#that's just food all over her beak

[horatioandalice]

I got a new laptop and Beatrix REALLY wants to chew on the power cord. When I wouldn't let her, she consoled herself by chewing on the tag of the napkin I used to cover the keyboard (which she also wants to chew on)

[lunnybunny12]

Stolas x wife reader (happy families)

(part 1)

Masterlist

Requests open

A Goetia party was always a talking point in hell. And for good reason. From kings to lowborns, everyone and anyone from the Goitias were invited.

The hall was practically dripping with wealth. Ladies draped with the finest silks and velvets, in floor-length gowns and sprinkled with jewels and gems. The gentlemen, groomed to perfection, wore luxurious suits with matching: shirts, hats, tailcoats and cloaks. The smell of the fine food, collected from all across the seven rings drifted through the air along with a strong smell of absynthe and incense.

It was a classy affair, at least you would've thought so if you weren't 5 years old. In your little bird brain, you hated these parties. Granted this was your first one but you couldn't imagine anything more boring. So far you have been: stepped on, pushed and pulled in all directions, danced and if you smiled any more your lips would fall apart.

Your mother, on the other hand, lived for them. When you were small your mother would always pawn you off to a babysitter so she could be at a party. Every year she would work for at least a month to prepare for the occasion.

Not a single feather was out of place that night. Her talons and beak were buffed and polished and there wasn't a spec of anything but elegance ( and annoyance) on her.

"(Y/N)! stop fidgeting you'll ruin my dress" she crowed, dragging you behind her.

"But Mama I-"

Your mother sent you a look that choked the words in your throat and bent down to dust off your dress.

"No buts. you be on your best behaviour. I won't have you embarrass me in front of a king"

Faster than you could comprehend, your mother composed herself and shoved you in front of her.

You slammed face-first into something. Tears were pooling at the corners of your eyes when a sweet voice said "Oh goodness, I'm sorry are you alright?

The boy in front of you was around your age maybe a year older. He was an inch or two taller than you and had 2 large, kind, red eyes that met yours.

"This is my daughter (Y/N). Isn't she just... Precious" your mother said pulling her face into the biggest smile you'd ever seen.

Your eyes travelled up to who she was talking to. The man toward over you and your mother. His blood-red eyes stared down at you like he was staring into your soul.

The owl grumbled to himself before planting a fake smile on his face.

"Isn't she darling? Allow me to introduce my son... uh. Fuck, what's your name?"

"Stolas, father."

"STOLAS! of course. My son, Prince Stolas."

The young owl lowered his head earning a slap.

"Don't bow to THAT one. They bow to us." The man hissed.

Your mother grabbed the back of your neck and forced you into a bow, making you slip and fall into Stolas, who caught you.

"(Y/N)!" your mother whispered sharply, tearing you away from Stolas and dragging you behind her.

The whole time you felt your mother's claws dig into your skin making you wince in pain.

Eventually, when your mother let you go you managed to sneak away and scurried to the first place you could find, under a table.

It wasn't the worst place to hide, the tablecloth draped down to the floor on all sides so you couldn't be seen. Through your misty eyes, you'd see shadows pass by. If you weren't so upset you'd actually enjoy your little nook.

"Hello?" someone hooted to you.

You immediately dried your face and tried to stand, hitting your head on the underside of the table.

You locked eyes with the young prince, who by this point was fully under the table with you, and fell face-first to the ground in embarrassment.

Stolas crawled to you with a slight giggle in his voice. "Are you ok?"

"Yes Your Highness I'm fine. My head hurts that's all." You mumbled into the carpet.

"Here let's get you to sit up. I can't really hear you."

Stolas could see that you were upset, your eyes were still puffy and your face was wet.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

You sniffled and fake smiled "Im alright Your Highness"

"Please call me Stolas" he lowered his head to a bow

[thatonesongyouretryingtoremember]

some crazy things Shannon put in KOTLC that I love

1. Marella gets vapes ("can of flavored air") from the school lunch line, she also bought some for Sophie as an exams present

2. There is a non-alcoholic carbonated(?) beverage that gets ppl drunk (we have no indication of minimum legal drinking age)

3. there is a holiday food that looks like those swamp hotdogs you can't eat

4. kelpie urine cures seasickness and yeti pee fixes burns

5. sasquatches exist, they are green, and they have beaks

6. el dorado is real and it's controlled by goblins, to get there you ride in an egg-shaped carriage pulled by a titanaboa through the earth's crust.

7. timezones are real, elves just don't subscribe to them. all elvin cities use the same time as London (I think, based on Legacy)

8. every elf speaks and reads their language instinctively from birth, but runes still evolve over time and the Vackers have a specific accent, which is considered aristocratic and correct.

9. dwarves have an underground tunnel that makes you hallucinate

10. two known monarchs of the intelligent species got their job by sabotaging their predecessor, one of them is friends with the main character.

11. Alicorns are still not considered an intelligent species, all legislation concerning them lacks their input.

12. trolls turn into babies when they get old, they finish gestation inside giant communal honeycombs, and newborns have a bloodthirsty stage.

13. Because of her genetics, Sophie can read any type of writing in existence EXCEPT for elvin government documents (and maybe dead languages)

please add on anything else you can think of!

[kedreeva]

Lost count of how many times I've been told that peafowl don't eat/don't like fish. oh yeah? Tell that to the all-out warfare that breaks out when I bring home feeder fish.

I asked the guy at Petsmart today to grab the biggest fish in the feeder tank, since I saw some real chonkers in there somehow. I wasn't sure the peafowl would go for it, they usually get small ones, but I figured what the hell. I'll get a few, see how it goes. How it went was the fish were too big to be snatched and eaten in one motion, so there was screaming and running away with their prizes and fish being stolen from one beak by another and straight up warfare among babies who have no manners being defended by their moms who have no shame. Aris, who initially turned her nose up at fish, stealing them from her own children as well as from her wife, who was trying to call the babies over to get the fish she found for them, because Aris wanted them so badly, herself.

I can freely admit that it took a couple of tries to get them to try it out, and I had to use the darker grey/black normal "fish colored" fish to start with, and the barn pen birds still aren't sure about it, but it ALWAYS takes a time or two of offering a treat before the peafowl will try something new, and there's always some birds that don't like certain foods. But they are criminally social birds, they are puffin-level social birds, if one bird tries a treat and approves of it, the rest will start agreeing it's a Good Food even if they previously refused to eat it or touch it at all. If the first bird to the treat starts shaking their head and acting like it's bad, they'll all start doing that, usually without even trying it themselves, even if it's something they previously liked. So the trick is just repeatedly offering it until someone goes oh wait, this is delicious, and going from there.

[tonyboneysblog]

MOTHER HEN: PART EIGHT

parings: hawks x mother!reader

wordcount: 3.4k

warnings: descriptions of panic attack

note: I was laughing maliciously while writing this I hope yall know

summary: you, the mother of Fumikage Tokoyami, are just a simple nurse! Who caught the eye of a certain pro.

two weeks.

two weeks without a single word from hawks.

whatever, no time to think about him.

not when poor Fumikage has exams, sweet thing needs help!

“Fumikage, twelve times nine- cmon…”

Fumikage stared blankly at the paper, he may not look it but..he does not know his times tables.

“I-I don’t know.” He continues to stare at the paper filled with different questions you’ve written down

“Twelve times nine.”

“You repeating it isn’t going to help me, mother.” His eyes flickering towards you and the paper.

“Just guess!” You exclaim.

“110!” He exclaims back quickly.

You smack his head gently, “so close- so far…”

Fumikages head whips up, “I was wrong?!”

“By like two numbers, it’s 108.” You pat his head gently.

Fumikages head droops slowly in defeat, “I’m failing.”

You chuckle softly and Fumikages small bit of depression, truly you doubt the entire times table will be on the exam.

You tap Fumikages chin, “keep your head up, you’re not failing anything.”

Fumikages head drops into your lap, signifying that he’s waving the white flag on studying for today.

You pet his feathers gently, your son’s been through a villain attack so you suppose he can rest!

Fumikage did mention a training camp if he passed both exams, thought he wasn’t able to tell you the location since he himself didn’t even know.

You personally wanted to bring him some food when he got home sick- Fumikage could never go over to the houses his few friends were at.

he missed his mama too much, that’s what he said.

Thought your heart was it dismay, you could feel like something was off but you couldn’t quite place it? it was deep in your gut.

if you focused too much on it then it would become nauseating.

But it was just a feeling, not truly affecting your daily life!

If you remembered correctly, Fumikages exams were tomorrow- then the training camp?

well you were quite prepared, you already predicted that Fumikage would pass with flying colors- which he did- so you gave him the most delicious meal your could think of.

With a mouth watering apple pie for dessert.

Sometimes Fumikage confused you, and bird liking apples feels wrong..but Fumikage is also just human with a bird for a face.

Your son’s confusing.

Fumikage is obsessed with apples, when he used to sleep in your bedroom you could swear it smelled like a tangy, ripe apple.

then we he left, so did the smell.

and the apple scented products didn’t help, kids said he smelled fruity so he went for more woodsy scents.

never got the apple out though.

You can take the apple out of the boy but not the boy out of the apple you suppose?

You watch joyfully as Fumikage huffs down all the food you prepared, mostly for him but it could feed a family of three or four.

Fumikages a growing boy- you’re not judging!

“You excited for camp?” You ask with excitement lining your words.

Fumikage muffled out a quick “very” almost choking on his food.

“Don’t talk while eating, you’ll choke.” You point at him.

Fumikage glares at you softly, but fixed his little attitude quickly. Whipping mouth, then pointing towards the pie.

You chuckle softly, cutting the pie dutifully into a thick piece of warm apple pie.

Fumikage holds the plate like it’s a million dollar vase, like it’s valuable.

Then he basically eats it in three bites, damned bird beak.

You can tell on his face he enjoyed it, reminded you of his father but only for a second.

He always said that your cooking made his heart swell.

well he’s not here and hasn’t been for 16 years, no point dwelling on the past.

Which is what hawks is doing at the moment, with Mirko more specifically.

Mirko rests her head the bench, arms behind her head while kicking her legs lazily to a slow tempo.

Hawks is hunched over, his hand covering his mouth while mumbling.

Mirko sighs, “you know I can’t hear you right? Stop covering your mouth.”

Hawks straightens up, leaning back on the bench with a huff.

“I mean- why would I get angry at her for kissing mean?!” His voice growing louder.

Mirkos head whips over to look at hawks, “she what..?”

“Relax, it was only on the forehead.”

Mirko deflates, pouting.

“So, let me get this straight before I yell at you.” Mirko starts slow and calculated.

“You wake up from your little nightmare in her house, then she comforts you like a “baby” in your opinion- kissss your forehead, you yell at her for confusing your small brain and then storm out?”

Hawks stays silent for a moment, staring at Mirko.

“M-my brain isn’t small.” He stutters out.

Mirko shrugs her shoulders, “don’t into that stuttering habit again, commission hates it.”

Hawks sighs softly, nodding.

“Still- my brain isn’t small, I was just confused.” Hawks retorts.

Mirko sighs heavily, agitated that she has to spend her dinner break listening to hawks, “Why are you confused..?”

Hawks plucks out a loose feather from his wings, twirling it in his fingers gently.

“I don’t know..I wanted her to do that but I still got angry.”

Hawks relaxes into the bench, staring up at the stars.

“I didn’t expect her to do it I guess? I worked so hard on trying to get her to like me and when she did that- I didn’t know what to think. Kinda like I reached my goal, but I didn’t reach it the way I wanted to.”

Mirko hums, her feet tapping softly to a faster tempo than before.

“So, your just upset cause you didn’t get the kiss you wanted?”

Hawks closes his eyes tightly, “it’s not that..i guess I didn’t want it?”

Mirko kicks his leg, “You did want it- you practically vent to me everyday on how you want to pounce and kiss on her.”

Hawks scoots farther away from Mirko, “I don’t know then, I dont even now why she kissed me anyways.”

Mirko knocks his ankle again, “She has a whole kid, her motherly instincts probably just kicked in when she saw a sad little birdy.”

Hawks hums, placing his hand over his face blocking the moonlight from seeping in.

Even though hawks was devastated on the fact that the both of you have basically cut contact, Fumikage was ecstatic.

And he even gets to go to a training camp to make his quirk better, with all his friends?

he’s living the absolute dream at the moment.

Until you rudely throw a remote at him.

You hop over and onto the couch, “Your pick.”

Fumikage relaxes into the blankets you threw onto him, what’s with you and throwing things.

Fumikage always enjoyed picking out the movie, always finding gems in the dirt.

Fumikage continues to scroll through all the options, sadly not finding anything that caught his eye.

He huffs, “there’s nothing good.”

“Not true, you just have terrible taste.”

Fumikage slowly looks over towards you with a “are you serious” face, which only makes you burst into a fit of giggles.

“You’re not funny.”

You gasp dramatically, “you’d say that to your own mother?!”

You kick his arm playfully, your laughter dying down at his hardcore facial expression that he’s sporting at the moment.

Almost like he’s planning something in that head of his..

“What’s on your mind Fumi?”

“Where’s that weighted blanket?” He cocks his head to the side, which is not a thing he does usually.

You play dumb, “What blanket?”

“The one you got me so I’d stop sleeping in your room.”

Truthfully, you have no idea where Fumikage is even going with this.

“Sold it.”

“Liar.” He retorts.

you gasp again, “don’t call me a liar!”

Fumikage hums, all you do is just confirm his suspicions.

Next time he sees hawks he’s getting that blanket back.

Hawks doesn’t need any piece of you, plus Fumikage actually did in-fact use that blanket..

Only when he went to his friends though.

And maybe when you worked nights.

not his fault he always put it back where he left it, he has manners unlike another bird he knows.

What should you even do in this situation?

change the subject obviously.

“You going to that training camp tomorrow aren’t ya?”

Fumikage nods, pride swelling into his chest.

“It’s quite exciting.” He responds monotone.

“Yea I can tell by your voice.”

Fumikages face droops slightly, “if I remember, it’s starts early in the morning.”

“Your trying to get out of hanging out with me?”

Fumikages eyes shoot wide open, “no- I-i just meant that I’d have to be there early!”

You hum, “then go to bed, don’t want you all groggy and mean to your classmates.”

“Is that what your co-workers say about you?”

“Bed, now.” You point towards his bedroom door.

Fumikage chuckles out a small “fine”, making his way to the bedroom.

“Night mom.” He calls from the bedroom.

You hum, “Night Fumi.”

You didn’t give me his nightly ruffle and kiss, you doubt Fumikage would notice though.

You wouldn’t be able to see him in the morning either, work starts just an hour before Fumikage would wake up.

You also try your hand at finding a decent movie, though your efforts were for nothing.

The feeling in your stomach wouldn’t settle.

it just got worse until it made you sick from doing nothing.

You stand up, walking over to the bathroom, trying to find some medicine that would deafen the effects.

Probably just an upset stomach, you thought.

The feeling settled, slowly may you add, as you walked over to your nest.

Letting yourself fall into the mess of blankets and small plush’s, including that damned hawks one.

your hands felt- sweaty? clammy more like, you felt nervous for something but it never came.

Reluctantly, you grab onto the soft plush.

It was nice to occupy your hands.

the feeling didn’t leave, only softened.

That’s all you needed though.

After you woke up and left for work Fumikage texted you, just checking on you of course.

He inherited your anxiousness.

Though you continue to work through the day, hoping that Fumikage had fun on his small little trip.

You got less texts and phone calls but the explanation was that they were wringing him dry.

intense U.A…that could be an email.

On the third day of Fumikages training camp, you got not texts or calls.

And when you got home from work, maybe around 11:30? The nausea came back full force.

It was a gut feeling, you tried to calm yourself down but you ended up texting Fumikage a quick message to see if he was okay.

He didn’t respond.

he was probably asleep! That was the logical way of thinking.

most logical.

you turn on the news, mostly to distract your brain from Turing to the worst possibility’s.

Fumikage was fine, no one knows where he is.

neither do you.

You sit down onto the couch, nervously biting your nails.

It doesn’t say anything about U.A. which Is a good sign.

Only says something about a spotted forest fire that they’re trying to deal with, weird that the flames are blue though.

Even more news stations can be seen in the background, they never care about forest fires? It’s not like All Might of Endeavour will be there either, so why do they care so much?

The longer you watch the news, the more information released, it seems like the aftermath of an attack but it apparently has the possibility to still be continuing.

Fumikage still hasn’t texted.

You heart doesn’t drop until they say “U.A.” And “villain attack” in the same sentence.

It’s a fucking fire, and there’s students.

is Fumikage okay?

did something happen to him?

is that why he hasn’t responded?

you can feel your breath quicken, bringing too much air yet none at all at the same time.

The scream that comes from you is guttural.

Your neighbors probably think you’re being murdered, you can’t stop though.

Imagine if you didn’t get off of work.

Would you had to see Fumikages body on the stretcher?

The nausea comes back again, you can feel yourself getting lightheaded.

And sudden knock on the door knocks you from your thoughts, only for a moment.

Quickly, you walk over to the door.

It’s police. They came to tell you Fumikages dead because U.A. Is an incompetent school-

“Y/N” hawks voice calls gently.

You don’t know what to feel, why is he here?”

“W-why-“ “I heard on the news.”

You look terrible, horror is written all over your face.

Hawks holds your shoulders, “He’s okay.”

good thing for that, you practically fall into him.

Sobs rack your throat, you can’t stop crying even though you finally know Fumikage is fine.

Hawks closes the door behind him, slowly pushing you towards the couch.

trying to make you comfortable.

He holds onto you as you cry your heart out, he can feel his ache.

He was notified on the radio before the news was, villains attacked the secret training camp.

He flew like a bat out of hell to make it to your house, he thought about going through your balcony but that would’ve scared you.

He holds onto you, rubbing your back and trying to tell you to just breathe.

You hold onto him tightly, until your knuckles are white.

He brushes your hair gently, taking off his gloves beforehand.

“Y/N, calm down.” His voice is stern but gentle.

You only respond with more sobs.

“Everything’s okay, I promise you.” His voice almost sounds like he’s begging you to feel better.

To feel like it’s not your fault.

You take a big breath, trying to control yourself.

“W-where is he?” You ask slowly through hiccups and sniffles.

Hawks continues to hold you, “most likely at the hospital getting checked for any injuries.”

He can feel your breathing speed up, “he’s fine, he’s a strong kid.”

You push your head farther into him, trying to find comfort in him.

“Why’d you come.”

“…I don’t know.” His voice tender.

You hit his stomach, “I’m not forgiving you for ignoring me.”

He chuckles nervously, “I know.”

“I despise you.”

Hawks sighs, “..I know.”

You hug onto him a little tighter than before, exhaustion coming down onto your body.

You can’t drive to the hospital like this.

“Hawks.” You mumble out from his soft jacket.

“Yeah?”

“Please go get my son.” You beg him.

Hawks nods softly, placing his gloves back on and gently settling your back onto the soft pillows.

“I was planning on it.” He sends you a small goofy smile.

you can’t return it, only just a huff of amusement leaves you.

Hawks makes his way out the door and over to the a hospital that Fumikage would most likely be at.

Hawks guess was correct since he was able to Fumikage next to the vending machines.

Fumikage glances over to hawks, then realizing that it’s hawks he stares dead at him.

“Hi Tokoyami.” Hawks calls cheerfully.

Fumikage tilts his head up, “Why are you here?”

“Your momma asked me to come and get you.”

“Liar, you just gonna kidnap me and bargain my mother for her love to ensure my safe return.” Fumikage says with an 100% serious face.

Is this what you have to deal with everyday?

Hawks smiles, “No, quite the imagination you got.”

Fumikage doesn’t return it, only grimacing.

hawks sighs, “look, your moms worried sick- just let me take you home.”

The vending machine makes a soft clutter as Fumikage speaks, “How’d she find out?”

“The news?”

Fumikage makes a small tsking noise, then dropping to the opening of the vending machine.

“Get me my drink, then you can take me home.”

Hawks laughs, clutching his stomach softly.

This kid is seriously trying to make some trade deal.

Hawks walks over to the vending machine, hitting it in the middle then shaking it.

A loud clunk comes from the opening, fumikage reaches his hand into it only to have two drinks.

He grabs both, a free drink is a free drink.

Then looking at the second one, “my mother, she’s okay?”

“Slightly disturbed, but alright.”

Fumikages words suddenly quiet down, “dkd she cry?”

He talks his foot nervously as hawks nods, then Fumikage hands him the second drink.

Hawks raises his eyebrows in surprise, “what’s this for?”

Fumikage looks away, “I’m aware that your…infatuated with my mother, and I’m assuming that you comforted her when I was unable to. This is a token of my gratitude, Hawks.”

Hawks smiles, snapping open the drinks.

Two birds with one stone, Mirko. He got to technically get good with you and your son!

Fumikage doesn’t make eye contact with hawks again, maybe it hurt his pride to thank someone he apparently despises so much.

Hawks walks out of the hospital with Fumikage, who really only had scratches apparently.

A lot of the other kids had a lot worse, one even being kidnapped.

Hawks wrap his arms around Fumikages waist, lifting the two of them into the air and making their way back to your home.

The flight was quiet, not awkward like last time.

It was enjoyable in hawks opinion.

Walking through the door, Fumikage stops just to stare at you.

Your lips wobble as you open your arms up to him, inviting him into your warm embrace.

Fumikage runs into your arms, shaking.

Hawks didn’t even notice Fumikage was affected by the attack.

Your holding Fumikage so tightly, it makes hawks heart feel..empty?

Seeing something he wished he had, not you holding onto him but his own mother.

Fumikage starts to stutter, trying to not let the tears affect his speech, “mother- im so sorry!”

You mumble to Fumikage that he did everything he could’ve possibly done, that he has nothing to apologize for.

“I-i let dark shadow out of control.”

you hug him tighter, you don’t really understand how it feels to be Fumikage, how it feels to have someone else attached to you.

You can only whisper reassurance into him ears, kissing his forehead softly.

You look over to see hawks standing there awkwardly, so out of place.

The only place you know where to put him is with you.

You reach out your hand to him, he grabs it.

You whisper quietly, “thank you.”

Hawks only tightens his grip on your hand, wanting to feel the pressure of your bare hand against his but he’s unable to due to the thick gloves he wears.

Fumikages cries grow softer until it’s quiet, seemingly fallen asleep.

You smile, happy that he’s home.

But you have another business to attend to so you shift out of his hold, laying him down onto the couch.

You look at hawks, “We should talk.”

He nods sheepishly, following you to wherever you’re heading.

You open the door, sitting on the steps and patting the spot next to you.

He sits down next to you, letting out a small breath he’d been holding in.

He speaks first, “I’m sorry for being angry with you.”

You hum, almost like you’re urging him to continue speaking.

“You confuse me, and I regret..w-walking out like that..” he stutters.

His wings flutter softly, ears growing red as he covers the lower half of his face.

he mumbles something incoherent.

You giggle softly, “What did you say?”

“I-i said I enjoyed…your a-affection.”

You hum, “thank you for the apology, and compliments.”

hawks nods, his ears growing redder.

You pinch his ears softly, “Fumikage wants his blanket back.”

“It’s mine now.” Hawks says sternly.

You laugh and stand up, waiting for hawks to do the same.

“You should get some rest at home.”

Hawks nods, standing up and making his way down the stairs.

Until you grab his shoulder softly, “hold on.”

Hawks looks over to look confused slightly.

You push up his visor towards his forehead, kissing the space between his eyebrows gently.

Hawks wings puff up and almost spread to their full length before he stops them.

“There, your reward.” You say nervously.

Hawks nods, seemingly speechless by your actions.

Then making his way quickly down the stairs, bolting out of there like a mad man.

Taking off into flight, only slightly off balance and almost tripping.

Hawks quickly flies home, shedding himself of his clothes and throwing himself onto bed.

Grabbing your blanket and holding it close.

He starts to giggle and kick his feet like some school girl.

If only Mirko could see him now.

Actually- he can’t wait to tell Mirko.

TAG LIST: comment to be tagged!💕

@lost-in-horrorland @boopjuice @validveenus @qardasngan @arminsarlerts @star-the-rabid-dog @bunni-teeth81 @lightsgore @portgasdbruh @camejlo-35 @marsbars09 @tharae514 @yoongiwantsme @kimahrii @pink-jello-fish @l1vvvvv @miy-svz @bumblebeebutter @lacunaanonymoused @emmmeoo

AUTHORS NOTE:

I am genuinely so sorry that I can’t tag some of you guys, tumblr won’t even let me and I feel like I going crazy😭 I hope the people who I could tag were able to see this next part part and again I’m really sorry! But you better love me again after all that fluff😒

[1800titz]

Hi friends! I’ve been sitting on this for about 3 months now and had the spontaneous urge to share. More lengthy authors note is over on wattpad. ٩(◕‿◕)۶

This one is going to be a long, chaptered fic, and here's the first chapter!

Also, big thank you to Miss @freedomfireflies for her help brainstorming <3

WC: 6.5K

Harry thinks that prissy, pretty little princesses stowed away in his cabin, tied up with ropes like haphazard, shibari interpretations, outweigh all chests, upon chests, of dainty sapphire emblems and chunky pendants of gold. This particular …treasure, in fact, is worth far beyond her weight in pure gold. A sight for sore eyes, too. Still sopping from the sea, her low-cut neckline clinging to her flesh and her skirt sheerly draped over her parted thighs. 

It’s a nice view. 

Seren doesn’t know how she’s ended up strapped to some horribly uncomfortable stool in a rocking room that’s wood, ceiling to floor. 

Well. 

She knows that the boat she was on was a victim of piracy. She knows that the ship, aimed for Holland, met an unsightly demise at some point, in open ocean, between Rotterdam and Harwich. She knows she’d been in a cabin of the Mary when the first strike landed, when flames erupted over the forecastle, when the deck turned to screams and a beautiful morning of calm skies, wisps of white she’d admired minutes prior, meant virtually nothing to the tightening in her chest. 

The pirate leans back against the wall. His eyes, like emeralds, wind over her shape. She grits at the balled fabric between her teeth, chest heaving. He’s a man — a man’s man, unlike in appearance to the men she’s used to spending her pastime around, back home. The kinds who wither at the sight of the wrong fork at the dinner table or something, and turn their noses up at the thought of carrying something heavier than forty pounds. The kind whose hair coils pristinely, seemingly solidified rock in place. The kind who carry umbrellas to ward off the glaring rays of the sunlight as they stroll through the courtyard of shrubbery in their fancy shoes and fancy garments. This man is not that type of man. 

He’s different, she can see it just in the way he carries himself. He’s not scared to get his hands dirty, he’s not scared to do the work. The crest of his left cheekbone wears a scar, a nick, so small she wouldn’t see it had he not stepped into the buttery beam of the daylight cast through the little window on the precipice of wall and ceiling, particles of dust dancing in the makeshift spotlight. His fingers, adorned with chunky rings, his hands — they’re calloused, like a laborer. She can see it from her view. His garb is simple, clad over his skin for purpose and comfort, solely. 

But simple isn’t the term she’d deem best to describe him, not with his myriad of accessories, from the trinkets glinting from his holster, to his plethora of rings, to the mysterious, rusted key that dangled in the glen between his pecs. That one’s highlighted against bare skin in the vale of his haphazardly unbuttoned shirt. From there, she can see ink over his torso, carved in shapes over swarthy flesh. All sorts of pictures; beaks, and wings, lines of careful shading and others of jet emphasis; thicker, deeper sketches in contrast.  

He’s clean shaven, which is unlike any pirate Seren’s ever heard tall tales of. His mouth is pink, cushiony in shape, and when the corners of his mouth turn up, dimples wink awake beside the curl. An even slope of a nose, and jade irises that brew with mischief. Seren can almost see the way that the flinty shade would brew with a storm, like the sea. If he wasn't a pirate of the boat that’d throttled her own, sent it spiraling into the ocean as nothing but husks of chipped wood and dying ember, maybe she’d find an alluring quality to him. But it’s not food for thought. 

“Should we try again?” he prompts, in his tantalizing cadence. 

When she’d heard him speak, for the first time, she was floored. An Englishman. An Englishman, youthful and spry,  sailing a pirate ship, and pillaging when so much more could be in the books for such a man. So much potential, wasted. What a crying shame. She’d heard of pirates, of brutish criminals from her homeland, but they were always, for some reason or another, older, unprepossessing, scarred and crude with unkempt beards and a lack of morals, too far gone to redeem. They had eyes much too hungry for riches, and lewd, groping hands that were much too focused on flesh. Seren eyes his hands. They’re colossal. He hasn’t touched her in that way, not like that, but the lazy smirk over his plush mouth, the way his irises rake over her neckline, down the meshified front of her dress — that practically urges her not to count her blessings too soon. 

When he squats just ahead of her, watching her in pause, his eyes glinting with this sort of condescension, because she’s indisposed and at his whim, Seren wishes her legs weren’t bound to the legs of the chair. She’d kick him, if she could. She’d scream, and kick, and claw, and—

“Are you going to start shouting again? Is that what you’re thinking about?” he murmurs, the corners of his mouth buckling. When she’s unable to respond, for obvious reasons, the man cups his palm over the shell of his right ear and twists his head a tad, leaning towards her a smidge. 

“M’gonna need an answer, if you’d like to me to un-gag you. M’specifically gonna need a no,” the pirate prompts, a jesting air to his tone that Seren would love to crush. Her chest is still heaving from the last screaming fit, from the first time he’d tugged at the rope pressing to her cheeks and pulled the smushed fabric off of her tongue. His mouth twitches wryly. 

He plants his forearms onto his thighs, casting his gaze to her as he weighs out the options, lips crooked, but eyes narrowed, just a bit, in a way that wordlessly suggests she comply. 

“Let’s give this another go.” 

When the man digs his forefinger under the abrasive rope and yanks it down, over her chin, and then plucks at the outside of the makeshift gag, Seren doesn’t nip at his fingertips. She’d tried that, the first time, but he’d retracted before her teeth could come into contact, his mouth jolting at the fire within her he’d underestimated. She expected a smack, she’d expected her neck to twist as her cheek bruised in response to the attempt, but he’d just stuck his tongue against his cheek, all mirthy, until she’d started to scream. Then he’d gagged her again. 

So. 

That was a failure. 

The second the back of her throat meets the air, rather than the garbling cloth, the young woman starts screaming. Again. He’d kind of expected it. It’s a very lovely attempt, she’s quite loud, and all, but unfortunately, her efforts are sort of moot. That kind of thing tends to happen when you’re miles, and miles, and miles out in the open sea aboard a ship of men who work for the opposing team. Harry would clap if he wasn’t putting on a show of tucking a finger into his ear at her shrill cries. Eventually, he just watches her, letting her scream for a bit, and she holds seething eye contact as her help rises in pitch. 

“Okay— alright,” Harry shakes his head, balling the cloth, daubed with her saliva, and shoving it past her lips haphazardly. She attempts to spit, but can only wriggle as he presses the rope back over her mouth like the task is effortless. 

For a moment, neither of them say anything. The princess can’t. Harry tuts. 

His tone carries notes of amusement when he tells her, “You’re quite pitchy. D’you know that?” 

Seren stares him down. 

“Have you got rocks in your head?” his lips nearly jolt up at the blunt nature of his own inquiry. They don’t. “I tell you not to scream,” he waves with an arm, “you scream anyways. I say, let’s try one more time, because— you know. Maybe you didn’t get the memo, the first time.”

The princess watches him talk, bemused. He gestures with his arm like a tired parent, stressed and lecturing a menacing, little child. 

“And you yell again. So I’m wondering, have you got rocks in your head?” 

Seren says nothing. She does wriggle in the restraints, like his question has insulted her enough to launch at him. But she stills when he squats ahead of her, once more, her heart hammering behind her ribcage. 

“Who’s going to rescue you?” the pirate asks. It’s obviously rhetorical, and he knows she can comprehend that much. When the roll of her chest slows and she settles back, he can see it in her eyes that his point has left her crestfallen. His mouth quirks, and Harry presses again. “Who?” 

When he knows that the message has sunk in, when she stares at the wall behind him, blankly, the only evidence of her consciousness being her glazed over gaze and the flare of her nostrils on every inhale, Harry sighs down at his palms and shakes his head. 

“I’d just like a chat.” 

Seren twists her head away. As much as the binding over her neck and face allows for, anyways. Harry tuts. 

“So glum. You’re alive, aren’t you?” he cocks his head, voice low, “You’re not at the bottom of the sea. Not like your little boat.” 

Those words hit a nerve, he can see it in the way she side-eyes him, the flame reignited, kindling in her scorching gaze. The pirate nods down at his hands, twisting a ring with a ruby red gem, like a shitty mockery of a moment of silence. 

“It can’t possibly be comfortable, sitting with your mouth full, like that. And you must be thirsty, what with all that saltwater you were gargling,” he raises a shoulder, a coy reasoning to his speech. 

Seren doesn’t want his stupid water. He’d probably poison her, have his way, and roll her off the ship, back into the raging waters he’d pulled her from. Harry blinks. She doesn’t offer an inkling to show that she’s willing to comply, but he stands and reaches for the rope, digging the pads of his fingers under the binding, over her cheek. His forefinger brushes the corner of her parted lips. 

“Third time’s the charm.” 

Though, he doesn’t sound the least bit convincing, not even to his own ears. He cradles the square of cloth between his fingertips and listens to her screams for a moment. 

And then he startles her when he starts to harmonize with her screeching pleas. The first one is enough for her vocal chords to stutter, for her to jolt back in her seat, alarmed. 

“HELP!” Harry calls, stretching the vowel outweighing her own scream in volume as the young woman’s own dies off, and the princess balks, startling in the ropes at the sound. He takes a pause for a deep breath, and screams again, “HELP!” banging on the wooden beams over the ceiling, bumping with his palm loudly, in an outrageous display that’s clearly meant to taunt. The sound of him striking it, alone, causes her to jump in her restraints.

He’s unhinged. Seren is convinced. Her spine straightens out like an arrow, and her shoulders square as she ogles the bizarre display, watching him strike over the ceiling, the walls, stamp the soles of his boots against the floorboards. After a second, he settles down. His hand is crooked against one of the beams overhead, and his gaze roves over her slowly. Purposefully. The corners of his mouth curl up sardonically. 

“It’s not a very nice sound, is it?” 

He’s deranged. His screws are loose, Seren decides, her eyes still wide as the racing pace of her heart settles in her chest — but any man who sinks ships for fun, in the open sea, who sails and pillages, and murders innocents with a hunger for riches, has screws loose. These aren’t insightful revelations. Maybe she’d just expected him to be less …bizarre, in their interrogation. He was going to get his answers out of her — they were his, they were going to be, and there’s no kidding about it — but the young woman is unsure of what answers he’s looking for or why. Why, why, why. Why did these pirates sink her boat? It was nothing but a small ferry in comparison to the opposing monster of a galleon. It wasn’t even a merchant ship, there were no riches to be stolen. Ironically, the pirate reaches a hand out, and Seren fidgets until his fingers clasp over her ruby pendant. He lifts it from her skin with prodding fingertips and a gaze of scrutiny. 

She won’t give him answers, the princess decides. Whatever dialogue he may want from her, she won’t comply. She doesn’t know what he has in store for her lack of subservience, but she doesn’t care. She will not bend her will for this mangy brute. 

“This is a pretty piece.” 

Loose tendrils, clumped wetly, sway as she jerks her neck to tug the pendant from his grasp. She fails. His digits twitch and flex over the pendant, and the chain digs into the skin at the back of her neck with the faulty motion. The corners of his mouth quirk up as the princess makes an mmph. 

That’s a pretty sound. 

“M’not going to steal it. What kind of a man do you take me for? We’re good men here, on this ship,” the pirate declares, a sort of vehement passion to his statement, but the crook of his mouth says it’s an unlikely story. 

So do the remnants of her boat, somewhere at the bottom of the sea, Seren thinks dryly. Maintaining eye contact, he lets the pendant settle back between her collarbones. It is a pretty piece, Harry wasn’t lying. Real gold, too — no princess would wear something less. But he’s got no need to pilfer it from her. Every molecule of her being, every cell, will pay out tenfold the cost of the necklace. It’s with that thought that he fixes the gag back into place and leaves her, trussed to that chair in the cabin. 

“Ta,” the pirate bids in his slow roam towards the door, a glance aimed over his as he tucks his fingertips into the belt holstering his array of daggers, one handle bejeweled. The look he fixes her is sure, the kind that’s relaxed, but showcases that his word is final and will be the outcome. “Chat soon.” 

Fun fact; being tied to a shoddy, little wooden chair for hours on end fucking blows. Especially when your hands are bound, in such a way where the rope weaves through the pegs of the back of the chair, keeping your joints wrung together tightly. It’s really aggravating to have a coarse rope, its weaving splintered with pinprick-y tufts, stuck up over your cheeks to hold some sordid rag in place between your teeth. 

It’s safe to say that the experience is not one of Seren’s most favorite past-times. She’s not sure how much time has passed before that heavy wooden door creaks open on its hinges, again. Only a few hours, it must be. The crack of a window behind her hasn’t broken with nightfall, though the light cast through its opening has dimmed, if only a little. 

It’s the same pirate as before. All glimmery jade and the bare vale of tanned skin from the unbuttoned sector of his shirt, where she makes out a faint dusting of chest hair, between his pecs. 

The princess is still a gorgeous view, in Harry’s opinion. Her thighs are still splayed, but her cream dress has dried some, now, and so has her hair. It’s wild, mussed and frizzy. A half-soaked clump rests over one of her eyes. 

“Hello to you, too, darling,” he says in response to the glare she fastens him with through the one that’s visible, like instant daggers. The corners of his mouth crook. He ambles toward her with a steel cup of …something. Something mysterious, something unknown, something she eyes warily up until the point where he’s towering over her. The young woman tears her gaze away, casting it up to his handsome face, instead. 

He pries and tucks his digits up under the rope that’s settled over her cheeks and drawn ruddy hues, but he pauses before he pulls it down. 

“Y’gonna get loud?” 

Seren doesn’t say anything. In fact, she sort of can’t, which is quite nice, Harry thinks, but she doesn’t even make a garbled sound to appease or amuse him. The captain is thankful for what little fragments of peace he’s been granted before he’s forced to endure her ludicrously grating screeching. He weighs his options for a moment, but ultimately, tugs. 

Of course, the second he’s pulled the cloth out, the young woman is screaming, of-fucking-course she’s screaming. And at this point, it’s so obviously a ploy to irritate him, and Harry would laugh if the whole display wasn’t so vexing. There’s a tick in his jaw when he sets the lip of the tin cup to her parted, strawberry mouth, roughly — and he wouldn’t be so rough if she wasn’t so fucking loud — and tips. Instantly, that shout is garbled by liquid. It morphs into a cough and a much more tolerable string of sputters, as water leaks over and drenches down her chin, her chest, the front of her dress. 

“There we go,” the pirate says, the smooth baritone of his cadence louder over the fit of her coughing, “Attagirl. That’s much better.” 

He doesn’t tip more of the beverage into her mouth — a ransom on a princess who’s drowned in her own lungs is worth virtually nothing — and lets her cough and sputter a little longer. She strings together a sequence of breaths he deems good enough, before he smushes the rim of the metal cup back against her bottom lip. 

“Drink,” Harry advises and nudges the tin back in a way, again, so that the liquid sloshes and spills out into her open mouth. 

This time, she doesn’t cough. She expects it, the water. The princess affixes her top lip lower to siphon the beverage and takes a few swallows. Harry watches her throat bob, and he watches a little rivulet escape, too, dribbling down the corner of her mouth in a little streak. It drips down her chin, down her neck. His pupils follow the trail. He gives her a little break part-way, once the tin is close to empty and her neck is craned back with the swallows. He draws it away. Good. That was good, nice and easy. As easy as it could be, given the circumstances. 

Except she fixes him with this horrible glare, again, as he pulls the cup away. This glare that speaks volumes, this glower that should warn him of his error before he lets it happen. Harry doesn’t catch the drift. Only a glimpse of her cheeks puffing before she puckers her lips and spits the remnants at him, coating the bottom-most half of his linen with a mist of the water. His belt too, and a bit of his trousers. 

And then her mouth is empty and she’s just scowling at him, head tipped down in a way so that the chunk of her frizzy tendrils settles back over an eye. Harry doesn’t waste a second before angling the cup, miffed, and flinging what little water is left in the cup right back in her face. 

And the way her eyes screw shut, the way her lips fall open in silent appall the second he returns the energy, (except, he’s far more polite, in his humble opinion. He doesn’t spit at her like an improper animal), when she’s doused in the chilled liquid, and it coats the face-framing layers of her hair, her lashes, and drips down her chin — that’s the highlight of his day. 

He doesn’t instantly fix the gag back into her mouth, or slip the rope back over her irritated skin. He watches her, his jaw set, and when the young woman opens her eyes, she sees that storm brewing, manifesting — the kind she’d only imagined prior, in the flinty green of his irises. Like he’s harnessing his own composure. But then he takes a step back, and just. Leans against the closed door. Like he’s scoping her with his gaze. Like she’s just this shiny thing for his sight to pore over. 

And Seren thinks that feels worse than if she were to face the bite of his skin against her own, the swat of his palm against her cheek. She’d rather that, honestly. 

Her skin is cold from the water. She’s still sort of reeling that he’d done that, to begin with. He’s drumming the pads of his fingers against his bicep, over the nearly-sheer, cream sleeve of his shirt when he asks, a serious note of authority to the molasses of his speech, “Do you know who I am?” 

Seren curbs parroting the question wryly. As much as she’d love to tell him her father will torch the ship he rides upon and hang every member of his crew, him and his stupid fucking dimples included, she’s sure that all she’ll receive in response is a grating twitch of his pink mouth. 

“Hm?” he prods, making a show of cupping a palm behind his ear and steering his torso forward a smidge, half-expecting her response to be a series of shrill cries, for the hell of it.

Her answer is not one he expects. Frankly, the man doesn’t expect an intelligible response, the history of her opting for incoherent shouts, considered. But she speaks, afterall. It’s soft in decibel, feminine, and pleasant — her voice, unlike the aimless yelling he’d become accustomed to. Even still, it carries that undeniable note of derision. 

Seren tells him, “Someone …terribly disturbed.” 

Harry almost can’t help the way his cushiony mouth quirks. 

Almost. 

“Disturbed?” he scoffs, sardonically mirthy, “She spits at me like a fucking …filthy animal, and I’m disturbed. Aye, I’m disturbed.” 

The princess makes daggers with the gaze she sends in his direction. He lets her simmer in the wake of the light insult, for a moment, just drumming over his bicep, his mouth twitching in a kind of way that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“I’m the captain of this ship,” Harry supplies softly, jade narrowed. 

There’s a twitch to her face then, something that slots by and withers in the blink of an eye. Something like recognition. And, fucking finally, Harry thinks — he can practically hear the angels croon at the crumbs of reception, from her, to his authority. 

“That means,” he motions out with the cup, his other arm still crossed, fingers wrapped about his waist now, “I’m in charge.” 

His voice is soft-spoken, a croon that spells it out for her, if she hasn’t already caught the drift. 

“I’m in charge of this ship. This crew,” he takes a step forward, ducking his chin as his eyebrows tip up a bit, “And you. And that means I’m in charge of what happens to you. So don’t you think it’s in your best interest to behave?” 

If he expects her to bow down and kiss the toes of his scuffed boots, the young woman doesn’t bite the bait. 

“You’re nothing but a mangy sea brute,” Seren declares, then, her chin held audaciously high, despite the ropes binding over her breasts and the foreboding ocean that sways beyond, with ravenous threat. He could lug her off onto the deck and chuck her off the plank, tied just like this. 

He doesn’t.  

He just stays leant against the wall, arms crossed over his bare chest. 

“Mangy sea brutes,” the pirate weighs her words, nodding slowly as he purses his lips in deliberation. And then his brows pinch together, “that’s quite insulting, actually. I take pride in my appearance, I’ll have you know.” 

“Mangy,” the young woman confirms, venom in her tone. 

The pirate props himself up and off, taking a languid step, each syllable of his cadence laced with condescension, “Now, rugged—“ and open mouthed smirk, a nudge with his chin, “I’ll accept. You don’t think I spend time in front of the mirror, darling? Mangy. What a rude word. I wasn’t aware that Siren, Princess of Essex was so abrasive.” 

There’s a flicker of something in her eyes when they flash to him — something like sharp surprise, mottled with pique. Like she didn’t expect him to know who exactly he was harboring upon his ship. The corners of his mouth crook. She’s seemingly appalled that he’s done his research. The glint of shock is gone, as soon as it shows itself. 

“Oh,” the captain takes a slow step forward in this sort of way, as if his body language is entirely meant to taunt her, hand in hand with his tongue, “I see. You thought I didn’t know who you were. Just some nameless, pretty little thing on my ship.” 

It’s a purposeful dig — the mispronunciation of her name. It’s only a vowel off, it could be chalked up to simple error, but it’s blatantly to mock her. Really, it’s a funny little dub since she enjoys spending so much screeching like the nuisance of a blaring alarm that just won’t shut off. It’s meant to demean her, to belittle her, because not even her name, blue-blooded and all, is worth correct pronunciation. That’s what she seems to hone on from the whole revelation, Harry finds. 

“Seren,” she corrects with bite, that same glower she’d worn prior reincarnated. 

The man takes another step. He cups behind his ear, and Seren promises herself that the moment she’s freed, she’ll personally chop off his stupid fucking ear for all the times he’d cupped behind that shell of it that way, so condescending. “What was that?” 

“Seren,” the young woman scowls, “Seren, Princess of Essex.”

He pauses, a cinch in his brows with this patronizing nod, like he’s weighing her correction, and then he tells her, motioning with an arm as the cinch relaxes, “Siren, Seren. Tomato, tomato.”

He motions with his palm nonchalantly. She wants to bite at his fingers. She doesn’t. 

“How dare you?” the young woman says instead. 

Harry’s mouth quirks. How dare he? What a pompous inquiry, molded by prissy lips. 

“How dare I?” the pirate repeats, and then just lifts his shoulder in a casually apathetic shrug. He takes a third step forward, raspberry lips smug and curled, “I just… dare.” 

And before the princess can voice her obnoxious protest, he shoves the cloth into her mouth and tugs up the rope, plucking a garbled sound of anger from her in the process. 

The silence is wonderful. 

By the time Harry returns to her for the third time, it’s well past nightfall. Light stops leaking from the crack of the window. Seren watches the shift, the way it rolls as the hours tick by, in the room. It morphs from behind her, its bright gold slipping into a darker orange, mottled with pink, and then dimmer, and dimmer, and dimmer, as minutes leak away, until all that’s left is dusk and the glow of the moonlight. 

The door creaks. She almost doesn’t see it, but she hears the pad of his boots over the wood and twists her neck to catch the sight of his legs as he steps through the threshold. 

“Honey, I’m home,” the pirate calls. 

Her eyes strain their sockets to catch the moonlight cresting off his cheekbones as his head dips, the dimpling that rises awake beside the corners of his mouth as they turn up at his own jest. He’s holding something. The captain winds around her, through the coat of darkness, and settles somewhere she can’t see. A thump, like something being set onto a table. Then, soft breaths fill the void of the silence. A strike of a match. Her eyes are forced to adjust to a warm, buttery glow as the little beam of fire, merged to a lantern, and then another, sends gold bouncing wall to wall. 

That’s when Harry sees that she's managed to make a home for herself on the floor, the chair she’s been restrained to tipped on its side. He almost doesn’t think anything of it, for a split second, but then, as the pads of his digits work buttons through their slits to disrobe, the pirate casts his gaze up for a double take. A twisted coil of satisfaction blooms in his chest as he observes her, the thought that whatever faulty maneuver she’d made to escape had resulted in this, and, well. That makes something joyful and mean bud. 

Seren listens to his boots, the step of them slow against the floorboards, until she sees him towering over her, in her peripherals. Her pupils shift. 

“Comfortable?” his brows climb with emphasis. The work of his fingertips over the buttons on his shirt are sluggish. Tired. She notes that motion, too — that fact that he’s actively shedding clothes. Nonchalantly. And it must show in her eyes, then. Something vulnerable, something uncomfortable, something raw, and petrified, because, yeah, she’s a petulant, little princess strapped to a chair in his cabin, against her will, and she fights him tooth and nail in every instance that he comes to visit her. But she’s a princess strapped to a chair, against her will, and it’s nightfall, and his skin is growing more bare, square inch by square inch, as the seconds pass. 

He must note that — whatever that shows, because the quirk of his priorly mirthy, strawberry mouth slips a tad. And then his features shape something relaxed. Something tired, again. Like he’s too worn. 

The sarky comment has those same traces of exhaustion seeping into it as his dismissive gaze disengages, honing on the work of his digits as he loops the final button through, “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. You’re not my type.”

The cloth slips apart, showcasing more skin. A line of hair from below his belly button, in soft, dark wisps that melts off behind his belt. Sturdy muscles of his abdomen that ripple as he moves, chin ducked—

His palms cup over the belt of holsters, and that clinks as he discards it, too, winding around to, she assumes, set it somewhere. And then, more skin to pore over when he returns, the sharp cut of a V, decorated with laurels, emphasized by the low hang of his trousers. He cocks his head down at her, like he’s contemplating. Contemplating what, Seren’s unsure. He moves out of her line of sight again. 

Her arm aches. She’d tipped over onto it what felt like hours ago, and it’d taken the brunt of the fall, lodged against the side of the chair with the situation of her joints being married in the bindings, behind her. She’d managed to roll forward on her shoulder, just a tad, so that the press against it wasn’t constant, but it still fucking hurt. Her palms, down to the tips of her digits, were numb, she had this heinous crick in her neck, and she’s sure that the moment she’s able to stand her tailbone will hurt like hell. If she’s ever allowed to stand again. Maybe he’ll hurl her into the open ocean, strapped to this godforsaken chair, afterall. 

For now, he just hauls her up. His touch — warm — skims the opposite arm before his palm wraps over the beam over the back of the chair and tugs, leveling her with ease. The young woman squeaks against the gag as she hovers, terrified to drop straight onto the limb again. She doesn’t. The pirate sets her straight with a tired grunt. His sight scales her arm, the one she’d toppled onto, and Seren can’t see, but she assumes it’s not in the most pristine condition. And then his touch smooths over the ache, a crease over his brow bone as his eyes pry, and she bristles. 

His mouth twitches, but it’s tired. Tired after having to deal with her, tired from whatever he’d spent his time doing beyond the cabin. Tired after sinking her ship and taking her hostage, Seren thinks bitterly. How exhausting. And Harry takes his hand away. 

From her new, upright view, she can see that little metal cup — the same one he’d brought her hours earlier. He’s set it onto the table, and she knows it wasn’t there before, which means he’s brought it with new water. Seren turns her head to face it. It’s the most she can manage given that she can’t tell him what she wants, what with the gag and all. 

“Thirsty?” he notes, chin over his shoulder in her direction as he shimmies the sleeves of his shirt off. Seren eyes the expanse of naked skin as it expands, from cuts of muscle to ink sunk into the flesh of his arm. Certainly, if she wasn’t before. 

The princess doesn’t answer. She can’t, and she’s not going to resort to a string of pathetic hums to get his attention. The captain sets his shirt onto the table in a pile of disarray, beside his belt, and takes the cup. When he makes his way over to her, Seren’s eyes don’t follow his figure. And for a moment, there’s only a deliberative sort of silence. She doesn’t look until he talks, until his tone is far more serious than she’s heard thus far. 

“If you spit it at me again, I will personally make sure you lick it back up, off the floorboards.” 

And wisely, she doesn’t spit the liquid back up at him when he tugs the gag free and tips the rim of the cup against her mouth. Seren doesn’t doubt he’s the type of man to follow through on his words. But that’s not why she drinks — she drinks because she’s fucking thirsty. Her tongue’s gone dry, and the back of her throat pinpricks with an uncomfortable soreness, and because the lukewarm liquid feels good spilling down her throat. She cranes her neck back, throat bobbing, and doesn’t stop until he’s pulled the cup away himself, and a little rivulet of water dribbles down the corner of her mouth. She takes a big gulp of air and expels it. 

And then, with angry sorts of eyes, the princess declares, “I’m hungry.” 

“You’re hungry,” the pirate mirrors, but it’s only wryly amused — his tired, sardonic smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and he sets the cup back onto the table with little urgency to get her food. “We don’t offer room service.” 

“You haven’t fed me once today,” Seren declares indignantly when he winds behind her, out of sight. And then there’s a sigh and a creak, the kind that seeps from mattress springs compressing. “This is— this is cruel, I’ll have you know. This is torture, this is—“ 

“Thank you for your honest review, we’ll make sure to take your feedback into account,” Harry chimes at her in true, facetious fashion, scrubbing over his eyes with a palm as he knees his way onto the bed. And then the pirate tells her, with a more serious note to his drawl, before she has a chance to interject with another complaint, “If you’re going to talk all night, I’m going to put your gag back in until the morning.” 

Seren doesn’t say anything. Finally, she doesn’t say anything at all, and it’s splendid. It’s peace and quiet, and all he hears, for a perfect moment, is the creak of the wood and the subdued roar of the waves. 

“I don’t want to stare at the wall,” the princess speaks, eventually, like a petulant child. “Why am I staring at the wall?”

“Because …that’s the way the chair’s facing,” Harry responds, matter-of-factly and almost instantly, sure that a note of irritation has managed to teem into the words despite his best efforts. He will not let her know that her efforts of poking are chipping at his composure, he won’t. 

And for another moment, Seren doesn’t say anything. He lets his eyes drift shut. 

“I want to face you,” the princess says, eventually, and her tone implies she’s taken the bridge of silence to build the phrase up into something more demanding, something royal and authoritative. If he wasn’t so fucking tired he’d laugh. 

“You want to watch me sleeping?” she hears the pirate from behind her, his honey-smooth drawl grown raspy and lower from, seemingly, exhaustion, “That’s an odd request.” 

Her brows furrow as a scowl paints her mouth. The bed creaks in the gap of quiet. Every hair stands on end when, suddenly, he’s inches from her, his presence looming and warm from behind, with calloused fingertips brushing the side of her neck in their venture towards that godforsaken gag. 

“Just turn me!” Seren shrieks, “Just turn me, and I’ll be quiet!” 

He doesn’t put the gag in. He winds around her, hand still on the rope, his features shaped with apathetic seriousness, “If I turn you because you want me to turn you, what good am I at putting my foot down? Hm?”

Seren blinks up at him.

“Please,” the princess tells him, hushed and earnest, “I don’t feel …safe.” 

His brows twitch. There’s something that blooms in the jade at her admission, but it flits by, gone as quickly as it’d appeared. And then his brows furrow, and he looks absolutely exasperated, the subtle downturn at the edges of his mouth emphasized with the roll of that same jade. The pirate scoffs, and his boots stomp over the wood, each step an inclination that his frustration has leaked into his body language. 

“I told you—“ the legs of the chair screech against the floorboards — he doesn’t even grunt as he maneuvers her with ease, the motion rough like it’s a chore, “—that you’re not my type. Not everybody wants to fuck you, your highness.” 

Seren blinks, pupils poring over the priorly unseen sight of the opposite end of the room. A slit of a window, brushing the edge of the wall that merges into the ceiling. A bookshelf of literature and knickknacks. A dresser, a queen-sized mattress on the floor. The pirate still looks absolutely miffed when he walks toward the table with the lantern, bare shoulders squared and the muscles in his back rippling. He sets the light out, kicks off his boots, and falls into the bed unceremoniously. 

It’s a victory. 

And for a moment, Seren thinks he’s just going to wordlessly roll over to avoid her prying gaze. He doesn’t do that. They bask in the crash of the waves outside, the darkness, and their quiet breaths. He’s got this knack — Seren’s learned. This skill of morphing from sarcastic and teasing to broodingly serious, and it’s mercurial, sort of. She wonders if this brooding side’s what’s brought him to lead an entire ship. 

“Be quiet now,” the pirate drawls from the sheets, in that broodingly serious cadence, “If I hear another word, I’ll personally carry you out onto the deck, and you can sleep in the chair out there.” 

The man rolls over to face the wall. Seren doesn’t say another word for the rest of the night.

[komoboko]

Hi! Not a request but just curious. What kind of pets do you think the kananoko squad would have in a modern au?

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐤𝐨 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐰𝐧

ft: tanjiro kamado, zenitsu agatsuma, inosuke hashibira, kanao tsuyuri, genya shinazugawa

These are 1am rambles brah

TANJIRO would like to raise a dog, standard but oddly fitting for him. I think he would have multiple to be honest, he enjoys breeds that are more active so I would see him with a golden retriever or a Labrador. His pets really like you to!! Almost like he silently taught them to be just like him.

He definitely has dogs that get big but still thinks they are lap dogs 100%. Whenever you come over to his house and sit anywhere it’s a 50% chance a dog will come lay near you, next to you, or usually on top of you. His dogs are kinda spoiled to, he’ll you he scolds them but you caught him giving them treats when he was suppose to one time.

ZENITSU wants something small, not to big and easy to manage. Personally I think he own a bunch of guinea pigs. Very random choice but just hear me out. They remind me of his sparrow, he likes to hold them when he’s around the house. You may see him walking in a thick turtleneck during the summer, but that’s just because his guinea pig is resting in the next area.

They are a little stubborn though, even zenitsu doesn’t know why. They can get mad and almost bit you before, but that’s normally if they haven’t eaten. You don’t what zenitsu feeds them but he definitely has those really thick guinea pigs just for no reason at all. Well there is a reason as you have to invite his guinea pig to the table to eat with you all during dinner. Also obanai is banned from coming over is kaburamaru is tagging along.

INOSUKE probably wants a really unconventional pet, like I bet he tried to convince you to let him get a boar before. In the end he sticks with a dog like tanjiro. Just the breeds are different I bet he wants have to have a doberman or a German Shepard. He wants to train those dogs for war I tell you.

You refused to enter his house for a bit until his dogs get to know you, you preferred keeping in your feet and not getting tackled by his dogs. He likes to play fight with them always playing fetch with them outside. Although besides this you to went a farm that was mixed with a shelter where they have this really small boar. Every time you go there inosuke always spends time without. He named the lil dude megatron.

KANAO I feel like would have a bird of some sorts. A really well trained one as well. Not like a usual house pet but those really expensive exotic birds. She’s trained it and had help from professionals to train it now, it’s at this point where you can almost have full fledged conversation with it. It knows both of your names, the food it likes everything.

Sometimes the bird is unusually smart.. like the time you brought snacks that you and the bird can both eat but kanao never wants you to. When she can back you had everything hidden and the perfect fool proof lie created. Until the bird “coincidentally” said your name and the beaks brand right after. You were the one getting in trouble and her bird face no repercussions.

GENYA is pretty straightforward he just wants a cat. He likes how they’re more chill and calm and sometimes just hang by themselves or with him. also because the cat owning trait was subconsciously influenced by gyomei’s love for cats. It just grew on him eventually. I think I can see him with one of those black and white bicolor cats but I doubt he would care about the breed.

You tend to compare Genya to his cat a lot because of how similar they look in the face. For some reason Genya’s cat just looks mad, all the time. He could be giving it treats and it would just have the more monotone expression on its face. The cat doesn’t mind you though, Genya could be calling it thinking it’s asleep. Only to find it trailing after you while you go to sit on his couch.

[bat-writer]

Bruce Wayne and daughter! reader having a tea party with her dolls and stuff animals

A/N: AAHHH ; reader is set to be 20 here, I think this came out more like a drabble/blurb

 ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿  ‿‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

"Awh, dad, Alfred, look at this one I found" you call over the two men as you were looking through an old picture album. Stopping at a picture of you and Bruce having a tea party when you were younger

"Ah yes I remember this. Master Bruce had bought you a tea set and a new dress and you had invited him to your princess tea party" Alfred explained as he was the one who catered the party with cookies and small cakes

15 years ago...

"daddy I have to fix your make up!" a little girl holds her make up toy to her fathers face that is lightly dusted with blush.

"Okay, okay sweetheart" and Bruce of course was wrapped around your tiny finger. The tall rather intimidating billionaire businessman now has pink lipstick, blue eyeshadow and blushed cheeks to attended a tea party with stuffed animals. He was seated at the table set he bought you, on a chair much to small for him. If anything a good percentage of his weight was on his feet so he wouldn't beak the chair.

You came around the table pouring 'tea' to your guests. He watched as you came to him with a big smile on your chubby cheeks.

"tea daddy?" you asked

"why of course my princess" he said holding out his small tea cup "thank you" he took a sip of the tea and made a face as though it was the most delicious drink he's ever had. Even though it was just some fruit punch. Then took your toy plastic knife and cut the cake Alfred had made you and gracefully served him a slice and yourself a slice you also gave him a cookie. This had to be the most adorable thing you've done this month and honestly it's made his day a lot better.

To come home from a long stressful day at his office to see you turning around in your little princess dress. Sting your most grand tea party with him being your special guest of the night. While some parents may not have time for this or think that it's silly he from one will do this until your all grown up if you had asked him to.

You had been asked him to make a toast in honor of the tea party. Clearing his throat he raises his cup and says

" ladies and gentlemen thank you so much for inviting me to your tea party In honor of our beautiful hostess i'd like to say thank you for throwing such a fabulous party with such delicious food and drinks" he tapped his cup with yours. That’s what Alfred had snapped the picture to save into the album for memories. Safe to say when he had left the room for a moment he came back to find you rubbing at your sleepy eyes. Meaning it was just about time to get you in bed.

“Awh you even let me do your make up that day” you said smiling to your father

“Mhm, and i did for the next couple of years as well” he smiled back “and sometimes you still do” he added

���You have really good skin to try new make up looks on” you answer

“ Should I fit your make up bag miss Y/N?” Alfred added in

“Not tonight Alfred, maybe tomorrow” you chuckle.

Even though the picture was over 15 years ago, your father would look at you and still see the same little girl, wanting a tea party. You can see it in your smile, and the way that your eyes scrunch when you laugh. All he can see is his little princess eagerly waiting to do daddy‘s make up to have a tea party together. 

-Kitty 🐈‍⬛

[asston69]

Mystery Girl

In this au thomas is a teenager and this is where they had neighbors near them.

------

Warnings: Reader is a woman, cursing, no smut but there will be kissing, blood, a bit of violence

------

Plot: when Luda Mae thinks her little boy thomas is just sweet and innocent. until she starts to find that her little boy was bringing around a mystery girl.

-------

Squeak

Squeak

That's all you could hear from Luda Mae from that rocking chair in the morning. She stares at the rising sun across from the corn fields. It was already so hot outside. The boys were all ready up and ready. They were doing there chores for the day.

Luda then gets up to make breakfast, with the suspicious meat. There was a window by the kitchen. She sees thomas feeding the pigs, she smiles softly. To see her boy growing up. She continues to prepare food.

Drayton was feeding the chickens, one of the chicken poke at him with there beak. "Damn chicken. I can't wait to have chicken with my meal next time" he says the chicken runs away. He smiles proudly.

Meanwhile with thomas, he wasn't following his mama's rules.. he was instead meeting up with the neighborhood girl. He thought she was the most beautifulest thing ever. He didn't go to school since his mother didn't believe in education but he always saw her walking home from school. He finished with feeding and cleaning the pigs. He quickly runs off to the nearby forest. It was more close to her close.

He then starts to hear footsteps from her house. He starts to see her more closer. "Hey tommy!" You say. You were wearing (whatever you want) that matched your pretty (eye color) eyes, and also it matched your pretty (hair color). To be honest, he thought you were beautiful anyway. You knew that he could talk. He had on a mask. It was made from leather, or atleast you thought it was. "You know tommy, I wanna tell you something" you say.

He nods. "I Auctually really like you" you say smiling softly. He was so surprised. You? You like him? He thinks your joking. He knew how to sign some words. "Really?" He signs.

Luckily knew how to read since your grandma is deaf and she taught you how to read sign. "Yes really" you say with that smile . He was so nervous now. He didn't expect this at all. All that was going through his head was that how could a beautiful girl like you like him? He was just interested, confused and in love all at once. But what made him shocked was that you said "can you take off your mask?" You have seen his face but you didn't freak out and you hasn't seen his face every since you guys were 8 now you guys are 16.

He slowly takes off his mask. He was expecting you to now run away but you didnt. You were staring at his lips. "May i?" You ask. He immediately nods. You then softly kiss him on the lips.

It was immediately ruined by his brother. "Thomas!" You two look over. You immediately stopped kissing him. You stood silently. Drayton steps closer to thomas. "You got a girlfriend, little brother?" Thomas shakes his head no. "I- I'm sorry.." You stutter. "I'll go now.." You say stepping back. "No, no." Drayton says, gripping onto your wrists. "Get the hell off me!" You say slapping his hand with your free hand. Thomas then pushes drayton off her. "Come on, little brother, you want to do that to me? Your family?" He says. Thomas doesn't take into his bullshit. He then punches the drayton in the face. Not because of what he did to (name) but because of other reasons in the past. Thomas looks back to see her (name running back to her house. He sighs softly.

--

"THOMAS HEWITT. WHAT WERE YOU THINKING." Luda Mae yells. Thomas puts his head down, staring at his lap. He was disappointed in himself. "YOU PUNCHED YOUR BROTHER AND NOW YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?" She yells. He really didn't have a girlfriend. He just kissed someone but that's all. "What happened to my poor innocent baby?" She says getting on her knees and caressing her soon face she cries. "The devil has gotten to you!" She yells. She stood up and scolded him. He didn't get dinner that night.

--

Hopefully you enjoyed this😛😛😛

[marlynnofmany]

Rainy Day Eggs

The last delivery our ship made was to a dry planet with too much wind. I’d say it was nice to be somewhere with moisture in the air again, but this was a lot of rain. And while I can appreciate the scent of petrichor and the sound of raindrops on the roof as much as the next Earthling, our current setup was a smidge inconvenient.

Paint asked, “Are you sure we don’t want to use the cargo bay instead?” She peeked past my elbow through the personnel door. “I feel like a wet floor there is less of a slipping hazard.”

“Maybe, but the awning doesn’t fit,” I told her, pointing up at the portable thing that came with this spaceport’s landing pad. It was made for single-person entrances, a hovering pink rectangle tethered to the ground with some kind of localized tractor beam. It stuck to the ship nicely, and hadn’t let so much as a drop sneak past to drip down my shirt, but it wouldn’t have fit over the cargo bay entrance.

“I thought we were going to use one of the bigger landing pads,” Paint said, surprise on her lizardy face as she looked out at the spaceport. “I know our ship is on the small side, but this spot looks tiny!”

“It is,” I said. “That douchnozzle over there sniped our spot.” I pointed at the sporty red single-person cruiser that was currently hogging a courier space. I’d heard Wio swear from the cockpit when she had to adjust our approach because the jerk zipped in front of us. I’d seen the nice big awning crumple down to fit his jerkmobile. After we’d landed in a spot almost too small for us, I’d seen him stroll away with fancy clothes and a force field umbrella, and he hadn’t come back yet.

He was a human, too. Not that I was bitter about any of that.

Paint huffed. “How rude! Well at least we have the comfort of knowing that the kind of person to do that is likely to make their own life harder every day.”

“You’re right on that count,” I agreed. “I can just imagine how much his food gets spit in when he eats at restaurants.”

This concept was a new one as far as Paint was concerned, and we spent the next few minutes before our client arrived talking about unsanitary food sabotage. (She wasn’t a fan. Can’t say I blame her.)

The birdlike cargo of the day was making quiet cooing noises from its cage as the client approached: a slender Frillian who’d come prepared with a bubble-shielded hover cart. I greeted him and handled the electronic payment while Paint gave the cargo one last look over. The coos turned to anxious warbles.

I wanted to call them chickens, and I’m still not convinced that I’m far off, but while their speckled feathers reminded me of the Aracaunas I’d had as a kid, these guys had scaly jaws instead of beaks. Feathery little velociraptors, all puffed up into anxious feather-orbs and looking ready to bite.

I was grateful for both the cage and the awning.

“Here you go,” I said, passing over the cage with extreme care. It barely fit through the door. Luckily the dino-chickens were light, even when they flapped and hissed. The client got them onto the cart with practiced ease. I tried not to show how relieved I was. That cage going sideways to smash open on the rainy ground would have been disastrous.

“Oh wait!” Paint said from behind me. “What about the eggs?”

“Right, I forgot about those,” I said, turning to grab the bowl she held out, which I’d set in the hallway next to the cage. Three speckled eggs rolled merrily as I held it out to the client. “Do you want these? They laid them on the way here, though they don’t seem interested in caring for them.”

He was busy strapping the cage down. “No thanks! They’re not fertilized. Just toss ‘em in your bio-recycler or whatever. Have a great day!” A fresh wave of rain pounded down between us.

“All right, thank you!” I waved goodbye and stepped back inside the ship, closing the hatch. With the rain shut out, the silence felt loud.

“I’ll mop up the water,” Paint volunteered. She pointed at where a spray of raindrops had managed to blow in on the wind. “Watch your step.”

“Thanks.” I held the bowl of rolling eggs in one hand, and the payment tablet in the other. I stepped carefully.

“And make sure you sanitize that bowl!”

“Oh, I will,” I said. “But before I just throw these away, I think it’s time for a rousing game of ‘who thinks these are food?’”

Paint regarded me with a mix of skepticism and disgust. “Really?”

I grinned at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll have Eggskin scan them first.”

“You do that!”

Still grinning, I put away the tablet and did that. Eggskin was in the medical bay, which was next to the kitchen, which was convenient, because Eggskin was in charge of both. They were the most knowledgeable cook/medic I’d ever met.

They didn’t make any fun expressions when I handed over the bowl, not so much as lifting a scaly browridge. They just set to scanning and analyzing like the professional lizardy alien they were.

(I still haven’t told them that the color of their scales reminds me of boogers, and I don’t ever plan to.)

The machine dinged. Eggskin tapped a few buttons, cross-referencing something on the intelligent species database.

“You can’t eat these,” they declared.

“What? Why not?” I was honestly shocked. Humanity’s omnivorous nature had made me used to being the one who could eat everybody’s food.

“There is a significant level of a toxin that would cause vomiting and worse,” Eggskin informed me. “Looks like your people call it tremetol.”

That made a memory ding. “Wait, like the kind from white snakeroot? The kind cows eat, and gives people milk sickness?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Eggskin said drily. “In my personal opinion, all milk is likely to cause sickness, but you’re welcome to your mammal tendencies. Just don’t eat these.”

“Aw, man,” I said. “Is it poisonous to everybody?”

“Let me check.” Eggskin brought up another species. “Looks like Mesmers aren’t affected.”

A voice from the doorway asked, “By what?” and I realized the quiet clicking noises had been Zhee’s feet. His big bug eyes peered in with some very nosy curiosity for someone without a nose.

I said, “By a toxin in the eggs that our animal cargo laid.”

Zhee tilted his head. “Good to know that something I don’t plan to touch will not harm me.”

Eggskin said, “The conversation was about eating them.”

“Ew.” He tilted his head at a more extreme angle and raised his pincher arms as if in defense. “Why?”

I sighed. “Apparently they’re poisonous to some of us.”

“Oh no,” Zhee deadpanned. “What a loss.”

Eggskin asked, “Want me to dispose of them?”

“I guess so,” I said. “Looks like all they’re good for is egging houses. Or spaceships.” I paused to think. “I wonder if they’d do the same kind of damage to the exterior that they do to car paint. It’d get washed away by the rain today anyway.”

“Spaceships like a certain red piece of excrement?” Zhee angled his long body sideways to let someone pass. “The captain would likely deem that unwise.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but Captain Sunlight beat me to it.

“Unwise is one word for it,” she said as she stepped into view and paused instead of passing. Her scaly yellow face wore a scowl. “But that’s the same egghole who nearly sideswiped Kamm’s ship last week; I just checked. Now, we’re about to take off, but if the door happens to open and close before we do, I will be conveniently looking the other way.” She made eye contact, then strolled off toward the cockpit.

Zhee and Eggskin looked at me. I looked at them. Then I grabbed the bowl of eggs and legged it toward the hatch.

As the crewmember with the best throwing arm, and the same species as the egghole in question, it was only fitting that I deliver the karma.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[kenzirr]

part 2 to the spencer imagine

@levi-of-starz

The BAU office was bustling as usual, agents hurrying about with case files and paperwork. Spencer Reid sat at his desk, engrossed in a book, when he suddenly looked up, a thought clearly lighting up his face.

"Did you know that the world's smallest bird, the bee hummingbird, weighs less than a penny?" Spencer announced to the room. "It's native to Cuba and measures just 2.25 inches from beak to tail."

Morgan, who was passing by, stopped and raised an eyebrow. "That's pretty cool, Reid. What got you thinking about hummingbirds?"

Spencer smiled. "It’s one of the facts Y/N shared with me the other night. We've been trading trivia back and forth, and it got me thinking. I want you all to meet her."

Garcia's eyes lit up as she walked over. "Oh, that sounds fantastic! When do we get to meet her?"

Spencer thought for a moment. "How about we arrange a dinner? I could invite Y/N, and we can all get together. I think she’d love to meet all of you."

JJ nodded enthusiastically. "I think that's a great idea. A nice team dinner would be perfect."

Hotch looked up from his desk, considering. "Sounds like a plan. I'll bring Jack along since I can't leave him alone."

Spencer smiled, feeling a wave of excitement and nervousness. "Great. I'll talk to Y/N and set everything up."

---

A few days later, the team gathered at Rossi's mansion, which he had graciously offered for the dinner. The dining room was elegantly set with a long mahogany table covered in a pristine white tablecloth. Crystal wine glasses sparkled under the chandelier's soft light, and the aroma of Italian cuisine filled the air as Rossi finished preparing the meal.

The centerpiece was an arrangement of fresh flowers, and each place setting had a small, handwritten name card. Spencer had even placed a few fun facts under each plate as conversation starters.

Y/N arrived a little after Spencer, looking both excited and a bit nervous. Spencer introduced her to everyone, and the team welcomed her warmly.

"Y/N, this is Derek Morgan," Spencer started, gesturing to Morgan.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Morgan said with a grin. "Spencer’s told us a lot about you."

"And this is Penelope Garcia," Spencer continued.

Garcia gave Y/N a big hug. "So nice to finally meet you, lovely! You look even more wonderful than Spencer described."

Spencer then introduced JJ, Rossi, and finally Hotch and his son Jack. Jack, clutching a small toy car, smiled shyly at Y/N.

"Hi, Jack," Y/N said, crouching down to his level. "What’s your toy’s name?"

Jack beamed. "This is Lightning McQueen. He’s really fast."

"Nice to meet you, Lightning," Y/N said, shaking the toy car's "hand."

They all sat down at the table, and Rossi brought out the first course: bruschetta topped with fresh tomatoes, basil, and a drizzle of balsamic glaze.

"Y/N, I hope you like Italian food," Rossi said, smiling. "I made some of my favorite dishes tonight."

Y/N took a bite of the bruschetta and her eyes lit up. "This is amazing, Rossi. Thank you so much for having me."

As they ate, the conversation flowed easily. Spencer couldn't resist sharing another fact. "Did you know that tomatoes were once thought to be poisonous? In the 18th century, people called them 'poison apples' because they believed the aristocracy got sick and died after eating them, but it was actually the lead in their pewter plates reacting with the tomato acid."

JJ laughed. "That's fascinating, Spencer. I never knew that."

Y/N joined in, sharing one of her own facts. "Did you know that butterflies taste with their feet? They have taste sensors on their legs and feet to help them find food."

Garcia's eyes widened. "That's amazing! I love butterflies, and I had no idea."

The main course was served: homemade lasagna, rich with layers of cheese, meat, and sauce. As they dug in, Hotch shared a story about a recent camping trip with Jack, and Jack excitedly talked about the wildlife they saw.

"Y/N," Garcia said, "how did you and Spencer meet?"

Y/N smiled, glancing at Spencer. "We met at a bookstore, actually. We were both reaching for the same book – a biography of Alan Turing."

Morgan chuckled. "Of course you were. That sounds like a perfect Reid story."

As they moved on to dessert – a decadent tiramisu – Rossi raised his glass. "To a wonderful evening."

Everyone clinked their glasses, and Spencer felt a warmth spread through him. The night had gone perfectly, and he couldn't have been happier.

After dinner, as Spencer walked Y/N to her car, she turned to him with a smile. "Your team is wonderful, Spencer. I had a great time tonight."

"Me too," Spencer replied, his heart racing. "Thank you for coming. It meant a lot to me."

Y/N leaned in, and Spencer met her halfway, their lips touching in a kiss that was soft and sweet. As the kiss deepened, Spencer felt a surge of warmth and happiness, losing himself in the moment.

Unbeknownst to them, the team had gathered near the window, watching the scene unfold. Garcia was the first to giggle, followed by a series of playful whispers and chuckles from the rest of the group.

Morgan couldn't resist. He opened the door slightly and called out, "Get a room, you two!"

Spencer and Y/N broke apart, both blushing furiously as they turned to see the team grinning at them from the doorway.

Garcia added, "We just wanted to make sure you didn't forget to say goodnight!"

Spencer, still flustered, managed a sheepish smile. "Thanks, guys."

Y/N squeezed his hand, looking equally embarrassed but happy. "Goodnight, everyone. Thanks for a wonderful evening."

As she drove away, Spencer turned back to his team, who were still chuckling and exchanging knowing looks.

Hotch clapped Spencer on the shoulder. "I think she’s a keeper, Reid."

Spencer nodded, his heart full. "Yeah, I think so too."

[wolfish-trickster]

Imagine part 3

@myendlesslyunexistinglove

(Btw should i rename this series?)

Since you went missing Rafayel has turned nearly every stone on the island upside down. Even though his friends already told him it's time to leave he still searched the whole island once more. You couldn't just sublimate, could you? The nearest land is too far for you to just swim over and no sailor had a missing boat. Why would you even leave anyways? He hadn't said anything. Done anything.

"I hoped it wouldn't come to this," he sighed as he stripped and walked into the sea, his purple head getting lost under the waves.

~~~

You closed the book Sylus has given you. It was a nice story. Reminded you a lot about your current situation.

You twirled the feather around your fingers, it must've belonged to Mephisto. When Sylus wasn't around and twins were busy as well he was the one keeping you company.

As if on cue you heard him land outside your window. You let him in. He hopped into your lap, opened his beak and let couple of dried berries fall into your lap. He usually brought you trinkets he found in the streets, food was new. You just shrugged and ate them. Finally some fruit among all the fancy food Sylus has been giving you.

"If you wanted something sweet," Sylus's voice startled you, "you could've just said."

"What kind of a hostage would I be if I dictated what I wanted to eat," you let Mephisto fly towards his master. "I was just happy you at least gave me something."

Mephisto landed on Sylus's shoulder. "Have I given you a reason to fear me so?"

You shook your head. He smiled. "Good. Excuse me," he turned his head and whispered something to his crow. After he was done, Mephisto flew out the window.

"Let's take a walk," Sylus offered you his arm. He always made you feel like a princess.

He took you down the hill from his mansion, through the almost dead city into a meadow. Just like everything here the meadow also looked dead.

"Why did you bring me here?" you asked when he finally stopped.

"The first time you came here you were so dissappointed by the flora of my home. I admit, I would also welcome some splashes of colour in the form of flowers, but it's out of my control. I wanted to show you something else."

He gestured for you to sit and be quiet. Soon enough a doe with its fawn carefully came from the nearby forrest. None of them looked dead like the people in the city, but they didn't look alive either. Both were semi-seethrough with a blue hue. The fawn spotted a blue seethrough butterfly and started chasing it.

You subconsciously let out a lihht chuckle, startling the running fawn. You quickly slapped both of your hands over your mouth but it was already too late. However the deer pair didn't ran away like it normally would. The fawn sniffed around until it found both of you sitting in the grass. After its cold nose bumped into your knee he studied your face a little. Then it layed dawn next to your folded legs and rested its head in your lap. Its mother hesitated, when Sylus stood up and walked a little further away from you the doe walked up to you and sniffed your face.

Now you definitely felt like a princess. "Are all the animals around this friendly?" you asked Sylus as you petted both of their heads.

He shook his head. "They usually just run away from me. But you," he watched as some butterflies circled your hand and sat in your hair creating a crown, "I knew you'd be the one."

"Did you say something?" you asked but didn't pay attention to his answer. Your finger found something on the little fawn's head. A dent. Or a hole. You inspected it a little, the blue fur around it was covered by something dark. Looking over at the doe she had a similar wound, but on her belly rather than her head.

"Sylus, are they-?" you didn't need to finish. He already knew your question. And you already knew the answer. "Why?"

"They don't suffer here," he walked up to you scaring all animals away, making them run back to the forrest. "I don't bring them, they come on their own. Some decide to stay, some don't. But they like you. I'm glad they do."

You hummed and looked away. You could still see the doe and the fawn in the distance. They indeed looked content here.

Before the sorry excuse of a sun could rise and make Sylus go to sleep again you wanted to take a walk in the forrest. Whichever path you took the animals kept eyeing you like curious children. The braver ones approached you, others were wary of your companion and kept their distance.

Suddenly Sylus took you by the hand and lead you down a path, between some trees and bushes, until both of you came to the only alive looking tree. A pomegranate tree.

"Since you wanted some more fruit," he reached up and plucked the ripest looking apple.

You looked at him offering the fruit to you. It was a tempting offer, it's been so long since you've had something sweet and juicy. Then again, this was eerily similar to the myth he made you read. If you ate it, would you be tied to this place forever?

He saw your hesitation. "It's not poisonious," he took the apple in both hands and tore it into two. Once again he offered it to you. "Take it, you don't have to eat it right away."

You took it from him and watched him pick up the juicy red seed to his lips. The both of you went back to the mansion, Sylus ate all of his seeds and you subconsciusly held onto his hand while hypnotizing your half of the apple. If it wasn't for Rafayel you would've eaten it right away. Sylus wasn't as funny or as artistic as him, but he was wise, protective, and wasn't affraid of something as cuddly as a cat.

There were pros and cons to both men. But only one of them wanted you, as far as you knew. Is this the Stockholm syndrome talking?

A pair of metalic wings ruffled above your heads. Mephisto panded on Sylus's shoulder and whispered something in his ear. Sylus' relaxed and almost happy expression turned into a stone cold one you knew very well. You saw it whenever the twins pranked him.

"Excuse me my dear," he lifted your connected hands to his lips and pressed a small kiss to the back of your hand, "I have a fish to hunt."

Part 1 part 2

[kedreeva]

on the topic of peafowl play, would/do peafowl enjoy those pet puzzle toys? would they have the patience or interest to complete 1 outside of food motivation? i don't know why but i always imagine peafowl as the brilliant but lazy types and i wonder if that headcanon of mine has any plausibility lol

I gave my peafowl one of those chicken treat puzzles (this one) which they are supposed to peck/scratch at and roll around, which drops scratch grain slowly on the ground and gives them something to do until it is empty. It's basically two yellow bowls bungee-corded together by a single cord on the inside, anchored at that little black nub. You fill one half, and then "seal" it as a ball- but it's not clipped together or anything, just bungee tension holds it together.

I set it down for Aris for the first time, and rolled it so she could see it had scratch in it that would fall out. She pecked it once, examined it for roughly 10 seconds, and then grabbed it by the little black nub, and shook the hell out of it, bursting it open and flinging scratch all over the pen. She dropped it and everyone went about their business eating the scratch.

I taught Eris how to press buttons to "speak" to me; she had a few treat buttons, a food button, a water button, and some Word word buttons like "want" and "Eris" and "yes" and "no." She used them to argue with me and make fun of me for forgetting to put water in her wet food one day.

I gave Bug toilet paper rolls with holes cut in them, stuffed with paper towels and superworms. She learned to pull the paper towel out almost immediately. She gets a bowl of fresh foods when she goes into her pen in the mornings, and it started with me walking in and coaxing or carrying her in. Now she goes and waits on the perch where I put the bowl. I give anything leftover she didn't eat to the barn crew, so when I go to collect her in the evening, Polaris and Opal are usually waiting on the table where I put the bowl.

I bring Artemis indoors to do paintings with her, and she knows the order is indoors->bath->dry off->painting+treats, so if I bring her in, and she gets a bath, and I wait too long in the drying off, she will start scolding me until we start painting.

If I let the birds out of their pens, they get free range time while I'm outside. When I call "hup hup!" loudly and repeatedly, they all start walking back to the coops. Many of them know up commands. Artemis and Bug have both learned to put their trains up if I ask (and that's a no-treat trick, they just do it). Beep knew "ask nicely" when she wanted something (which is what led to me training Eris with the buttons), so she would scrape her beak on me if she wanted something. Beep also played with a lot of different toys.

I guess the point is that they are pretty smart birds, given a chance and good circumstances. They can be incredibly stupid, too, but the majority of them are pretty smart most of the time. But they don't have a lot of patience for things that are not either immediately rewarding or that they choose to focus on. Beep once spent an hour trying to get the button off my jeans, but if you offer Bug a mouse and move it away before she can get it, she'll usually just stop caring. If you give a treat to one bird, they might snub it, but they'll kill a man for it if someone else gets it and acts like it's good.

So COULD they become interested in a pet puzzle and possibly solve one? Maybe? It really just depends on what's in it for them, and/or how interested someone else is, and/or if they think it's their idea. They don't really have a lot of grabbing strength in their beaks, so that factors in, too. They do NOT like to peck hard things.

They DO like to destroy stuff though. If you could make an edible tissue box, they would absolutely lose their shit about it. Every peafowl I've ever owned LOVES tearing tissues out of a tissue box and ripping tissues to shreds to try to eat. Don't know what that's about. Leftover raptor instincts to disembowel things, I guess.

[bedoballoons]

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

A/n: I honestly have no idea where this thought came from, but basically the genshin men and you find a group of baby ducks. Let the cuteness overload begin!

Requests/asks open!

{༻~Playing with baby ducks~༺}

(Includes: Diluc, Albedo, Itto, Kaveh, Heizou, and Wanderer!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Diluc:

Diluc would kneel down by the edge of the water, his hands cupped together as he reached into the cool blue lake, retrieving a small, adorable yellow ball of fluff that would quack happily up at him. "Well...hello there little one." He'd say to the animal, greeting it with a small smile, but because it would have no idea what he was saying, it'd quirk its head to the side curiously before pecking his nose with its beak as if it were giving him a kiss to say hello.

You'd watch the whole scene unfold and try not to die from cuteness overload as he carefully returned the baby duckling to the water, the rest of its family swimming along with it.

𑁍༄Albedo:

Albedo would notice the group of baby ducklings waddling clumsily around the waters edge, their mother swimming gracefully around as her little ones played in the sunshine and instantly get inspired to draw. He'd take a seat on a nearby log and gesture for you to sit by him while he sketched, their adorable little quacks making the perfect background noise, as the two of you watched them.

Suddenly one of the ducklings would get very brave, making its way towards you both until it was barely a foot away and then it would look up at you two like it was unsure what to do next. "Awe aren't you a brave little duckling." Albedo would say, leaning down to gently pet the baby animals head with his finger, he'd chuckle at it's cute actions as it waddled back to its family and you'd sit there in shock at how sweet that all was.

𑁍༄Itto:

Itto and you would get caught in the rain after a morning of beetle fights and while the two of you searched for a place to wait out the storm you'd notice a group of baby ducks trying to make their way from under a bridge to a nearby log, that you could only assume was their home. Every time one attempted to leave the safety of the bridge, they'd almost get knocked over by the large water droplets and just as you were about to suggest helping them you'd realize Itto had already left your side.

You'd watch in amazement as he carefully picked up a branch that had fallen off the nearby tree, holding it over the ducklings as each one waddled to their log home. He'd get entirely soaked in the process, his white hair flat and sticking to his skin, his clothes absolutely drenched like he'd just went swimming and yet...he'd have a huge smile. "Just call me the duckling hero!" He'd say and it would be like you'd fallen in love with him all over again.

𑁍༄Kaveh:

Kaveh would be looking for inspiration for his new blueprints with you by his side as moral support and after searching for awhile to no avail, the two of you would stop by the nearby lake for a quick brunch. Before you had even unpacked the food though, a swarm of baby ducklings would surround Kaveh, staring up at him as they quacked to get his attention. "Awwwe you're all so cute." He'd say, reaching down to gently pet them and chuckling sweetly as they pecked his fingers gently.

You'd sit there with your kamera and take pictures as the ducklings climbed on him, one even somehow making its way onto the top of his head.

𑁍༄Heizou:

Heizou would be sitting with you by a pond, pink cherry blossoms fluttering around you, as the two of you talked about his most recent mystery and attempted to solve it while eating desserts. You'd be interrupted mid sentence though as he started laughing hysterically, wiggling around as if someone had begun to tickle him. "Heizou? You all right?" You'd ask with a eyebrow raised and he's attempt to answer, but get caught off by yet another burst of laughter.

Just as you were starting to get freaked out he'd reach into the open part of his shirt and carefully retrieve the culprit of his abrupt laughter, a baby duckling that had crawled into his clothes when he wasn't paying attention. "Aha, so you're the one causing trouble, should I arrest you now...or tell your mother and let her think of your punishment?" He'd say jokingly, the baby duck however would simply quack in response before jumping out of his hands and waddling quickly back to the pond.

𑁍༄Wanderer:

Wanderer would be walking along beside you, the two of you out to enjoy nature...or rather you out to enjoy nature and him being dragged along with you, when suddenly you both would start hearing little quacks trailing behind you. You'd look to see what was going on before bursting into laughter at the sight...five baby ducks made a neat little line behind Wanderer, follow him like he was their mother.

"Looks like you've adopted five little ones!" You'd exclaim and he'd turn around to see what you'd meant, only to be met with five pairs of little eyes staring right back at him. You'd giggle as he attempted to shoo them away, only for them to reform into a line behind him everytime he turned around. "I'm not your mother, go away!" He'd try, but nothing would work, they'd continue to follow him till the two of you found their actual mother and returned them to her.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day!*⁠.⁠✧

[houseofhugo]

ONE AFTER ANOTHER: THE BONUS CHAPTER

[ SYNOPSIS ] fast forward, your mom is at the gathering; it was only for the ladies in their batch which means only one thing: both of you are at it again.

[ PAIRING ] lee sangyeon x f!reader

[ CONTENTS AND WARNINGS ] 18+ read (smut), mdni (minors, do not interact), stepcest, stepfather!sangyeon, age gap (both are legal), pet names, shower sex, p in v sex, protected sex (reader is on a pill), mirror sex, edging (reader gives), creampie, wet sangyeon (another "yes, that's a warning")

[ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] who knows we'll get a bonus part? 😏

[ NAVIGATION ] PART ONE, PART TWO

The house was nature-quiet as you make your way down the stairs only in a huge towel wrapping you up from chest to knees with one arm secured at your bust. The kitchen was the first thing you would see from there. It was just like a mini-bar but without the liquor bottles. At the center of the marble-top kitchen island, there were two paper bags—one is large, one is small. You reached for the small one and ripped the paper tape-secured mouth open. You knew it was your shampoo that was inside since it's the only non-food product you asked your mom to buy before she left for their gathering today.

As you turn your whole body, you hear a door open somewhere around the corner. You didn't know which was it since the sound bounced across the place until your stepdad came walking in the frame of your sight holding a wrench in his gloved hands with hints of black grease smeared on his sweat-glossed arms. His white fit tank top, also stained with the grease, became fitter due to his sweat causing the fabric to cling onto his perspiring skin. Your eyes didn't even fail to notice his abs, pectorals, and nipples—to your surprise, they are out and erect—protruding to the white wet fabric, and the fact it's just all thin fabric makes the golden color of his skin make his top darker. There was nothing to see on his cargo pants... unfortunately.

"I thought mom drove the car." Your voice broke the silence in the room.

"Yeah, to the grocery."

"How did she get to their gathering, then?"

"Her friend came here. She gave her a ride."

You panned your eyes from his head down to his toe once again.

"So it's still not fixed? The car?"

"Yeah. I did it yesterday but it's still quite noisy when she drove it to the grocery this morning." The man inspected you from head to toe with blind reaction as if your look isn't the most obvious thing. He walked past you to go to the fridge which was at the other side of the kitchen island. He was met with the cold mist as he takes the cold pitch of water out. At the corner of his eye, he noticed that you're still looking at him like a surveillance camera. He thought of giving you a show, so instead of taking a glass from the counter, he just put the pitcher up to his nose level and tilted the beak at his open mouth. The water landed like a waterfall past his lips until it pools there, overflows, and makes its way down his chin, neck, and through the cleavage of his man tits which caused the fabric to stick more onto his skin like hell. He tilted his head back before taking a huge gulp on the cold water making sure the movement of his Adam's apple is put to show. He felt the mild negative temperature glide through his guts. He looks down at what he just did to himself before bringing his eyes up to you. Putting the pitcher down on the kitchen island, he leans over the island top with his triceps landing on the marble; he, then, inspects you from your messy tied hair to your bare feet on the wood-patterned floor.

"Taking a bath?" he casually questioned the obvious thing.

"Yeah." You swallowed your own spit. "I was... about to go upstairs."

Sangyeon straightened his posture before taking a few steps until your bodies are just an inch closer to each other. Your nose caught the reeking, bitter, and stinging scent of the mixed chemicals and such but he made it smell so perfect with his daddy face card.

"I'm done doing the car, by the way." He inspects you from your messy tied hair down to your bare feet on the varnished wooden floor. "I'm free doing you now, if you're wondering."

That was the most straightforward thing he have let out of his mouth; perhaps because getting his cock in you made him way more comfortable than he ideally should be.

You took a minute to admire his sexy mechanic look. It's impressive how he could pull this off without looking like a garbage. In fact, you couldn't even think about it because all you see is a god who is actually willing to grant all your fantasies.

"Shower?" you offered.

He took a sniff on both of his pits. "Mmh." He was displeased by his own smell but it then made him think of one thing and look at you with his lips tilted in satisfaction. "Reading the room well, pretty girl."

His low toned praise tickled your tummy and made your knees twitch.

You almost forgot about the wrench until it produced a clang on the marble top of the island as he put it there. "You can go ahead. I'll catch up. Let me just grab a condom from the store," he suggests.

"Uhm... I'm still taking the pill, actually."

You witness how his eyes thinned into a squint as his lips tilted into a smirk.

The shower stall in your personal bathroom has a built-in bathtub as the ground, so you have to hop in. The bathtub is surrounded by marbles as extensions to the rims directly connected to the walls and they are wide enough to sit on. The whole entire section is like a sauna rather than a normal bath by now because you can just turn the tub faucet warm, close the translucent glass door, rest your ass on the rim, and you have an instant relaxation zone to take out sweat; then here comes you two deciding to layer the heat with another railing session now in this limited space.

Both of you are standing naked on a thin layer of water in the tub that is slowly getting filled by the lukewarm water that is moderately rushing out of the open faucet. Your hands are rested at the rim where you are face to face with the shower valves fixed on the wall. Meanwhile, Sangyeon was standing right behind you with his knees bent and his hands pulling up the muscle under your belly to keep your ass up as he swayed his hips back and forth in a solid moderate pace which caused his massive cock with the prominent veins decorating his shaft to travel warm and raw through your walls in wet glides.

"Daddy's getting your pussy full of his cock again, baby girl. Come on, tell me you love it."

The translucent glass door was shut locked which caused the vapor to fill the stall in just a matter of seconds. The heat brought both of you to the peak of your perspiration which naturally glossed both of of your bodies as if you two were taking a bath in gallons of lube.

"I love your cock so much, daddy! Mmhhh! Please fuck me harder!" Your voice came out in whimpered waves due to repeatedly being nudged by the force of his hips.

The repeated brushing and pounding force between your folds were sent to you solid and strong that his hips are threatening to shove your face to the wall in front of you. You even almost hit your head on one of the valves, so you brought up one hand on the wall to fight his strength.

"Like this, sweetie? Is daddy doing great for my little munchkin?" His hips came clashing and snapping with your ass cheeks more often. It's like your tummy is getting blended from the insides just like how your brain feels like right now. Add his heavy testicles slapping up your clit through his pacing. Everything's starting to get magical.

You were about to attempt a word but one of his hits turned into combos on your spot and you're certain he just repositioned it somewhere inside you. Instead of letting out a simple yes, it just turned into a warm air that easily. Along with that, your legs trembled due to the electrifying force that ripples throughout your body caused by that one simple thrust. Turns out, your whole system is coming down to a wonderful mess.

"Hah, gosh, baby!" Sangyeon's hips stuttered as you sucked his whole manhood inside of you like a vacuum cleaner. Meanwhile, your hand that was rested on the wall came falling down and accidentally hit the loose shower valve in front of you causing the tilted shower head above your head to make it rain directly where his cock meets your cunt. Good thing you managed to keep your other hand on the rim so that you won't fall and hit your head on the marble.

"Ngh! Hah!" Your exclamation came out of your mouth like you were in labor and the baby inside of you was his cock but, of course, it's never the thing you want to push out;.

It's as if both of you had reached your climaxes because no one is moving at all. He was locked inside your cunt with your tensed walls, but that didn't last long as soon as the warmth relaxed your muscles which made your pussy loosen along. Both of you took the time to catch huge breaths wherein the warm mist that comes around confined in the locked stall invades both of your organs; though it brought great ease for the both of you, feeling a little bit more hot can't be filtered out by the hairs of your nostrils.

"Ready to go again, munchkin?"

You just nodded your yes with a hum for a solid confirmation.

"Want me to go slow?" he reassures.

"No."

As soon as Sangyeon picked up where he left, the strings of water that directly hit your ass made the skin slaps louder and crunchier. Though the water tickled his shaft whenever it gets exposed by pulling out, it didn't stop him to maintain composure and just fuck you with his consistent, solid, and rapid jabbing on your walls like the fucking sexual spectacle of a sexy man he is. Looking over your shoulder, you get a view of him with his hands flat on your lower back with his elbows facing outwards. His eyes were down there where his fat meat meets your throbbing heat; his big hot bun pecs are shredded by contraction which creates a temporary muscle indent at both parts of his man tits close to his underarms; a his strands had grown long making them hang over in locks as it sways along with his moves.

He actually looks hotter with longer hair. You can actually use it as a stable grip.

The skin-slapping that was immensely crisped by the falling waters has become music to your ears. You thought of turning it off since you accidentally turned it on but it just turns out to be a good accident. You then felt the surface of the water in the tub waving above your knees. The water from the faucet has filled the whole tub almost at the rim, so you lazily slapped your hand on the valve to turn it off.

"Come here," he grunts as he pulls you up from your 90-degree position making you up on your feet with your back facing him. His huge hands pulled you in where you came pressed hard onto his wet chest and six-pack only for your upper half to be pushed away so that he can get a good angle of his cock into you. The only things that kept you stable were his two hands that are wrapped around your wrists pulling your arms backwards. Looking from his view, he sees the back of a perfect girl getting her head all wet and straightened down under the falling waters from the shower. You appeared to look more delicate in his eyes from how your strands followed the shape of your head.

"Fuck, baby!" The bouncing of your ass in his sight accompanied by your back view started an orgasm build-up on his hips making him throw his head back.

"Daddy, I wanna cum."

"We can't cum in here, sweetie. We should get you out of here first."

The fast pull out of his cock out of you caused a growled yelp to escape your mouth. The sudden emptiness was such a mental and emotional pain causing you to let a solid whine that scratched your chest and throat, but Sangyeon was there to twist the shower valve off and unlock the translucent glass door before hooking an arm under your knees and under your upper back to carry you out of the shower in a bridal style. In just a matter of seconds, you could feel the warmth being replaced by the cold of the outside of the stall. Sangyeon runs a hand on your head to soothe you because he thought that sudden pull before putting you down on your weak feet in front of a vertically rectangular mirror fixed to the wall. Watching the reflection, he positions himself right behind you where he talks right at your ear. "Look in the mirror, sweetheart." He snuck a hand on one of your breasts to cup it with your nipple in between two of his fingers. "I'm sure you wanna see how daddy would use his whole body to make you feel good."

Those words were directed to your ear canals and it successfully made your little aching heart go back to greatness again. You shook your head up and down before taking a sniff.

Before your patience could even make you cry, Sangyeon interrupted it by sheathing his manhood all the way back into your cunt with just one push and it made you jump in happiness again. He bent his knees to get a good angle to push and pull his hips into you; you were just standing there watching him through the reflection working hard for your satisfaction. You can see how he is biting his lips as his eyes were darted at your ass; on the other hand, you were there subconsciously mirroring his facial expression as you harmonize with his deep moans with your high-pitched whines.

Aaaah, music.

Sangyeon's eyes came back at the mirror where he started talking to your reflections. "Fuck, munchkin! Look at that sexy body behind you."

You took the time to eye him in admiration through the mirror. He couldn't be anymore fuckable in this view. It's not just adjectival pornographic but you're like literally watching porn right now and he's the main attraction, and when he moved your ass a bit so you can have a view of his cock fucking your pussy at the reflection, there was like a camera that is taking a close-up shot right there. With your breasts still seen in the frame, he snuck his other hand on your other breast so that you now have both of him squishing and kneading your mounds as they were caged in his fingers. Your hands are on top of his as he was doing that.

"Fuck, Sangyeon!" It immediately registered to you what you just did and now, you have on hand pressed on your mouth as you kept groaning to his continuous thrusts.

You earned a mild laugh from the man that came from his chest. "Did you hear yourself, baby girl? Did you hear how beautiful my name came out of your mouth? You might wanna say it again for me."

You're already biting your lower lip behind your hand as you squeezed your eyes shut in both embarrassment and lust. That felt natural on your lips but it's still something you couldn't be used to say.

"Come on. Call me by my name, darling. Be casual to me like I'm your... what? Husband too? I'm letting myself be owned by this family now, anyway." He grabbed your leg that was facing the mirror by the thigh and carried it up to give you more view of how he is ramming his way into you. "So that means this cock is totally all yours now too. Can you believe that?"

The pressure inside your lungs due to the lack of oxygen had you enough to release all the breath you have been keeping behind that hand.

"Fuck," you whimpered.

"Fuck what?" he emphasized.

A few seconds have gone by and he didn't get any response. His sudden let go of your leg made you grab onto his forearms as he fisted his hands on the skin of your hips to solidify a couple of thrusts into you making sure it punches your walls good before abruptly stopping with his hips pressed on your ass cheeks. You are suddenly so full of cock.

"Come on. Speak up, munchkin. That's what daddy is all asking for from you," he encourages. "Let me tell you: this is a week-old load. I can reward you a fresh and overflowing creampie now if you start calling me like that. Just not in your mom's presence; we might get suspicions."

To you mom, 'dad' is the only thing pleasing and acceptable to her ears when you call Sangyeon.

Building your eagerness, you started to grind your hips against his manhood to stimulate yourself. It's like you just vaccuumed all the air in the bathroom into your nostrils before blowing it all out through your mouth with shaking whimpers from how you are hitting your own buttons yourself with a man hose twitching inside you.

"Oh, I see." He squeezed you tight in his arms before snapping his hips up to kiss and jab your cervix with his cock head.

"Shit!" You exclaimed.

"I thought you love the idea of me cumming inside you? You don't wanna get disappointed again, sweetheart." The man didn't hesitate to transform into a living jackhammer and bream your walls down with his unforgiving rapid pace. It's already making you scream with a hint of growls.

"Oh, Sangyeon! Yes! Fuuuck!"

The elder was so rewarded as he wears the smile of a winner. "Yes, munchkin! That's my name!" His thrusts eventually brought back the build up of your orgasm like a sunrise because his cock was in for the combos again on your g-spot. "GONNA. FUCK. YOU. LIKE. A. FUCKING. ANIMAL!"

"YEEESSS! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh my gosh!"

FLOP!

FLOP!

FLOP!

"Faster, Sangyeon! Faster!"

SNAP!

SNAP!

SNAP!

He bundled your arms and waist by wrapping his strong muscles around them causing your back to make direct contact with his abs and tits; the mixture of warm water and sweat across his skin made you stick to him. Your forearms are the only things that can move because his arms are secured at your biceps. The position made him bury deeper and closer to you which caused all of his thrusts to not fully withdraw his cock from your walls as if you are on a plug which technically, you are. Sangyeon is now grinding on you; the motion of his cock inside you starts to get tender and tender sending you zaps of chills throughout your arching back. It's taking you to the clouds that you couldn't help but grapple your hands on the frontal muscles of his thighs which are bent on both sides of yours; you can feel them flex every time he moves. He then laid his chin on your shoulder that faces the mirror so that you can still see his handsome face while he grinds your insides with his whole length buried balls deep.

"Shit!" You screeched at the top of your lungs. "I'm gonna cum!"

You've been waiting for this; your pussy in pain of patience mixed with the pleasing delicious drag of his manhood through your walls.

"Cum, sweetie. Tickle that cock well with your release and I'll shoot straight into your pussy in no time."

Your fleshy wet walls began to contract around him as if you're gonna close for good; one factor is, of course, how he dropped those words. You then squeezed your eyes shut and chewed on your lower lip when his hands covered your whole breasts in an instant; he could be your secret bra now.

"Fuck! Fuck! Sangyeon!" you let his name scracth your throat in screams. The tension ripples throughout your body as you use your full strength to push all your juices out. Sangyeon immediately emptied you by abruptly popping his cock out with a lewd squelch and directly positioned it under your folds so that your release could hit him first before it forms puddles on the floor. He just didn't expect you would turn into a human pressure washer in an instant.

"Lay on the floor." With your hurried command, you didn't think twice to push Sangyeon down by his shoulders which he didn't hesitate to do so. The cold floor met the contrasting warmth of his back; his legs are parted and his feet are on both sides of the mirror which makes the only reflection he has is his parted big thighs with his cock centered at the frame standing proud.

"Hooo! Hah!" Despite getting fed with the temptation of shooting his cum, he tried his best to keep his cock there and catch all the tingling sensation of your release soaking his cock into a glistening and dripping hot slab of meat. He gave your tits a couple of kneads to fuel you up before one of his hands leaves to give his base a tight squeeze to prevent him from doing it as he maintained his cock under the pressure of your gushing release. For him, this is a whole new level of edging he didn't know he would survive... at least for just a moment.

"Holy shit!" His exclamation was accompanied by a few twitches of his cock. He is so huge, so it really doesn't feel like twitches. It's like he's pushing your uterus somewhere from its original displacement. You tried to play along by constricting your walls. "Ngh! No! Fuck!" Firm words came out prematurely of his mouth as they scratched their way out of his throat but he wasn't doing anything to stop you. His fingers were just having their good diggings into your skin; however, with a single effortless lift of your hips, his cock was unsheathed from your cunt leaving the hard and luscious male genitalia glistening like a crystal.

You have put your stepdad in a great position because you would then straddle him on your feet facing the mirror so you could see how you would fuck yourself on his cock for the first time. As you hold his cock to point it up right above your heat, you brush his tip across your folds which drives him more to his suppressed peak. Hearing his low groans and oh's without getting to watch his face made the situation more intriguing, and by the time you pushed yourself down on his shaft with a painfully slow pace, you could hear him getting louder behind you as you felt his fingers dig on the flesh of your hips.

"HOOO! Yes—OH, FUCK!" He sounded gutteral because he is really that close; he's just preventing himself to bust since he's not fully in you yet, but by the time you are fully sat on him with his whole cock sheathed inside you, the uncontrolled throbbing of your walls around him made his manhood tremble inside of you; however, you were too focused in earning the familiar bulge on your usually flat tummy.

You then leaned back and laid your hands on the floor at the sides of his waist level before making waves out of your hips to grind yourself on his aching cock. It hurts so much on his end that it's getting his insides grounded by the unseen force. The combination of his masculine voice, and delicate and yearning whimpers came from his own thought of his stepdaughter enjoying sexually torturing him with just two words. You just wanna tease him more.

Actually, the bathroom was quite soundproof in and out that is why you've been hearing nothing but the waters from the shower and your pleasured moans harmonizing with his. Sangyeon was fortunate to be safe from the neighboring houses when he didn't get to think through what you have told him to do and just went with whatever he thought would please you.

"NGAAAHH! HAH! FUCK! BABY!" His hands are now causing your skin to turn red by his fingers digging more into you. You just keep on grinding your hips back and forth as you turn his loudness into music.

"O-HO, YESSSS! DADDY'S GONNA CUM FOR YOU, BABY GIRL! GONNA LET YOU HAVE MY CUM ALL FOR YOURSELF!"

As you grounded your hips down on his cock while watching yourself in the mirror, his whimpers burst into screams as he grows within the confinement of your walls until he strikes your insides non-stop with his white and hot creaminess into your tight heat in consistent chunky ropes.

"Baby—FUHUUUCK!!!"

SQUELCH!

SQUISH!

SLOSH!

Sangyeon can feel his orgasm beyond his body with the floor vibrating and rumbling under his skin and the air he breathes getting warmer and warmer as he squirts his creamy cum into you. Meanwhile, you tried to tease him by slowly bringing yourself up from his cock.

"No! No! Sweetie, don't!" His hands reacted faster than light as he pressed you back down by your thighs because he suddenly felt his cum trickling down his shaft; and he was still shooting his baby batter inside you which made the trickling faster. "Daddy's still—mmh... cumming." However, there is a chunk that managed to escape and slide down his balls. As soon as you scooped it from the bottom of his testicles with your index finger, his hips twitched to the swipe of your touch making you jiggle along. You didn't hesitate to bring the finger inside your mouth where you tasted the slight sweetness on your tongue.

"Mmh." Your eyebrows rose as if you didn't taste this yummy man a gallon before.

It didn't take long until you heard his heavy breathing indicating that he has finished inside, but you have your freaky little mind activated, so you thought of grinding your hips again as you watch yourself in the mirror.

"Oh, gosh—" His voice got caught up in his throat; he just let it all out through his hips by planting his feet on the bathroom floor to fuck his cum inside of you with his upward thrusts. Either squirming himself through the sensitivity or just staying there enduring it like a solid soldier, the same thing would still happen for him: he would still be overstimulated inside you; and you're still enjoying yourself, so the man had no choice but just play along despite having that immense tickle in his sex organ.

On the other hand, that didn't stop your unforgiving walls from hugging his cock as you attempted to glide your walls up and down his length which earned Sangyeon a more defined drag of your flesh on him... and the most sensitivity-triggering one.

"Sweetheart! Too much, too much!" Sangyeon squeezed his one eye shut as he kept his other one focused on his cock reappearing and disappearing between your ass cheeks. "Fuck! You're getting daddy so sensitive now, sweetie."

For one last time while keeping yourself seated on him, you carefully turned around with the right amount of constriction applied around his cock so that he can feel your walls twist around his length as you position yourself in a cowgirl position. It didn't fail you to get shocked when you saw how coated he is of sweat right now that it maintained his locks and made his skin slippery again.

"O-ho—hmmm—gosh!" He suppressed his endeavor between gritted teeth as he threw his head back and breathed through his nose in a trembling and unstable manner. It's turning him from a stiff, hot, muscle body into a dead meat; he couldn't even get a tight grip on your ass to stop the overstimulation you're giving him.

Laying your palms on the hard mounds of his pecs for support, you then gave your cervix a couple of hard and grounded jabs before you abruptly brought your hips up with your dripping folds hovering over his cock tip. From your view, you can see his abs rise and sink to his heavy breathing as you witness his cum—now foamy and bubbly—fall in solid whipped cream textures from your cunt onto the skin within his v-line with some serving as decorations on his softening cock making the best mess out of it.

You brought your eyes up to his hooded ones. "Clean up?" you offered.

"But no sex," he conditioned.

"No sex," you repeated.

But both of you are naked; and being in the same small space, it was inevitable for Sangyeon to prevent his bare cock from hitting and brushing everywhere.

He felt like Sisyphus but without the bad punishment.

[ilikemicrowaves]

I'm normal about Carnelian (I say as I read her wiki for the 7262763 time)

Anyways, I here's all my hcs off the top of my head that I have. I'll probably add more or make another post with. But any ways, there's A LOT so under the cut

• She calls Turtle, Tortise and Kinkajou monkey because she forgets their names or wants to be a brat

• Her and Winter talk shit 24/7, 365. Mostly about Qibli and some of the gold winglet.

• hates the other skywings except Flame she fw Flame and thinks hus scar is badass (he doesn't believe her, womp womp)

• The only dragon she doesn't name call is Winter, Moon, and Umber. Qibli gets called sand muncher or Kibble.

• after a while she call Moon moron out if affection.

• Hated Scarlet not just because she was awful but tried to execute her for being friends with Peril at one point

• Hunting (or rather killing) is her unhealthy coping mechanism

• Truly dislikes Kinkajou and can't stand her

• likes Bigtail

• HATES Webs. She would have killed Webs during the invasion if she knew

• Prefers the dark

• Really idolized Tsunami and thinks she's pretty cool

• keeps trying to convince Tsunami to add a combat class and mentions it frequently

• rain makes her mad

• allergic to pollen. Blud is not smelling the flowers during spring

• Trying to convince Clay to let her and Flame wear matching Spike collars (he's scared she's gonna use it to kill someone)

• temper issues

• bad memory from ptsd effects

• orphan (parents died lmao)

• Is scared of Onyx (wtf is there an adult here???)

• wants ppl to think she listens to heavy metal but really she likes depressing hypepop and speed core stuff

• speech problems, struggles pronouncing L and S. (S sound like "sh" and L sounds like "y"

• Steals a lot of ppls food when she's to lazy to kill smth (usually from Qibli or one of the skywings)

• hates being looked at

• always squinting her eyes and RBF

• hates her name

• gave herself a nickname that nobody uses (Carnage)

• would wear a lot of baggy clothes and denim (her and Flame are pretty similar when comes to clothes)

• Pretty selfish but she's learning to be slightly nicer (it's not progressing well)

• reluctant to tell people about her nonexistent parents

• what would beak her? An explosion (😀)

• human!Carnelian would have a perm that almost hangs over her eyes and lots of face piercings

• has a husky and hoarse voice.

• HATES the noise of ppl tapping their claws (she does not understand adhd dragons 💔)

• Even though she was in the camp that believed Scarlet was deceased, I think she more of hoped than believed

• She misses her battalion a lot (they miss her skill, but not her.)

• out of her 14 battles, one was the invasion to the summer palace. She killed atleast 20 seawings

• She has a few broken teeth

• Her breath smells like ass (doesn't like brushing her teeth because her broken teeth hurt.)

• Her favorite color is actually maroon

• I based her design slightly off of a Harris hawk

• her and Flame have matching copper bracelets they made in art class.

• has Moonwatcher help her with the homework and reads to her

• Wishes Peril would talk to her (Very self-conscious about it and thinks Peril hates her)

• says dipshit a lot

• She thinks she's badass (she's not in most aspects)

• She looks a few years older than she is because of her squinted eyes and muscular build

• Mad JMA wouldn't let her bring in her spear

• skips music class almost every day

• Would refuse to go to any school dances unless Flame or Moonwatcher would ask her to go. (Most the time it's Moonwatcher, Flame hates the dances too.)

• hates all of the seawings but Turtle (DONT TELL ANYONE!!)

• wants to knock out Pike but restrains herself for Flame. (She's a little jealous of there frenemy-ship)

• Umber/turtle/Carnelian trio!!!!