and sweat coating her skin, but you pressed your fingers hard into her soft ass, gripping whatever you could.

Now, with your new support, you could give each thrust the entire force of your body. Each slam sent Sakura’s entire body shaking, threatening to break the desk she was so desperately clinging onto. There was a constant barrage of noises escaping Sakura’s lips combined with the burning pleasure flooding your cock as Sakura’s asshole brought you dangerously close to your orgasm.

It was impossible to stop now. Your vision was going blurry, your extremities were going numb, all the sensation in the world was being split between your ears and your cock. Her moans, her squeals, the constant porn-star level screams and shouts, muffled only in part by the sound of skin on skin whenever your cock jammed itself into her tight ass.

There wasn’t much left in the tank, you were starting to lose strength as you rode the brink of your orgasm for as long as you could. You were hyperventilating at this point, using every remaining ounce your body could muster to keep going, to keep pumping your beautifully tight girlfriend.

At long last, your cock began exploding inside Sakura’s ass. The overwhelming pleasure froze your entire body, sending two or three more torrents of cum deep into her body. Once the most intense moment passed, you coaxed the rest of your cum out by pumping her ass again, moving your hips more slowly and methodically now, timing each thrust with each spurt of cum.

Finally you looked back up, leaving your cock embedded balls deep in Sakura’s ass. She had let her head fall again, her shoulders bouncing up and down with each heavy breath she took. Her hands, balled up in fists, were still trembling on the desk as you grabbed her hair, twisting your hand to get a handful of it, and pulled back so that she was extending her neck backwards. You forcefully pressed your mouth against her slightly parted lips, her warm breath hitting you.

“I’m never getting tired of this,” you moaned into her mouth. “I fucking love you, my little cherry blossom.”

“I love you… too…” she panted back, still struggling to breathe.

It was finally time, as your cock began to soften, to pull out. With a hand on her ass, you pulled your hips back. It was like watching a dam burst with how much cum gushed out of her asshole as soon as you removed your cock.

“Fucking hell,” you panted, sitting down on the floor and scooting back so that your back was resting against the base of Sakura’s bed. In front of you, Sakura was still bent over her desk with her ass up, using her arms to hold herself up as the bend of her knees made it clear her legs could no longer hold her body up. It was quite the view for you to enjoy, watching as your cum slowly dripped out of Sakura’s asshole and onto the floor. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Sakura answered softly. “But my ass is killing me right now.”

“Come here.”

Sakura pushed herself up off the desk with her arms before turning around, gingerly walking over to you. She lowered herself to the ground, sitting next to you on her side to prevent her ass from touching the floor, leaning against you with her arms around your torso.

“You were such a trooper tonight,” you whispered gently as you wrapped your arm around her body before giving her a kiss. You very lightly slipped your hand between her cheeks, using one finger to massage her asshole. “Does that feel better?”

“Mhmm,” she moaned cutely.

“Good,” you kissed the top of her head as you ran circles around her asshole with your finger.

“Want me to clean your cock off?” Sakura asked casually, sliding one hand down and giving you a couple of playful pumps.

“It’s alright, you’ve done enough for me already.”

“I always do this,” Sakura completely ignored your denial, bending forward over your lap, pausing for just a second to look back at you. “Please only one finger tonight.”

Even though you couldn’t see past the back of her head, you could vividly feel the warmth of her mouth the second she put your cock into her mouth. She sucked your cock with no regard for how filthy the act was, she had absolutely no hesitation - that was probably the hottest part of it all. You let her do her work while your body came back to life, somehow after all that you could feel your cock stiffening yet again.

As per her request, you carefully inserted just your middle finger a knuckle deep into her asshole, being as slow and cautious as possible. You paused for a second when you felt her mouth stop moving, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. Once you felt her tongue start swirling around your cock again, you started to gently massage the inside of her asshole.

The mixture of lube, cum, tightness, and warmth felt surprisingly nice on your finger. Hopefully it felt equally nice for Sakura, the girl deserved it with how much enthusiasm she was putting into sucking your cock right now. Her tongue was working overtime, licking every single bit of your shaft, while her lips moved up and down your tip rapidly.

It all happened so fast, without warning you felt a sudden rush of sensation in your cock. Within seconds, you felt your cum launch directly into Sakura’s mouth with the force of a bullet. You were paralyzed briefly as your cock began spewing cum all over her mouth, filling her to the point of overflow, the warm goo mixed with Sakura’s saliva began landing on your crotch.

“Oh my fucking God,” you gasped, regaining consciousness.

“Fin’er,” Sakura moaned at you as she turned her head to face you, a gush of white spilling out of her lips.

“What?” you asked, before realizing you had shoved your finger all the way into her asshole. “Oh!” you gasped before quickly pulling it out.

Sakura gulped heavily, wiping the tears from her eyes as the cum that didn’t spill onto her chin rushed down her throat. She lay her head down on your legs, her cheek against your thigh.

“That really fucking hurt,” she whined. “And no warning?”

“My ba-”

“Have I been punished enough for my actions yet?” she asked, pouting her lips at you.

“Yes, your punishment is over,” you smiled at her, grabbing your limp cock and placing it on her face playfully.

She smiled at you adorable before giving your cock a quick kiss and getting up to her feet.

“We’re both messes,” she stated, looking back over her shoulder and spreading her ass, letting some more remnants of your cum spill to the floor. “I’m not ‘cleaning’ you up out here again, not after that. You can join me in the shower if you want my help this time.”

“Sorry about the finger,” you apologized.

“Don’t worry about it,” she laughed proudly. “With how much you filled my mouth with, I can’t even be upset that you lost control.”

“I don’t know what happened, all of a sudden I just…”

“You’re welcome,” Sakura giggled, leaning down and kissing your cheek before turning around and walking gleefully towards the bathroom.

All you could do was stare at her glistening ass as it jiggled with every step, really taking in the fact that Sakura has been your girlfriend for almost a year at this point. In your eyes, she was perfect, she was everything you wanted in a girl. You couldn’t imagine a life without her being there by your side as your partner.

After a few seconds, you heard the shower turn on in the bathroom. As you got up to join her, you noticed something on the computer screen that must have happened when she was trying to fullscreen the webcam - she had started a recording.

---

A/N:

Ask and you shall receive, thank you for those who voted in that poll! I might end up doing polls every now and then again because you guys responded so well to it, and it absolutely motivated me to work on this fic. That being said, keep it up, I can't stress enough how much I love all the support my readers show, I'll continue to read every comment/message/etc.!

Random Sakura chapter. Well, random for you guys, I knew about this one coming of course. Hope you guys like it, this one took me a tiny bit longer than expected, partially because of life being busy, but mostly because I just couldn't quite figure out how I wanted to write some stuff out in this one. Regardless, it's done now, I'm too lazy to spend days proofreading and editing it.

[romanteacism]

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader Innocent Touch

Synopsis: You and Ser Aemond are starting to come into a routine and each other's good graces until it is rudely abrupted. Warnings: None (yet), Aemond growing fonder of his station, ¿infatuation?, Slight Jealousy PREVIOUS PART / NEXT PART

“Who is this from?” You asked as a squire handed you another bouquet of flowers. Aemond resisted rolling his eyes as he watched you toy with the petals. He stood behind you as you and your brother sat in the gardens. “Lord Triston, Your Highness,” The squire bowed as he left. “I did not know Lord Tristan was courting you,” Your brother frowned and reached forward to take hold of the scroll placed in the middle of the bouquet. 

“This is the fifth one in three days; it’s quite excessive, is it not?” You pondered as you placed the bouquet on the side, not keen on the smell of roses. You turned to your brother, waiting for his response, but he was too busy reading the scroll— you would guess another poem that he had plagiarized from one of the great poets of the realm. “It’s quite a… bold poem he chose,” your brother frowned, and you shrugged, taking a bite of berries and cream cake. “Since when had he started courting you? I do not remember him asking for Father or I’s permission,” He stated, and you shrugged once more. “He began to send flowers, I believe, a week or so ago?” You said uncertain. “Do I recount right, Ser Aemond?” You turned to your knight for confirmation, slowly warming up to him once more as he had aided in a time of desperation. 

“Yes, princess.” He nodded, and your brother turned his gaze upon your sworn protector, seeing his stoic expression severe into a scowl. “I think it best you keep your distance from Lord Tristan,” Your brother said, glancing over the flowers he sent as well as the rather forward poem he had given. “Very well then,” You agreed, not at all attracted to the young lord who was known for his reputation as a rake.

“See to it that the lord does not bother my sister, Ser Aemond,” Your brother commanded as he stood. “Of course, my prince,” Ser Aemond bowed, agreeing without question as he, too, was unsettled by the lord’s quite fervent attention towards you. He had been noticing lord Tristan trailing you for the past few days, even going as far as walking down the halls of your wing at night. Of course, Aemond always stood guard, ready to challenge the lord. 

“I’ll see you at supper, sister,” your brother said, placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head before leaving. As he left, you placed a lemon tart onto a plate and raised it to offer to your knight. “No, thank you, princess. I had just eaten,” He said, and you nodded. 

“Was lady Davenport present during the last tea party I held?” You questioned Ser Aemond as your memory seemed to fail you, but you had learned your knight had a rather sharp one. “I do not believe so, princess,” He replied, trailing his eye around the gardens as he noticed the distant figure of lord Tristan staring at you from above. “Hm, this is the second session she has missed… I noticed that she has been absent in court as of late,” You mussed, not expecting a reply from your knight as you thought out loud. 

“I hear whispers that the lady Davenport is hiding a swollen belly beneath her dress,” Your knight then said, making your eyes widen, and you turned your body to look at him from where he stood behind you. Aemond bit his tongue as he saw the expression on your face. He does not care for gossip, but he did find your reactions to it quite amusing. “But she is not set to marry until a fortnight.” Ser Aemond shrugged as he imparted the talk he heard from the maids. You let out a breath of a laugh. “I always thought her intended was quite the traditionalist,” you muttered, and Aemond smirked, pondering if he should share the next piece of information he had overheard. “He is… but his brother is proven not.” He quietly added and bit his lip. “No!” You gasped in disbelief, turning to Ser Aemond once more, only for him to shrug again. “Again, these are only whispers I hear, princess,” He said, and you narrowed your eyes as an amused smirk rose to his lips that he could not control as he spoke. 

When Aemond removed his gaze from you, he noticed lord Tristan making his way towards your direction. “Princess, you are late for your meeting with your seamstress,” You turned towards the sun and saw that it was past its peak, “Oh, yes, of course,” You said and stood, going in the direction of your chambers and Aemond content as lord Tristan missed your presence. 

Ser Aemond stood guard outside your chambers as you were fitted for your gowns, passing his gaze through the hall and watching intently all the passersby. He clenched his jaw as he saw lord Tristan standing at the end of the hall, observing the commissioned portraits of you that were made each year for your name day. Aemond resisted the urge to roll his eye as lord Tristan inched his way towards your chambers. Aemond wore his most formidable expression as he was met with the lord. “I wish to seek an audience with the princess,” He said, voice dismissive. “The princess does not wish to be disturbed.” Ser Aemond replied curtly. 

He watched as the lord raised a pompous brow. “I do not believe you understood what I said— I seek an audience with the princess.” He gritted, and Aemond’s hold at the hilt of his sword tigtened. “I understand perfectly. It is you who does not comprehend that the princess does not wish to be disturbed.” Aemond resisted succumbing to his urges and showed great animosity towards the young lord. 

The door to your chambers opened, hindering either man from speaking. Your seamstress exited, and Aemond was quick to hinder the lord, who seemed to forget any sense of manners as he tried to force himself into the sanctity of your chambers. “My lord?” You questioned and turned to Ser Aemond, who had a deep scowl on his face. “Princess— I wish to speak with you,” lord Tristan bowed and threw a glare at your knight. “Oh, I am not receiving company at the moment, my lord. I—I wish to be alone.” You say quietly. “Have you received the flowers I sent?” The lord ignored your words, and Aemond’s jaw ticked as you two locked eyes, seeing apprehension in your gaze. “I have, thank you, lord Tristan… but if you would excuse me,” You curtsied and moved to close your door. Leaving your knight and the rather audacious lord. 

Aemond felt a pompous smirk rise to his lips as you shut and barred your door, the hopefulness in the lord’s eyes disappearing quickly. Aemond bit his lip as lord Tristan walked off in a huff. When you hear his departing footsteps, you unbarred your door and peeked your head out. “Is he gone?” You quietly asked your knight, staring up at him, “Yes, princess,” Aemond nodded, and you fully opened your chamber door. “He’s quite… boorish,” You muttered and took your kitten into your arms, cradling it as if it were a babe as you walked through the halls with your knight. “He certainly is, princess,” he agreed, looking towards the kitten who he had hidden days before. There was a glare in the feline’s eyes as Theodore was familiar with the man who had placed him in the confines of the mouth of a gargoyle. 

You hear your little kitten suddenly hiss, making you frown and run your fingers soothingly through your pet’s fur. “What’s wrong, my darling?” You cooed, looking down at Theodore, who continued to hiss. You doubled your efforts in trying to calm him, unaware that the man beside you was the reason for the agitated state of your kitten. You placed a kiss on his little head, and that seemed to be effective. Theodore slowly calmed down. Aemond bit his lip as he feared that his desperate actions would be known by you— implausible since no one bore witness to his actions, but you would certainly question why your pet would be upset whenever in the presence of Aemond.

You were too distracted as you tried to soothe your kitten, growing unaware of your surroundings and where you walked. Aemond sighed as this was a frequent occurrence; he circled his arm around your waist and guided your way. He bit his tongue as he was enveloped with your scent. At your close proximity, Ser Aemond scowled at the continuation of whining from your kitten. Aemond led you to your solarium, arm growing cold as he removed his hold from your waist. He stood guard by the door and listened to you cooing at your kitten. 

Ser Aemond stood straighter as he heard footsteps revealing your brother. “Is my sister in?” He questioned, and Aemond nodded curtly. “My prince,” He called before your brother entered. “Lord Tristan had been proved rather ungallant… just earlier today, he tried to force himself into the chambers of the princess to seek an audience with her even though he was told that she wishes to be alone.” Aemond had no trouble in tattling. He saw a severe frown on your brother’s face, and only when the prince frowned did Aemond finally see the resemblance between you and the prince. The prince hummed, thinking of a way to protect you further; it was silently known by the court that lord Tristan was persistent— stopping at nothing to acquire anything he wanted, and he usually resorts to ill ways to achieve it. 

“My sister’s safety is of utmost importance, Ser Aemond,” Aemond nodded, “I know… and I agree, my prince,” He agreed. “I shall have no choice but to add another guard to her station,” Aemond stilled at the prince’s words. “My—my prince, I am fully capable of protecting the princess,” He said, almost defensively. Your brother’s eyes widened, fearing that he had offended the knight. “Yes, of course— I would not entrust my sister in your care if you are incapable, but with lord Tristan sniffing around her, I fear you would need aid.” Aemond bit back his tongue, not wanting to speak out of turn. “Ser Adam shall accompany you during the day as an added guard to my sister, so no more run-ins like earlier shall occur.” Aemond gritted his teeth and gave a reluctant nod before opening the door for the prince. 

The following day, Aemond stood guard by your door and waited for you to start your morning. He stiffened at his spot as he heard the clank of armor and the image of Ser Adam taking his post on the other side of your door, a teasing smirk on his lips as he saw Aemond's annoyed face. “Ser Aemond,” He nodded in greeting, “Ser Adam,” Aemond gritted in reluctant courtesy. You opened your chamber doors, and two knights straightened their stances. You looked between your two guards, “Good morrow, Sers,” You greeted and walked off, your kitten in your arms and your two guards following you as you made your way to the gardens. 

The once soothing clang of Ser Aemond’s armor as he walked now turned into an annoying bang as his steps were matched with Ser Adam's. You looked down upon your pet cat, who rested calmly in your arms, still drowsy from his sleep. Aemond noticed your attention was placed on your kitten was more and placed his hand on the small of your back to lead your way, as always. Aemond caught the gaze of Ser Adam, the secondary knight raising a quizzical brow at him, but Aemond did his best to ignore his presence, trying to pretend that it was only you and him, just like days before. 

When in the gardens, Aemond moved to assist you to your chair, but Ser Adam beat him to it. He gritted his jaw as the kind ‘thanks’ that was meant to him was addressed to the other knight. As the day went on with Ser Adam accompanying the both of you— you offering him the same refreshments and chatter as Aemond and even gossiping with him, Aemond felt an odd twisting in his stomach that he did not care for. It was as if fire ants were crawling and biting at his skin, and some strong hand was twisting his gut and possibly even his heart. 

“Good night, Ser Adam,” You smiled as the knight went to retire for the night, much to Aemond’s relief. You and your sworn protector walked the halls to your room, and you noticed that he had been rather rigged the whole day— nothing odd, but you did notice that he was starting to unclench the past few days. “You’re scowling.” You mused as you two turned a hallway; Aemond glanced at you who observed his expression. “Am I, princess?” He asked, knowing full well he was.  Aemond feigned confused, as he did not want his annoyance to be revealed. “You are; you’ve had that line between your brows the whole day,” You say, and stood at the tip of your toes and trying to smoothen the furrow between his brows.

Aemond froze at your actions that were not mediated and thought about by yourself, forgetting your sensibilities as you invaded your knight’s personal space. You froze as you realized what you had done, quickly backing away, your cheeks heating at your actions, and felt embarrassment course through your veins. “I… I apologize,” you say, your voice just a squeak, and you hurriedly turn on your heels as you rush toward your chambers. Aemond battled through his shock and followed you through your chambers, the both of you uttering a quick and awkward ‘good night’ before you disappeared behind your door. 

Aemond stood at his post, breathing ragged as his hand fingers went to where you left your soft and burning touch. Aemond tried to calm his breathing, dismayed by his reaction. It was just an innocent touch, nothing to fuss over about, is it not? He rested the back of his head on the cold stone and tried not to let his thoughts be consumed by you even more. 

[hedgehog-moss]

The blueberry tart moral quandary has been very fun to ponder! Thank you for sharing it with us. I think the real question, however, is what each of your animals would think about ordering two slices of tart under the circumstances

You're right, that IS the true question here. Let's situate this in a universe where blueberry tart is safe & delicious to eat for all animal species.

CHICKENS. The chickens would definitely want that second helping of tart because chickens live in a solipsistic moral universe and would hesitate to share tart even if it was their dying sister's last wish. However if you place two slices of tart on the ground for 2 chickens, they will immediately and violently start fighting each other over the same slice, thus giving you the opportunity to discreetly retrieve the first slice for yourself. Moreover, if a chicken manages to break off half of the slice and starts running like hell to go eat it elsewhere in peace, the other chicken will take off after her instead of eating the other half happily by herself. If they then break this half in two while fighting over it, they will resume fighting over that half of the half, allowing you to retrieve 3/4 of the second slice. And so on. This is Zeno's paradox applied to chickens and tart: the hens will spend the rest of eternity fighting over diminishing crumbs while you get almost all of the second slice back (albeit broken in increasingly minuscule halves.)

CATS. Not only would the cats want that second slice regardless of who else wants it, they would also sit & start grooming themselves on the rest of the pie with great serenity, rendering it inedible for anyone else. However, my original post established that the pies were under large bell jars. Two of my three cats are (to their everlasting torment) stymied by this sadistic human invention. If the bell jar is heavy enough that you can't push it off the table (a popular strategy), then Mascarille and Merricat will just circle it a few times, ram their faces into the glass, do a full body swipe against it in case this might open a secret door, and then walk away in frustration. Morille on the other hand is a cat possessed of extreme patience, diabolical intelligence and acute interest in forbidden food. She will get the tart no matter how long she has to lie in wait.

DOG. Pandolf would not want a second slice or even a first one, if he is made to understand that this might make other people sad. The thing with Pandolf is, he can smell disappointment. His great big nose picks up on every particle of human disappointment in the air and they go straight to his heart. He is also too polite to even defend his bone from thieving chickens. There's no way he would claim any tart at all unless someone gave it to him and made it clear they would be happy for him to eat it. However Pandolf is very cute when he sits there with a lolling tongue, happy for others to have a good time, and there is also no way one or several persons wouldn't give him their slice of tart. He would definitely end up with tart.

LLAMAS. Pampelune is the matriarch and since her duties involve dying to protect her herd in case of predator attacks, she considers it her prerogative to eat first and as much as she damn pleases in compensation. She would get two slices. I believe Poldine would choose to have only one slice and kiss everyone in the restaurant on the cheek for good measure, and I also believe she would actually get zero tart. As shown in the salt video, Poldine understands her place in the pasture hierarchy (the one who eats last) and has to resort to subterfuge to get even 1 lick of salt while others are gorging themselves. She will be very dependent on other people's temperance and decency to get any tart (so, Pandolf is her best bet.) Meanwhile Pampérigouste is trying to figure out how to escape the restaurant undetected to go on an adventure while the sheeple are talking about tart. She will get one or two or three slices but only if they can facilitate her various stratagems (for example, to bribe a guard at the door.)

The FISH—do not have the cognitive abilities to worry about morals but more importantly, do not experience soul-deep desires in the way the birds and mammals in this list do. My fish live in a smooth and quiet world where the gods make food rain from the sky every day. In this luminescent existence of untroubled abundance their capacity for longing has atrophied. They do not understand what wanting tart means, let alone the complex philosophical agonies humans can put themselves through when faced with culinary conundrums.

DONKEY. Pirlouit's first instinct would be to claim all the tart he can eat and then some. However donkeys and fish sit at opposite ends of the philosophical spectrum; Pirlouit strikes me as an animal who would be interested in exploring the ethical ramifications of the issue, as an intellectual exercise. 70% of his life consists in quiet deep ponderings. I think Pirlouit could get distracted ruminating the blueberry tart quandary in light of the rich philosophical heritage of donkey civilisation, and arrive too late to get any tart by the time he determined whether one or two slices is the right answer. Kind of like that time he got distracted by his need for revenge and was late for breakfast and the llamas had already claimed the hay.

IN CONCLUSION.

[pumpkinbxtch]

Hi!! I loved your aftercare hcs! Could I do a request where the reader is babysitting Estelle for the night since Paul and Sally have gone on a date and Percy comes home and finds reader and Estelle asleep cuddled up together?

girl's night

• the reader babysits Estelle and Percy finds them asleep.

— percy jackson x mortal!reader

warnings: none

a/n: hello! What a nice request, I hope I did it justice. 😭 Also, thank you!

It all started with a:

— Yes, Mrs. Jackson. I'll be there, don't worry.

Because it was your chance to gain Sally Jackson's trust. People who know her know that this opportunity is like gold, something not even a god would dare mess up or decline. But beyond that (since she was practically your mother-in-law), you cared about something else: Estelle.

Your boyfriend’s little sister. She was tiny, still unsteady on her feet, but already full of energy, and you loved the idea of bonding with her from such a young age. So, that's how you ended up agreeing to babysit her for a night while Sally and Paul went out on a date, which you thought was admirable and exemplary, that romance never dies even after starting a family.

You wondered for a moment if life with Percy would be like that too. Despite his life as a demigod and the differences between how you two were raised, you could see his dream of living peacefully, surrounded by his loved ones. You wanted to believe that when he talked about those hopes, you were included, and of course, you were.

You wished he could be with you, but not even Percy knew you were going to babysit Estelle. You saw him too worried about godly issues and his college graduation, even though he was on break. But you knew that life never stopped and you didn’t mind as long as he let you help, even if it was just by listening.

— Darling! — Sally Jackson exclaimed as she opened the apartment door, and you stood there, mouth agape. She looked stunning in a red dress, reminiscent of that movie "Me Before You." Paul peeked through the door while adjusting one of his funny ties.

— Mrs. Jackson — She chuckled, preferring you to call her Sally, but you couldn’t drop the formalities.

They showed you what there was to eat, talked a bit about Estelle’s schedule, but after that, they just looked at you with a confident smile.

— You'll do great, dear — Paul said, kissing Sally's forehead. You couldn’t understand how they could entrust you with their most precious thing without giving strict rules.

— Her bedtime? — The question seemed funny because they just shook their heads.

— Estelle doesn't struggle much with sleep; it’ll be obvious when she’s tired.

And when they left the apartment, you looked behind you. There she was, waving her tiny hand while giggling.

— It's just us, Estelle — You said, sitting next to her as she kept watching something on TV, something more important than your obvious nervousness.

You wondered if she would just watch the screen the whole time, if you only had to give her snacks when she got hungry and make sure she slept at a decent hour. You were pondering this when you felt a tug on your hand. You looked at her, and she was shaking some coloring pages and a worn-out crayon. Where had she gotten that? When?

She said something you wanted to interpret as, "Let's color, and you'll like it, or I'll tell everyone you're no the one for my brother." Well, maybe not, but it felt like that.

You picked her up and took her to the wooden table where the family usually had dinner, making her comfortable with some pillows to adjust her height. But even then, Estelle stood up and started coloring.

You had your own page and couldn’t remember the last time you colored, so your hand moved a bit clumsily, and being so focused, you didn’t see her hand make you go out of the lines. You looked at her, and she grinned widely, but you knew she didn’t do it on purpose; she was just calling you to see her progress, a scribbled bear with at least five different colors. You smiled genuinely and gave her a thumbs-up, which she took as the best critique of her art.

The night went like that, and you never thought such a small child could teach you so much.

When you made cookies, seeing her face reminded you of the joy in just making them, not so much eating them or how they turned out.

When you watched her favorite cartoons, you remembered what it was like to watch something without guilt or the worry that you should be doing something better or more productive.

When she decided she wanted to dance, you remembered that music could be missing, but never the attitude and good moves.

Estelle ended up holding your hand as you regularly straightened the cushions and rug, making sure nothing was too messy. When you smiled, she did too, and she didn’t let go of you all night.

Finishing up washing the dishes, you looked down to see Estelle next to your feet, sitting on the floor playing with some toys while waiting for you. You stopped to watch her for a moment, seeing so much of Sally in her, but also unmistakable traits of Paul, and in her attitude, you saw Percy. Maybe because he was her big brother after all. Estelle brought her little feet together and touched her toes, lost in whatever a child her age might be thinking when you saw her rub her eyes. That was your signal.

— Estelle — You called softly, and she looked at you with sleepy, shiny eyes. You extended your arms, and she got up to do the same, and you picked her up, rocking her, but she seemed to realize what you were trying to do.

— No — She said clearly. You were startled as she hid her face in your neck, clinging to you. You weren’t an expert, but you knew what it meant, so you sat down with her on the couch, placing her properly on your lap.

— It’s okay — You lied, feeling bad about it even though you knew you had to. You put on a new movie to make her think she’d stay awake, but your trick was to make her fall asleep, though you didn’t plan on falling asleep yourself. You hugged her and got comfortable, the best cuddle ever because she kept holding onto you as you slowly closed your eyes.

You never heard the key in the lock, the quiet footsteps on the floor, nor the warm greeting from your boyfriend, who wasn’t expecting to find you cuddled up with Estelle on the couch, sleeping soundly.

— Babe? — He asked softly, checking to see if you were really asleep. He set the keys down and took off his hoodie, dirtied from some... incidents.

His blue eyes scanned the apartment for his mom or Paul but found no sign of them, leading him to realize why you were there. He walked over to you two with quiet steps until he was face to face with an image no one could take from him. Two of his favorite people, seemingly fond of each other, filled his heart with love, and he kissed both your foreheads. Unfortunately, you woke up, and he couldn’t help but pout.

— Sorry — You mumbled, blurry-eyed and disoriented from your nap, realizing it was Percy. He was smiling, kneeling at your level.

— Percy — You murmured, rubbing your eyes and feeling another weight on your chest, going rigid as you remembered. Your boyfriend noticed your fear of waking her. He extended his arms and picked up Estelle so you could get up normally.

— Having fun without me? — He asked with his sister on his chest, rocking to keep her in the land of Hypnos. You stretched, smiling sleepily.

— There was no way to tell you — He nodded, seeing your phone on the carpet, feeling a bit bad for not being able to carry a phone to stay in touch. He often spent days away, and no one knew where he was, not even you.

— I’ll put Estelle to bed — He whispered, and you nodded, struggling to keep your eyes open in his direction, making him chuckle. Before leaving, he leaned in with his sister in his arms to kiss you.

— Be right back.

You nodded and stood to check the living room. You only had to straighten the cushions and put the chairs back in place before Percy hugged you from behind. At his touch, you hummed, feeling a wave of sleepiness brought on by the calm of having him there, finally safe.

— Hey — He greeted, still whispering, and you rested your head on his shoulder, giving him enough space to plant a warm kiss on your neck. With no immediate response from you, he held you tighter and kissed your cheek, wanting to support you so you didn’t have to put in so much effort.

— I’m okay — You said, realizing what he was trying to do, but he quickly lifted you bridal style, making his way back to the couch.

— Shh, I’ll take care of you. — He soothed while sitting with you, and you wrapped your arms around him, sharing your sleepiness. You rested your head on his chest, and he pulled the blanket from the corner to cover you both.

You sighed calmly, almost falling asleep when you sniffed your boyfriend's shirt once, twice, three times. Groggy, you kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear

— You smell like monster, Percy Jackson — He smiled, and you mirrored it.

— Things got tough — He said slowly, resting his cheek on your head, almost stumbling over words.

— Hmm — You hummed starting to fall asleep, and you both did it.

[suashii]

— 𝒷𝒶𝓈𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 ౨ৎ

matsukawa issei x reader. 1.1k wc. ﾉ suggestive fluff ﾉ after sex pillow talk but no smut ﾉ friends with benefits

“wanna go to a wedding with me?”

as casual as the question is, something feels just a tad bit strange about your timing. you hadn’t planned on asking him now—mere minutes after sharing your bodies with each other, your limbs still tangled with his. it doesn’t make for great pillow talk but if you don’t ask him now, you aren’t sure when the next opportunity will make itself known.

matsukawa laughs but it’s something closer to a snort. dark curls stick to the tanned skin of his forehead, damp with sweat. he tries to push the hair away from his face as he rolls onto his back. the new position creates a bit of space between you and robs you of the man’s warmth. you should be thankful for the chance to cool down but being in his arms is just so comfortable. 

chocolatey eyes focus on the ceiling with matsukawa’s counter-question. “isn’t that an occasion reserved for boyfriends?”

“you’re basically my boyfriend.”

the words tumble from your lips before you can even comprehend what you’re saying. you aren’t sure what compelled you to say that—“boyfriend” isn’t a title you’ve ever referred to him as and despite saying so right now, you’ve never truly thought of mattsun as your boyfriend either. still, you don’t take the words back, curious to see how he’ll respond.

“eh…” he makes a sound of disagreement, one that’s matter-of-factly but nowhere near malicious. “we have sex.”

it’s true; if either of you were asked to slap a label on your relationship, it would probably be one that reads, “friends that fuck.” emphasis on the latter. but you’d be a liar if you said that the line between friends and something else wasn’t beginning to blur.

the conversation makes you consider all the little things that have changed since the two of you started sleeping with each other, things that have come about as a result of something other than your friendship. your brows furrow as you silently compile a list of all those things. you’ve lost count by the time matsukawa’s voice cuts through the quiet air.

“what are you thinking about?”

you don’t mince your words. “how you’re basically my boyfriend.”

it’s not that you’re trying to push it, rather, that you’re coming to the realization yourself. you may find it just as weird as mattsun does.

“fine,” he sighs, but it’s more playful than exasperated. “i’ll bite.”

he rolls over on his side so that he’s facing you and props his head up on his arm. there’s humor and curiosity twinkling in the dark pools that are his eyes. being the sole subject of his gaze makes your skin prickle and all of a sudden you’re warming up again. “what about me is screaming boyfriend in that pretty little head of yours?”

“well,” you start, “you’re literally flirting with me right now. pretty little head?”

he shakes his head. “simply stating a fact.”

“whatever you say.” you ponder over your next piece of evidence. “we know the passcodes to each other’s apartments.”

he’s quick with his rebuttal. “all the guys know my passcode.”

“you’ve known them since high school.” you point at him accusingly, finger almost bumping the tip of his nose. you can feel the laugh he exhales through his nostrils. “it’s barely been three months since we’ve met.”

a beat of silence passes and then he nods. “got me there. what else?”

a grin pulls at your lips with his choice to concede. it encourages you to go on. “ok, you keep a change of clothes and a pair of pajamas in my dresser—and a toothbrush in my bathroom. you’ve practically started moving in.”

matsukawa doesn’t remember the moment he decided to bring any of that stuff over here or what possessed him to. convenience, he would imagine, but it speaks to how often he’s over your place, how frequently he lingers throughout the night and into the next morning. he’s only noticing it now, but he’s never done any of this with the hookups of his past. 

maybe you’re more than a hookup, he thinks. how much more, mattsun isn’t sure, but there’s certainly something different about you. you’re no one-night fling, not someone he calls just when he needs to relieve some stress—there’s a deeper connection between the two of you, one that neither of you can seem to put your finger on. but you’re both beginning to acknowledge it, nevertheless.

“alright, can’t argue there,” the man confesses. he wonders if you can see the gears turning in his head, if you can tell his opinion is swaying with each piece of information you bring up. issei usually prides himself on his poker face but he’s reconsidered a lot these past few minutes. “any more proof to back up your claim?”

you hum in deep thought before meeting his eye once more. he never looked away. 

“have you been sleeping with anyone else?”

“no.” his reply comes quicker than either of you expect. and it makes you smile, not because you’re happy to hear it (although, you are happy to hear it), but because his tone and the look of mild offense painting his features makes it seem as though you accused him of cheating. 

which you can’t do unless you’re dating.

“so we’re exclusive, then.” you don’t miss the subtle relief that washes over his face at the implication that you also aren't seeing anyone else.

“you make a compelling case,” matsukawa tells you, a lazy grin playing at his lips.

“and your verdict?”

his lips stick out in a pout as he makes a show of thinking everything you’ve said over. with every second he doesn’t answer, you grow more and more sure that he’s looking for a way to let you down slowly. after what seems like forever, he finally speaks. “i’ll go to that wedding with you.”

your heart jumps upon hearing his acceptance of your invitation. you hide your excitement in a single word. “great.”

“when is it?”

“later next month.”

he hums and nods, mostly to himself. “that should be enough time.”

you can’t help but ask, “enough time to…?”

issei leans forward, closing the gap between you to steal a kiss. it’s short but sweet and for some reason, it leaves you wide-eyed like a doe caught in headlights. “to become your actual boyfriend, of course.”

thanks for giving this a read ! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :3

[thedensworld]

What A Revenge | Y.Jh

Pairing: Jeonghan x reader

Genre: revenge AU, marriage contract AU, triangle love ft. seungcheol

Summary: After an unexpected rendezvous after a one night stand, Jeonghan asked Mingyu to set him up with you. However you had a different situation and it's getting complicated.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

"I'm going to get married,"

Jeonghan's words hung in the air, seemingly simple to himself, but the impact on his family was profound. His grandfather, the current president of the company, raised a stern brow, his expression betraying both surprise and concern. Seungcheol, his cousin, mirrored the disbelief, and even Jeonghan's parents scowled, their skepticism evident.

Caught off guard, Jeonghan's father coughed, attempting to redirect the conversation and attribute his son's statement to impulsive behavior. "He's joking, he might mean the merger that happened last—"

Jeonghan interrupted with unwavering determination, "No, I'm very serious. I'm going to get married in two months." The room fell into an uneasy silence as the weight of his announcement settled among the stunned family members.

Seungcheol nodded and carefully set down his utensils, his gaze fixed on Jeonghan. "Great news. Do we know that 'lucky' woman?" he asked, purposefully emphasizing the word 'lucky,' injecting a subtle pressure into the question. Jeonghan, however, remained oblivious to the underlying tone.

Responding with a genuine smile, Jeonghan said, "I don't think you know her, but she's an incredible person." Despite the sincerity in his words, uncertainty lingered in the air, as Jeonghan pondered the hidden implications behind Seungcheol's inquiry.

Seungcheol's father chimed in, attempting to cloak his words in a compliment, "It's really amazing if you want to marry her as soon as possible, Jeonghan." Yet, a trace of sarcasm tainted his tone, leaving Jeonghan to navigate the subtle complexities of the conversation. Unbeknownst to Seungcheol's father, Jeonghan saw through the facade, recognizing the bait successfully laid out before him. As the tension simmered, a storm of emotions churned within the room, each character concealing their true intentions beneath a veneer of polite conversation.

The grandfather, who had been an attentive observer throughout the conversation, cleared his throat and offered a proposition, "If you're being serious, you should introduce her to us. How about next week? Let's have a dinner with her here on Saturday night."

As Jeonghan exited his grandfather's house, a forced smile adorned his face. His parents confronted him after the dinner, their scolding fueled by a deep understanding of Jeonghan's tendency to prioritize work over personal relationships.

"Jeonghan, if this is just a card you're about to throw, let's stop whatever game you're planning on," his father cautioned before getting into the car. With a chuckle, Jeonghan responded, "It's just a small card for a start," his words carrying a hint of mystery as he watched his parents drive away. The air was thick with unspoken tension, leaving Jeonghan to navigate the intricate web of expectations and his own carefully crafted plans.

"Jeonghan, congratulations on finding the one," Seungcheol remarked, hands casually tucked into his pockets as he extended one for a handshake.

"Thanks," Jeonghan replied with a measured tone, accepting the handshake with a nod. Seungcheol positioned himself beside Jeonghan, a subtle quizzical expression on his face as he recalled, "Wasn't it just last year you told me that you won't get married?" Seungcheol reminisced about the conversation they had on Jeonghan's birthday, a stark reminder of the swift turns life can take.

Jeonghan nodded, his gaze lingering on some distant thought. "Yeah..."

A pregnant pause hung in the air as he reflected, "But this year is different."

"You know how marriage changes things, right?" Jeonghan redirected his gaze towards Seungcheol, inviting him into a conversation that seemed to be skirting the edges of unspoken dynamics.

"Marriage used to make your father a part of our family," Jeonghan continued, his words introducing an unexpected element into the discussion. Seungcheol's brows furrowed, the mention of his father injecting a note of discomfort.

"Marriage also used to elevate my father to today's position," Jeonghan added, drawing attention to his own family's success within the company. The complexity of intertwining relationships and power dynamics became apparent, leaving an unspoken tension in the room.

Jeonghan paused, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "Marriage might also secure your position, into mine."

Seungcheol tilted his head, an unmistakable anger beginning to crawl across his face. Jeonghan, seemingly unfazed, patted his shoulder, delivering a cryptic message. "I have to go, Seungcheol," he announced, leaving behind a whirlwind of implications, leaving Seungcheol to grapple with the unexpected turn of events.

*

"Why was I informed this morning that you're going to get married?" Joshua's voice sliced through the air as he welcomed Jeonghan into his office, nearly sending Jeonghan into a heart attack as he crossed the threshold.

"That is true," Jeonghan replied calmly, though his heart raced with the unexpected confrontation. He settled into a chair, ready to dive into the day's tasks, but Joshua's demeanor gave him pause.

Joshua's brow furrowed into a scowl as he rolled his eyes, the tension palpable in the room. "Who are you going to marry?" he demanded, his tone tinged with disbelief and perhaps a hint of jealousy.

Jeonghan straightened in his seat, his expression serene despite the growing unease. "Ji Y/n. Do you know her?" he asked casually, attempting to diffuse the tension with a light tone.

Lee Jihoon, sensing the tension in the room, entered with two coffees and two sandwiches, silently offering a brief moment of distraction. But the tension lingered, thickening the air between the two men as they waited for Joshua's response.

"Here's for you, Mr. Hong," Jihoon said, setting down the extra coffee with practiced ease. Jeonghan couldn't help but marvel at Jihoon's efficiency, though he refrained from asking about the extra item, knowing Jihoon's reliability all too well.

"What's in my plate today, Jihoon?" Joshua inquired, his voice a blend of curiosity and authority.

Jihoon wasted no time in retrieving his boss's schedule. "You have a monthly meeting with the accounting and marketing departments at 9. After lunch, you have to attend the parents' semester meeting at Mingyu's school."

Jeonghan's smile widened at the mention of Mingyu's school, anticipation bubbling within him. He couldn't wait to see you there.

"Jihoon, did you know your boss is dating someone? He's going to get married in March," Joshua interjected casually, eager to share the surprising news with his loyal secretary.

"M-married? I-i never heard about that... Would you like me to put it into your schedule, Mr. Yoon?" Jihoon stammered, clearly taken aback by the bombshell revelation.

Joshua chuckled at Jihoon's shocked response, finding amusement in Jeonghan's apparent secrecy. He couldn't help but wonder if the information he received from his own secretary, Myungho, was indeed accurate. After all, Myungho had been informed by Moon Junhui, the main secretary of the vice president and Jeonghan's father.

"You can go, Jihoon. We'll discuss my schedule tomorrow," Jeonghan dismissed, taking a sip of his coffee before rising from his seat and approaching Joshua, who was lounging on the couch with an air of amusement.

"News spreads quicker than I thought," Jeonghan remarked, a hint of resignation in his tone. "And yes, I'm getting married in March."

"Who's Ji Y/n? Do I know her? Is she a celebrity?" Joshua inquired, his curiosity piqued by the mention of the mysterious fiancée.

Jeonghan shook his head, a wistful expression crossing his features. "She's just someone I've met two or three times. But she's the perfect match to be the wife of my grandfather's company vice president."

Joshua raised an eyebrow, a mixture of surprise and skepticism evident on his face. "And here I thought you were giving up already... What's with the sudden passion to gain the title again?"

Jeonghan shrugged, his gaze distant as he recalled the events of the previous night's family dinner. "Playing games with Seungcheol is just too fun. I was just getting started, Josh. But it seems like everyone around him is already feeling the pressure."

Joshua regarded him with a mix of concern and understanding. "You do realize that whatever you're doing to Seungcheol now is pretty childish, right? You two were best friends and cousins."

A heavy silence settled between them, pregnant with unspoken truths and unresolved emotions. Jeonghan let out a deep sigh, grappling with the urge to reveal the true extent of Seungcheol's betrayal, the way he had callously discarded their friendship in pursuit of personal gain.

"Yeah, it was childish. But who cares?" Jeonghan's words hung in the air, tinged with bitterness and a hint of resignation, signaling the depth of his disillusionment with the situation.

*

You closed your eyes and let out a heavy breath as you sat on the toilet, the exhaustion of the day weighing heavily on your shoulders. Thoughts of surviving until the next lesson and enduring the upcoming parents' meeting only added to your weariness. The morning had started with a call from the principal, informing you of a scandalous rumor circulating about you.

The rumor had spread like wildfire, fueled by a post in the school community depicting you with a man, entering a hotel together. The caption, scandalous and defamatory, branded you as a promiscuous teacher who slept around with men. The principal's warning echoed in your mind, the threat of potential expulsion looming over you like a dark cloud.

Your hands found their way to your face, as if trying to physically dispel the exhaustion and frustration building within you. You had zero energy left to address the rumor, overwhelmed by the weight of everything on your plate. And no one seemed to care. Other teachers openly mocked you, discussing the false rumors in front of you as if you were invisible. You had no illusions that the students would act any differently; they seemed to thrive on the scandal, eagerly spreading and embellishing the gossip as if it were gospel truth. It was a lonely and disheartening realization, one that left you feeling isolated and helpless in the face of malicious rumors and indifference.

"Being a teacher is hard, we get paid less too. Sleeping around and getting paid after was easier. No wonder she would do that," you heard someone comment as they entered the room.

"But isn't she taken? She was engaged," another voice interjected, prompting another heavy sigh from you.

"What do you mean engaged? They broke off the engagement two years ago. I guess this must be the reason behind it. I can't believe Ms. Ji would do such a thing," another voice chimed in, the words cutting through you like a knife.

With a resolve born out of frustration and indignation, you stood and opened the door, confronting the group of gossiping teachers who stood in front of the mirror. They were momentarily stunned by your presence, their mouths tightening in discomfort before one of them coughed awkwardly.

"Is the rumor true, Ms. Ji?" one of them finally dared to ask, their eyes darting nervously between you and their companions.

You forced a smile, though it felt like a mask slipping over the turmoil brewing inside you. "We're in school. I don't think it's a proper topic for conversation," you replied evenly, your voice betraying none of the hurt and anger swirling within you.

The teachers exchanged knowing glances before one of them spoke up again, their words dripping with disdain. "Then be a proper teacher first. Not the one who sleeps around and gets caught."

The accusation hung in the air like a poison, the weight of their judgment heavy on your shoulders as you stood there, feeling exposed and vulnerable in the face of their gossip. It was a bitter reminder of the harsh reality of navigating the treacherous waters of rumor and reputation as a teacher, where even the slightest whisper of scandal could tarnish your name irreparably.

Without giving much thought to the gossiping teachers, you exited the restroom and made your way to your office. Your next lesson awaited, and you refused to let the venomous words of your colleagues ruin your mood.

Upon entering the classroom, your eyes immediately found Mingyu. A pang of guilt stabbed at your heart as you remembered the photos of you and his uncle entering the hotel, a revelation that still unsettled you. You tried to push aside the distraction, focusing instead on the task at hand.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the class ahead, and began by greeting the students. As expected, the atmosphere was cold and indifferent, the once respectful and attentive students now treating you with disdain and disregard. It was a stark contrast to the camaraderie and engagement you had previously enjoyed in your classroom, and it cut deeply.

Exhaling another heavy sigh, you couldn't help but wonder what sin you had committed to deserve such treatment. Whoever had posted those photos and spread the malicious rumors must have harbored a deep-seated hatred towards you. The thought gnawed at your conscience, leaving you feeling isolated and misunderstood. Despite your efforts to remain composed, the weight of the situation bore down on you, casting a shadow over what should have been a normal day of teaching.

"As you already knew, Korean culture has influenced a lot by—" your words were abruptly interrupted by the harsh creak of the door swinging open. Startled, you shifted your gaze from your students to the source of the distraction, and there stood a familiar figure, her presence commanding the room's attention. She was one of your students' guardians.

Slap.

A collective gasp filled the room as the palm of her hand collided with your cheek. A tingling sensation spread across your skin, leaving a trail of discomfort in its wake. You could feel the heat rising to your face, and you knew there would be a red mark left behind.

Unable to find your voice amidst the shock, you remained silent, but the tension in the room was palpable. Amidst the chaos, a hushed whisper broke the silence as one of your students stood from her seat and muttered, "Mom..."

"How dare you, an inappropriate teacher, teach my daughter! You're nothing but a slut who sleeps around," the guardian accused, her words dripping with disdain and contempt.

The weight of her accusation hit you like a ton of bricks, and a mix of emotions swirled within you – shock, disbelief, and a profound sense of injustice. It was a moment that would linger in your memory, forever etched as a painful reminder of the challenges you faced as a teacher, and the harsh judgments you endured from those who were quick to condemn without understanding.

Her voice reverberated loudly enough that nearby teachers from neighboring classrooms began to intervene. You stood there, feeling like an idiot for failing to protect yourself from those rumors and remaining silent about them. Your pride as a teacher crumbled, leaving you feeling vulnerable and incompetent as you struggled to explain the situation.

A fellow teacher stepped forward and gently took your arm, guiding you out of the classroom to avoid further disruption to the students' studies. Mr. Lee, with a reassuring smile, assured you that he would take care of your class and that you didn't need to worry.

Now, standing in the principal's office, you felt a sense of unease settle over you as the woman who had slapped you and Mr. Park, the principal himself, sat on the couch. You found it difficult to articulate the truth when they asked you about the rumors. Explaining the reality of the situation felt impossible, as it would only lend credence to the false accusations of promiscuity.

"So, is the rumor true?" the woman demanded, her tone accusatory.

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, "It's not true, ma'am."

"Then explain the pictures," Mr. Park pressed, his expression stern.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of their scrutiny bearing down on you. How could you possibly explain the truth without incriminating yourself further? The mere mention of the photos filled you with dread, knowing that they only served to further tarnish your reputation and cast doubt on your integrity.

You winced as Mrs. Jung's voice rang out, her words hitting you like a physical blow. Your legs threatened to give out beneath you as she mentioned the possibility of being fired, and the thought of her daughter being taught by someone like you filled you with a sense of dread and shame.

She didn't stop there, escalating her threats by invoking her husband's position at Nevitech, leveraging it to expedite the process of your dismissal. The mention of a meeting with the school foundation's board sent a chill down your spine, knowing that your fate hung precariously in the balance.

Before Mr. Park could respond, the door swung open, revealing someone of great importance to him. Both Mr. Park and Mrs. Jung immediately rose to their feet as the person they had mentioned earlier entered the principal's office – none other than the Chairman himself.

You dared not meet his gaze, fully aware of who he was and the reason for his unexpected visit before the scheduled meeting later in the afternoon.

"I was going to visit before the parents meeting, but I heard that we have some not very nice rumors surrounding," Choi Seungcheol, the Chairman, stated as he entered the room, declining Mr. Park's handshake in favor of approaching you directly.

With gentle concern in his voice, he held your shoulders and guided you to sit on one of the sofas. "Are you okay? You should sit," he said softly, his comforting gesture a stark contrast to the hostility that had filled the room moments before.

Mr. Park seemed taken aback by how Seungcheol treated you. "Mr. Choi, it's very nice to see you, but... Do you know Ms. Ji?"

Seungcheol nodded before he settled himself beside you, his gaze drifting over your demeanor. He couldn't help but notice the faint red stain on your cheek, a stark reminder of the recent altercation. His secretary had driven like a madman to get here upon hearing your name mentioned in connection with the troubling rumors at the school. Seungcheol was one of the few people who knew just how passionate you were about teaching.

"She's... a friend," he said, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he glanced at Mr. Park. "However, I overheard someone mentioning a board meeting. Mr. Lee, am I available in the near future?"

"I am afraid you are, sir," Mr. Lee, Seungcheol's secretary, replied promptly.

Seungcheol smiled at Mrs. Jung and Mr. Park, though the warmth didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm really disappointed by how you've failed to protect one of your staff, Mr. Park. I thought you were better at handling this kind of situation."

Mr. Park's expression immediately turned contrite as he bowed in apology. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Choi."

"And your husband's name, Ma'am?" Seungcheol's tone was firm, his disappointment evident. "I can't believe that someone in my company would use his position to target the vulnerable."

Following Mr. Park's lead, Mrs. Jung also bowed in apology for causing a scene and invoking her husband's position. "I acted recklessly, Mr. Choi."

Seungcheol shook his head, his gaze turning towards you. "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. Ms. Ji is. I've known her long enough to realize she's a potential teacher with a lot of ambition. She's denied the rumors, and it's Mr. Park's responsibility to find out who's behind them."

Mr. Park bowed once again, his determination evident. "Yes, I'll find the culprit immediately, sir."

As the tension in the room began to ease slightly, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you.

*

Seungcheol settled beside you on the school park bench mere minutes after you both stepped out of the principal's office. He handed you a cold water bottle and gently urged you to press it against your stinging cheek. Your eyes couldn't help but notice the gleam of an engagement ring still adorning his finger, a painful feeling hit you like a truck.

"I'm sorry for what happened," he mumbled softly, his gaze lingering on your face.

You nodded in acknowledgment of his words, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his eyes. The humiliation of the recent events weighed heavily on you, and you felt a sense of shame that made it impossible to look anyone in the eye. Your pride had been shattered, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Seungcheol's presence beside you offered a small measure of comfort, but it also served as a painful reminder of what could never be. The gap between you felt insurmountable, a chasm of misunderstanding and regret that seemed impossible to bridge. As you sat there in silence, the weight of the situation hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over any hope of resolution or reconciliation.

"It's been a long time, and meeting you again like this... I'm glad, I honestly really am," he said, offering a gentle smile.

"How do you know?" You asked, turning your head to face him. This time, your eyes met for the first time since two years ago, when he broke off the engagement and left you in the apartment, shattered and alone. The memories flooded back – the exact moment, the chilling air, the crushing weight of heartbreak. And as you looked into his eyes now, it felt like your heart was breaking all over again.

"Seokmin told me about the rumors, and his brother updates him on what's happening in this school," he explained. "They're really great siblings, even though they don't look alike at all."

You found yourself contemplating Lee Seokmin and Lee Chan, the PE teacher. Despite the turmoil, you made a mental note to treat Mr. Lee to a nice meal once everything had settled.

"Thanks," you said softly, leaning back against the bench. The weight of the day's events pressed heavily upon you, but Seungcheol's presence offered a glimmer of solace amidst the chaos. It was a bittersweet reunion, tinged with the ache of unresolved emotions and the lingering sting of past wounds.

Seungcheol looked at you, his expression a mix of bewilderment and uncertainty. He blinked, then chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah..."

"Why?" you asked, curious about his reaction.

"It's just new to me, that you're not mad. I thought you were upset because I helped you earlier," he admitted, shaking his head slightly.

You managed a faint smile at his confession. "But, it's nothing. You're a friend to me."

Friend. The word echoed in your mind, stirring up a mix of emotions you tried to suppress. You nodded along with his words, though each one stung a little.

"Ji Y/n..."

You looked up to see Yoon Jeonghan breathlessly running toward you, suddenly enveloping you in his embrace. "Are you alright, honey?"

You winced at the pet name Jeonghan called you, feeling a twinge of discomfort at the familiarity. Seungcheol, on the other hand, remained stone cold as he observed his cousin immediately pull you into a tight hug. It all clicked into place for Seungcheol when he noticed Jeonghan scrutinizing you, his hands gently caressing your cheeks. The realization dawned on him as he connected the dots between the guy in the photo with you and Jeonghan.

Taking a step back, Seungcheol watched in silence as Jeonghan continued to dote on you, his demeanor strikingly different from his usual self. He couldn't help but notice how your face flushed in Jeonghan's presence, a stark contrast to the lack of reaction when you were with him earlier. The sight tugged at Seungcheol's heart, igniting a pang of jealousy that he struggled to suppress.

As he glanced down at his engagement ring, a reminder of his enduring love for you, Seungcheol felt a heaviness settle in his chest. Despite his efforts to keep his emotions in check, he couldn't deny the ache of longing that gnawed at him.

Exhaling a heavy sigh, Seungcheol met Jeonghan's gaze, realizing that his cousin had noticed him standing silently behind you all this time. The tension in the air was palpable, each of them silently grappling with their own emotions and desires amidst the tangled web of relationships and unspoken truths.

"Seungcheol, this is Jeonghan, a—”

"Boyfriend," Jeonghan interjected smoothly, completing the sentence in a single beat. Seungcheol hoped his ears were playing tricks on him, but the way Jeonghan's hand rested possessively on your waist confirmed his worst fears.

"We've known each other, honey," Jeonghan added, his tone casual as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Seungcheol couldn't bring himself to focus on the conversation between the couple. His mind was consumed by thoughts of how much you had changed over time, in all the ways that mattered. He couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in your demeanor, the way your smile seemed brighter and your laughter more carefree.

But amidst his admiration, a sense of impending doom loomed over him. He knew he was doomed to leave you, trapped by obligations and expectations that threatened to tear them apart. As he watched you with Jeonghan, the weight of his decision pressed heavily upon him, a burden he couldn't shake no matter how hard he tried.

*

Convincing you to marry him was surprisingly easier than Jeonghan had anticipated. After conducting research on you, Jeonghan's people unearthed a few key facts that could sway you in his favor:

1. You were Seungcheol's ex-fiancée.

2. You were currently facing financial instability.

3. Your father required a costly neurological surgery.

Of course, Jeonghan didn't reveal his knowledge of your past relationship with Seungcheol. That was merely a piece of leverage he intended to exploit along the way. However, when he mentioned his willingness to assist with your father's surgery, he noticed a flicker of consideration in your eyes—a promising start.

With the help of Mingyu, Jeonghan arranged a meeting with you to present his proposal. Although you hadn't given him a definitive answer yet, the mere fact that you were considering it was a small victory for Jeonghan. He was impatient to move forward, eager to unveil the next card in his carefully crafted plan—a contractual marriage that would benefit both of you.

In just two years' time, Jeonghan envisioned achieving his goals. He would ensure your needs were met, take responsibility for your father's health, and inch closer to inheriting his grandfather's company, Golden Group. The prospect of success fueled Jeonghan's determination, driving him to push forward with his calculated scheme, even as he grappled with the moral implications of his actions.

"Let's have a check and sue that woman," Jeonghan said as he turned on the car engine, promising to take you home after the incident that had occurred at school.

"Let's do that..." you responded, your voice resolute.

Jeonghan turned his head to you, unable to comprehend the meaning behind your words. "Do wha—"

"Let's get married."

Jeonghan jolted, his foot instinctively pressing on the brake. "You serious?"

You nodded firmly, your determination shining through. "Yeah... When is the wedding going to be held, as you said?"

Jeonghan blinked in astonishment, trying to process the fact that you had accepted his proposal so quickly. He had given you a month to think it over, but it had only been a week, and you were already giving him an answer. Was it related to your meeting with Seungcheol earlier? He made a mental note to ask you about it later; he was curious how Seungcheol had been there before him.

"In two months," he replied, still trying to wrap his head around the sudden turn of events.

You nodded, your gaze unwavering. "You promised to do the things you said on the paper, didn't you?"

A smirk tugged at the corners of Jeonghan's lips as he raised an eyebrow. "Of course, honey."

*

Marriage Contract

This agreement is entered into on March 21st between Yoon Jeonghan, hereinafter referred to as the "First Party," and Ji Y/n, hereinafter referred to as the "Second Party."

Terms and Conditions:

1. Living Arrangements:

- Both parties agree to reside under the same roof, with the option of separate rooms. However, in the event of family visits, both parties are obliged to share the same room.

2. Schedule Adaptation:

- The Second Party shall adapt their schedule to accommodate the needs of the First Party. The Second Party is obligated to accompany the First Party to any events or commitments the First Party has in the future.

3. Public Display of Affection:

- Both parties agree to engage in displays of affection, referred to as "skinship," in public settings.

4. Responsibilities:

- The Second Party agrees to accept all responsibilities, including but not limited to health, wealth, and familial matters, under the guidance and direction of the First Party.

5. Monogamy:

- Both parties agree to maintain a monogamous relationship and refrain from engaging in any form of open relationship or extramarital affairs.

6. Intimacy:

- Intimate activities between the parties shall be conducted with mutual consent.

Term and Termination:

This Contract shall remain in effect indefinitely unless terminated by mutual agreement or as provided by law.

IN WITNESS WHEREOF, the parties hereto have executed this Contract as of the date first written above.

Yoon Jeonghan

Ji Y/n

*

Jeonghan let out a heavy sigh as he surveyed yet another suit in the store. When he had stepped into the shop, he had a simple mantra in mind: "Let's keep it simple." Little did he know that his own mother would be present, ready to torture him with her choices of suits and gowns for both him and you.

"Oh my goodness, look at you!" His mother's voice cut through the air, drawing Jeonghan's attention away from the report his secretary had sent him. He glanced up to see you standing before him, adorned in the most beautiful bridal gown he had ever seen. While he admittedly had zero knowledge about women's fashion, particularly bridal gowns, there was no denying the breathtaking elegance of the dress. And yet, he couldn't determine if it was the gown itself or simply the way you wore it that made it so captivating.

Lost in his thoughts, Jeonghan didn't realize he had been staring at you until he heard a sob emanate from his mother. He quickly approached her, finding her engulfing you in a tight hug while tears streamed down her cheeks. Confusion flickered in his eyes as he exchanged a questioning look with you, but you mirrored his expression of bewilderment.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but you could stain the gown with your tears and makeup," the staff said gently, causing Jeonghan's mother to pull away from you, wiping her tears away with trembling hands. Her eyes were filled with a mixture of sadness and longing as she looked at him. "It reminds me of your sister."

Jeonghan felt a pang of guilt in his chest as he watched his mother struggle to compose herself. He had never seen her so vulnerable before, her emotions laid bare in front of him. The weight of his actions suddenly became all too real to him, realizing that the game he was playing was causing genuine pain to the woman who had always supported him.

As he looked at his mother, her eyes mirroring the grief she still carried for his sister, Jeonghan's heart sank. He knew he couldn't continue down this path, hurting those he loved in the process. It was a sobering moment for him, a realization that there were consequences to his actions beyond the thrill of the game.

Strike one, for the first time he started feel bad playing his own game.

You and Jeonghan spent the time afterward visiting your father in the nursery. His surgery was scheduled after your wedding, and he was visibly excited to hear about your upcoming nuptials. As you approached your father's room, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety fluttered in your chest.

Before Jeonghan could enter the room, you gently placed a hand on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. He looked at you, surprised by the sudden halt, but as he met your gaze, he saw the subtle warning in your eyes. Without uttering a word, you were conveying a message to him, a silent plea to be understanding and patient.

"Whatever he's going to say, and if it's hurting you, he doesn't mean it, okay?" you whispered to Jeonghan, your voice laced with a mixture of concern and affection. Despite the gravity of the situation, there was an undeniable warmth in your tone, a reflection of the deep love you held for your father despite his flaws.

Jeonghan's smile widened, a genuine expression of understanding dawning on his features. In that moment, he realized just how much you cared for your father. However, willing to shield Jeonghan from any potential hurtful words, is it also caring?

"Is it my princess, Y/n?" Your father's voice quivered with affection as he watched you approach, a tender smile gracing his lips. You embraced him dearly, holding onto him as if to capture every precious moment in your heart. Jeonghan stood behind you, observing the intimate moment with quiet patience, his gaze filled with admiration for the bond you shared with your father.

As your father turned his attention to Jeonghan, his expression shifted, surprise evident in his features. "And who is this?" he inquired, curiosity tinged with a hint of suspicion.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the inevitable confrontation. "This is Yoon Jeonghan, my fiancé," you announced, your voice steady despite the internal turmoil.

A flicker of confusion crossed your father's face. "Isn't your fiancé Seungcheol?" he asked, his words cutting through the air like a sharp knife.

You glanced at Jeonghan, a silent apology reflected in your eyes. "What are you talking about, Dad? Seungcheol and I broke up years ago," you explained softly, your voice laced with pain as memories of the past resurfaced, threatening to overwhelm you.

"Why?" Your father's question hung heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the heartache you had endured. Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to find the right words to explain.

Sensing your sudden distress, Jeonghan stepped forward, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of turmoil. With a respectful bow, he introduced himself to your father, his voice steady and reassuring. "Nice to meet you, Father. I'm Yoon Jeonghan, your princess's fiancé," he declared with unwavering conviction, his words echoing with sincerity and determination.

Your father nodded in acknowledgment of Jeonghan's words, a flicker of interest sparking in his eyes as he glanced at the chess set laid out on the table. "Y/n said you like playing chess. I was an athlete back in high school," Jeonghan remarked, trying to find common ground with your father.

"Really?" Your father's tone held a hint of intrigue as he considered Jeonghan's offer. "Let's play chess then. It's been a long time since I played with someone younger. I get easily bored every time I play with my wife and my brother," he chuckled, his eyes twinkling with anticipation at the prospect of a new opponent.

The drive to your house was quiet, the tension in the air palpable as everyone processed the events of the day. Despite the outward appearance of calm, Jeonghan couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. He stole glances at you multiple times, noticing the subtle shifts in your mood and demeanor.

"Your father knows Seungcheol..." Jeonghan mumbled softly, breaking the silence that had settled over them. You hummed in response, a faint furrow forming between your brows as you contemplated his words.

"What's wrong with you and Seungcheol?" Jeonghan's inquiry hung in the air, his voice gentle yet probing.

You let out a weary sigh, the weight of the past weighing heavily on your shoulders. "We just couldn't find it easy to be together," you admitted, your words tinged with a hint of resignation.

Jeonghan sensed that there was more to the story than you were letting on. "Is it his family?" he ventured, his intuition guiding him to a possible source of conflict.

"One of them..." you replied cryptically, your gaze drifting away as memories of past confrontations resurfaced. It was clear to Jeonghan that there were deeper issues at play, hidden beneath the surface of your relationship with Seungcheol.

Nodding in understanding, Jeonghan silently acknowledged the complexities of familial dynamics and the toll they could take on a relationship. Despite the lack of explicit details, he could empathize with your struggles, recognizing that Seungcheol's family could indeed be a source of pain and discord.

"My father's brain function was damaged after a car accident two years ago," you confessed, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air. The memory of that tragic day seemed to linger, casting a shadow over the present. "The accident sent my mother and my uncle into death. My father was in a coma for three months before he regained consciousness."

As you spoke, Jeonghan listened intently, his heart aching with empathy for the pain you had endured. The devastation of losing loved ones and witnessing your father's struggle with dementia painted a grim picture of the challenges you faced.

"He has had to undergo multiple surgeries to try and recover from the dementia," you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. "But I can't afford it. His business went bankrupt, and I'm just a teacher."

Jeonghan's heart sank as he absorbed the gravity of your words. The enormity of the situation weighed heavily on him, and he felt a surge of guilt wash over him. Here you were, facing insurmountable obstacles, while he had been blissfully unaware of the extent of your struggles.

"You don't have to worry now," Jeonghan promised solemnly, his voice filled with determination. Despite the overwhelming odds stacked against you, he was determined to stand by your side and offer whatever support he could muster. Yet, despite his pledge, he couldn't shake the gnawing sense of guilt that settled in the pit of his stomach.

Strike two, he thought to himself, he felt worse.

*

An hour before the wedding vows, Jeonghan was bustling about, greeting guests with a practiced smile plastered on his face. It was a skill he had honed in the days leading up to this momentous occasion. Amidst the sea of well-wishers, he excused himself briefly, informing the parents that he needed to see you for a moment.

Walking briskly to the room where you were seated, Jeonghan's heart skipped a beat as he pushed the door open. To his surprise, he found Seungcheol engaged in conversation with you. Pausing at the threshold, he hesitated, unwilling to intrude on the private moment.

"Your father thought I was the groom," Seungcheol's voice carried a hint of determination, breaking the tense silence that hung in the air.

"Let's not talk about that," you responded softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you stood before him in your wedding dress. The weight of the impending ceremony seemed to hang heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the room as you prepared to walk down the aisle with your father.

Jeonghan stood rooted to the spot, his heart heavy with a mixture of emotions. Despite his efforts to maintain composure, a pang of insecurity gnawed at him as he observed the exchange between you and Seungcheol.

"Your father, he thought I was the groom! What's going on here, Y/n? Tell me!" Seungcheol's voice rose with frustration as he grabbed your arm, his tone demanding answers. Jeonghan, on the verge of intervening, paused at the threshold, uncertain of his next move.

Before he could react, however, he watched in astonishment as you swiftly maneuvered out of Seungcheol's grasp. In a moment of unexpected boldness, you raised your hand and delivered a resounding slap across Seungcheol's face. Jeonghan gasped, instinctively covering his mouth in shock at the sudden turn of events.

"Stop being an asshole and fucking grow up!" you admonished, your voice laced with a mix of anger and hurt. "You left me crumbled that time, and you didn't even reach out to me until two months ago. So stop, Seungcheol. Just stop it!"

The room fell into stunned silence as the weight of your words hung heavy in the air. Jeonghan watched in awe as you stood your ground, refusing to be intimidated or manipulated any longer. In that moment, you were a force to be reckoned with, asserting your independence and reclaiming your power.

Seungcheol recoiled from the force of your slap, his hand instinctively rising to his cheek as he processed your words. There was a flicker of remorse in his eyes, a realization dawning on him as he confronted the consequences of his actions. As the tension in the room lingered, Jeonghan felt a surge of admiration for you, marveling at your strength and resilience in the face of adversity.

"Do you love him?" Seungcheol's question hung in the air, the tension palpable as everyone awaited your response. Jeonghan's heart pinched at the mere thought of your answer, his emotions swirling with a mix of apprehension and longing.

"No," you replied firmly, your voice unwavering despite the weight of the question.

Jeonghan's breath caught in his throat, a pang of hope blossoming in his chest at your words. Yet, even as relief washed over him, he couldn't shake the ache of uncertainty that lingered within him.

"Then why did you choose him?" Seungcheol pressed, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

Your response was simple yet profound, cutting through the tension like a knife. "Because," you began, your voice steady as you met Seungcheol's gaze, "he never left me."

As the weight of your words settled over the room, Jeonghan felt a surge of emotion welling up within him. Jeonghan's heart swelled with a profound sense of gratitude and determination.

As Seungcheol stepped out of the room, Jeonghan immediately retreated into the shadows, concealing himself until the coast was clear. Then, with a mischievous smirk and a round of applause, he made his grand entrance, acknowledging your earlier stunt with admiration.

"Revenge done, princess?" Jeonghan teased, his tone playful as he approached you.

You let out a heavy sigh, your hand still tingling from the force of the slap you had delivered to Seungcheol moments ago. "It's hurt," you admitted, showing him your reddened palm.

Jeonghan gently took your hand in his, blowing on it softly in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort. "That's the feeling of revenge, babe," he remarked with a smirk. "It's hurt, but satisfying."

Despite the pain in your hand, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you gazed into Jeonghan's eyes. There was a warmth in his touch, a reassurance that you were not alone in this battle. In that moment, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his unwavering support and understanding.

As you shared a lighthearted moment together, a flicker of doubt crossed Jeonghan's mind. Did he ever mention that you were the perfect suitor to be the wife of the Golden Group Vice President?

*

"Can I ask you a favor?" you ventured, your voice hesitant as you sat across from Jeonghan in his office two weeks before the wedding, discussing the contracts that needed to be finalized.

"Let me hear it first," Jeonghan replied, crossing his legs and leaning back on the couch, his eyes fixed intently on yours.

"It's about Seungcheol," you began, your words causing Jeonghan's brows to furrow in concern. The mention of his cousin seemed to strike a nerve, his expression darkening with an underlying tension.

Jeonghan's gaze bore into yours as he sought clarity. "You still love him?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension.

You shook your head vehemently, dismissing any notion of lingering affection. "That's not what I mean," you clarified. "Listen, I want revenge."

Jeonghan's features softened slightly as he processed your words, a glimmer of understanding dawning in his eyes. Despite his initial apprehension, he recognized the fire in your gaze, the determination to right the wrongs of the past.

Jeonghan's head tilted slightly, his curiosity piqued. "Revenge on Seungcheol?" he questioned, seeking confirmation from you. You nodded solemnly, steeling yourself for the task ahead.

"I need to know the details first," Jeonghan smirked, a hint of excitement dancing in his eyes. He had been itching to uncover the truth behind Seungcheol's actions, eager to unravel the mystery that had plagued your past.

A pregnant silence hung in the air as you gathered your thoughts, preparing to delve into the painful memories that still lingered within you. "He basically chose his career over me," you began, your voice tinged with bitterness as you recounted the events of two years ago.

As you spoke, Jeonghan leaned in closer, his gaze fixed intently on you as he listened with rapt attention. There was a hunger in his eyes, a desire to understand the depths of your pain and the reasons behind Seungcheol's betrayal.

"I just... don't understand why he suddenly has an obsession to lead his grandfather's company," you confessed, your voice tinged with frustration and confusion. "He changed into Seungcheol that I don't know. We argued for months, and he suddenly said that I was the reason his career was undeveloped. He broke off our engagement the next day and left me."

Jeonghan listened intently to your story, his eyes widening in disbelief at the revelation. Memories of his own strained relationship with Seungcheol flooded his mind, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. He recalled the pressure Seungcheol had faced from his parents to inherit the family business, and how their friendship had begun to drift apart as a result.

As you continued to recount the events that led to your breakup, Jeonghan couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy for you. It was clear that both of you had been unfairly blamed for Seungcheol's own insecurities and ambitions.

With a newfound determination, Jeonghan resolved to help you seek justice and closure. He understood now the depth of the pain you had endured, and he was more than willing to stand by your side as you embarked on this journey of revenge.

As you outlined your plan for revenge, Jeonghan couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for your resilience. Despite the pain and heartache you had endured, you refused to be a victim, instead choosing to take control of your own destiny. With a silent nod, Jeonghan signaled his agreement, ready to stand by your side as you embarked on this journey of retribution.

Revenge on Choi Seungcheol? He is happy to help.

[islandofsages]

So i got some silly idea, Can i request Savanaclaw dorm with male raccoon beastman reader 🦝 (who is also a third year Savanaclaw student) that likes to ✨ collect trash ✨ and ✨ dumpster driving ✨ Like, He is not poor but he just likes to do that. Thanks! Have a great day!

characters: the savanaclaw boys x male raccoon beastman third year reader

tags: platonic, fluff, imagines format

warnings: none

author's notes: i feel like i made dumpster-diving sound like thrifting in this ... i love thrifting can you tell

Leona Kingscholar

“...Whaddya think ya’re doing?”

Oh, you thought it was obvious but apparently not. You're dumpster diving obviously

A better question would be what is Leona Kingscholar doing near a bunch of dumpsters. You point this out to him

He actually seems to ponder that question for a second. What is he doing there, entertaining some dumpster-diver? Then he realizes that it doesn’t matter

His face merely contorts into an irritated frown and he mumbles something about “fucking raccoon beastpeople and their weird habits” then walks off

You watch his silhouette grow smaller by the second then shrug to yourself. His loss

He doesn’t say anything when you come back to the dorms carrying the junk you get from your scavenging but you can tell he’s somewhat curious of what you found

One time you come back bringing a wholeass couch and it’s somehow in mint condition - he’s more bewildered by the people who’s throwing the trash than you at this point

It’s definitely not for him but as long as you don’t bother him and that you’re happy, he doesn’t say a word about your habits.

Jack Howl

He tries not to be too judgemental since there’s all kinds of people in NRC and he feels like he’s definitely seen weirder things by now

He’s a little confused but he got the spirit! Spirit of what exactly? Spirit of supporting you and respecting his upperclassmen obviously

He’s somewhat stiff around you since you’re older and he doesn’t want to offend you in any way - so you make an effort to make him more comfortable around you

You’d tell him about what you find in your little adventures and he seems to be amused by the kind of stuff people easily throw away here

“That’s part of the magic! Plus, once you get used to the stench and filth, it’s really not all that bad.”

He believes and trusts your words but he still won’t try it for himself. He’ll leave it all up to you and your expertise

Sooner or later, with enough storytelling, a smile on his face becomes a common look for him whenever you’re around

You’d even bring him back stuff you found that you think he’d like (after thoroughly washing them and bringing them back to the best condition of course)

Whenever you see him use the stuff you give to him, whether it’s a decoration in his room or it’s on his person, you feel a little proud of the bond you’ve nurtured with him.

Ruggie Bucchi

He understands the need to stoop to that level but when you tell him you don’t even need the stuff you collect and just do it for fun, he’s silent for a bit

Still won’t judge you for it! Plus sometimes he gets the good stuff from your scavenges so he’s not complaining

Once he gets curious enough, he’ll tag along on the diving… and it’s not as bad as he thought it would be

It’s stinky and dirty but sometimes he really hits the jackpot in some of the dumpsters. It’s like a thrift store but even cheaper somehow

“(Y/N), look at what I found! Are you seeing this right now?”

You unironically become dumpster-diving buddies and the two of you would review the stuff you got after each session to decide if you’re going to keep some or not

You guys can probably get a lot of clout if you start a YouTube channel

You two grow a lot closer after enlightening him of the joys of dumpster-diving, which you aren’t too surprised about since it’s a common bonding experience for you raccoon beastpeople

But as you look back on your memories of junk-collecting and look forward towards Ruggie's laugh, you can’t help but laugh with him.

[stuniolvs]

OF COURSE, JOBE BELLINGHAM

you were a new journalist who often worked in sports interviewing players. today you were at a game of one of your favorite teams to interview, sunderland. as you waited for the game to come to an end you prepared your questions. as the 90th minute approached you watched the game closely as a player scored. you smiled as you realized it was your favorite player to interview, jobe bellingham. you knew you needed to interview him again after this goal, it was just a new excuse to talk to the cute player.

you walk down the steps of the stadium carefully, making sure not to fall wearing the tall heels you wore almost everyday. you were pretty short and working with taller athletes you often needed to appear taller to not seem so awkward. your normal height was raised about 5 inches. you reach the field, smiling at the happiness that radiates off the winning team. you walk over to jobe and smile at him, noticing how tall he was, “nice to see you again y/n” he smiles you take notice of how he remembered your name. “you as well jobe, do you mind if we interview you?” you ask, “not at all” he agrees.

after the interview your camera man walks away leaving you and jobe. “nice goal out there,” you compliment “thank you” he replies he stares at you for a second before his eyes flicker to your lips and back up to your eyes never breaking the eye contact. “you’re really pretty” he blurts out immediately covering his mouth “i’m so sor-“ you cut him off, “thank you, you’re pretty handsome too.” you reply as jobe looks around noticing that the stadium had pretty much cleared out he leans down and kisses you. when your lips lock you’re a little surprised but you kiss back. you feel jobes arms slip around your waist as you cup his cheek. he pulls away smiling “let’s get out of here,” he pulls you over to the tunnel to walk towards the locker room. “i need to go grab my stuff will you wait here really quick” he asks “mhm”

as jobe comes rushing out looking rather sweaty he’s now in slides but the same outfit as before. “what do you wanna do?” you ask him “wanna walk around?” he asks. “sure,”

it’s around 30 minutes later and you guys have just been asking eachother random questions, “hmm,” you ponder for a moment before thinking of a new question “if you could only drink one drink for the rest of your life what would it be?” you ask him “i’ve gotta survive so i’d probably say water,” he starts “but if it’s like your favorite drink- but you’re not gonna survive without water” he continues “no jobe, like your favorite drink-“ he cuts you off “so what you gonna do you gonna die then?” he replies his brummie accent thick. “jobe,” you laugh “if it’s just like off of taste, i mean i like pineapple juice” he says sassily. you giggle.

“how tall are you?” you ask your feet beginning to hurt. “like 6’3” he replies. “i have to show you something” you inform him “okay,” he hesitantly replies. you reach down to your heels and pull one off. stepping down to the ground, before pulling off the other. “holy shit!” he exclaims. you look up at him, he’s now much taller compared to you. “how am i meant to kiss you now?” he asks “i guess you’ll just have to deal with neck pain” you smile. he hums “that’s a pain i’m willing to have if it means i get to keep kissing you.” he whispers softly leaning down to your lips before he connects them. you hum into the kiss before he slides his hands under your thighs, “jump.” he whispers against your lips. you jump and he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as you continue to kiss. you pull back “jobe,” you say softly caressing his cheek “we’re making out in the middle of the sidewalk.” you remind him. “do you wanna come back to mine?” he asks “of course.” you reply “can you carry me back?” you ask “my feet hurt.” you complain “of course.” he kisses your nose.

i love you all!! please leave requests!! have a great day or night!

[fieldofdaisiies]

Whispers of the Forgotten | pt. 3

pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 2,8k words | masterlist

"She is waking up."

Someone is talking, but you don’t know who it is, have never heard that voice before. 

"Is she?" But that voice, you have heard before. And it makes your heart race, panic surging through you and gripping your insides with its invisible claws of fire and ice.

"Yes, Cassian," the female voice states. "She is waking. Thank the Mother."

You shudder — both from feeling cold and the mention of his name. 

"Don‘t worry. Nothing will happen to you, you are safe." The female close to you must have felt your slight tremor, trying to soothe you. Under different circumstances you would have been grateful for this act — now, you can’t really accept it. You don’t know what to do with it. Can you trust her? The stranger? She is so close and it scares you, your eyes not yet opening. But you need to see, to know where you are, and what is going on. 

You ponder over her words, the mention of the word safe…

Nowhere is safe, you think. Not while Cassian and Azriel exist. With them in your life you are nowhere safe. And why the hell did you allow yourself to fall asleep?

You can’t allow yourself to let that happen again. You can't allow yourself such reckless mistakes. You always need to be focused, one step ahead of your enemies. 

Ignoring the voices, you struggle to rise, but your throbbing head spins you off balance.

"Where am I?" you breathe, not recognising your own voice. It sounds weaker than usual, hoarse and ragged. "What do you want from me?"

Blinking against harsh light, only shadows greet your blurred vision. You can only make out silhouettes, no faces, no bodies. Some people stand close to you, some a little further away and one lone figure at the door. You don’t have to see them to know who they are. 

You would always recognise him. Azriel. You start to tremble, your knees feeling wobbly despite sitting down. Blinking rapidly, slowly the haze starts to fade, and everything becomes clearer.

"We regret what occurred. Regret the measures we had to take."

The voice, oddly familiar, leaves you unsettled and cold sweat builds up on the back of your neck. 

"You…" Your breath catches as a large, towering figure appears. Imposing, graceful, powerful.

His hands are shoved into the pockets of his trousers, his violet eyes trained on you. His features are sharp, but his expression is oddly soft.

"Are you…?" Your voice breaks before you can finish your question. 

"Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court." The male's voice is loud and strong. "Lady Y/N, I am sorry for what my father—"

"Gods!"

Rhysand. He looks different. Older. More mature. Like his father. You had only seen him a few times back then, never really talked to him, but you knew what he looked like. Everyone did.

You lift your hand. "Don‘t. Don’t apologise. I don’t want to hear that. It was centuries ago and...I don't want to hear it." You can't hear it. Not some silly apologies for things no apologising would ever be enough for.

You don’t want to talk about it — about what happened to you, about what has been done to you. You don’t want the memories to turn up again. You can't let them reach the surface ever again. And most definitely, not now.

Not with Azriel present.

There is unresolved business with everyone in this room, but in this moment it can’t be dealt with. You are not strong enough, your powers still haven’t returned, and there are too many people protecting each other in this moment. 

Rhysand dips his chin, slowly assessing you. "You may wonder why we freed you?" he changes the topic. 

The High Lord surrounds the couch and claims a seat on the couch table in front of you, but you remain silent.

"We need your help." Again, you offer no response.

"It concerns Koschei, the—"

"Death God." Your lips part, meeting his violet gaze. "Why me?"

And so they explain. Everything and in great detail and you listen. To everything that is said until your head feels heavy and starts to spin. It is too much, too many people, too many noises, too much information. 

Azriel stays at the door, and you fight the urge to look at him, not trusting yourself to not lunge at him again and try to claw his eyes out. Your hands are still shackled and telling by the scent of it, the High Lord of Night definitely put a protective shield around you — not to protect you, but rather the others from you.  

You listen carefully to every word that is said, but sometimes your thoughts stray. To Azriel. To the Prison. To what has been done to you and to the betrayal. And to what you know of Koschei. It is so much, your brain nearly breaks your through skull. 

"The bone carver, his—"

"Brother." Another female appears in your vision, she looks beautiful and young and there is a child on her arm. "He is dead. Gave his life for the sake of Prythian."

You speak a silent prayer to the Mother for another old friend you lost. Whispers of Stryga‘s death reached you some time ago and it sent a pang of hurt to your heart. Slowly, everyone is fading from this world, also Lanthys whose charm and lethality you truly came to love in the Prison and mist desperately when he no longer was.

"Meet my wife, my mate and High Lady of the Night Court." Rhysand’s reaches his arm out, curling it around the young female. "Feyre Archeron and our son, Nyx." Rhysand also introduces all the other people in the room, but your mind catches on the High Lady part and for one moment you can ignore Azriel and what the mention of his name and title does to you. 

You furrow your brows when he is done. "A High Lady?"

There had not once been a High Lady when you— Your thoughts are cut off rapidly…that was centuries ago. Obviously things would change — have changed.

You give your head a little shake, chest heaving with a deep inhale. You've missed so much, it hurts. It is a sharp pain, almost like a dagger cutting into your chest, shredding it apart. You have missed centuries in this world. Only because of him. Because of the male who promised you the world. The male who you gave everything to you. Your soul. Your heart. Your body. You loved him and he broke you. Azriel… Your head whips into his direction, grinding your teeth so hard your jaw starts to ache. He is already looking at you, nothing but pain his eyes, his shadows nervously swirling around him. You don't even want to kill him anymore. In all honesty, you never really wanted to. But you want him to hurt. As much as you hurt. 

Inhaling deeply, you clear your mind, ignore your vendetta for a moment, and blow out a long breath.

"What do you need me for? I can’t fight Koschei. I don’t have my powers back, the amulet—"

"In our possession." He hadn’t got ridden of it. Your head whips to Azriel and then to the short, black-haired female standing next to him. She was the one speaking and now her lips are pursed, eyes narrowed into slits through which she assess you. She takes a few steps forward, gaze not once straying from you. 

"My amulet." You almost want to lunge at her, grasping the family heirloom in your hands, never letting go of it again. "I want it back…"

The amulet of Oorid had once been your most treasured possession, the only thing you could keep of your mother, and it will bring your powers back. It is right there. So close and yet so far away. Never will they give it to you just like this. Your hands lift a little and you are reminded of something else — something else that restricts you from being in full control of powers. 

"And apart from that I still have those. I want them removed." With a frown on your face you lift your hands, making the handcuffs and chains clatter. "Even with the amulet back, I can’t do much if I have to keep wearing those." You avoid Azriel’s gaze, but you give Rhysand a reproachful look. 

They want your help, then they must do something for it.

The High Lord once again shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants. "If we have your trust, you will have your freedom back."

This sounds good...and fishy. You can’t trust them. And it won’t be freedom like you are used to. Freedom meant riding with them. Hunting and haunting with them. Travelling from one court to another in the dead of night. Freedom—

"Forever?"

His eyes crinkle, and you feel a talon scratch against your mental shields. Did he truly think you would let him roam around in your mind? You had no idea he was a deamati but your wits made you react within mere seconds when you felt his power. Obviously you won't let him in.

"What do you mean…forever?" Cassian is the one asking and you bristle at him. 

"That I am allowed to be free after he is defeated. That you won’t put me in the Prison or in shackles ever again. That I am allowed to lead a life on my own."

"If you can defeat him." 

A female who resembles the High Lady jabs him in the ribs so quickly the general has no time to react, and you almost want to laugh. Serves him right. 

"Yes." The short-haired female says.

"I once was a Prison inmate as well. If you earn our trust, you shall roam freely."

"And how do I earn your trust?" you spit and each word is punctuated. You rise to your feet, suddenly towering a little over the black-haired female. Your gazes lock, power clashing with power. You flash your teeth, fangs showing. 

She has the audacity to smile. "I like her fire," she says to no one in particular. "When you prove yourself useful in destroying the Death Lord and don't spoil our loyalty towards you, then you shall have our trust."

You nearly grimace at the word loyalty because no one in this place, safe for the people you don't know, has ever been loyal to you. 

"But I can't defeat him if I don't have my powers back."

"A bargain it is then."

The black-haired female reaches out her hand and you raise a brow. You have made many bargains in the past, mostly over not that important things. Never over your freedom. 

"You regain your powers, and have your amulet back and you shall have freedom and for that you will help us with Koschei, starting with one special task now and then aiding us in ultimately defeating him."

The thin, loose nightgown suddenly feels so tight, too tight, making it hard to breathe. This decision is grand and should not be made on a whim, but you haven't got time. 

You hold her gaze…She used to be a Prison inmate too. Why would she lie about it? You think you can trust her…or at least partly. There is no one you can fully trust in this world. 

But this bargain will remove the shackles and give you your powers back. And your freedom. 

And so you accept. There is no other option anyway. You bow your hand and reach out both shackled hands, sliding one cold palm against hers. Lightning zips between your bodies and only mere moments after, a tattoo adorns the marred skin of your upper arm. Your gaze lingers on it for a long moment until—

"So shall be it," Rhysand bows his head and fetches you back to the moment. "Follow me into my office."

"First, I want these removed. We made a bargain!" You bare your teeth, holding his gaze while lifting your arms. 

His answer unsettles you.

"Az, remove them." The High Lord tilts his chin at his shadowsinger. You almost want to tell Rhysand that you are actually quite fine with keeping them only to avoid having Azriel touch you, but it is too late. And you won't ever be weak again. You hate him, and he should have any effect on you. He has touched you before, he can also touch you now. 

With the raise of one brow, you turn to Azriel and wave your handcuffed hands into his direction. "Now?"

He says nothing as he pushes off the wall, and slowly makes his way over to you, nothing but grace in his walk. Once again you clench your jaw, worried you'll grind down your teeth to nothing. 

And it doesn't get better. Not when his scarred hands carefully reach for your arms, broad fingers accidentally brushing your skin. It tingles, little sparks flying from his fingertips to your skin. 

Your breath catches.  

Using his shadowsinger powers or whatever, he opens the shackles, catching them before they fall to the ground. "Y/N—"

You step away from him, not giving him a chance to say anything. "Let's go to the office."

"Y/N, please," he tries again and seemingly he doesn't care that his family hears it.

Do they know?

Rhys and Cass didn't know about your relationship back then. Do they know now.

Slowly, you tip your chin up and meet his gaze. It is all in the look you give him, the hurt, the pain, the anger, the hate. You let him see it all and it is answer enough. You don't need to say anything.

He steps away and bows his head.

───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────

You almost shriek when your sharpened nails brush the onyx box, it’s power strong, electric, radiant, stretching out like a dark force that makes your lungs coil. It feels like death itself. 

Your breath catches in your throat, the power the little box holds so similar to your own. Death. 

You analyse the box, assessing it. How can such a little box, hold so much power? You don't even allow yourself to imagine what could be in it. 

"I think I need some books," you breathe after a moment. "And time. As much as I can have."

"We thought so," Feyre says and in the corner of your eye you see how she curls her hand around Rhysand's elbow, their little babe now peacefully asleep in another room. "Hence why we thought it will be a good idea for you to start looking for all the necessary books in our big library. You can work with all of them, whatever you need shall be yours."

You dip your chin at her, once again focusing on the box. It could be opened with old runes…maybe. Or some spells. Witches spells? You are not really acquainted with them, but maybe you need to have a look into those as well. 

"And speaking of the Library…" You turn to Feyre and Rhysand, an expectant look on your face, waiting for the High Lord to continue. 

"After a conversation with the priestesses living in the Library, you are allowed to have a room there. The Library is beneath the House and can only be accessed through the House of Wind.“

How kind, you think. You are allowed to. You almost bristle at the way the High Lord phrased it, but you veil your face in indifference and merely shrug. 

Freedom…right. Being locked into a Library. Underneath this house. That is what freedom looks like. Not. 

"Am I allowed to roam freely there."

The High Lord bows his head. "You are to stay away from the priestesses living there, but you are allowed to roam freely. The females who live in this place have experienced terrible things, we won't allow anything to happen to them again. As long as you don't cause any trouble, you have all the freedom you want to have in there, but if you do something, consequences will follow." 

You almost want to laugh. Consequences…They need your help. And why the hell should you cause any of the priestesses living there trouble? You are deadly, but you are not heartless. Not cruel in that sense of the word. 

You want to say something, to retort something, but the High Lord beats you to it. 

"I think it is a good idea for us to call it a day. You shall rest, you have been through a lot, and getting you out of the Prison and to Velaris most definitely wasn't easy for you."

Velaris…Velara. The High Lord's daughter. Rhysand's sister. Where is she? Why isn't she present. You haven't known her that well, but…you will ask about her another time. Another day. 

"I assume you want to bath and then sleep?"

You do, you really do. Today has been too much and you only want to fall into a bed, now that there is the possibility of actually having a bed again. And warm water to wash. 

Instead of answering, you only hold Rhysand's gaze and then slowly dip your chin. 

"Alright. Then end it here for today. Nesta will escort you to the Library."

You are so very tired. So exhausted. It is all draining. All too much after the century-long imprisonment. And you want to get away from them. From him. You no longer want to be in a room with Azriel. You can't stand to be near him. You can't stand his closeness.

So you find yourself following after Nesta into the Library without saying another word to anyone. And most definitely without deigning Azriel another look. 

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire

tag list wotf: @goldenmagnolias @chessebookgirl @blackgirlmagicforever @mollygetssherlockcoffee @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @janebirkln @cleverzonkwombatsludge @namelesss @sidthedollface2 @brujitafantomatico @ruler-of-hades @favsrachz @katherinejess @jesus-is-me @ashbatz @onyx-obsession @mischiefmanagers @thesnugglingduck @wandas-dream @emryb @esposadomd @marvelouslovely-barnes @landofpetrichor @sheblogs @zoe2 @leeknows-wife @secretlyhers @itsswritten @lupinswolfsbanes @auggiesolovey @going-through-shit @esposadomd @ithan-holstroms-girl @v3lv3tf0x @hibye02 @karinaligh @darling006 @just-a-social-casualty @shedreamswithstars @dr4g0ngirl @quinzzelx @shadowsingers-redhood @sirenpearldust @rhysandorian @starcrossedsan @spideytingley @historygeekqueen @starryhiraeth @fasoaurore

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hello!! I love your writing! I was wondering if you could do Alastor with a S/O who used to be a demon slayer? Feel free to delete this request! Have a great day/night!

Hehe. Interesting! Alastor be like; “of course demons exist. Why did you even kill them” but anyway! I actually really like this idea, thank you!

Alastor- All the More Demons

Alastor just laughs at you when you explain yourself to the Staff… or more specifically to Charlie. You? Hunting entities called demons. A demon slayer? What drugs did you take when you died?

Alastor, at first, didn’t believe you one bit and even ridiculed you, calling your past life as a Demon Slayer in the Tashio Era of Japan some silly fantasy that you read. Demons exist, yes, but only in Hell. There is no such things as the demons you described

Of course, you’re quite distant and uninterested in Alastor as an exchange, for the way he mocked your life as a Demon Slayer. He was alive during the 1910s-1920s and he never once heard about demons

Overtime of the overtime, Alastor decides to soften up and not bully you so hard about this life you openly detailed to Charlie(who was literally the only one who believed you) . You actually seem like a wonderful and kind person, your swordsman skills are incredible, you’re quite fast, flexible and agile for a ordinary sinner and you use something called a… Breathing Style. He’s curious how this works

And when he finds out it’s an ancient Japanese swordsman battle technique, he is surprised you’re NOT an Overlord with how strong the Nichirin Katana and your Breathing Style is. You could outspeed many of the Overlords he knows, Alastor is curious why you haven’t tried to become like him

It’s a long, slow, burning process but Alastor grows to completely believe you thought demonic monstrous human-devouring entities called ‘demons’ in an older era of Japan. Your mannerisms, your clothing, your weapons of choice and even your appearance all scream a Japanese person and scream a Japanese person from a time as old as his

Alastor finds you speaking Japanese so fluently gorgeous. In Japanese, you could recite the Bible and he’d be listening with all of his attention. It’s just a beautiful, hypnotising language he is in love with… possibly as much as he is in love with you

You had managed to put Alastor into a Demon Slayer Uniform once and you won’t deny, he looks like a really good Demon Slayer

Alastor tries to encourage you to teach other sinners to be a Demon Slayer or better yet, a Hashira like yourself. To be incredible with a sword and so fast, it looks like you can teleport. However, you insist the art of this sword isn’t that easy to spread around so he decides to drop it

Alastor is always impressed by your skills. You don’t need actual souls to beat down your enemies, you have raw skills. Skills of a refined samurai and it’s so incredible. He is like a big old fanboy anytime he watches you fight

Alastor has never worn a kimono before and when he tries on one with you, he has you put on a New Orleans old-fashioned outfit. You two admire each other in one another’s fashion styles. Nowadays, you both swap outfits for fun and it looks great

Alastor gets to hold your katana once and he’s already cutting apart everything around him. You just ask him to stick to his own magic, you felt like you were handling a child with a knife when seeing your boyfriend/husband handle your Nichirin Katana

Alastor is doing his best to catch you off your guard but it feels like you never drop your guard, your senses are refined and you always respond whenever Alastor attempts to wrap his arms around your waist when you’re not looking at him. He is determined to get you… one day

Alastor loves your Tashio Era Japanese dishes. He is a big foodie and he loves the foods you make with him. It’s so fascinating, what else do you have to surprise him with? He always ponders this question

Alastor doesn’t believe you’re weak at all and in-fact, he’ll let you fight on your own. Only when you’re struggling, will he ever jump in. He believes in your skills and your battle experience so much that his protectiveness is controllable. He feels much more pride for you than anything when you’re cutting exterminators apart effortlessly

Alastor is always the same as he is with his partners; doting, loving, teasing, playful, cuddly, protective but with a ex-Hashira partner. He respects you even more, your history and your abilities are not a display that you’re a damsel. No, it’s a display that you’re the fighter. That doesn’t mean he won’t want to play your protector, put you to bed when you’re honing your skills until the early morning ‘sun’ rises up, take care of you

“My dearest, please. Let’s put the katana down and let’s go to bed. You’ve been training for over ten hours, you deserve a rest and I’ll be right there to accompany you”

[veritasangel]

⋆ ｡⋆ any pov ୨୧˚ warnings: none ↣ {wc: 472}

It was a quiet Friday morning when Keegan first walked into the café you worked at, an inconspicuous little place nestled between two larger shops. The door chimed quietly as he came in, the cool air following him.

You noticed him instantly-not because he was handsome, though he certainly was, his sharp features were softened by perpetual five o'clock shadow-but by the way he seemed to try and be invisible. He moved with a kind of calculated grace, his steps measured and deliberate, yet somehow not.

You gave the usual smile, one that was second nature by now, "Good morning! What can I get for you?”

Keegan was silent for a moment, weighing his options on answering. His dark eyes flashed up to meet yours and held your gaze for just a heartbeat- long enough for you to feel like he was looking right through you. Then the moment passed, and he spoke in a flat, even tone.

“Just a black coffee, please. Nothing else.”

You nodded, reaching for the cup. "Coming right up- Do you want to stay in or take it to go?”

“To go," he said after a moment of hesitation. You got the impression he wasn't much into small talk, so you didn't prod further. Instead, you turned your attention to making his drink. 

As you handed it to him, his fingers touched yours for just a second, the spark of it going through you unexpectedly. "Here you go," you said, keeping your tone light and warm. "Hope you have a great day!”

Keegan's lips twitch, as if hiding a smile. "Thanks," he mutters, turning away. But before he does, he pauses, looking back at you curiously.

"Do you always smile like that?"

You blinked, a little taken aback by the question. "Like what?”

"Like you mean it." he said, as if that would have been the most oblivious thing in the world.

You felt your cheeks warm as you felt suddenly shy under his gaze. "I guess I do. It's not a bad thing, right?"

Keegan's eyes softened, and this time, you were sure you saw a small, genuine smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "No," he said quietly. "It's not bad at all."

After that, he turned and was gone. You were left standing there, pondering who this mysterious man was and why, from that little exchange, it seemed as though you had shared something meaningful with him.

Keegan popped in every Friday morning after that, ordering the same black coffee every time. Your conversations grew a little longer each time, your smiles a little wider. He was still an enigma, but there was a warmth behind his eyes, a subtle shift in his manner.

And every time he leaves, he finds himself awaiting the next Friday, just to see your smile once more.

༄ cod m.list

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[grandline-fics]

If request are open, could I ask for a pt. 2 of the siren song/hearing you sing, for Law, Marco and Ace please?

DESCRIPTION: The first time they hear you sing captivates them

WARNINGS: None

CHARACTERS: Law, Marco, Ace, Crocodile, Kid

WORDS: 2,612

A/N: Thank you for this request, I'm fond of this idea so I'm glad to revisit it with more characters. I hope you like what I came up with for these guys

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

LAW

When Law begins to ponder things he’s relentless until his curiosity is sated and the answer he sought was his. Usually these pursuits in knowledge took a small amount of time to accomplish because of how driven he would be and what he needed to know would be in one of the many hefty books in his, nestled somewhere amongst the thin papers and tiny printed words. However if the clear answer wasn’t there, at the very least his books pointed him in the right direction of an island or person who could tell him what his mind was currently fixated on knowing. This current question however could not be revealed to him through books or other masters of particular fields of intellect. No, the only person who could relieve him of this question was you. The question: what did you sound like when you sang?

It had honestly been something he’d never given much thought before. The cause for the nagging question had come one evening when he’d emerged from his study one evening and came across Bepo who was in a more cheerful mood than normal. Curious about the clear change in his navigator, Law couldn’t help but ask for the cause. It surprised Law to hear your name come from Bepo’s mouth. Then the surprise became confusion, you’d been part of the crew for a while now, why would you suddenly affect him? Obviously needing more information, Bepo continued. “I heard them sing! They’re amazing, it’s put me in a great mood ever since.”

While Law knew music could affect a person’s mood, he hadn’t seen something so strong which began to stir his curiosity more. Already he wanted to hear your singing for himself, mostly to see if the change in mood was something that happened for everyone that heard it but also because on the slightly childish reason he was annoyed Bepo had heard you sing before he had. He was aware of his attraction to you and to know that you were a singer only furthered his interest in getting to know you better. However he couldn’t just order you to sing for him, that’d be overstepping things entirely and while he was your Captain, he wasn’t going to act like you were his to order about to please his personal whims. No, if he was to hear you it would have to come about naturally. 

Sadly he wasn’t able to hear you for himself right away. With the current layout of the crew’s work patterns and the long stretch of travelling through a particularly turbulent part of the sea it meant everyone was laser focussed on their tasks to ensure the Polar Tang navigated the waters safely. This meant very little time for relaxing. For the duration of the journey everyone mostly ate their meals and went to bed in the spare windows of time they had between shifts. It wasn’t until the submarine surface at the new island that everyone let out a sigh of relief. Since you were the last one on watch you wanted more than anything to go and sleep. You could explore the island later and returned to the sleeping quarters while the others prepared for disembarking. 

Law knew the island was a peaceful one so he opted to stay behind while you slept, letting everyone else explore. He’d even let the Polar Tang stay above the water’s surface and enjoyed the quiet this rare occurrence brought. Without the echoing sound of the water enveloping the Tang, without the sounds of footsteps against the metal floors and heavy doors shutting, and without the constant whirl and hum of the engines and computers, Law found himself enjoying the  peace as he lay on his sofa, eyes closed in contentment. Then he finally heard the answer to the question. 

Through the empty corridors, the song broke out and carried itself clear and alluring. Law sat upright and looked to his partly opened door as your remarkable voice practically called to him, pulling him from his seat and urging him to come closer to the source and he went oh so willingly, it was practically hypnotic. In a blink it seemed, he was standing in the doorway leading to the stairwell that would take him to the top deck. There you sat on one of the steps, singing perfectly and smiling when you saw him approach. When the song came to it’s natural end you had a look of satisfaction on your face. 

“I’ve always been curious about how good the acoustics were when the ship was silent. Definitely better than I’d hoped.” You explained. Law couldn’t help but chuckle, glad that both of you had found the answers to the questions you’d had and that for both of you it was more than worth the wait.

MARCO

Truth be told Marco hadn’t really paid you much notice when you first joined the Whitebeard Pirates. He learned your name and face at the first introduction and some of your medical history out of necessity but because you were in Izou’s division, everything else about you was a mystery and not exactly one he’d be in a hurry to unravel. For the first months of your recruitment, polite conversation only happened in the groups and parties on and off the ship. There wasn’t much one on one time between you both so you just melded into the background for the most part, only coming into view when you were needed. As long as you were loyal to the family that was the crew, pulled your weight and worked hard that was all that mattered. 

Then after a while, Marco did begin to take a slight notice. In fights you were capable and swift, able to act without hesitation while also making sure you weren’t acting foolishly and out of impulse. Everything you did had a purpose. You also had a good sense of humour and attitude that allowed you you settle in amongst the others quickly. You also weren’t afraid of voicing your own opinion and were ready to argue your point if something disagreed with you. Sometimes he’d find himself on the receiving end of that but anything you gave him, he’d return in kind. There was no real animosity between you both, any arguments between you were swiftly settled and you both returned to your own coexistence on the ship. 

Sometime along the way, Marco began to notice that Whitebeard held a certain soft spot for you, he couldn’t exactly pinpoint where it came from or when but it had left him curious about it all the same. Still, he didn’t pry into Pops’ reasoning for this. Whitebeard’s business was his own, for all Marco knew you simply reminded him of someone from his past. Knowing he’d probably never know, Marco pushed the curiosity and settled his mind on the things that were important such as the care of Pops and the crew. 

Then one night when Pops’ pain had flared to the point he found himself unable to sleep and not even the soothing flames of Marco’s Devil Fruit could remove the ailment entirely, Whitebeard asked for you. It wasn’t long before the nurse that had been sent to get you reappeared with you following close behind. With a kind smile, you approached his enormous bed and sat on the edge with enough room to ensure there was space for Pops to remain undisturbed. 

“Rough night Pops?” You asked with a knowing look. 

“Could say that, or maybe I just wanted my children to fuss over me a little more.” Whitebeard grinned, always trying to reassure and keep things light. Despite his words, he dismissed the nurses until it was just you and Marco in the room with him. 

“So what will I start with tonight?” You asked gently. “Your favourite one from home?”

“Yeah, always like that one.” Whitebeard nodded, letting his eyes close so he could focus on Marco’s flames while you began to sing. 

Marco’s eyes widened at the sound of your voice, so strong and yet so sweet, pulling his focus from Pops’ face to look fully at you. You controlled your singing expertly, the sound just as reassuring and soothing to Pops, the song one he’d known since a boy, comforting him as an extra salve to his discomfort. Another form of healing and just as powerful as the Phoenix who continued to look at you in awe, with fresh eyes and he couldn’t help but think it was such a shame he’d allowed you to fall into the background for so long. Perhaps if he’d given you more notice sooner, he’d have been there the night Whitebeard had heard your singing while you were perched up in the Crow’s Nest and understood his soft spot for you from the beginning. 

When you finished your song, Marco uttered out a single word. “Beautiful.” You whirled your head around to finally meet his stare, eyes widened and lips parted in surprise. Cursing inwardly Marco cleared his throat and quickly looked away from the force of your eyes that he now found just has much power over him as your singing did. “The song.” He added, trying to recover his brief slip, not wanting to make you uncomfortable around him. “Pops is sleeping now. You can go back to bed if you want.” 

Slowly you looked away from Marco and you smiled to see Pops’ chest rising and falling steadily, already fast asleep and thankfully looking more peaceful than he had been. Still you remained where you sat and shook your head. “Nah, I’ll stay. He might wake up again.” You explained before looking back to Marco smiling at him, trying not to seem too eager. “You got a favourite song Doc?”

“A few…” Marco admitted with a relaxed smile, glad you had decided to stay.

ACE

It took a lot to get Ace angry; unwarranted and unnecessary violence to innocent civilians who couldn’t defend themselves was one thing, disrespect to Whitebeard was another. When someone somehow managed to combine both things at once? He was beyond furious. His hands shook as he stared at the townspeople trying to help each other whether with medical aid or helping to clean up what was ruined and find what was still salvageable. Ace ground his teeth together and balled his hands into tight fists, flames rippling over his arms in growing fury. “I’ll fucking kill them.” He snarled, beginning to step forward.

“Woah, woah there hothead.” You quickly darted in front of him and stopped his advance towards the ruined town centre. “Take a breath and calm yourself.” 

“Calm?” Ace demanded looking at you in anger. “This is Pops’ territory and someone’s attacked it. Look behind you! We have to get those bastards back it and these people!” Only a small group of you had been sent out to the island to investigate reports of an unallied ship sailing close. By the time you’d arrived, they’d already docked and begun to wreck havoc. None of you could let this stand. It startled Ace to see you weren’t taking it seriously, instead you were fixing your anger on him. 

“Take your own advice, Ace and look behind you.” You snapped harshly. “These people are terrified. We need to support them first, they’ve had enough of seeing violent pirates for one day. Pops’ people are the priority.”

“But-” Ace’s mind began to clear slightly from the angered haze that had settled over his eyes when he glanced behind you to look at the civilians. He took a slow breath and sighed. “I just want to make them pay.”

“Those nobodies aren’t getting away, we destroyed their ship the second we docked. They’re trapped here and the others will track them down in no time. Come on, let’s do what we can here first. These people need to see friendly faces.”

Ace hated how you were right. Taking another breath he calmed himself of his outward fury and nodded, signalling you to start walking towards the town. By the time the both of you came into their line of sight, you saw their initial panic fall away to relief. The older members of the town recognising you immediately and hurrying over. From them you learned that those who attacked hadn’t realised the island was Whitebeard’s territory until the sound of your ship approaching reached them. When they learned of their mistake they fled into the forest and mountains nearby. While you were glad it hadn’t been intended to be a declaration of war against Whitebeard, their attack would not be forgiven and their fates were sealed. 

Still though, you and Ace kept your minds firmly on the people, first aiding their cleaning of the mess made. Your calm personality and Ace’s naturally charming nature swiftly allowed the civilians to relax and fall into conversation with you, leading those that had been hiding with the children to come out. Immediately the children flocked to you and Ace in excitement, knowing they were safe. You grinned to see the youngsters ultimately decide in unison that Ace was the perfect target to climb on and a laugh broke from your lips to see four children were hanging onto his outstretched arms for dear life while their legs dangled in the air. 

You were happy to see that the children had managed to distract Ace from his earlier anger just as much as he had served to erase the fear these people held. Already you could feel the shift in energy and just as you’d finished the cleaning, the others in your group appeared triumphant with the news that the pirates that had attacked had been swiftly dealt with. Now in the need to celebrate, food was prepared and furniture was assembled to create an impromptu party to celebrate and turn the bad day into a good one. 

When the food was served you took pity on the children who still excitedly clung and pulled Ace who while was having fun, wanted nothing more than to eat and enjoy the meals he could smell. The others in his group, his family cruelly taunted him by declaring how good their food tasted. You laughed and rolled your eyes, taking pity on him faster than the others. You approached one of the townspeople who you’d helped locate his missing guitar and sat beside him, asking him to play a song you knew. Immediately his face broke out into a grin, he played the quick and cheerful song and you started to sing. 

Like a flick of a switch all of the children and Ace’s heads snapped towards you, immediately fixated with the sound. Some of the adults had even started to dance to the song. In all the time Ace had known you, flirted with you, adventured with you, how had he not known you sang? Even more, how had he never know you sang so beautifully? Even with him now free from the swarm of children who’d demanded his attention he was following them to where you were seated and singing, unable to look away and completely lost in the power of your voice. There was nowhere else he could possibly find himself wanting to go.

From their spot at the table, the remaining members of Whitebeard’s pirates in the group grinned at Ace’s expression and utter captivation in you. Slowly they shook their head at how their Division Commander was obviously smitten with you. They were already aware of his feelings for you and that was before he’d heard you sing. He was powerless against you.

------------------------------------------------

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773 , @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @chaotic-on-main

[firemenenthusiast]

hi hi! I wanna say I love your writing and love that you’re on the Archie train rn - I do have a lil request so I know most people think Farleigh is like submissive but I would love one where he’s like super dominant and for smut he’s like basically leaves you crying from overstimulation and makes you come a lot but like in a fun way not necessarily toxic (which isn’t bad either but yeah) (((: idk I feel like he’s a switch and could be both dominant and submissive

oh my god dom!farleigh finally out ! thank you so so SO very much anon for being so patient with me and i am incredibly sorry for making you wait this long :’(

—“casual”

dom!farleigh x fem!reader

summary: there’s a reason why you should never talk about farleigh behind his back

warning: 18+, smut, pwp, unprotected sex, rough sex (dom!farleigh), brat tamer! farleigh, free use, degradation kink, farleigh and reader sounds like fuckbuddies, cunnilingus, slapping, name calling (slut & whore) (sorry) (not sorry), praise kink, petnames (baby, sweetheart & doll) oral fixation, face-fucking, mirror sex, cock-slapping, spitting, making out, overstimulation, blowjobs, dacryphilia, throat fucking, mating press, teabagging, facial, cum eating, creampie, cervix fucking, ruined orgasm, foul language, humiliation, aftercare, fluff at the end

a/n: i really hope this is okay with what you’ve imagined anon, as writing dom!farleigh is by far my hardest work yet. literally pondered on this piece for months. enjoy ! teehee <3 also keep reading, it gets better

“can you believe it ? like— im not even asking for much but he’s just so, ugh” the girl sitting over at the end of the couch complains. you’re sitting in a circle, well not quite a circle, but it’s a bunch of girls just lounging, sitting and talking about what’s currently bothering them. and this time, the topic is boyfriends. cliché, but they can really be a pain in the ass according to these girls. you’re not sure if you can relate, given that you do not have a boyfriend. but you do have farleigh, whatever you’re calling him. he’s never bothered to put a label on it, and certainly never bothered to ask you to be his girlfriend. “oh my god yes” you hear one of the girls agreeing, followed by the others nodding and grabbing at each others thighs

“what about you ? i mean, we certainly heard a lot about farleigh” one of the girls asks you, snickering at the end of her sentence. everyone around campus is familiar with how farleigh’s relationships never end peacefully. they always end with a series of drama that apparently everyone is tuned in on. it’s like a ‘what did farleigh do this time ?’ show, that airs every couple of months. the common hall massacre from farleigh’s last hook up is still being talked about till this day and it’s been like what, six months ? you don’t know why even after seeing those messy events where farleigh always looked like he couldn’t care less, you still ended up in his bed at the end of the very party where he first laid his eyes on you. i guess when thee farleigh start shows you even the slightest of interest, you have no other option but to give in. it’s like a once in a lifetime opportunity, and one must be strong enough to resist the temptation of getting with the tall, golden skinned brunette. you— ? you just don’t have it in you.

pursing your lips, you quietly force an awkward smile to yourself, practically eye rolling. ofcourse they would be interested. you shut your eyes for a moment before blinking to every eyes focusing on you. truth be told, you dont like talking about farleigh to people, especially to answer invasive questions like this. you already feel so insecure with whatever kind of relationship you have with farleigh, so having people try to peek into it puts you in a very uncomfortable position. “what about him ?” you raise your eyebrows with your question-response in a desperate attempt to push farleigh off the topic. “girl how’s your boyfriend ? is he great or…” one of the girls tease, flipping her hair over her shoulder, trying her best to provoke an answer from you, preferrably a piece of gossip that she could spread to her girlfriends at uni.

“he’s not my boyfriend” you let out quietly, head low, correcting their assumptions that it’s an established relationship, earning a swarm of mutter from throughout the group. some of them already exhanging knowing looks and giggling to each other. well isn’t this just humiliating. “how come ?” the blonde serves you with yet another question, tone obvious that she’s just mongering for gossip. the sudden light dust prickling at your eyeballs are being wiped away by a heavy blink from you. all these questions evoke a sudden rage from within. she’s right. yeah, how come ? how come you’ve been letting farleigh fuck you anytime he wants when he doesn’t ever bother to make you his girlfriend. you’ve realised a long ago that it’s unlikely that you’re gonna be a couple but everyone seems to think the two of you are exclusive by the way none of you have been caught fucking anyone else.

noticing your expression, she decides to spare you the humiliation and just move on to her next question even though the former hasn’t been answered. the situation is making you awfully quiet, and it’s not just because you barely knew any of these girls, you just thought sitting with them in this mild get-together at farleigh’s mansion might offer you some sort of entertainment. never have you thought that you’re the one who’s gonna be the entertainment. the thick buzz at the top of your head confuses you between the exhaustion of talking to obnoxious young adults invited tonight or the weariness of knowing that you’re just a toy to farleigh. at first you didn’t really care, but after a while the boy’s starting to grow on you. sometimes he does care, the way he always walk you back to your dorm after a long night of doing your activities. but most of the times you tell yourself that it’s just common courtesy, and he could be doing that to any girl he wants.

“ah fuck that, how’s the sex ?” was her other question, which was followed by daunting whoops of teasings from the girls. still, every pair of eyes is set on you and it’s gotta be on the top list of your most uncomfortable situation. however the unusual bitterness towards farleigh at the moment gags your desire to shit talk about him to these girls. as you search for something bad to say, you realise that you don’t have anything to complain. guess you’d just have to lie then. straightening your shoulders and throwing your neck back, you lean your back on your propped up arms against the floor.

“have you ever heard that he’s good in bed from anyone ?” you start, which earns eager head shakes from the girls.

“well that’s because he fucking sucks. cums too fast, and guess what ? you’d think he’d atleast bother to make the girl-“ you gesture to yourself, “-cum first, but that’s none of his business it seems” the small piece of information being sought out to the public like that leaves the girls wide-eyed, with some of them dramatically placing their palms against their chest. you feel horrible for lying, and it just registered in your head that this will go terribly wrong knowing that it’ll spread around like an infection. “oh my god. really ?” the blonde attempts to fuel to the fire mid-burning the whole place down, her blue eyes almost popping out of her head, gouging for more info from you.

nodding, you catch yourself feeding her with yet another lie. “fucking sloppy, is what he is. moans like a bitch too. i should’ve been fucking his cousin by now, which, i don’t even know why i haven’t” the last part of this whole unbased shit talk feels too much for you, as you mentally wince at how untrue just all the things you said. the whole room is filled with various sounds of gasping, giggling and overall indefinable mutters. if you were being honest, you’re still not going to tell them how you’re willing to beg for his cock, telling him to make you his cum dump, as long as you get to be fucked by him. you raise your head to examine each of their faces, subtly biting on your bottom lips at their reactions.

it was a small get-together afterall, so you wouldn’t be suprised that some of the hallways in the house are ominously empty at this hour. you could still hear a distinct chatter and music from behind the other walls but as you briskly walk towards the left wing of the mansion, your wrist is suddenly being grabbed from behind, before your whole body is being caged against the wooden wainscot on the wall, pair of huge palms snaking themselves across your forearms. “farleigh—“ you huff out, neck craned to give access to the pair of lips trailing hot, wet kisses across your skin. the tall figure caging and pressing against your body is making you whimper out a small moan, to which he lets out a chuckle. you always make it so easy for him.

wrapping his fingers around your wrist in a firm grab, he brings them above your head before moving his lips towards your soft ones, a string of saliva shining on the flesh with each breath the both of you are taking. his touches grazes your skin delicately, dragging you into becoming an addict. you suck in a deep breath through your nose as you return the kiss, tongue darting to lick on his bottom ones, earning a smile from him. “i’ve missed you” he teases, while running his fingertips along your waistband, knowing the two of you only parted ways when his friendgroup approached him, which later lead you to the wrongful confessions with the girls earlier. words like these makes you long for his affection, spending your sleepless nights thinking about the feelings you may or may not have caught for him. he huffs out against your face, forehead resting against each other as you feel his hot breath on your skin. he leans down to chase your lips for yet another kiss, your noses nudging against each other only for him to hover over your lips with a teasing grin, making you grow desperate from the phantom kiss.

his large hands rest on the curve of your waist when you push him back by his broad chest, both your fingers sprawled over the fabric of his linen. he’s ridiculously good at maintaining his balance all while being pushed back with his head leaning down, still kissing you, his pretty curls grazing the skin on your cheeks. he’s so pretty, the type of pretty that makes you want to look at him all day, the type of pretty that you’d fall for. the way he kisses you could make anyone believe that he’s in love, yet he never cared to let you know, or tell you that this is just a fling for him. you already know where this is going, as you were on your way to find him in his room anyways. you let out a small giggle when he almost toppled back over a bump on the carpet, before he joins you with a low chuckle against your lips.

“c’mon, farleigh—“ whining, you’re half begging for him to just pick you up and carry you to his bed, which, like he could read you mind, he does. “i know, baby”. you’re clinging onto him with your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands cupping his face to deepen the kiss as you feel the growing bulge poking at your thighs. humming into the kiss, he pulls away momentarily to lean you against the wooden door of his room, turning the both of you to hold you against the door, forcing it to shut, all while his tongue licks your taste off yours.

you could feel his desperation grow from his kiss as your fingers work eagerly unbuttoning his shirt. he fumbles with the back of your dress, reaching to undo the string, heavy pants escaping both your lips, practically clawing at each other. after peeling the linen off his shoulder and pulling it down to throw it on the floor, you watch him move recklessly. “fucking get this off” he groans, as you reach to the back to help him. everything is moving so fast, and you glad it does as it seems to be impossible to remain patient with each of farleigh’s touch against your skin. it’s like a craving, an addiction, as desperation fills the thick air inside the room more then the hot breath puffing from your lips.

as soon as you’re left only with the matching set of underwear, farleigh wastes no time picking you back up to throw you on the bed, his body flush against yours as his kisses down your body are starting to get wet. between his fingers raking around your waist and his mouth sucking on the skin of your collarbone leaving wet bruises all across it, you feel yourself getting lost in the haziness, unable to mutter a single coherent sentence. all that could be let out past your lips are whines and moans, as your fingertips graze against his scalp, pulling at the root of his curls. you feel helpless, exposed and needy for him and only him, to do something. once you feel his lips kissing dangerously close to your cunt, sucking and licking especially hard on the flesh of your inner thighs, you find yourself reaching for his face. “farleigh please,,” you let out pleas after pleas, begging for his lips to be where you need him the most. paying no mind to you, he continues placing his marks across your inner thigh and the spot closest to the hem of your panties with his palms smoothing over the skin on your torso.

he’s humming in between kisses, his eyes rips themselves from focusing on marking your skin to look directly into yours, maintaining eye contact. if it wasn’t for the growing bulge in his pants, he’d be willing to spend the rest of his time just looking into your eyes. tilting his head down, he pushes the crotch of your panties to the side, breaking eye contact for a moment to look at the dripping mess in front of him, grinning at how soaked your folds are, making your eyebrows knit. the way your pussy glisten with your wetness gotta be one of his favourite views ever. feeling the ache down your core starts to throb, you can’t help the pitchy moan slipping past your lips and the sudden bucking of your hips into his face. “don’t make me beg farleigh, please” the words coming out of your mouth contradicting each other. before you could add to your complaints, you feel his swollen lips smashing against your folds, his tongue hot, licking away all the wetness collecting and dripping towards your hole. he has one hand holding you down by your waist, and another rubbing on your pussy, spreading the folds apart so his tongue could have better access. the fingers on your pussy roam down to your hole, pushing your clit upwards so he could settle his whole face in between your thighs, his nose repeatedly nudging against your clit. driving his face into your pussy, it’s like he’s stuffing his face with your essence, eager to lick away every drop of wetness dripping down your folds as he feels like nothing tastes better. he hums, sending vibrations through the sensitive nerves, fishing out another whine from you.

“gonna cum, farleigh. please make me cum” the words come out of your mouth like water, without you even having time to think it before. as the knot in your lower stomach begins to get tighter with each sucking of his lips on your folds, he knows you’re seconds away from cumming. you could feel the wave of pleasure threatening to wash down over you, as you’re willing to give up everything to chase after it, even your dignity. shutting your eyes, your fingers harshly grab at the sheets beneath you, as farleigh suddenly rips his mouth away from your pussy, moving over to stand at the edge of the bed, his eyes busy eyeing his hands that are unbuckling his belt. “what the fuck—?!” you almost yelled, anger and dissatisfaction tearing through your voice as you look at farleigh in disbelief. the orgasm that you were chasing is washing away, leaving your pussy feeling so raw and swollen.

he throws you an unbothered look with an eyebrow quirked, his lips shiny from eating you out. “sorry, apparently i’m just not bothered to let the girl cum first” the coy expression on his face obvious, the slight curl at the side of his lips quickly being stripped away. “—isn’t that right ?” he continues, leaning over with his knee dipping into the mattress, his propped arm settling beside your temple, his face inches away from your muted one. the furrowed eyebrows that were accompanying your anger dropped down, as your glossy eyes now being forced to look into his intimidating ones. you could feel that he’s not happy, but none of his expressions tell that, except that you’re fucked.

you hear him let out a chuckle as he leans back, both his knees on either side of your body, resting his weight on your torso. “you should see the look on your face sweetheart” he tsks, shaking his head at you heavy breathing, still affected by the orgasm that he just ripped off from your core. no words could be lolled out of your tongue and you could only shake your head as an attempt to save yourself. he cocks his head to the side before his eyes widen,

“no, i mean it”

moving his knee over your body, farleigh moves to the side of the bed before reaching over to cup the back of your neck, pulling you up to push you off the bed by your neck, forcing you to sit infront of the body sized mirror by his nightstand. you’re kneeling, your hands are forced to prop yourself up from face planting on the hard floor, ass is sticking out on full display giving him the perfect view. oh how he loves when you’re exposed like this for him and no one else.

before you could even react to being pulled off the bed, his fingers already curl themselves across your skin, wrapped around your neck, pulling you upstraight so you could only look at your reflection in the mirror, and his smug face while he crouches down. “look at yourself, such a pretty face-“ he starts, fingers moving to push your cheeks together, his arms pressing down your chest so you’re resting against his shoulder.

“-but so. fucking. dumb.” he says, tapping roughly on your cheek after each words.

the last part of his sentence heavy, emphasizing on how stupid you are that you couldn’t even think before going off telling people such lies. “you know what i love to do with a pretty face that doesn’t know when to shut up ?” he trails off, letting go off your face to continue unbuckling his belt, the metal of the buckle clinking, before unbuttoning and pulling the zipper down.

“as if you know when to shut up” you spit out, trying to retaliate against his words.

he offers you an amused look before shaking his head and smile. “i love when you prove me right“ farleigh chuckles as he looks up to meet your eyes in the mirror, before pulling down his pants, along with his boxers, making his now fully hard length that was straining in his pants spring up, hitting the trail of hair on his lower belly. no matter how many times you’ve seen and been fucked by him, you still think he’s huge. he’s perfectly girthy, his tip always flushes a deep shade of pink and his cock’s just as pretty as him.

he steps closer towards you, reaching down to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail before pulling you up, forcing you to stand on your knees. he looks at you with that grin you could never crack the meaning of, as you watch his other hand move to grab the base of his cock. his firm grip pulling at your scalp leaves you quiet, as you could only glance between his face, and the leaking cock in his hand. with your head in his one hand and his heavy length in the other, your eyes are on the same level of his waist where you could hear the loud sound of him spitting into his hand, as it lands on his length. the lewd, loud squelching sound of him stroking saliva all over his cock right beside your face makes you clench around nothing

sighing, he pulls your face towards his crotch before starting to slap his hard cock against your cheek. you’re starting to feel degraded to a mere sextoy with the way he’s smearing his cock all over your face, the sensitive tip tapping at your swollen lips. his long digits wrapped around the base serves a great purpose of aiming his slick length so it slaps heavy against your face, bouncing against the skin again and again, omitting loud slapping sounds. “i don’t even know what i’ve ever done to you-“ he starts, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“-but you don’t talk about me that way, baby”

he stops the slapping of his cock to wipe it all over your face instead, repeatedly moving his shaft over your nose as it makes him groan in pleasure. your pretty face is covered with the slick of saliva and precum, you hair a mess and sticking all over your face. as soon as he finishes his sentence, your entire reflection on the mirror is being blocked by his legs stepping in front of you, so he could roughly shove his hard cock past your lips, pushing it down your throat. the sudden pressure at the back of your tongue makes you gag, as tears start forming on your waterline. you’re starting to regret the things you said just for the one minute of validation. farleigh has never done anything like this to you, but you know this is not going to end anytime soon.

“shh…shh- it’s okay, im just gonna fuck this mouth slow and nice. is that good ?” he coos, his hips begins thrusting into your mouth, starting nice and slow before quickly changing to a rapid pace in a split second, not allowing you to adjust at all. he’s now properly fucking your mouth, and if you didn’t already feel like a cocksleeve, you certainly do now.

“there you go, you’ve always been so good at sucking my cock. you’re a proper slut you know that ?” he mutters through gritted teeth, both his large hands cradling your head, slamming your face down his cock, heavy balls slapping against your slicked chin from all the drool dripping down your lips. looking up at him, you try to blink away the glossiness of your eyes as you give him an obeying look, seeking for his approval. “oh that’s cute, you’re my little slut aren’t you ?” the whiny moans you’re letting out sends vibrations, further stimulating his cock. “aww mouth too full of cock you can’t even answer” giving you a fake pout on his lips, he pulls out for a moment to let you answer, yet you’re keeping your mouth shut. “i said-“ he yanks your hair as he leans down close to your face, “-you’re my little slut aren’t you ?” you almost topple back before nodding vigorously,

“yes, yes—“

“yes what ?”

“yes i am, farleigh”

your quick response earns a satisfied grin from him before your mouth is back to being stuffed by his hard cock. you try your best not to gag too hard on his length as you know farleigh wouldn’t appreciate that. even with him treating you like you’re worthless, you’re still eager to please him. maybe you are indeed a slut. his slut.

the rapid movements of your head bobbing down his shaft and his hips thrusting into your mouth makes your hands roam up his thighs for leverage, as you look up at him through your lashes. he thinks you look so cute like this, so he offers you a smile from above, the tip of your nose hitting into his lower belly repeatedly. you could feel his thrust getting even faster before one last throw of his head and he’s pushing your mouth off his cock, messy strings of saliva connecting from your lips to his swollen tip, his balls dripping with sticky translucent substance that you couldn’t even tell. could be drool, or precum, or a mixture of both of your fluids. his cock is now resting against his navel, as it bounces with every move farleigh makes. he’s now pulling you up by your arms, the state of you so pathetic that if it were to be described, you’re nothing short of fucked and cockdrunk.

“c’mon sweetheart, hands and knees. need to fuck your pussy” his instructions loud and clear, as your body is being thrown like a doll onto the mattress. and like it’s instinct you immediately crawl onto the bed and prop your ass up, your legs apart, back arching with your face dropped down between the sheets. “i know you’re a good girl” he smiles, hands roaming across the smooth skin of your ass before swiftly pulling down your panties, revealing your soaking wet puffy lips, practically begging to be fucked. “well that’s a sight felix is certainly missing out on” the sight before him makes his cock twitch, a drop of precum forming at the tip before he catches it in his fingers to spread it along his length. getting onto the mattress, his pants already discarded and pooling beside the bed.

he crawls over you to rub his length against your folds, collecting the wetness that’s practically drenching his cock, before thrusting into your hole without warning. a cracked loud moan from your lips grazes both your ears as you give up against the sheets, your sobs being muffled by the soft fabric underneath you. he’s not in the mood of making you feel good as he’s only focused on fucking the dumb out of you and letting his anger out. he’s making you take his cock like a good girl he knows you are, as you struggle to adjust to the stretch of his size. he’s angry, well more like irritated, when he walked by the living room looking for you, only to hear you talking shit about him, and telling pathetic lies with no substance. there hasn’t been one fuck where farleigh doesn’t make you cum first, and he certainly fucks you like nobody else. so when you went off feeding those plastic blondes fake gossip just to appeal to them, of course he’s mad.

his large chest is now pushing down against your back, his large hand found it’s way at the back of your neck, holding your head down that your face is being mushed against the sheets. his harsh thrusts push your body back and forth, your face pressed down so hard to the point that the only sound you could let out are heavy cries and sobs, incoherent mumbles of pleads of his name as you’re being brought to your orgasm while he’s still rapidly fucking into you. “farleigh— mngh,, ohmygod“ in a way you sound like you’re worshipping him, while he’s ball deep inside your cunt, the tip of his cock bruising your cervix.

normally he would help you chase your high down but he doesn’t care. “i’ve never made you cum huh ? you can cum all you want now baby” his words are starting to get to you, as your pussy’s starting to feel so raw. another wave of orgasm come crashing down, leaving you a lightheaded babbling mess. you’re now actually crying for him, tears streaming down your face, shoulders bobbing, as both tears and drool wet the sheets underneath. “no more,, please. s’too much” you manage to let out weakly, your fingers gripping at the poor fabric desperately. suddenly you feel like he’s grown much larger than he usually does.

looking at your fucked up state, he let out a chuckle. “but i thought you wanted this ?” he mocks, he knows that you’re just too fucked up to even make up your mind. you feel so stretched out by his girth, and the position grants him the perfect access to fully fuck his cock into your pussy, thrusting forward in a rough rapid pace into the mattress. “you think felix could fuck you like this ?” he groans, making you shake your head desperately almost like you’re being hypnotised. “n-no,,no- hm“ you let out in response, your voice bumpy from his thrusts that are making your whole body shake. the whole situation is feeding the primal urge in him, as he grunts while biting down the skin at the back of your neck, his hand grabbing at your hair, pulling your head back to lift your face off the drool-drenched sheets. his other hand is holding you close by your stomach, lowering his hand to feel the moving bulge on your lower belly.

“feel that ? that’s my cock- so… fucking deep inside you. so maybe next time you wanna talk shit, fuck-“ he half whispers into your ear through gritted teeth, as his thrusts are starting to falter. both your hot cheeks are being pressed together as he talks right into your ear. “-remember how pathetic you look right now” he finishes off his sentence with one hard thrust, his hot body pressing down against yours before warm sticky substance fills up your hole, drops of it threatening to spill from the brim. you feel his chest resting on your back, he’s catching his breath as he pants into your ear with his hand wrapped around your neck.

“oh fuck,,” he lets out, voice thick with his remaining pants as he watch the cum oozing out of your cunt when he pull his softening cock out. he’s leaning back on his heels, admiring his work, ropes of white leaking down your puffy swollen lips, a low groan escapes his lips when he notices your hole clenching around nothing, pushing out more of his cum. smiling, he reaches over to squeeze your thigh, grabbing at the soft flesh. “such a filthy whore, letting me use this pussy like a toy” he lets out, his words making you feel so dirty. “aren’t you, baby ?” he coos, running his fingers across your chin. letting out a huge content sigh before hearing you mumble out a string out words. “what’s that, hm ?” leaning down, he moves closer to your lolled out face to hear you.

“you came too quick” you struggled to let out those words, yet still determined to try and piss him off.

raising his eyebrows, he seems surprised by your little protest before you feel his fingers slowly smooth over your hair, petting your head.

“i know. and that’s your job to get me hard again”

hearing his words, instant remorse washing over you as you feel him flip you over, that you’re now lying on your back, facing him. he looks even bigger, shoulders broad and glistening in sweat, making you feel like he could cage you in any moment now. his cheeks look flushed and red, his lips pink and swollen yet he never looked prettier. your hands immediately move up to hold onto his thighs, now being on either side of your upper body as his cock is hanging right in front of your face. the remainder of his cum that is clinging onto his tip drips down, landing onto your lips before his fingers push your cheeks open, shoving his cock into your mouth as he tries to fit the whole length inside.

his limp cock feels odd on your tongue at first, but you immediately start sucking on his length. “come on, doll” he urges you, eager to be able to fuck you again. you mentally flinch at the name he’s calling you, as it really makes you feel filthy. deep down you absolutely love filling your mouth full, and sucking on his cock. anything to please farleigh. he’s thrusting his hips down to your face, circling it so now it’s his balls turn to be shoved into your mouth, before being absolutely slobbered with saliva. in no time he’s getting hard again, making it easier for him to fuck into your mouth, only to pull it out and replace it with his balls again, and doing so repeatedly until he feels just. you have your eyes closed, your lips busy fondling and kissing at each of his sack, your tongue covering them with drool.

farleigh is holding onto the headboard, grunts spilling from his mouth from how good you’re worshipping his cock. as he tilt his head down, he can’t help the moan slipping past his lips at you sucking at the underside of his balls. now that he’s fully hard again, he reaches down to grab at the base of his shaft before putting the entire heavy weight of it onto your face, rubbing his length all over your soft skin, like he did earlier.

too weak to form coherent sentences to him, you manage to drag out a mumbled “please…farleigh”. you hear him let out a satisfied hum as you close your eyes, letting the feeling of his wet cock sliding on your face takes control. the length of his cock almost covering your face as he’s contemplating just fucking his cock against the skin of your face into nothing. everything’s just so wet now, his sweaty body against yours, your face warm and sticky with sweat, tears and his cum, with his balls dripping with your drool. you’re too cockdrunk to even protest, letting him use you like a cum rag, wiping the cum off his cock on your skin, your pussy throbbing from another orgasm you just had undone just from how lewd this is.

“you make such a good whore, y’know ? im gonna need to fuck your pussy again” almost immediately after saying that, he’s lifting your upper body up, making you sit while he moves behind you to let your frail body rest against his. “let me have one last fuck okay ?” he whispers into your ear, your eyelids heavy as you slowly nod. his fingers tap at your thigh, signalling you to raise your hips. he has one arm wrapped around you, pulling you up onto his lap as you feel the tip of his hard cock slip back into your cunt with the guide of his other hand. you’re now sitting on his lap, legs bent and all spread out to give access to him. he could feel the stickiness of his cum left inside you engulfing his length, that is reaching deeper, bumping into your cervix. ”fuck, could feel my cum inside you—” the stretch of his cock against your wall is squeezing his cum back out of your hole as low moans escape both of your lips. he begins thrusting at a continued pace, much like before, making your body bounce on his lap. you let out a high pitched moan, your folds still swollen as you mumble out “m’too much farleigh- no more,, please” he ignores your whines and moans, fucking up into you like he’s been starved of it.

he reaches up to grope your tits, that have fallen out of your bra when he was ramming into you earlier. this is the first time tonight that farleigh’s even bothered to touch your nipples as he normally would’ve been too attached to sucking on your mounds by now. the lack of attention to your hard nipples got them too sensitive as you feel like screaming when farleigh tweaks one of them in between his fingers. he’s cupping one of your tits in his large hand while the other one bounces hard with each of his rapid thrusts up your sensitive walls. the sound of your ass slapping against his thighs fills the room as you start to feel your maybe 5th orgasm coming, having lost count- as his thrusts suddenly stop. “nooo,, no- please don’t make me” you start whining at the sudden stop of his movements, shaking your head helplessly to try to get him to change his mind. you know this move so well, he always make you do it when you’re on his lap.

he’s gonna make you fuck yourself on his cock.

“you know the drill pretty girl” his voice firm, not leaving any space for your antics. your head resting against his shoulder feels too heavy to be lifted off, but that’s just you being a brat. you show no signs of moving, with your arms flailing weakly in his embrace. you hear him let out a sigh before being followed by a low groan, lifting you off his lap and flipping you over. you’re now sprawled open in front of him, cold air grazing across your pussy makes you shiver. he pushes his weight down against your thighs with his hands, putting you in a mating press. all you got to do was let out a gasp before a harsh slap from his large hand stings across your face. “i gave you plenty of chances-” he lets out as you feel another slap lands on your cheek

“-but you never seem to appreciate them”

another slap. and another.

you’re moaning, enjoying being treated so harshly by him. as your tears stained cheeks turn red and a new stream of tears are threatening to spill, you try begging for mercy with a weak attempt, “mmh- please, farleigh,,”. your final whiny plea is immediately being cut short by another slap, this one stings especially hard, making you think that he hates you. he’s now grabbing at the flesh at the back of your thighs, fully pressing your thighs against your tits, before his hips start thrusting into your pussy again. wet, squelching sound bouncing off the walls as your wetness start splattering all over the sheets. the shame and humiliation makes you start sobbing again, your breathing heavy as you struggle to take his cock that’s protruding against your walls.

he notices your heavy breathing, yet he has no intentions of slowing down. “you’re breathing like you’re doing all the work, fuck— “ you hear him say. his thrusts after doesn’t last long before he immediately pulls out, his hand quickly reaching down to continue the pressure on his cock. “oh fuck. fuck, fuck—“, strings of curses leave his mouth. stroking his shaft with a tight fist, his pace rapid, desperate and sloppy before his hips begin to fuck into his fist, his balls slapping against his knuckles. “fffuck, fuck yes-” staggering moans spill out of his mouth, making him look pathetic. his voice almost cracks before he’s moving up your body, his hand still pumping his cock rapidly before he’s cumming, spurting warm seed all over your pretty face. it’s not as much as before, but your face’s still covered by his cum, your tongue licking away the drops landing on your lips. you hear him let out a deep sigh, heavy panting before collapsing onto your body.

inspecting his actions closely, your mind still hazy, your face messy with tear stained cheeks, with some still clinging onto your lashes. farleigh had wiped the remnants of his cum off your face, it was the first thing he did after coming back with a bowl of warm fresh water and a piece of cloth. he’s already dressed in his comfy clothes, carefully cleaning your skin with the warm soft cloth. he’s meticulous, like he always is with everything. you look to the side to see a glass of water and a mini chocolate bar that he’d fetched when he left the room which to be honest, you thought he was gonna leave you, all alone and still fragile. looking out the window, the sky’s already starting to gain its light as it’s starting to look a lighter shade of blue. he’s quiet, eyes focused as only his fingers are moving carefully, cleaning off every inch of your body. just as he makes sure you’re all clean and comfortable, you’re surprised when he crawls up closely beside you, snuggling down as he reaches for the soft comforter to wrap the both of you underneath it.

“i thought you were gonna leave”

“not gonna leave my girlfriend alone”

the name hits you like a boulder making you perk up, eyebrows knitted as you realised that you were never his girlfriend. you turn to face him who’s already near dozing off,

“please go to sleep” he mutters out his last words before dozing off for real, pulling you closer into his arms.

taglist: @r4vn @love-me-pls @radioloom @farleighlover @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @luckystrikerealness @juniperhasfallen @themoonchildwhofell @khxna @fuckshitslover @szapizzapanda @inglourious-imagines

dividers by: @rookthornesartistry