#the library is generally a peaceful place

[blackbat05]

saw a student leaving a used tissue paper on top of the whiteboard in one of the discussion rooms and it fell onto the floor.

i'm going to wait and see if he picks it up when he leaves. if he doesn't... i only hope that karma gets him because which arsehole does that.

edit: the tissue is on the floor

[moonsaver]

Sumeru roses, House of Daena, Sticky notes.

-------

Being an asisstant for the scribe isn't so bad. Just ignore the persistent overtimes, the scent of your perfume everywhere, and the new ink bottles that keep running out on his desk. You didn't anticipate red being his favorite ink to work with.

A/n: more than 2.5k words. I didnt bother counting. I hsed google translate for arabic whoops sorry not sorry <3 also its been a while since i wrote.

Warnings/tags: reader is g/n, yandere Alhaitham, Alhaitham x reader, stalking, paranoia, obsessive themes, very very subtle mentions of blood (if you squint), kind of drawn out? Horrible arabic google translate quote. Probably OOC but you can ignore that

------

You admit, being an asisstant isn't so bad.

Of course, at first when you broke the announcement to your parents you wanted to further your studies at the Akademiya, your parents werent approving. They wanted you to get a cushy job and earn as soon as possible; you don't blame them. Having that life sounds peaceful, however, you think delaying it a bit won't hurt. You haven't had the proper chance to really scour the library at your own leisure, at least, not as a student.

So, while job-hunting, (which was wonderfully disrupted by the huge Archon-Overthrow-play-god plan for a good few weeks,) you got an offer as the Asisstant of the Grand Sage; which was suspicious from how good of a title it was. The Akademiya was desperate to get back on it's feet, and who were you to deny the offer?

Of course, it didn't quite occur to you until the first day of your job you'd be working alongside Alhaitham, the scribe of the Akademiya (and perhaps his infamous title as the one who curated a plan to foil Azar's shenanigans).

Which was fine. He was generally alright,if not great to work with. Straightforward, clear, brief, analytical and most of all – he wasn't pushy. Which was a relief, of course. You managed to make small talk from time to time (if you could really call it that,) and came to a consensus with him on many things, mostly that both of you were not pleased with overtime. The moment the clock hit 5:00 PM, both of you were out of your offices and posts. You were mutually respectful, and generally tolerated each other well.

Of course, things at your job got shaken up when your schedule was thrown off balance. Your favorite drink always ran out, your mornings were crowded and somehow you started showing up later than usual, which meant you went home later aswell (much to your dismay).

Another strange series of events started taking place, if you could even call it that. You swear you haven't been watering the plants in front of your home, and the soil is dry enough, so how are they so.. vibrant? And recently, you swear one of the plants is growing a little too much, basically covering one of the windows, threatening to break it. Sticky notes scattered around the front of your house which you originally thought of as littering from those raucous kids your neighbours can't keep in control – you only realised they were for you when you caught a glimpse of your name on it, and you can only agree with the suspicious look on your friends’ faces when you show them the notes – bright Canary yellow and the striking red colour across the notes (although, you've only shown them the more milder ones. You can't imagine the panic you'll be forced to acknowledge if they see some of the other.. strange ones.)

And you suppose your paranoia has caught up to you. Your sleep-deprived mind swears that new red coloured bottle of ink on Alhaitham's desk wasn't there. You swear he never used that bright Canary Yellow colour of post-its. Did he really like that drink he always seemed to get for both of you? It conveniently ran out when you wanted it, and even more so, he conveniently just brought an extra since it was on discount? Of course it all just seems like a coincidence. You're a fool to even think otherwise.

And well, you're fine. Your life has always been a long series of fine, even with the occasional weird mishaps. That's how it's always been, and you don't intend to change it; rather, you really do find change almost repulsive (save for the panic you felt deep down in your stomach at all the things you couldn't control). And that “fine” comes to a halt when you find your door absolutely mauled with sticky notes. There's a bouquet of Sumeru Roses at the bottom, as if to try and apologise sheepishly for the terrifying collage on your door. The terrifying numbness in your fingers, face, your brows furrowed as you can't decide just how to react, the elevated heartbeat – you swear you can feel the blood threaten to burst through your chest. 

You opted to stay with a friend that night. You don't know what you were expecting when you came back in the morning, and all of those notes were gone, except a singular one in the middle, “الهوس والحب مترادفان، لكنهما لا يقارنان بارتباط روحي بروحك” (which you had to reread almost 30 times with your broken arabic, checked with someone from the Haravatat Darshan, to really confirm – obsession and love are synonyms, but they are nothing compared to the connection of my soul to yours – is what it said, and it's echoed in your head for weeks). You can't remember the last time you wore your rose perfume after that.

Scouring in the House Of Daena didn't seem to alleviate your troubles that well, either. The books you read one day, and opted to continue the next – vanished. Someone else always had the upper hand. And when they returned, they were scribbled and annotated with many pockets of information. Sometimes they overshadow the information on the page itself. And on the rare occasion you put your head on the books as a makeshift pillow for a power nap, you jolted up from just a sniff. Sumeru roses hit your nose.

And of course, when you find notes with all different handwritings on your desk in the office, you think someone's playing a cruel prank on you. But your office was locked. No one saw anyone enter your office. You did your usual check up before you locked it last night, and assorted everything in place. None of these notes were here. And of course, your only clue is the fact they're all Canary Yellow post-its, and that striking scarlet red ink on it. Hasn't the bottle on Alhaitham's desk been running out? He mentioned it off-handedly. You remember saying blue ink was cheaper. He didn't respond.

–

overtime was disdainful, for the lack of a better word. However, that implies only to the masses – it is no problem for him to come up with better synonyms to describe the situation at hand. “Distasteful”, “loathsome”, “detestable”, and so on. However, complaining will not solve the stacks of files on his desk that he wishes to do away with as soon as possible.

If anything pleases him more than his usual combination of abstruse books, isolation from the general public, and extreme individuality, it is that as the Grand Sage's assistant – you are expected to stay back for the extended hours as much as he is, if not more. For once, working overtime (or being forced to) has brought him progress. Will a few more hours of scribbling away and reviewing files change anything huge? He will return to his post again tomorrow as he has today, and the work will continue. Although, this time, it is you who stays working overtime. So for once, if it manages to quiet down the poking and prodding of other nosy scholars, reprimanding him for never working even a minute after the allocated time, he does so for the exchange of working with you.

And he doesn't intend to burden you, but he knows the desperation you work with, trying your best to cram in any minute, second into trying to get ahold of those books at the House Of Daena. So, if at least to make you stay for longer, he assigns you the more dragged out, tedious work. And to make it better – you just got locked out of your office. He has an extra pair, which he diligently uses for his own interest. As for you; perhaps being so frantic and scrambling to gather all books you might have read the day before may have caused you to drop your keys somewhere along the way. Would he know? Of course – he's diligently collected and added it to his inventory. Would he tell you? It would be like stepping on his own tail. The lack of certainty in a schedule makes for more freedom – he thinks. It's for your own good; he almost says. And to have you work in the same proximity as him? It's a bonus. 

Many consider him to be talented and extraordinarily intelligent, so just take his advice as literally as you can. Or maybe he just needs to tell you directly while making small talk between you two more frequent. To his dismay (and your absolute horror), the sticky notes seem to be working counterproductively. Perhaps he should just show up at your house with a bouquet of Sumeru roses and a small journal filled with his advice? He jests, it's only an entertaining idea. The bewildered look on your face makes him adore you – even if only imaginative.

The lift stops at the top floor. He sees your figure standing beside his desk, an expanse of books behind you. The sharp yellow lights contrast your figure to the dim blue light sphere in the middle. He feels the corners of his mouth perk up into a smile,and stops himself.

Another overtime shift for the both of you.

—

Overtime was not easy. You wouldn't have minded it – the job pays you well, and its quite comfortably tucked into the Akademiya, where no one bothers you, and you can easily access the House of Daena. However, the stress and paranoia has absolutely drained you. 

You've visited the matra recently. Frantically scraping together whatever evidence you can, everytime your “admirer” decided to gift you something new, leaving almost no time in your schedule. Daily visits to the library turned into constant visits to the matra, detailing your issues. You would have opted to stay silent, brushing it off as someone who was.. weirdly shy. But shy people don't stalk you, shy people don't leave obsessive notes for you, shy people don't visit your house at unholy hours of the night. And who knows what else this stalker of yours has been up to recently?

Revenge bedtime procrastination turned into sleepless nights, flinching at every sound, hiding under the covers until there was no oxygen and your entire face was covered in sweat. Workload seemed to increase, from how often you kept messing up, many things clouding your mind. Alhaitham's prickly eyes took notice, and he suggested drinking another beverage aside from coffee in the morning, and offered to get you something else – which you generously refused and turned down. (the last thing you would want to be is in someone else's debt at this time. Even if it's just a drink, who knows what else it could add up to in the future?)

So, here you were; irritated, on edge and in the dimly lit office which was viciously devoid of any natural light. You wonder why someone would want such a stuffy office, with books probably growing mold inside. Sure, it's spacious, but it's utter lack of life in it repulses you. It has the comfort level of a hospital waiting room, and it's just enough to add onto the little things that bother you, on top of everything else.

If that wasn't any better – Alhaitham seemed particularly chatty this evening. Perhaps his parasitic roommate (whom he has lovingly mentioned, multiple times,) has been ignoring him as of late? Maybe a commission in the desert, or a commission that requires a huge amount of unnecessary labour? And the (Acting) Grand Scribe has mentioned several times how the blonde architect works himself almost half to death just to get a smile out of his customers. You painstakingly understand him in silence, and don't comment on it.

The rest of the night continues – the benignity of it isn't lost on you. Occasionally perking up from your own scribbling upon Alhaitham's call, searching for a specific book on the vast (dusty, if you may add) shelves, and commenting on a few meeting topics and research projects he grazes, assigning you a few. He doesn't miss the comical dragging of your feet as you walk back over to your desk, befuddled with more work. He wants to tease you, he wants you to ask him for help, for an extra bottle of ink, for an extra post it note, whatever way in which you ask for his help.

He theorises you don't remember much of your and his student days.

—

“shit, I forgot them.”

You searched the familiar pockets and zips of your bag, scrunched eyebrows in frustration.

“Seriously? I'm not lending you any of mine~”

Your friend laughed. You sigh.

“I let you hog all my lunch and this is what I get as a thank you?”

“Too bad. You don't like the blue coloured ones anyway.”

“I'm desperate for a sticky note. Does it look like I'm in a state to be picky?”

Your friend laughs again, and throws their little compact stack of post-its on your book.

“Fine. But you've already annotated so much, what are you gonna write about?”

“Hmm? Wouldn't you like to know?”

You playfully ignore them, as they chitter behind you; carefully sticking it into your textbook and scribbling down the information before you forget. You sigh and look up. You make eye contact.

Right. It's him.

The grey-haired Haravatat boy that rarely showed up. Everyone knew him for his quiet attitude, and his tendency to make your professor's blood boil due to his absence in every lecture. Your friends had a few inside jokes about him. You would dare say this is your first encounter, or really the only one, with him. A stoic look and a judgmental one at the same time, behind curiously multicoloured eyes. 

Nearing the end of the semester – usually the smart ones would avoid the house of Daena, as it would overflow with study groups of caffeine-run seniors and freshman alike. Some of the other clever ones chose spots that weren't easy to find in the first place, and some chose to simply come early.

The thing is, you didn't come early. You were here from midnight. The librarian and all the security checks probably missed you, since you were neatly tucked away into the corner, taking a well-needed nap on one of your reference materials. You only woke up when one of your friends, and that boy poked and prodded you. Your friend laughed until they were out of breath when you looked up – drool slipping down past your chin, eyes swollen from the lack of sleep (and the incessant crying of an academic student), handwriting illegible from just how drowsy you were. The boy only stood quietly, probably judging your.. mannerisms. You weren't sure how, or why, he sat down at the same table as you and your friend. 

—-

Every once in a while - Alhaitham does use the sticky notes.

He didn't buy them. He wanted to borrow them for a short second, but in your hurry, you gave him the compact stack and left, never looking back. After that, you never got them back. Neither of you had the time, and your fate simply intertwined for a brief moment. Things like these happen.

But you keep appearing in the crowd.

He sees you in a flurry of students, or alone at a desolate desk. On a high-up ladder reaching an impossibly reachable book, crouching down to pick up the several you dropped in the process. Passing by the dull lecture halls as he slipped into the library, following the reference materials his father recommended, picked out neatly from private journals and books. The yellow sticky notes never served him much purpose after a single use. He debated simply keeping them on your desk the next time he saw you, but never quite worked up the courage. He swore the sumeru rose scent gave him a headache.

So, when he heard you were continuing your studies at the Akademiya, he was pleased. Working as a Scribe was a simple job, and his chances of seeing you just increased. And he may have been too ambitious, but it worked greatly in his favour – as he opened up another Assistant role for you. 

He hums, content with his decision to keep the sticky notes. Now - how would he utilise them? He wonders if you remember that friend's handwriting. Simple notes turned into obsessive confessions.

Once in a while turned into almost everyday, the more he observed you.

His obsession alone could become the subject of his own studies – but for now you are his sole interest.

And the next overtime, his first after returning to his post as the Scribe – he decides to finally close the chapter.

Has your perfume always been this sweet? That headache's been catching up to you. All that worrying and panic.. when was the last time you slept?

He opens the door to his office. You stand under the warm light, horrified. Piles of sticky notes crowd your feet. The wall barely peeks through behind you from the sticky notes. He closes the door, and a flurry of them fall from the movement. Both of you stare at each other.

“Alhaitham?”

You remember looking at the collection of sticky notes you'd received over a period of time. Is the red ink turning brown? You swore the color changed. Is it supposed to smell? You don't think you want to know.

“Congratulations. You've made it this far. Ive been waiting to talk to you in private."

Your arms go limp, dropping the stack of files onto the floor. The clock ticks silently. You should have gone home. Your bad habit of staying past closing time and evading the security seemed to have not worked in your favour this time.

----

[chanelles-world]

LIBRARY FUN - c sturnolio smut

disclaimers: chris!reader, fingering, pussy eating, quiet library, soft!chris

as always if you are a minor do not engage n stay away!

authors note: i am so sorry it’s been forever since i actually updated a fic. but here yall go. this was a request so i hope i did it justice. there will be a part 2 if yall want more (;

this was not proofread so i’m sorry if it’s ass. i am too lazy lol. also i apologize if it feels like it might be rushed, i don’t think it is and i actually like it soooo.. enjoy!

…

saturday morning, you and chris had decided to go to the library to get some studying done for your big final that was later this week. you both walked into the library and went to your usual spot that was far in the back where no one rarely sat. it was super quiet and peaceful, making it the reason you loved that spot.

you both were in the cozy corner, with bookshelves surrounding you high enough so no one would realize you were there. as you get comfortable and sit down you take your books out of your bag and place them on your lap. chris sitting next to you with his phone pulled out.

about thirty minutes had passed, by that time you were already getting sick of studying. you sigh without realizing that it was loud. chris hears your sigh and turns his head to look at you. his eyebrows raised in concern. “Is everything good, baby?” chris whispers, wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you closer into his chest.

you take a deep breath of relief as you feel a tiny bit better by your boyfriend’s comfort. you lay your head down on his shoulder, placing your books next to you. “no, this is too fucking stressful” you whisper back as you roll your eyes at the thought of having to continue to study.

“what is stressing you out? the thought of not passing or just studying in general?” chris questions as his hand caresses your thigh. you had on a white tee crop top with a light pink skirt on. your hair was pulled up with a claw clip, with two pieces of hair pulled out to the front.

“all of it if i’m being honest… so both.” you whisper. all of this stress was starting to get to you as you felt a lump in your throat. you so badly wanted to scream and just release everything you were feeling but you were in the library so you wouldn’t be able to do just that.

“i’m sorry baby, i hate this for you. I really do. you are going to do so fucking great though. I just know it.” chris says, responding. you slowly nod your head at his response as you carefully listen to what he said. “thank you. i appreciate it” you whisper back.

“always” chris says planting a sweet kiss on your forehead. you sigh once again as you were slowly feeling better. “is there anything i can do to make you feel better?” chris asks creating circles on my thigh with his pointer finger.

you can't lie, that felt nice. chris continues creating those circles on your thighs as he moves his fingers upwards. He lightly floats past your skirt lifting it up a bit. you nibble your lip at the dirty thought that crosses your mind. you don’t know if you should fuck it and get it down here or wait till you guys got back to the house as your mind continues to fill up with all dirty thoughts allowing you to get all horny.

as you were thinking of all the things you wanted chris to do to you, you accidentally let out a moan as chris has now moved up your skirt getting closer to your pussy.

you could tell chris had the same idea as he plays with the tiny bow that was on your lacy underwear. you lean your head against the bookshelf as chris quickly gets off the bench to place himself in between your legs.

chris stares you in the eye as he looks for your permission to continue what he was planning to do. you don’t know what he has in mind but you can definitely think of a few ideas. chris moves both of his hands underneath your skirt as you give him the okay.

he grabs onto both sides of your panties and slowly pull them down your legs and tosses them to the side. you gasp at the cold air that hit your pussy lips as your panties came off.

chris glances at your face before moving his hands to lift the skirt up a little more. before you know it you feel chris’s tongue placed on your hot, wet and juicy heat. your hips jumped in excitement as you did not expect it. your eyes flutter close as chris tongue flips upwards on your clit. “ohhh fuck!” you yell. a hand flies up to your mouth clamping it shut as chris continues to do magic on my pussy.

you realized that you yelled out of ecstasy and chris’s hand had covered your mouth. you start to blush remembering that you were in a library, but before you could feel all sorts of embarrassing feelings you felt a shock fly throughout my body. “oh gosh chris” your face scrunched up in pleasure. you could feel chris’s hot tongue push into your core, making your body start to twitch. chris continued to push his tongue in and out of your wet pussy lips before gliding it across your clit once more. you could feel your body aching as you could sense your high.

you start to think how crazy fast you realized you were close and chris just started.

you didn’t think you could feel any better at that moment, but your guess was wrong. chris removed his tongue from your core and started sucking on your clit and licking it at the same time if that was even possible. he made sure he licked up your dripping hot core. you felt like screaming. your whole body was on fire and he hadn’t even inserted his dick into you. “oh fuck!” you moaned loudly into his hand.

at this point it had only been about a few minutes and you could tell chris knew you were close. he did the same movements with his mouth again, eating you out as that made your legs start to shake. “chris i’m so fucking close, oh right there”

chris took that as a sign to bring his hand up to my pussy and insert his pointer finger. “mmmm ohhh” you groan in delight. with chris’s long finger in your pussy and his lips on your clit, you knew that was it. chris had removed his hand away from your mouth in the process of fingering you.

you opened your mouth to let out a moan but nothing came out. your head was leaned back against the bookshelf as a hand flew up to chris’s long luscious wavy hair, allowing you to grab a handful, which pulled him even closer to your pussy.

a few more seconds of chris fingering you and licking your clit you were finally able to feel your high. your stomach clenched together as you could feel yourself cumming. “oh my fuck!” you moan out. you didn’t care at this point if you were heard.

you could still feel chris’s mouth on your clit helping you ride it out. It felt so fucking good. your hand let go of chris’s hair and fell to the sides of your body grabbing on to the end of the bench as your legs were lifted in the air.

chris finally lifted his head up as he watched you finish your high. He watches your face with pure lust as he sees how beautiful you look feeling this good. you could feel your pussy drenched with cum spilling out as you were able to open your eyes now that you were done. you let out deep breaths that you didn’t know you were holding in as your chest rises.

chris took you by surprise as he bent his head down in between your legs and laps up your pussy clean making your pussy tingle. all the cum that was once there was gone in a split second. Chris pops his head back and stares at you. you both were still very horny and still did not care about the fact that you were in a library.

you both had looks of lust and love as you stared at each other. Chris moved over to sit in his original spot as you sit up and fix your skirt. your panties were still off and you did not care to put them back on as you figured that they would be taken off once more.

you figured that since chris ate you out, you should do it in return. Before chris could adjust to what you were doing you went down on your knees and placed yourself in front of him moving his legs to the side so you could kneel right there. You move your hands to the waist of his sweatpants .

authors note: guys how did we like??? we need more… lmk part 2 coming soon (; once again sorry if this felt rushed i honestly liked it tbh. give me more requests

tags: @mattslolita @sturniololol @recklesssturniolo @glossyfx @plasticferal @avasturniolooo @sturniolostuff

[cuubism]

Computation

part 7 of Complex Mathematics

(aka Dream vs Technology -- Technology: 1, Dream: 0)

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

Wednesday, 3:54am

Hob. what is the wifi password?

3:56am: why are you texting me when I’m in the same house?

3:57am: I did not want to wake you up.

4:00am: ……….

4:01am: Ah.

4:03am: it’s 12345. which is terrible security by the way

4:04am: how do i know this and you don’t? we’re in YOUR flat

4:05am: Computers are your friends, not mine.

4:10am: It does not like the password.

4:12am: alright i’m getting up

Dream creeps back into the living room, holding a cup of tea, as Hob’s tinkering with the router. Turns out it needed to be completely reset before he could reconnect it to Dream’s laptop. Not that this is that hard, but for some reason Hob doesn’t understand, technology is simply out of Dream’s grasp. Head in the clouds, too smart for basic computer skills, etc etc.

“A peace offering,” Dream says, placing the tea on the coffee table. He perches on the couch beside where Hob’s leaning over the router on its spot on the bookshelf.

“I’m not mad at you,” Hob says. He pats the router as its indicator lights finally turn green again. “I will take tea, though.”

“I woke you,” Dream says softly.

“You’ve woken me before, you will again,” Hob says with equanimity. Their sleep schedules are out of alignment, it tends to happen.

It’s the wrong thing to say, though. Dream cringes, hands folding in his lap. “I should be able to handle such things.”

“It’s just the wifi.” Hob finally finishes reconnecting Dream’s laptop and turns properly towards him. Dream still looks guilty about it. Sometimes Hob misses the time before they were dating, when Dream would bristle at him instead of caving. Just because he doesn’t like seeing Dream feel bad.

He takes the cup of tea and places it in Dream’s hands instead, briefly wrapping their hands around each other. “It’s okay,” he repeats. Possibly they should have a longer conversation about it, but Hob’s not emotionally awake enough for it.

Instead, he gets up and heads for the kitchen to put on some coffee. He needs something with more caffeine in it than tea.

“What are you doing?” Dream asks.

“Might as well get something done while my brain is online,” Hob says. He goes to fetch his own laptop from Dream’s bedroom. Lord knows it’ll need to get reconnected to the glitchy wifi again, anyway.

~~

Friday, 2:05pm

Hob.

2:06pm: ?

2:07pm: The wifi is angry again.

2:09pm: did you antagonize it?

2:09pm: hang on did you just wake up now?

2:10pm: I cannot comment.

2:12pm: I assume you have been hard at work in the library since six.

2:14pm: more like hardly working in the library. i did make an app that gives you a gold star every time you do the laundry

2:16pm: Will that assist in your routines?

2:17pm: probably not but it’ll be fun for 5 minutes

2:17pm: wifi password’s still 12345

2:18pm: maybe I should make an app for that instead…

2:20pm: I do not think it would help.

2:30pm: …You are not trying to make said app, are you?

2:34pm: nope just realized I’m late for a class and had to scramble out of there. I’ll be back later can do couples counseling for you and wifi then?

2:35pm: Very well.

For a while after putting down his phone, Dream stares at the wifi router in vexation, as if that will possibly make the angry red lights turn green again. He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. He knows even less what to do to fix it.

He needs the wifi operational to keep generating these fractals. He supposes he could go to the library and use university wifi, but that requires going out in public, which is preferably avoided, at least while he’s trying to work. So he will have to do something else until Hob gets back from class.

He recalls what Hob had said. That instead of working on his dissertation he had made an entire phone app about laundry. He had said it so casually, like it was a doodle to pass the time. Dream can use apps—barely—but he cannot begin to fathom how he would go about making one. Hob does not understand how even in his procrastination he is exceptional.

Well. This is something that Dream can do. Hob hates doing laundry—hence the app-based reward system—but Dream doesn’t mind. He finds it meditative. He will have to be more precise about fabric care instructions now, as while his own clothes rarely range beyond grey, black, and dark blue, Hob actually wears colors which might bleed into each other.

He puts on his headphones with some music, gathers up the laundry from the bedroom, and goes about his routine.

When Hob gets back, Dream has finished hanging the laundry to dry and returned to his contemplation of the router, this time still with his headphones playing. He’s lost in thought, and doesn’t notice Hob’s come in until his hand lands on Dream’s shoulder. Normally a sudden touch when he’s thinking would make him jump, but he’s become used to Hob.

“Trying to solve your marital problems through telepathy?” Hob asks.

“We were never married,” Dream says. “Indeed we are enemies.”

Hob laughs. He kisses Dream on the cheek, then kneels in front of the router. “You have to stop tormenting my boyfriend,” he tells it. It only blinks back at him innocently.

Hob can be very silly at times. “I do not think arguing with the inanimate object will help,” Dream says.

“You never know.” Hob takes the router down and sets about unplugging all the cables. Dream still doesn’t know what any of them precisely do, nor how wifi works. It may as well be magic.  

Hob has it fixed within minutes, of course. Far more effective than Dream’s intense staring. He gets Dream’s laptop reconnected, and Dream is finally able to start generating his fractal. “Thank you,” he says.

“Anything for my love,” says Hob, getting to his feet again. “Guessing you want some time to yourself now to work on this?”

“Yes,” says Dream, with some guilt. Hob has come home to help him only for him to immediately bury himself in his work again. But yes, he does want to make progress on this at last.

“Well, good,” says Hob, and Dream turns to him in surprise. “Because I’m due for a nap.”

Dream still hasn’t formulated a response to this by the time Hob’s disappeared into his bedroom. Strange, that their routines can be so opposite and still meld together so well.

Hob pokes his head back out into the hall. “Did you do the laundry?”

“Yes,” says Dream.

“I could kiss you,” Hob declares, then blows one to him before disappearing back into the bedroom.

Dream presses his hand to his cheek, as if to touch a kiss that had really landed there. Smiles to himself. Then goes back to his fractal.

~~

Monday, 5:02pm

Hob.

5:03pm: Wifi?

5:04pm: …Yes.

Thursday, 9:50pm

…..Hob.

9:50pm: I’m sitting right next to you.

9:51pm: ….

9:51pm: I’m just gonna get you a new router. This thing’s got problems.

9:52pm: I think it is I who has the problems.

9:52pm: That too.

Saturday, 6:00pm

Hob.

6:00pm: Is it broken AGAIN??

6:01pm: No. I got dinner.

6:02pm: Oh!

6:02pm: Fuck I’m starving.

6:03pm: Coming back from class now.

6:03pm: Don’t touch the router it’s in a fragile mental state.

6:04pm: Aren’t we all.

~~

Thursday, 3:50pm

This time, it is the wifi in Hob’s flat that is stymieing Dream. He does not think it is broken. Hob has merely changed the password, as he’s much more diligent about internet security than Dream, and then forgotten to tell Dream what it is. Or, more likely, correctly assumed Dream would have to ask him again anyway.

He briefly contemplates trying to deduce the password, but it is likely an incomprehensible string of characters that Hob would claim is ideal security precisely because of the impossibility of deducing it.

He refuses to text Hob about it again. Hob has a class to teach soon—Dream has his schedule memorized—Dream does not want to distract him. Though speaking of…

3:50pm: You have a class in ten minutes.

3:51pm: FUCK

3:51pm: I got distracted

3:53pm: Now… running

3:54pm: You are not near the building, are you.

3:55pm: NOPE

Dream smiles to himself, thinking of Hob sprinting across campus. It happens often. Hob is good at many things, but time management is not one of them. This is why Dream knows his schedule.

He does feel… a bit silly, though. He should be better at this, should he not? Less bothersome to Hob over small things that he should be able to handle.

Normally he would go back to his work to distract himself from these thoughts, but he still can’t work on his fractals without being able to connect remotely to the university computers, which are more powerful than his own. This is something Hob had also set up for him, because Dream had not been able to make any sense of the instructions he had been given for remote login, and the like.

Sighing, he instead takes his sketchbook out of his bag. It’s been a while since he’s made any time for drawing. But he had started looking at fractals in the first place to better understand patterns in art, to understand resonances between what occurred in nature and what was projected by mathematics. And drawing used to soothe him.

So he starts drawing, sketching the fractal he has been generating—to the extant that he can with the imprecise instrument of his pen. Even in infinite impossible digital form, the branching spirals eventually become too small for him to see, though he knows they continue on in perfect replication forever, smaller and smaller until they disappear into atoms. He cannot recreate that level of detail by hand. But he tries.

By the time he gets another text back from Hob, an hour later, he’s moved to the floor to have more space. He’s found a bigger piece of scrap paper and is drawing the fractal again, in more detail this time, color-coding the different shapes, free-handing where he should probably use a ruler for more precision. He has achieved several more levels of replication than before, but it is still not right. He can’t get it right. If he could only use the stupid computer system he could get it right.

Finally he looks at his phone, several minutes after the text alert pinged.

Thanks love 😘

Unexpectedly, it makes him tear up. Always this happens to him. He does not realize how frustrated he has become with himself until it is too late.

Of course, to only make matters worse, he is still sitting hunched on the floor, pen clasped tight in his hand, teeth clenched so hard it’s hurting his jaw, when Hob comes through the door. He must have texted not far from home.

“Hey, love,” Hob’s already saying as he comes through the door, “meant to stop and grab dinner but I totally forgot— I’m sure I have something here, though— Dream?”

Dream hasn’t moved from the floor, or responded. Hob puts down his bag and comes over to him. He looks down at the fractal, which is still incomplete. “Did you draw that?”

“Obviously,” Dream bites. The pen is still in his hand. He drops it, scraping a hand through his hair. Great. Now he’s snapping at Hob, too.

Hob sits down on the floor beside him. He studies the fractal. Then points to one of the shapes that Dream’s colored in red. “That’s supposed to be purple.”

Dream stares at the fractal. Hob is right, it is meant to be purple. According to the way Dream had color-coded it digitally. He looks at Hob. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve watched you fiddling with it enough. We set it up on your laptop, remember?”

Yes. Dream remembers. He remembers how Hob had helped him.

“Wifi giving you troubles again?” Hob asks, looking from the drawing, to Dream’s laptop, which is sleeping on the couch.

Dream nods, then saws quietly, “Are you not… frustrated with me? Annoyed?”

Hob doesn’t need to ask what he means. “Sometimes,” he says, and Dream can’t help his flinch. “So?”

“So?”

Hob shrugs. “I would have missed that class if you didn’t text me.”

Dream does not understand the relevance.

Hob looks up at him, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “Aren’t you annoyed with me?”

Perhaps he is, at times. Recently, Dream has been too absorbed in his project to feel much about it at all.

“I don’t know,” he says. “It is just how you are.”

Hob seems to think that Dream still doesn’t understand the point he’s making, and perhaps Dream doesn’t. Hob takes his hand. “Look. I’ve no idea why someone as smart as you are is constantly defeated by basic technology, but it doesn’t matter. Always having to be the one to fix the router is a small price to pay for having you in my life.”

Dream’s mouth opens, but no words come out. He… he does not know if anyone has ever put up with him with so little complaint. For truly, it is not only computer troubles. It is all the small things that stack upon each other to make him feel different and difficult.

“I find I do not like…” Dream admits tentatively, “when you must do these things. That I should be able to do.”

“You did the laundry the other day,” Hob says.

Why must he jump topics in this manner? “I do not understand.”

“Well, we don’t actually live together, you know. You have your own laundry. You don’t have to do mine, too.”

“I thought it would help you,” Dream says.

Hob just waits expectantly.

Dream looks down at his lap. “Ah. I… see.” Hob finds him frustrating at times, he had said so, but still wants to help him. He finds Hob’s admittance that Dream is frustrating to be a relief, in its way. He would only feel more on edge if Hob pretended otherwise, surely to snap later when Dream was least expecting it, as so many have done.

“Give me your arm,” Hob says then.

When Dream does, Hob pushes up his sleeve, takes one of the markers from the floor and writes on Dream’s forearm, the wifi password is I love you.

“There,” he says. “Now you won’t forget.”

Dream touches the words with a light fingertip. “This is not good internet security.”

“Oh, so you do listen my ramblings,” Hob says, laughing. Always, Dream thinks. “What, you’re going to throw out my valentine because I cut the heart out a little wonky?”

He makes as if to rub the marker off, and Dream pulls his arm protectively to his chest. Hob’s smile softens. He carefully pulls Dream forward into a hug, Dream’s arm pressed between them. Dream tucks his face into the crook of Hob’s neck. It’s one of his favorite places to hide.

“I’ll help you fix your program after we find some dinner,” Hob tells him, rubbing his back.

“I think I should give up on using computers,” Dream mumbles.

Hob chuckles. “See how you feel about it after I make you some brownies for dessert.”

Dream hums in pleasure at the thought, and Hob kisses the side of his head. And Dream touches, again, the words Hob’s written on his arm, where it’s pressed between them. And allows himself to smile.

Wednesday, 6:03pm

Dream is attempting to cook dinner. Hob doesn’t think it’s going so well. At least not if the blaring fire alarm, which Hob’s just silenced by waving a dish towel at it until the smoke dissipated, is any indication. But it does mean he’s been treated to the sight of Dream with his sleeves rolled up, delicate hands at work—and wearing an actual apron.

Having soothed the alarm, he leans against the counter so he can shamelessly ogle instead of helping.

“What are you even trying to make?” he asks, eyeing the still-smoking oven.

Dream pouts. “Only bread. It should not be so hard.”

“You didn’t wait for me to get home to watch?” He imagines the sight of Dream aggressively kneading the bread dough. It shouldn’t be a turn on, but it kind of is.

“You would make a spectacle of my misery?” Dream says, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, like he knows exactly what Hob is thinking about.

“Definitely,” Hob says, and Dream sighs, but turns to take the attempt at bread out of the oven. It’s… pretty blackened, to be honest. “Butter’ll save it, I’m sure!” Hob says cheerfully.

“Nothing will save it,” says Dream, morosely. He pulls off his oven mitt in apparent disgrace, and— Hob catches his arm.

“How has this not faded yet?”

For Hob’s writing saying the wifi password is I love you is still on his forearm.

Dream looks sheepish. “I got it tattooed.”

Hob tilts his head at him, confused. “So you could remember the wifi password?”

“So that I could remember this.” He traces his finger over, I love you.

Hob feels a blush creep across his cheeks. But it’s a pleasant feeling. “This is not even my best handwriting.”

“I know,” says Dream. He does not seem unhappy about it.

Hob takes his arm, touches the words, too. “You could have just gotten this part done.”

“I think,” Dream says slowly, touching the part that says, the wifi password is, “that this is another form of the same.”

And Hob… finds himself tearing up a little. Because it’s true. It’s so silly that Dream, certifiable maths genius, struggles so much with basic computer skills. But Hob will do any silly thing for him, because he loves him.

“Yeah,” he says, taking a shaky breath. “It is.”

“Unfortunately, you can never change the wifi password now,” says Dream, and Hob laughs wetly.

“I really can’t, can I? Terrible security. The things I’ll do for you, darling.”

“Would that include making proper bread?” Dream asks, and Hob nods, patting his arm.

“We’ll fix it, don’t worry.”

Now he’s wondering how he didn’t notice Dream getting a tattoo. Though to be fair, they haven’t seen each other as much in the past two weeks as they usually would, thanks to very inconvenient scheduling. Apparently Dream’s taken advantage of that time to do this.

“Can’t let you out of my sight for a second,” he says, as he fetches a new bread pan from the cupboard. “God knows what you’ll come back with next.”

“Be careful or I will consider that a challenge,” Dream says, and Hob pauses as way too many images flash through his mind. He shakes them off. He’ll never be able to focus on anything like that.

And Dream, the bastard, is smirking.

“Watch that look on your face or you might find that flour you’re holding dumped over your head,” Hob warns, but Dream only looks victorious, and utterly uncaring of the bag of flour he's precariously picked up.

“How will you ogle me kneading the dough that way?”

Hob swipes a dish towel from the counter and throws it at him. Dream yelps and spills the flour, which poofs up in a cloud of white landing all over his black t-shirt.

“Hob,” he complains.

“Serves you right, you dickhead,” Hob says. It only returns the smirk to Dream’s face.

“If you feel that way perhaps I’ll decide I don’t need your supervision,” he says archly.

Hob tears a piece off of Dream’s first attempt at a loaf. Or rather, breaks off a piece, which is hard as stone. He shows it to him as evidence.

Dream snatches it and shoves it into his mouth. Bites down with a crunch so horrifying Hob’s afraid he’s broken a tooth. But Dream persists, chewing it painstakingly and then swallowing, as if by force.

“Taste good?” Hob asks.

“Yes—” Dream starts to insist—then dissolves into a fit of coughing that swiftly turns into giggles. Hob loves it so much when he laughs like that. It’s so rare.

Hob laughs with him. Then frees the crumpled bag of flour from Dream’s grasp and sets it aside, brushes the flour and crumbs from his shirt. Then he takes Dream’s arm and runs his fingertip over the words again, still in awe.

He again finds himself having to clear his throat to avoid tearing up. But he manages, and says, “Let’s get you some proper, not burnt bread, yeah?”

“Please,” says Dream, a tad sheepish. “I am… very hungry.”

Hob kisses his cheek, then goes about solving that problem, too.

[mj-iza-writer]

"Alright my dear, it's time for bed", Caretaker smiled as they approached the couch where Whumpee was laying.

"But, um", Whumpee looked down at the book they were reading. They made a puzzled face at Caretaker.

"What do you want to say Whumpee? Go ahead", Caretaker encouraged. They were happy to see Whumpee communicate more often now.

"My book, I'm almost done", Whumpee held it up, "can I.... um may I?", asking for things was still a struggle for Whumpee though. It was a new concept for someone to actually care about what Whumpee wanted.

"Do you want a couple extra minutes to finish the book Whumpee?", Caretaker eyed the book curiously, "it does look like you have a few more pages."

"Ye-yes please", Whumpee relaxed. Fully thankful Caretaker had figured it out.

"Okay", Caretaker nodded, "thankyou for asking. I'll go get your bed turned down."

Whumpee made a frightened face, "please no. I'll finish reading tomorrow if you want me to. Please don't do that to my b..... wait, I'm sorry. I have no right asking that much.. please forgive", Whumpee struggled to catch their breath.

Caretaker knelt in front of Whumpee, "Shh, Whumpee what's going on?", they rubbed Whumpee's arm gently, "you can finish your book, I don't mind."

"Y-you said you'd tear down my bed, I was scared that you were mad at me. Then I realized I have no right to even have a bed. Please forgive It."

"Whumpee you misheard me. I'm going to turn down your bed", Caretaker watched Whumpee's face turn to a confused expression.

"Turning down a bed is the opposite of making a bed. You pull back the sheets, fluff up the pillows. Get any stuffies you might want. You get the bed cozy and ready for sleeping", Caretaker smiled, "you absolutely have a right to a bed. Where else would you sleep? The ceiling?"

"Master says a slave's place is on the floor, but they don't need sleep. It was lucky to be allowed to rest it's eyes", Whumpee looked down, "you're not going to tear down the bed?"

"No Whumpee", Caretaker extended their hand, "here, let me show you how to turn down a bed. You can read the rest of your book in the comfort of your bed."

Whumpee nodded as they took Caretaker's hand and followed them to the room.

Caretaker taught them the step by steps.

"Okay climb in, let's see if it is cozy", Caretaker lifted up the last sheet so Whumpee could crawl in.

Caretaker tucked them in and then pulled out a stuffed toy, "can't forget this."

Whumpee excitedly grabbed the stuffie and cuddled it close, "thankyou."

"You are very welcome", Caretaker stood and adjusted the light, "I'll come back and check on you in a few minutes, go ahead and finish the book. Maybe we can go to the library for another one if you'd like."

"Ok", Whumpee smiled, "thankyou so much Caretaker."

"You're welcome dear", Caretaker went to the door and grinned back at Whumpee.

Caretaker finished a few chores before checking on Whumpee again.

Whumpee was still sitting up, but was drooped over to the side.

Caretaker grinned as they slide the book from Whumpee's hands and set it aside. Careful to not lose their place.

They helped Whumpee lay down. Whispering reassuring words so not to startle them too much.

Whumpee squinted their eyes open for a second before nodding off again.

Caretaker continued to whisper while they pulled up the blanket and tucked in Whumpee's stuffed toy.

They turned off the light, then went to turn on Whumpee's nightlight.

Caretaker took in Whumpee's peaceful moans for a few minutes before pulling the door closed halfway.

Caretaker sat for a few minutes documenting the rest of the day before they to got ready for bed.

"Sweet dreams Whumpee", they made one final peak into the bedroom before heading to their room.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

[redheadspark]

Prompt #2 with Azriel

Pls.

A/N - BEAUTIFUL! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Time

Summary - Azriel never thought he had the time for someone. Cassian disagrees.

Warnings - Just some cute fluff

“Come on, Az.  Let’s talk about.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“Of course, there is!”

Az looked up from his makeshift desk, which was basically a piece of plywood that was blanking on top of two crates on either end.  He would get a better desk, or a legit desk if he wished to.  But he would rather use what he had than pay some money for something new and something he would barely use.  Maybe he was frugal, but he would rather be frugal than far too comfortable.  It was a running joke with the Inner Circle, how little Azriel would spend, and how he hated the concept of money.  Rhsyand was the opposite, though he used his spending on good things and for the better of those he loved.  Cassian just needed to learn how to handle money in general, if he was left to his own devices he would be broke within seconds.  

There, in his little broom closet of an office at the Townhouse, Azriel saw Cassian grin at him as he placed his pen down and kept his intense stare on Cassian, “I am far too busy for anything apart from work, especially with our upcoming negotiations with Tamlin and Spring Court.”

“Psh, that’s child’s play, and that dirtbag of a Highlord is nothing we can’t handle,” Cassian replied with a wave of his hand, “We have more important things at hand, including your love life.”

Azriel snorted and took his pen again, looking down at his paperwork that was in need of a look over and he scanned the paperwork once again.

“That is nonexistent,” Azriel explained.

“And that is the problem, especially since there is a clear candidate that can change that for you,” Cassian teased.  Azriel said nothing, but he knew exactly who Cassian was talking about.  It was the same person that was on the other’s mind who would be perfect for the Spymaster, the calm to his storm and the peace to his chaos.  

“I have no idea who you’re talking about,” Azriel hummed, writing a bit before flipping another page.

“Bullshit you don’t,” Cassian joked, “Being in a relationship and with someone you love actually makes someone…oh, I don’t know….more likable,”

“I don’t have time for a relationship—“ Azriel was about to say to him before Cassian clicked his tongue.

“That has nothing to do with anything I just said. Like at all!” He said back to the Spymaster.  Azriel had to pause then and look at the Illyrian Commander.  Cassian gave him a stern look, the kind that Azriel would get when he made a bonehead move.  Sometimes things did go over Ariel’s head from time to time, he was never one to pick up on regular social clues.  Perhaps he was too wired to be the Spymaster to simply be himself…what was himself anyway?  

Having a social life was never really part of his life, not for how long he was working with and for Rhysand.  He was far too busy to have downtime or hang out with friends, apart from the Inner Circle.  That was different, that was built on deep and intense relationships and friendships that made and shaped him.  But love?  Was there love meant for him?  Was there love meant to be in his life?

Did he want it?  Now that he thought about it.

“She’s coming over tonight for family dinner.  Nesta invited her, and as someone who will not go against his mate, I think it’s a great time to introduce yourself to her,” Cassian advised Azriel, who then leaned back in his chair and thought about it.  He did see you from time to time, you were good friends with Nesta since you asked Rhysand and Feyre to help start up the Velaris library.  You too were a bookworm, you loved reading books and saving the volumes that held history and stories that were meant to be told for centuries.  Of course, Rhysand agreed and gave the funding, along with the connections to build and jump-start the library.  Within months, Velaris Public Library opened to all the Velaris citizens and it was an instant hit.  

Azriel was there at the Opening Ceremony, seeing you beaming in pride as you spoke in front of the spectators.  Nesta was a partner in the project, standing next to you and clutching your hand in excitement since she too was enthralled with the notion of a library in Velaris.  Azriel was entranced by you from the start, there was no argument there.  But he also saw the thirst for preserving history and wanting to know more.  He loved that fire, that spirit, and yet it was laced with sincerity and kindness that was rare to see in the broken world around them.

“Come on, Az.  Live a little,” Cassian urged, to which Azriel finally cracked a smile.

“Oh, there you are Azriel! Come meet the guest of honor!”

“Honestly, I’m no guest of honor, Nesta.”

"Yes, you are! This is Azriel, the Spymaster himself. Azriel, come meet Y/N!"

You were sitting on one of the loveseats, holding a glass of wine in hand as Azriel came into the sitting room of the House of Wind.  After his talk with Cassian, Azriel felt as if he should be the one to officially meet you, though he was giving him some fear since he only knew you from afar.  He even tried to dress up decently, in a dress shirt and pants with his hair styled to be less rugged and more formal.  Perhaps he looked like he was trying too much, but at least he was putting in the effort.  

You were wearing a simple cream dress, though it was showing your curves in the right spots, and a shawl over your shoulders since there was still a bit of a chill in the air in Velaris.  Your hair, long and thick, was half up and down in a messy style but it suited you.  Azriel’s heart skipped for a long moment, you smiling up at him as you got up from the loveseat.  You two were smiling at one another, not noticing Nesta and Cassian watching from the side and somewhat hiding behind a pillar with their own smiles plastered on their faces.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” You said to him, holding out your hand for him to shake.  He took it instantly, your palms connecting and warmth was felt along your skin.

“You as well,” He said, your smile growing slightly.  

“See, told you that they were meant for each other!” Nesta whispered to Cassian as they watched you and Azriel sit together on the loveseat and start a conversation.  

“I know, baby.  I know,” Cassian hummed, kissing his mate on the cheek.

The End.

January Prompt Session

[amoremainslayer]

Gunwook Smut recommendations!

How about writing something about jealous Gunwook seeing a senior / someone older liking y/n!! Gunwook being a bit upset about it and reader make it up to him by showing him just how much the reader loves him?🧐

JEALOUSY - P.GW

Pairings : gunwook x reader

Genre : fluff, smut

Warnings: nsfw under the cut, blow job

A/n : Haii, sorry this comes out so late i somehow always forgot about this ask. Hope this is enough for you!!

To the ppl who hated on me, go cry about it💋

Not proofread!!

A deep frown placed itself on Gunwooks face, creating a small crease between his eyebrows. The two of you have been practicing for your debate contest for a few hours now, sitting on your usual place in the library.

Everything was peaceful to Gunwook, you were happily drinking the drink he bought you, the arguemtns your were gathering were more than just strong, and in general He could spend time with his crush.

Not until Eunseok, a senior you've known for about 2 years now approached you and suggested he'd help you "I used to debate aswell, you know" Eunseok mentioned nonchalantly.

Gunwook hated the way your eyes widened in surprise, a big smile on your lips as you asked Eunseok about his past debates. He didn't like the way Eunseok looked at you, he liked the way you reacted to greatly to everything Eunseok said even less.

"I didnt know you were into debates! Thank you for suggesting your help, but I think gunwook and I need to concentrate now" You spoke politely and gunwook smirked slightly. Now it was Eunseok who frowned slightly, but nevertheless left the two of you alone.

It was a wonder Eunseok had even found the two of you, you were sitting in a hidden corner in the library, a place you had only found after going through old and dark alleys no one even dared to look at.

You sighed, turning back to Gunwook to continue your preparations but the bothered expression on his face left you hesitating "Whats wrong wook?" You asked, trying to put your finger on what left him looking like this.

He gulped suddenly getting flustered at the fact you had noticed him being jealous "Its nothing, lets continue" he murmured, hiding his red cheeks while looking down onto his notes.

You could read him like an open book, it somehow felt as clear as water that he was jealous. You put your hand on his "Eunseok is just a friend to me" you reassured. Gunwook looked up, blinking a few times "Why are you saying this to me, its not like i'm jealous or something" He denied, glancing to his right before looking back at you.

You raised an eyebrow, standing up from your seat and walking up to him. You chuckled softly, your index finger wandering beneath his chin to make him look up to you "Are you sure? The frown on your face says otherwise" You spoke and his frown instantly disappeared.

He closed his eyes, internally closing at himself before looking back up at you "I didn't mean t-" he began but was interuppted by you shaking your head "I dont like Eunseok" You spoke.

He seemed confused "What?" he asked "Nearly everyone knows he likes you, so why wouldnt you like him back?" Gunwook felt confused, why would you lie about this.

You scoffed "Do i really have to proove it to you?" You spoke while raising a single eyebrow. Gunwook remained silent, but by the glow in his eyes you knew you had to.

You let out a breath, slowly kneeling down so you were the one looking up to gunwook now. He automatically opened his legs, eyes staring down at you while watching every move you did. Just the bare sight of you kneeling infront of him let all the blood rush into his erection

"I would never like someone like Eunseok" You whispered, cupping his buldge gently. After a few seconds you began undoing his pants, pulling out his length teasingly slow.

As the air hit his skin, a small groan escaped his lips. Precum was leaking out of his tip while his hand wandered to your shoulder. You gave him one last gaze before you leaned down, pressing small kisses all over his tip.

A soft moan left his lips while he watched you kiss him "Fuck" he groaned, adjusting his hips to give you more access. Soon you took him into your mouth, tongue swirling around his length while locking eyes with him.

He let his head fall back with a groan, his hand entangling into your hair while guiding you to bob your head up and down his cock "Baby you're doing so good" he murmured, the tip of his cock hitting your throat with each thrust.

Your hands were massaging his balls while gunwook closed his eyes. You felt yourself slightly chocking on his cock, slowly getting lost of oxygen "I'm so close baby" he groaned, hips bucking into your mouth.

You began sucking on his cock, further pleasuring him until he finally came with one last moan. He spilled his seat right into your mouth, his eyes closing as he lost himself in the sensation of your mouth on his erection.

You let go of his cock, gulping down his seeds before standing back up to face him "Proof enough?" you asked with a small grin, lips slightly swollen after the head you gave him. He chuckled softly "You're actually crazy, you know that baby?"

[see-arcane]

Cards with the Count

Thinking about how Jonathan is trying to pass the time during Vampire Hell Staycation with all the books in the library (a guaranteed Dracula Zone), no stationery (bastard), and a finite amount of secret pen ink and secret diary pages left at his disposal (shit). Reading and writing and art are all out. What’s left?

I like to think, in this order:

1)    He remembers that he has a pack of playing cards in the general luggage Dracula didn’t snatch. A gift Lucy had bestowed on him and Mina, a pack apiece, as she insisted that it was the best way to pass an hour in dreary company that wasn’t to do with gossip or politics.

2)    He doesn’t normally play, if only because he doesn’t have the coin to meet any real gambling stranger at a table. Just a ‘for fun’ thing.

3)    Fuck it. Solitaire. Card towers. It’s something to keep his mind off the…everything.

4)    He gets exactly one (1) day/evening of peace with this. Then:

5)    “Whatever are you up to, my friend?” 

(He didn’t even use the door to give Jonathan time to hide the pack. Misted in. No shadow to give him away. Fantastic.) Jonathan staples his smile back in place and rattles off something apologetic, so sorry, was he keeping the Count waiting? Let him just put this away, he wouldn’t be interested—

6)    Smash cut to the library. The cards are now unofficially confiscated/a staple of the Dracula Zone, alongside the fancy crystal chessboard the Count loves to crush him with on a semi-regular basis. Jonathan is walking him through the rules of sundry card games. Unsurprisingly, he latches onto the concept of American poker readily. The game is a soup of similar European predecessors that light up his eyes with recognition—primero, poque, brelan—sewn together with England’s game of brag into a medley of the initial rules, both written and unwritten.

7)    “A game of skill, then?”

“Skill, acting, and luck.”

Dracula grins as he produces a ransom of gold coins to use as chips. Jonathan deals. 

(What are the extra rules here? Does he throw every hand? Does he play in earnest and inevitably lose anyway? Does it even matter? It isn’t chess, after all. Not a proper strategy game. Cards happen. Guesswork happens. A winner and loser every turn. What does it matter?)

8)    Jonathan realizes two dozen hands later that what matters is, apparently, his face. One that, likewise apparently, cannot be read by the Count in this game. Out of those two dozen hands, Jonathan has won eighteen. Of those eighteen, his hand was the clear dud for nine. Through it all, Dracula’s eyes keep jumping from his own hand to Jonathan’s tired gaze. When Jonathan wins the twenty-fifth hand and the mountain of gold on his side of the table risks toppling off the edge, Dracula bites out a word Jonathan is sure is too caustic to have a spot in the lost polyglot dictionary.

9)    “You have a gift for schooling your face, my friend.” Every word is an icicle; each as sharp as the canines jutting out of the rictus grin.

“I don’t,” Jonathan says. 

And it’s true. Now he’s schooling his face—first lesson of anyone destined for the realm of serving others—but in the game, he’s barely thinking of anything else beyond the ticking of the clock. To punctuate this, he slides the heap of gold back to Dracula’s side of the table. 

“This is only a game for the fun of it. In a game with stakes, there would be something worth playing and worrying for. When you get to England,” his face is very, very schooled as he says this, “you’ll find a much more varied competition at gambling tables. The players who really train their expressions can do so with fortunes at stake, while novices reveal every victory or loss plainly on their face.”

10) Dracula considers this. And smiles.

11) “Ah, then there must be stakes before we can play the game properly. Still, you have won the bulk of these rounds, my friend—” his hand seems like it wants to be strangling something when it drums atop the gold heap, “—and done me the charity of not taking your rightful winnings.” He throws down his cards. Ace and deuce of spades. “I shall have to speak with the kitchen about producing a stand-in prize.” 

He leaves. Jonathan doesn’t blink when he hears the door lock behind him. A card pyramid is erected.

12) Paprika hendl for supper. As excellent as he remembers. Huzzah.

13) The next time he’s herded into the library, he sees what looks suspiciously like his travel paraphernalia flimsily hidden behind a bit of drapery. Dracula is shuffling the deck.

14) “A true prize on the table this time, my friend. I know you are one to appreciate the splendor of our beautiful country, just as I know it is, for your own safety, quite impossible to go exploring alone in the wild. Too many wolves about. But if you win the majority tonight, I shall see to it that my driver takes a leave from his own many errands to escort you beyond the castle for a time, if you so wish.”

“…And if I lose the majority?” He can’t help it: “I’m sure there’s little from me you’d be interested in.”

Dracula grins.

“We shall think of something, I’m certain. Here. Deal.”

15) As expected, Jonathan’s face isn’t effortlessly unreadable in its misery anymore. He has something to play for, even if his trust in Dracula’s dangling carrot on the stick is nigh nonexistent. He loses more. He struggles more. He worries more…

16) …But the wins and losses remain surprisingly even. On into the dawn they play, matching victory for victory. Even the Count seems puzzled. Jonathan is just tired. He was never going to win. The ‘driver’ will fall to some mysterious ailment, his possessions will disappear the moment he’s sent out of the room ahead of the Count. To Hell with it.

17) “I forfeit. We remain tied, so neither has to lose.” A sour smile curls. “Besides, I have kept you up too late again.”

“One more.”

“We can say you won—,”

Dracula gives him a Look.

Jonathan sits again. Plays again.

Wins again.

Dracula hisses several words the polyglot dictionary would be scandalized to translate. Jonathan feels the first genuine smile he’s wanted to make in a month and a half try to creep up on his lips, and stifles it.

18) Dracula turns over his cards and thumbs though the deck as if looking for a conspirator. He even scowls at Jonathan’s forearms, both bare through the whole game as he’d rolled up his sleeves. Still grumbling, his thumbnail finally hooks a card that makes a cloud pass over his face.

19) “What. Is this?”

Jonathan looks.

“Oh, that’s just a Joker.”

“Joker?”

“Yes, I thought I’d taken him out. He’s not a usable card in this game, but he’s sometimes used as a trump or wild card in others. That is, he’s there to turn the tide for whoever gets to play him.”

Jonathan reaches for the card to tuck it back in the box. Dracula pulls it out of reach, walks to the fireplace, and flicks it into the flames.

“Say what you will, but I recognize a symbol of sabotage when I see it. It should not be in the deck at all!” Still watching the little harlequin turn to cinders, he flaps his other hand at Jonathan. “Go rest, my friend. Take that infernal game with you. It is not a respectable pastime for men of our like.”

20) Jonathan gathers up the deck, gives his travel kit a last mournful look, and leaves for his bedroom, knowing not to ask after the walk in the forest as he goes. In his bed, he empties the deck into his hand again and thinks on four things.

Skill.

Acting.

Luck.

And…

21) He turns the deck’s neglected second Joker over in his fingers, the impish face seeming to hold a secret in its grin.

22) When he wakes next, he isn’t surprised to find the deck has been stolen. It doesn’t trouble him. Somehow, it even produces a tired grin on his face. It nearly matches the painted thing hidden, wild and powerful, in the pages of his journal.

[surielstea]

No one, But you

Based on this request.

Pairing: Cassian x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader feels as if she isn’t cultivated enough, Cass comforts her.

Warnings: Slight insecurities | mention of a pregnant reader | pure fluff

2.1k words

The cold wind nipped at my cheeks as I walked along the cobble stones of Velaris.

My mates hand intertwined with mine, the only thing heating me up. Cassian and I were doing some last minute shopping for solstice presents, he had four bags on his right arm and in his left, his fingers were busy being intertwined with mine, refusing to let me carry anything.

Amren is the only person we have yet to buy anything for, so we had one more stop at the jewelers before going home.

It wasn't often the General of the Night Court roamed Velaris so casually, especially not with me. It was rare I went out at all, but with Cassian? That was once in a year. I was a quiet person, liked to mind my business and hated being approached by strangers. So I typically left the house with Azriel or Amren, civilians knowing better than to talk to them. But Cassian, he was a seven foot tall beacon of light practically calling people to gawk at him, and they did.

I was young, only a century or so years old and had nothing on Cassian. He'd had enough stories to fill a library, all before I was even born. We mated nearly a decade ago but still, people were lost on who I was or what I was to any of the Inner Circle. Even if I liked to keep my peace it had some negative sides too; for example, every girl I've ever met thinks Cassian is single.

Which has become glaringly obvious now that I've become attentive to it. The cashier that bagged our gifts wouldn't peel her eyes off of him, even when he was talking to me.

At another store we bumped into a gorgeous female who Cassian supposedly bedded for a few nights in his twenties.

We walked along the streets and people straight up ogled at him, ignoring me at his side. I didn't want the attention, but it'd be nice if I was at least noticed.

Palace of Thread and Jewels sat on the bank of the Sidra that was frozen over this time of the year. Cassian reached out and opened the door for me, letting go of my hand as I entered the toasty shop.

Neve, a dear friend of Rhysand's, stood behind the display of gems and jewels, she was one of the only people outside the Inner Circle who knew of me and Cassian.

"Neve, afternoon." I smile at her. "Hello you two, shopping for Amren I presume?" Her glowing eyes flash with knowing and I shyly smile. "Have the rest of them already been here then?" I tilt my head and she nods. "I'm certain it's your group that keeps my shop in business." She claims and I shake my head with a small breathy chuckle. "Though we did just get a new collection in, the delivery men were just here I have yet to even unpack the items." She admits and my brows shoot up. "We'd like to see those." Cassian's arm slings over my shoulders. She gives both of us a smile before going into the back room.

I look at the display while I wait for her to return, peering down at a pair of tear drop ruby earrings that reminded me of Cassian's siphons. They matched the wedding ring on my left hand, I twisted it subconsciously, fiddling with the red gem. Cassian seems to notice, his eyes trailing to what I was staring at.

Neve returns in a flurry of shadows, carrying a long display shelf filled with large rocks and gems, placing it on the counter in front of us. I take in the collection, eyes glancing over every glimmering stone, freshly polished and gleaming like a star. Then I halt when coming across a black diamond bigger than my fist and most likely more expensive than an entire months’ paycheck. But this is the one.

Cassian seems to get the hint. "We'll take this one." He gestures to it, learning from last time not to touch. "Splendid." Neve smiles and plucks the gem up with a gloved hand before wrapping it and placing it in an ornate box. "Anything else?" She arches a brow. "That's it—" I begin. "Those ruby earrings as well." Cassian interrupts, pointing towards the jewelry I wanted. "Cass, it's too much." I shake my head with creased brows but he only waves me off and nods his head at Neve. She smiles and fetches those from the display, placing them in their own box with a delicate white bow tying it all together.

Cassian paid without so much as a blink while I grimaced in the background, the price far more than I had in mind— and if Cassian is buying me stunning earrings just because I looked at them, it made me wonder what he got me for solstice.

I had yet to tell him I'm pregnant, planning it all out so the last gift he opens tomorrow night will be a small pink pacifier. I was nearly a month in, barely even showing so Cassian hadn't noticed. We had been trying for a child for a few months now. I've had my scent glamoured and Madja told me last week we're having a girl, I was so excited I nearly told him, nearly came home and attacked him onto the floor with the amount of pure joy I was overwhelmed with.

But I maintained it, telling the shadow singer instead— who was the only person I knew could keep their mouth shut, the spy-master happened to be awfully good at guarding secrets. Lucien found out as well, somehow able to see through the glamour on me with his whirring golden eye.

We left the shop with a farewell to Neve and I wrapped my hands around his bicep as I look up at him with a bright smile. "You didn't have to do that." I say and he shakes his head. "It's all worth it for that smile." He hums, not watching where he's going as he mindlessly stares into my eyes. "Thank you—" My words are cut off by Cassian's head whipping up and pulling me back from a group of girls who were about to run into me. "Sorry ladies," He nods, flashing them a polite smile that could easily be mistaken for something else. "We don't mind." A blonde blushes as they pass by us, giggling amongst each other. "That was weird." Cassian mumbled as he continued our walk home, pulling me along.

Was he really so oblivious to not notice that every single one of those girls were prepared to open their legs right then and there for him? So blinded that he didn't even notice the way any of them looked at him?

Something like dejection overwhelmed me, perhaps Cassian should be with girls like that, girls who radiated pure joy and high energy, not someone's who's social life consisted of a close circle of friends and occasionally a shopkeeper.

Every girl I've met who used to have a thing with my mate has always been the sheer opposite of me. Perhaps that's what he preferred, just settled on me because we're cauldron willed, mates. Sometimes I thought that fate got it wrong. He was too good, too fun and upbeat, the life of the party. I couldn't be further away from the Generals type. He needed someone who has just as much experience as him, someone who loves to go out and dance until daylight— not someone who cuddles into bed with a book and a cup of tea.

His hand squeezes mine and he tears me from my thoughts, looking up at him confused. "Did you hear me?" He asks and I curse myself. "I'm sorry," I shake my head no. "Don't be sorry. I said, do you want to grab food or are you ready to go home?" He raises a brow and I swallow. Wondering what he truly wanted.

"Is it okay if we go home? I'm tired." I admit and he nods. "Of course sweetheart." He smiles down at me, I was foolish to think he'd ever want something I didn't, foolish to think he'd ever want someone other than me, but still, those thoughts lingered in the back of my mind at a constant.

Once arriving back to The House of Mist, food is already on the table. The residence seemingly knowing my growing cravings because every dish on that table held breakfast food. "Pancakes for dinner then?" Cassian hummed and I blinked, then shrugged.

I sat myself at the table as Cassian went to our bedroom to put down the gifts. I quickly thanked the magic House for the meal and it replied by placing a plate in front of me, eager to help me in any way it can.

I stack a tower of pancakes onto my plate, then nearly drowned it in maple syrup sourced from the Autumn Court. My mouth watered at the meal and Cassian returned, freshly changed into lounge clothes before sliding into the seat beside me, plating his own meal.

"I wonder what sort of crazy gift Mor will get me this year," Cassian thought absentmindedly and I shrugged, still a little down from my lingering thoughts— though the pancakes helped. "What's got you down, my sweet?" His knee nudges mine and I glance to him, his eyes searching my features for any clue as to what's wrong.

"It's hard to explain," I shake my head, looking back to my plate. "I've got time." He excuses and a sad smile tugs at my lips. "You're just very, experienced." I try to simplify but his brows crease, clearly confused. "Forget it." I mumble, picking up my plate and carrying it into the kitchen, he's quick to chase after me.

"Talk to me sweetheart," He pleads as I place my dish in the sink. "Please." His words seem to kill any doubt I have and I turn to him, looking up, and up, into his warm, hazel eyes. "It's just, when we were out shopping today you got approached by ten different females." I explain and he blinks.

"Which is fine, I know that's not your fault but— I don't know, they all seemed so exotic and fun. Seemed like the kind of person for you." I shrug and his gaze softens. "Oh my love," He sighs, hands going to mine, guiding my palms to his jaw. "There's only one person for me," He shakes his head, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"Mates or not, I truly believe you were made for me, and I for you." He hums. "And there's something so attractive about the fact that I'm the only male you've been with." He purrs and I roll my eyes with a flush. "But if you think for even a second you're not the one for me then you've been lied to." He rules, finally pressing a kiss to my lips.

"Opposites attract right?" He arches a brow and I shake my head with a soft giggle. "You're awfully nice to me." I say with a meek voice and he presses another kiss to my lips, his mouth slotting over mine and fitting me like a puzzle piece. I smile against the action and pull back with a wide grin. "There's my pretty girl," He whispers, hands on my cheeks as his thumb brushes over my bottom lip.

"Solstice is tomorrow." He reminds and I nod. "Did you get me something special?" He flutters his lashes. My hand subconsciously goes to my stomach. "Maybe," I say evasively, twirling out of his grasp and walking down the hall. He whined and wrapped his arms around me, his heavy body being dragged along with my movements down the hall.

He’s been trying to coerce what I got for him for days now. "You're relentless." I roll my eyes. "Just tell me." He groans and I shake my head. I've held out about being with a child for a month now, he'd have to wait one more day.

"Sorry Cass," I shake my head, leading him into our bedroom as he continues to drape himself over me. "Why don't you distract yourself by preparing for your annual snowball fight?" I offer and his arms snap away from me, scowling as I recall his losing streak.

"Maybe you'll win this year, General." I wink at him with a smirk and he grumbles a curse, flopping down onto our large bed then opening his arms for me. I smile and crawl into his embrace, allowing his large muscular arms to twine around my body as I pulled a book from my nightstand and opened to the page I was on.

Perhaps I didn’t need to be fun or exotic, maybe he liked the tranquility of all this. He pressed a reassuring kiss to arch of my neck, peering over my shoulder as he read along with me.

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[obeythebutler]

HEYO! Can i ask for some fluff please!! Specifically, the brothers react to mc being in an extra affectionate mood and they decide to cup their demon s/o's face and pepper their face with kisses. Then pulling away after a while with a giddy smile. When the bros ask what the occasion was or why, they would just shrug and say that they just felt like it. Theb smile sweetly

Just lucifer and beel is completely fine if you cant do all of the brothers! THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Kiss, Kiss! (Lucifer and Beelzebub)

LUCIFER

His forehead throbs in pain as he stares at the latest report sent to him for approval—another financing proposal for new constructions, and the demon sighs.

There's already a pile besides him that's now taller than his head.

Lucifer straightens his back, and adjusts his glasses so that they now rest on his nose and not threaten to fall off from his face. He dips the ornate fountain pen in ink, and resumes his monotonous work.

With the renovations taking place in the library, and with five new classrooms being built, fifty-five thousand grimm would not be enough to cover it all, given that inflation is at an all-time high at eight percent—

"Are you....busy?"

He looks up, eyes darting towards the doorway where you wait, smiling at him.

"Hey," He says, still holding the pen between his fingers. "Have my brothers been up to their usual shenanigans again?"

Mammon will be hanged upside-down from the chandelier this time, with enchanted ropes for an extra punch. In hell's sake, Lucifer hopes the demon hasn't gone and committed another mistake that he will have to fix.

"No," You affirm, staring at the man who has resumed his work. "I...wanted to be with you for a while, if you're free though." You mumble the last part, and when Lucifer looks up at you from his glasses you have the urge to hide your face. "A-Are you busy?"

What a stupid question. When is he not swarmed with work?

Although, you find that your words have had their effect on the demon, for Lucifer is now sporting that dopey grin that you've come to see in his most vulnerable moments.

"Come here," He asks, putting down his pen.

You oblige.

It's the same old, same old. In the way that you approach him when he's swarmed with work, banishing the solitude that the demon surrounds himself with. When you place yourself on his lap and let Lucifer find his peace with you.

But this, this is new.

He looks on, puzzled, as you cup his face in your hands, their warmth soothing. Your thumb, which brushes across his cheekbones as he's done to you many times before. When your lips are dangerously close, tempting the man.

He expects your lips on his; but Lucifer is equally surprised and happy when you place a kiss on his temple, the action gentle and affectionate. From there, you move towards his cheeks, his forehead, brushing past stray hairs, and the demon closes his eyes and basks in your affection that you generously give him, letting you do as you please.

This is nice.

"Why this sudden burst of affection, love?" He mumbles, placing a kiss on your forehead as he speaks. "Although I'm not complaining."

"Just felt like it."

You shrug, and Lucifer raises a brow.

"Oh?" He places his hands on your waist, head buried into the crook of your neck. You feel his lips there, warm and soft. "I suppose I may just have to be more busy now, if that is what will take for you to give me attention."

"I was the one asking for it!"

He laughs, the sound muffled in your skin.

BEELZEBUB

"There you go."

"Thank you!"

You grab hold of the bowl which is too big for you to handle, but given that you are making dinner for seven demons, including one adorable avatar of gluttony, you suppose the ladle which is as big as your fist is necessary.

Although you'll do whatever it takes to make your demon smile.

Beel stands behind you, watching the stew bubble. The fire from the stove reflects in his eyes, and the kitchen is immersed in a warm glow that banishes the cold that usually seeps in.

It's cozy.

And when you're the one cooking, Beel knows that he has to be patient. Wait, for it makes it all the more better, and also because you'll smack his hand with a spoon otherwise.

You turn around, and the demon takes a step back and sits on a chair, wanting to give you enough space to manoeuvre. He watches you put some dried newts in the bubbling pot, and when you turn towards him Beel assumes you may need something from the shelf behind him.

But you instead wrap your arms around his shoulders and bend down.

His face feels warm.

The demon closes his eyes and lets you do as you wish—pressing kisses on his face—a peck on his cheeks, another on his temple, somewhere on his nose, your lips are perhaps the best thing he's ever felt, and affection blossoms inside him.

It's so sudden, and yet welcome.

Beel smiles, pulling you closer.

It's in moments like these where he feels that he's complete, his eons-old grief temporarily forgotten, because you give him the strength to grow around it. It's when he knows that you are here and you love him, and Beelzebub loves you too.

He basks in the affection you give him, and the demon never fails to tell you that he loves you too.

"Heh..." Your Beel murmurs, cheeks turning pink. "That was sudden, but it felt nice. Though I can't help but ask, why?"

"Felt like it," You say, and smile. The same smile he wants to see on your face, the one he loves so much.

And what will he not do to ensure that he's able to make you happy.

"Could you..," He fumbles with his hands, nervous. "Kiss me again?"

[wrathful--artist]

Infected/Zombie Reader helping RE men (Leon K., Carlos O., & Ethan W.)

Somewhat based on that one zombie reader post by @qdbs-writes because honestly it was really cute and this idea has been bouncing in my brain for a bit. I’m going to preface that I’ve only played RE2R, but I have a vague understanding of the RE lore and stories, i’m only doing these three because I know them the best, if I knew chris better I would’ve added him

(this is just a suggestion but here’s what’s damaged on your zombie body: right eye gone, right cheek crewed off, left shoulder nearly gone, and several bites all around)

Leon S. Kennedy (RE2)

You’re one of the many, many, people who fled to the RPD to escape the growing hoards of zombies, unfortunately you were infected early on and hid out in one of the many storage rooms as you succumbed to the virus

…but your conscious stays somewhat intact, sure every thought is slower and less verbose but you still have some of it left, speaking is hard as well but you can speak to some degree

you stay on the third floor, observing Marvin and eventually Leon once he comes in

You’re enamored as soon as you see him, so you decide to try and help him as he goes through the entire RPD, placing some ammo here, some boards there, in general helping out behind the scenes despite how slow you move

This slowness bites you when you go down to the main hall to place a green and red plant you had found next to the typewriter, since Leon had been limping for quite awhile around the RPD

You gently place the two plants (still in the containers, you can’t grind them up due to the shakiness in your zombified hands) but you hear Leon coming down from the second floor library so you try and shuffle back into a room to hide again, until you hear the click of his gun

You turn around and see Leon, gun raised to likely give you a headshot like he’s given to plenty of the other zombies around (you know since you’ve seen plenty bodies with exploded heads..)

So you just, start shuffling backwards with arms raised in peace, mumbling ‘sorry.. sorry.. please, no.. hurt’ as best you can with your undead voice, which comes out pretty rough

Leon was about to shoot you but as soon as he saw you back away and mumble what sounded like human speech and not just growls and rumbles, so he lowers his gun slightly, tilting his head at you

You escape into the west office, and Leon fully lowers his gun and then looks at the plants you left him (he uses them, he’s not an idiot to ignore a healing item when he’s been at ‘danger’ for 2 hours)

When Leon unlocks the Goddess statue you come out from hiding and softly approach, and hand him some ammo and healing items “good.. byye..” you say to him look at him with your singular eye (you lost the other one when you got infected) before starting to walk off

Leon watches you walk away, about to hide again and he hesitates before saying “Wait, would you… like to come with me?”.

He watches you turn slightly and grumble “..you.. sure?”

He nods at you and you walk back up to him, and follow him as he goes down the stairs

Bonus:

During the G-3 fight you help by throwing yourself at him and stab one of the eyes with a knife Leon gave you, smiling in triumph when you stab an eye fully

Ada is very cautious and nearly shoots you several times, she thinks you’re just in the early stages of infection and she doesn’t want you killing her pawn (leon) before he gets the virus for her

When you get on the train Claire and Sherry are a bit wary of you but during the trip they start to like you, Leon’s account helps a lot as well

Carlos Oliveria (RE3)

Similar to Leon’s, you’re one of the people who fled to the RPD and got infected, and hid in a storage room (this storage room was clearly for all the Christmas decor… the bells gave it away)

You picked off the bells and kept them in a small box, as well as stealing post-it notes and a pen from the west office

From the second floor you watch Carlos and Tyrell make their way in, watching them scope out the place

As soon as you saw Carlos, you muttered under your breath “he..h.. scruffy..”

You noticed he was having a hard time with the Lickers, so you decided to make use of the bells you took, throwing them down hallways out of sight of Carlos so the Lickers chased the noise

He heard the chiming, making a remark like “The hell is that coming from?”

After awhile of doing this, you decided to just gift Carlos the bells

You place them on a desk with the brightest sticky note you could find

He finds it, noticing the stark contrast of the gloomy environment of the RPD, and reads the note

‘For the licks! Hold tighy in hnd then throw, it loud so they chse! : )’ was written on the note, it was hard to read being a shaky and messy handwriting but he got the general idea, chuckling at the squiggly smily face on it

He opens and sees 4 tiny golden bells

He looks around, hoping to maybe find who put it there but finds nothing, nothing but a hunched over dead (?) zombie next to the desk “Whoever put this here, Thanks, and thanks for probably being the reason for saving my ass a few times”

He leaves and you say to the air “no.. problemmm..!”

You start following him around and so he eventually notices you, and nearly shoots you on the spot before you move your hand to ring the golden bell you kept and attached to a string as a necklace

He relaxes a bit but keeps his guard up until he realizes that you’re just an innocent smart (questionable) zombie!

Bonus:

Before realizing that you weren’t gonna hurt him, he really thought you were because you kept staring up at his head… In reality you just really wanted to pet his hair, but because words are hard when you’re a zombie and you didn’t wanna get shot you just didn’t say anything

(You eventually did get to touch his hair, muttering a “soooft.. so.. soooft!”)

In that helicopter cutscene when Nicholai is about to shoot Jill, you jump from nowhere and tackle the guy by the neck; Carlos shouts in exclamation “Hell yeah! Get him!” before Nicholai punches your jaw right off (ouch)

Ethan Winters (RE7)

In this case you’re kinda like Ethan if he didn’t get all his memory and body transferred (does.. does that make sense???)

Since the moment Ethan stepped into the Baker House, you’ve been watching him

While you can’t remember most of your past, you know you were human like him, and watching him brings you a sense of… comfort. So you watch as he explores the house, trying to find Mia

Sometimes you forget what you’re doing and make noise, making Ethan more paranoid as he goes through the house (you felt bad every time you accidentally spooked him)

Watching him getting attacked by Mia was a nightmare, and you felt like you shouldn’t intervene… until Mia stabbed him in the hand

You emerged from the shadows (and mold..) and pulled her off of Ethan, giving a soft growl at her before she tried to attack you. You sidestepped and pushed her into the wall, which caused her to knock her head against the wall and faint

You stared down at her before turning to Ethan, who was a bit put off by your appearance

“You’re… hurt. Follow.” and you start walking to where a first aid liquid was hidden away and hand it to him

After patching him up you go over to the boarded up door and started to remove the wood with ease, before Mia got back up and threw Ethan through the nearly open door. You yelp (with some scratchiness) at that before running up to try and help, but then Ethan swung an axe into her neck.

You look at him and see the horror in his eyes at what he’s just done, you reach out to touch his back before slightly withdrawing; “you… oo-kay?” You asked in a low voice, and he shook his head before standing up and making his way deeper into the house, fully ignoring you after that.

So you follow, wanting to make sure he’s okay. He’s the only thing human in this house (for now)

Then Mia comes back again, of course, stabbing Ethan in the hand with a screwdriver this time. You run up and start trying to pry it out of the wall and his hand, before you see Mia coming with a chainsaw. She slashes with the chainsaw, cutting you in half at the shoulder before hitting Ethan’s wrist.

You blackout for awhile, coming to after about an hour as your body of mold stitches itself back together into one solid form again

Submerging into the mold, you reform in the living room adjacent to the nightmare dining room, seeing the back of Ethan tied in one of the chairs

You carefully untie him from the chair, before being noticed Marguerite pulled you up by the hair unto the table

You reach into a clump of mold and pull a smoke bomb before pulling Ethan out of the chair and away

From there on you helped him the best you could

Bonus:

You alway try and take the hits for him, he’s still fleshy and human, you can take it! He’s still worried for you despite the fact you can patch yourself back together.

When Ethan dies and becomes mold, you feel bad for him. You don’t tell him, since if he thinks he’s still human, then he’s still human to you.

After the BSAA comes you don’t know what to do, you assume you’re going to be left there or be experimented on… but Ethan calls your name (that you told him at some point, it’s one of the only things you have left from before being molded) and gestures you to come with him, you come close before fearfully looking at Chris, but he just nods and lets you on the helicopter.

OKAY WOW this is… something. I don’t know. I kinda gave up in that last one despite Ethan being my favorite next to Leon. I really hope, that this is good, im some way, amd i hope i didnt totally screw the canon, ahhh. Hope people like thissss,,, would’ve done art but i’ve got art block

[targaryen-dynasty]

LOVE ME NOW. (aka Mine)

Part 2 of 2 -> LOVE ME TOMORROW

modern!Aemond Targaryen x best friend!Reader

Person A always thought the benefits part only included sex, but with Person B it also seems to include cuddling, life advice and breakfast by @creativepromptsforwriting

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; p in v, praise kink, size kink, friends turning to lovers, confessions of love, slight Jacaerys Velaryon (he is a warning in this sorry lol), possessive and protective Aemond Targaryen, female Reader

WORDS: 3.7 k

NOTES: Aaaaand Part 2 is also posted. Hope you enjoy the director‘s cut. 🤭 Take care. Smut below the cut.

A few days had passed since the night Aemond crashed at your place and stayed the night, and you hadn’t spoken to him ever since. It wasn’t that you chose to avoid him on purpose–with several papers being due the next few weeks–but somehow you also did. 

His texts got noticeably shorter, until he eventually stopped texting you, his last message a simple ‘K’, clearly he had figured out that you indeed were ghosting him. 

The thought of him taking you out on a date didn’t sound too bad at the very beginning, probably because you were in a somewhat post-orgasmic haze when he had asked you, but your view on it changed once the possible consequences started to linger in your mind. What happened if things weren’t going to work out between you? Could you go back to being just friends? Or even friends with benefits? Or were your paths forced to part then? 

The dynamic of your situationship brought you a certain peace. There were no strings attached, and neither of you felt pressured by the seriousness that possibly came with a relationship. 

You relied on Aemond as one of your closest friends–your best friend even–and you really appreciated the advice he always seemed to give you, as well as his company in general. And you were certain you were going to lose him, and the comfort he brought you, if the plan of making things more serious would not work out. 

That was a high risk for you to take, yet you weren’t sure if your plan to avoid him until everything settled back to normal was going to make things better. There was no way it would get back to how it was before. Not after his question. Not after you ghosting him. 

You were sitting in the library, perched over a thick book. However, you had to read over the page several times, because you just couldn’t seem to focus on what was written on it–your thoughts always straying to the predicament you got yourself in. 

That was, until a presence behind you pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“I haven’t seen you in quite some time now.“ Aemond–you’d recognize that smooth voice everywhere. 

You felt his eye burning into the back of your skull, the intensity paralyzing you so much, you weren’t able to turn around to face him. Or maybe it was the shame of knowing what you had done to him. 

“Well, I was busy avoiding you, but my luck obviously ran out,“ you practically forced the words out of your mouth, only realizing how mean they had to sound once it was too late. Speaking before thinking. But by the way Aemond snickered at your remark, you knew he wasn’t angry and took it as teasing. 

The blonde moved to sit down in the chair next to you. “Yeah, obviously. It’s good I knew where to look for you, then,“ he remarked amused, hands clasped in front of him with his fingers fidgeting with one of his rings. He had probably asked your best friend Baela about your whereabouts, and certainly she was going to receive an angry message from you later. 

“Alpha Chi Sigma is throwing a frat party tonight and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me?” As a date? The unspoken words lingered in the air. The hesitation in his voice finally had you looking at him, your curious gaze immediately noticing the small crease that was showing between his brows. Normally, you wouldn’t blush when someone asked you out, but it was different with Aemond, given that you’d love to do nothing more than to come with him. 

ACS was one of the most popular fraternities on campus, and you were sure the party was going to be a blast, and overcrowded as hell–which also made you aware of how serious Aemond took the matter of taking you out. With you both attending the party together, he was willing to show everyone on campus that he wanted to be with you.

“Actually, Baela and I already planned to go together.“ It wasn’t a lie. Baela had asked you to join her, you, however, had politely declined and claimed you didn’t have time. But you couldn’t tell Aemond that. “Perhaps we could meet at the party?“

His face fell ever so slightly as you brushed his invitation off, but he was quick to cover the sting of being rejected up. “Well, I’m going to meet you there then, I guess.“ And with that, he left you, a slight ache prominent in your heart, because you did not want to hurt him. 

You sighed out once you were alone, resting your face in your hands in pure despair, because it meant you had to go out tonight, and perhaps also to acknowledge your feelings for him. 

But going to that party also brought a high risk of you stumbling into your ex boyfriend as well, and you weren’t keen on having Jace and Aemond finally meet each other for real. 

Baela, on the other hand, was more than happy you ended up accepting her offer, showing in the way she practically dragged you towards the large house. And just as you expected, the house was crowded with people, leaving little to no space for you and Baela to enter it in the first place. She grabbed your hand and forced herself through the massive wall of drunk people, until you both reached the kitchen. The room wasn’t less crowded than the rest of the house, but still gave you some space to get some drinks. 

“So, did he find you today?“ Your best friend asked, and you physically couldn’t stop the urge to roll your eyes. “He did, but I thought I was clear when I said I don’t want to talk to him,“ you said, your tone a bit more serious, “…and yet you still told him where to find me.“ 

Baela chuckled, nudging you with her elbow. “And I still have no fucking clue why you’re avoiding him in the first place. You’ve been fucking for the past few months, I get it, and he finally asked you out on a date. What’s the problem? What’s your problem, Y/N?“

You were clutching the red cup in your hand tightly, choosing to drown your drink completely because you felt like you needed a certain level of alcohol for that conversation–and probably for everything that was threatening to follow after it. 

Filling the cup again, you prolonged your reply for as long as possible, until Baela snatched the bottle from your hands to pour your drink herself. “Don’t be silly, Y/N. You were always gushing over how you’d love to take things further with him, to get more serious. And now he finally dares to ask you out and you’re ghosting him. That’s bullshit.“

Baela’s advices were just as good as Aemond’s, with the difference that she constantly beat your ass for your dumb decisions and wasn’t shy to scold you for them. She brought you out of your comfort zone, and reprimanded you whenever you were self sabotaging yourself. 

“I know,“ you admitted, sighing. “It’s just–” you gulped, “–what if it doesn’t work out between us? What if everything goes downhill? I don’t want to lose him because of shit like that.“ The tight lipped smile on Baela’s face showed you that she understood your concerns, but wasn’t fine with you chickening out once things with Aemond started to get more serious. 

“You’re not going to find out if you don’t take the risk, Y/N,“ she said, taking a swig of her drink, wiggling her brows at you as she peered over the rim of her cup. “And to be fair, he doesn’t really strike me as a guy that gives up so easily.“ She probably was right, like always, but your stubborn ass didn’t want to acknowledge that. 

Much to your surprise, she wasn’t done yet. “Do me a favor and think about it. That isn’t doing any harm and could help you find the courage to take the next step with him. I bet he’d spoil your ass.“

You nodded at her, chuckling at the profanity of her words, and leant back against the counter, putting your cup down. 

“Fine, but not tonight,“ you eventually gave up, and that answer seemed to please her. “Fine, not tonight,“ she repeated. 

“Do you mind me leaving you alone for a sec? Aegon’s here, and we have something to… talk about.“ 

“God, seriously? Since when are you fucking his brother?“ You grimaced, pinching the bridge of your nose, almost sounding disgusted. Almost. 

“Well, he’s easy on the eye, and it’s better I fuck his brother and not him,“ her words were topped of with a cheeky grin in your direction. Her jesting had you snorting a bit too loudly, followed by you rolling your eyes once again. “Yeah, as if. Now go, I can’t bear to waste another minute of my life listening to your bullshit. It’s better you leave me, than having him come over here.“ Maybe Aemond’s stories of his brother had influenced your impression of him. 

She was quick to scurry off, and you were left alone, once again. The knowledge of Aegon being at the party had you growing a bit antsy, because it meant chances were high Aemond was there as well already, and you weren’t ready to meet him again. 

But what you saw next had your stomach twisting in plain shock. You caught a glimpse of an all too familiar mop of brown curls–Jace. 

Just the sight of him had any color draining from your face, your panic obvious, even though you knew about the chances of meeting him at the party beforehand. And it seemed he had a sixth sense, because way before your eyes could leave his tall figure again, they fixed with his. So he had spotted you in the crowd. 

With you being alone, it was the perfect opportunity for him to approach you, because you wouldn’t even dare to reject him. 

The flick of his wrist made it perfectly clear where his priorities lay, making quick work of dismissing whoever he was talking to. 

Your eyes darted around the small kitchen, trying to find any kind of emergency exit that made it easier for you to put as much space as possible between you and him. 

You tried to leave the place straight away, only hearing him shouting a loud “Y/N“ after you, shoving his way through some drunk people. His voice had you stopping and turning around to face him, bringing back the memories of all the times your name had left his lips before, and readying yourself for whatever confrontation was going to come at you–but it never came. When you faced him, eyes flickering from the ground up to him, you saw Jace looking somewhat irritated–and intimidated–almost as if he was cowering beneath something. Or someone. 

A furrow was visible on your brow, more so as he only muttered an ‘it was nice to see you’ to you, before slowly retreating again. In the last seconds, you noticed his dark eyes fixating on a spot behind you.

When you turned around to follow Jace’s trail of sight, you spotted Aemond standing not too far away from you, standing in a corner with his shoulder leaned against the wall. His whole body was tense, chiseled jaw clenched and expression on his face as stern as never before, and the gaze he flashed your ex truly was intimidating. If you didn’t know him, you’d cower beneath it yourself. It was stern, cold even, as if he was daring Jace to take just one more step closer towards you, waiting for him to start a fight. And by the way the brunette all but ran off, Aemond’s plan obviously worked. 

You turned to face Aemond, still frowning. “I could’ve handled that myself,“ you hissed, still processing what had happened. 

Pushing himself off the wall, he sauntered over to you, not the trace of a smirk or grin on his lips. “Thank you, Aemond, for scaring off my fucking asshole of an ex boyfriend,“ was his snarky reply. 

In any other setting, you would have laughed about it, but it wasn’t the right time. 

He took a few steps closer to you, until he was looming above your small frame like he always did. But this time it was different, because an emotion you had never spotted on his face before was written all over his features. Concern. “Can we talk?“ 

There it was, the question you had dreaded for so long. It was inevitable to discuss what was plaguing the both of you, so you just nodded approvingly. 

He held out his hand for you to take, and you complied, allowing him to guide you through the crowd and upstairs until you found an empty room. In this case the master bathroom. 

Once he had locked the door behind you, he pushed a strand of his hair behind his ear that had fallen out of his neat low bun, seemingly pondering over the right words to say. 

But this time, you beat him to it. 

“I’m sorry, Aemond,“ you admitted, your shoulders falling in defeat, and you could feel your throat tightening under his surprised gaze. “I-I didn’t want to be a bitch and ghost you,“ you sighed with a shaky breath, deciding on letting him know the truth behind your rejection. 

“It’s just–I’m afraid things are not going to work out between us, and I don’t want to lose you.“ With tears brimming in the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall, your vision grew blurry, and if it wasn’t for Aemond closing the distance between your bodies to catch you in a searing kiss, you would’ve sat down to bury your head in your hands. 

The kiss was different from the ones you both had shared before. His lips held onto yours protectively, almost lovingly, like he couldn’t stand to part from your soft touch. It was sucking the air straight out of your lungs. Something in the way he cupped your face ever so delicately to pull you closer, made you lightheaded and desperate for more. But the kiss also was demanding, and all of a sudden, the guilt you had felt before washed away. 

With Aemond deepening the kiss, he slowly stepped you back against the vanity, until the edge of it pressed firmly into your ass. 

You reluctantly pulled away from his lips to catch your breath, looking behind you to check where exactly he had guided you to.Aemond, however, did not really give you any time to recuperate, because his hands quickly wandered to your thighs to hoist you up and sit you down on top of it.

The movement and the coldness of the marble against your exposed thighs had you squealing in surprise, and with your face almost being on one level with Aemond’s, you couldn’t help but to notice how kiss-swollen his pouty lips already were. You reached to trace them with your index finger, your eyes carefully following the movement of it seemingly mesmerized, whilst his eye was only glued to you. 

There was a silence between the pair of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, despite being thick with tension–sexual tension. 

“And what now?“ You asked, cutting through it, and phrasing what you both wanted to ask the other. 

“I don’t fucking care if you’re afraid things aren’t going to work out, because I’m not. I want you,“ he all but barked, possessive as ever. “You belong to me and no one else. You’re mine.“ The statement surprised you, and there was little you could retort to that, wanting nothing more than to be his. 

You swallowed thickly, bowing your head for a nod and stuttering an, ‘I-I am yours, Aemond.’

The change in his demeanor and the possessiveness of his words caused you to shift in your seat, and with him standing between your parted legs, there wasn’t any opportunity for you to squeeze them together and soothe the aching between your legs. Some of your arousal already coated the center of your panties, sticking it to your swollen folds in an uncomfortable way. 

Aemond seemed to notice your aroused state, one hand eagerly surging up the skirt of your dress and tugging your soaked panties to one side. The other, less impatient hand withdrew his rock hard cock from the confines of his pants and wasted no time in lining himself up with you, the bulbous tip prodding at your entrance.

But before he was able to thrust into you, you placed a hand on his chest to stop him. The impatient groan he made didn’t go unnoticed by you, even though it was really quiet.

“Are you sure it’s not just because you’re jealous of Jace?“ With your voice being barely a whisper, you addressed the elephant in the room, desperately searching for his reassurance that he did not just want you out of sheer jealousy. 

“This is about us, and not him,“ his raspy voice rang out, thick with arousal and somehow giving you all the reassurance you needed. His eye found yours, it was a few shades darker than usual, and wide blown with lust, but still granting you the all to familiar solace. 

The nod you gave him wasn’t only to acknowledge his words, but also to give him the consent to continue. There was no need for you to say it out loud–the message being as clear as ever with you wrapping your arms around his neck and your thighs around his waist, encouraging him to slowly ease himself into you. Both moaning gratuitously, your heart soared as he filled you completely in one thrust.

Aemond cursed through shattered gasps, “f-fuck, I will never get used to how fucking tight you are, Y/N.” His length plunged deep inside you with languid, fluid pumps. His tone was smooth and sweet as honey, and his devouring motions indicated that something about Aemond was different in that moment. There was a certain urgency in him. He had something to prove to you.

The agonizingly slow rocking of his hips into yours practically lit your whole body on fire, the familiar coil in your belly tightening quickly. With the burning sensation filling your veins, you couldn’t stop yourself from tugging his blonde hair, your fingers entangling into the strands at the nape of his neck.

Whilst you were moaning, Aemond was hissing at the pain your fingers caused, but it only seemed to spur him on even more. He pulled back until nothing more than the tip of his cock remained buried inside of you, only to seat his length back inside you with one swift curl of his hips, having you both cry out in unison.

He practically filled you to the brim, and even though you should have been used to it by now, you still loved the feeling of being completely stretched out by him. “You–You’re so deep,“ you whimpered at the rising pressure within you, Aemond’s tip relentlessly grazing your most sensitive spot. “You fucking like that, baby?“ His raspy voice retorted, which only had you nodding and moaning in return, especially at the use of a pet name you hadn’t heard before.

His head dipped towards you, and whilst you tilted yours up to catch his lips in a kiss, he moved to kiss your exposed neck instead, blazing hot kisses to your delicate skin. It wasn’t what you expected, but you weren’t sad either. 

He nibbled and sucked on your skin, eliciting several moans to fall past your lips. “I’m in love with you,“ he murmured softly against your body, hoping you wouldn’t hear him over the moans that slipped past your plump lips, and judging by the way your eyes journeyed to the ceiling and your head tipped back because of the pleasure he caused you, you did not seem to notice. 

He set a steady pace rocking into you, reveling in the way you practically melted into him as you arched your back and angled your hips. That was, until his thumb found your clit, tracing small, determined circles over your little bundle of nerves. That granted you enough pleasure to teeter over the edge in an instant, your walls fluttering all around his length. 

With the pleasure clouding all your senses, you almost did not hear his purrs along the lines of ‘such a good girl for me’ and ‘taking me so fucking well’. He was praising you, even though you broke a rule and did not ask for his permission to come.

It took Aemond a few more thrusts until he came undone inside of you, a gratuitous grunt accompanying his harsh thrusts. His cock twitched vigorously, spending inside of you and coating your fluttering walls. 

As you both unleashed strained moans, Aemond kissed your lips desperately, dipping his head and emphasizing the gesture and his feelings towards you. 

With the aftershocks of your orgasms slowly subsiding, he rested his forehead against yours, and Aemond smiled softly against your equally kiss-swollen lips. For a few seconds, your heavy breathing was the only sound filling the room. 

“Do you still doubt my intentions?“ Aemond asked, his smooth voice filling your ears. 

You shook your head and captured his lips, your hands traveling from his neck to his face to cup it. He chuckled as he tilted his head back to withdraw his lips from yours, slowly pulling out so he could help you get off the vanity. Before your hands were able to straighten your dress and adjust your panties, Aemond’s had already put everything back in its place, and a warmth spread through your body at his aftercare. 

“Come on, let’s leave this fucking place and go home. I want to spend some time with my girl.“ 

“You know,“ you started, the way your voice turned into a sheepish whisper catching his attention, causing him to stop in his tracks and look down at you. You reached for his large hand to intertwine your fingers with his in a reassuring manner, while your other fidgeted with one of his rings.  

A soft blush was covering your cheeks, and it certainly didn’t come from your previous encounter. 

“I‘m in love with you, too.“

[stillxnunpxidintern]

MiShanks x Reader Imagine - Convenience

(So cause of a Tiktok my brain, after only a few minutes, decided that marriage of convenience was needed, and I wrote all this just so I could have one little scene, this is way longer than I expected it to be.)

I hope that you all enjoy reading this.

Both Mihawk and Shanks happen upon your family, who have the manpower they are looking for, as they need more soldiers (for whatever reason), so your father agree to it as long as they marry you, as you keep denying all the suitors trying for your hand and your father had enough, and believed this was only way to get you married off now, so the marriage between you and them was preformed quickly.

They treat you fine but also keep you at a distance, some times forgetting you were there. At first you tried to get to know them as they are your husbands, but neither of them seemed all that interested in you, so you started to stay out of sight unless it was dinner, where very little words were exchanged.

The few times when you had conversations with them, is when they were hosting a dinner or a party, and play the good attentive husbands.

The other ladies would say how lucky you were to have such handsome and attentive men as husbands, while you just smile in response. These were the only times you got to be physically close to them as you danced with them.

The library became your main sanctuary, reading for hours on the window seat that overlooked the training yard, where you could always spot both your husbands and their men training. While you didn't stare at them you did occasionally glance at them from the corner of your eye, their shirts always hanging at least half open.

When you first arrived at your new home, they hardly seemed to use the yard for training but now it seems like they were always out there. At first it frustrated you, as you just wanted to read in peace without having to see or think of either men and tried different spots around the library but none had same comfort or light that window seat offered you, so you just dealt with having them out the corner of your eyes.

The garden also became a sanctuary, when the weather was nice and if the men came into the library you would close the book you were currently reading then head out to the garden and sit among the flowers, to continue the book.

While you paid little attention to them, thinking they did the same to you, but they were always paying attention to you and the things you did. When they brought you home they were initially just gonna leave you to do your own things.

It took a while for them to notice but their home had some colour to it now and seem more livelier, as they noticed colourful flowers around the place, some little trinket/ornaments in places they weren't before. Always changing depending on the week and what was available.

They took note that the staff were happier in general and that when they truly started to pay more attention to you. They watched you interact with all the staff in the house, smiling and laughing, offering to help them which all decline but you asked every time.

They saw how you were with children, as there were times when some of the staff had to bring in their children for reasons, both men never mind, as long as the work got done before they left. When one or couple of kids were there you would "steal them away" and help them to read or write, or when the weather was nice take out to garden and teach of the different fauna and flora from across the world.

When they noticed how often you would sit on the window seat in the library, they soon moved the training to the training yard so they could see you. While they couldn't hear the noises you made when reading a book they could see your reactions, they also notice when you looked at them, even if just briefly.

They both then started to come to the library when you were, to try and start being near you, that wasn't just dinner, to form some sort of relationship with you, but with you upping and leaving every time they enter put a pin that plan. Shanks would put his head on Mihawk's shoulder with a sigh before whining a little.

Realising that both of them coming to find you together, would make you leave, thinking that they wanted time together, both men decided that coming individually was the best choice for them.

When in the library Mihawk was the one who generally came now, while suspicious at first you got used to him being in there, even if there were little words exchange between you.

Before anything could actually grow between you both, Mihawk was summoned to court, leaving you and Shanks alone.

While it was just you two, you noticed that Shanks seems to be everywhere you, while he was kind and treated you well, he was always talking and being flirtatious towards, interrupting the peace and quiet you were used too.

You were sure he was just bored cause Mihawk wasn't here, why else was he spending so much time with you, neither men have attempted to get to know you so why would they start now. You did your best to avoid him but he always seemed to find you and chatted away.

The one afternoon that you found peace and quiet, and lack of Shanks, also became the worst afternoon, when screams for you and help echoed through the house. You scumbled out the of the library and made your way to the front entrance, to see Shanks being dragged in and bleeding.

Your mind went blank at the sight in front of you, someone was calling your name and shook you before you came back your senses, and told them to Shanks to his room, to get water and towels bring it to bedroom and then sent someone to go fetch the doctor quickly.

You quickly followed behind to the bedroom and watched as Shanks was placed on the bed, groaning in pain. You made quick work of his shirt, noticing just how bad it was with most of his left arm gone. Towels were quickly brought in and were placed under his bleeding arm.

Grabbing a towel, you quickly turned it into a tourniquet and tied it at the top of his arm/shoulder. When the water arrived you grabbed another towel and as gently as you could wipe away the blood, it was gruesome, as you had never seen anything like and never wanted to again, but it seemed like it was whatever did bite it off on one go.

It felt like like hours before the doctor arrived and then you were shooed from the room as the doctor did what he could for the remaining part of Shanks arm, and every shriek of pain from the red head had you gripping your dress in your fists.

Once the doctor was done and had come out, they explained what was done and that it was important to keep an eye out of fever and infection, but they would return with medicine and a salve.

You thanked the doctor, knowing that Shanks would live, you went to your room and wrote a message to Mihawk, explaining to him what had happened. Once it was done you sent it out, hoping it arrived quickly to him.

You returned to their room, to check on Shanks and sit by his side, watching him as you wanted to be there when he woke up. When he does wake he kind of surprised to find you and teases you a little about it, you just roll your eyes, telling him of course you worry, especially with Mihawk gone.

Eventually you find out the events leading to him losing his arm happen was cause he a saving a young boy life.

The first couple of days after the incident you made him stay in bed, until he had enough of laying in bed and would spend time in the library with you, and would talk about anything.

You made sure that he took the medicine that doctor, and thankfully cause of and that salve he hadn't fallen prey to infection or fever.

Shanks had begun getting used to having one arm, mainly with little things when Mihawk returned and when he did, you left Shanks to him, as he had the person that meant the most to him, and you went back to doing what you normally did.

For the first week that Mihawk was back, you hardly saw either men not that it bothered you, however after that it seems that whenever you saw either man they were unimpressed/unhappy with you but you had no idea, you left the two of them alone as normal, as you weren't needed.

It took a couple of weeks before the air seemed to settle down and everything felt like how it was before.

For once you weren't in the library or garden, but sitting on the floor in front of the fire place, in one of many the rooms, as you were worked on some embroidery. It was peaceful before the door slammed open, making you jump as Shanks walked in, without saying a word, he came and laid down next to you, using your lap as his pillow.

Unsure of what just happened, you focused back on your embroidery, leaving Shanks to his impromptu nap. Some time later the door opened again and this time Mihawk walked in with a book and glass of wine on hand, didn't say anything but sat down on the settee, closest to you.

Not a word was spoken between the two of you, just enjoying the quiet and crackling of the fire, with the occasional noise from Shanks.

For the next few months this routine continued, sometimes Shanks napped using your lap a pillow and other times, depending where you were, would either lay or pull up a chair next you, talking away. Mihawk on the other hand would appears some time after Shanks and would bring an extra glass of wine for you, which you always thanked him for.

The weather had become colder and wetter when both men were called away to deal with a small riot that was starting to get out of hand. Without either of them there currently the house felt oddly empty to you, even with staff there.

There was a rare day while they were gone, that it was sunny and warm enough, that you decided that you would go for a ride, as you haven't done it in a long time.

You had been riding for a while when you noticed that the sky was filling with dark grey clouds that were promising rain. Deciding it was best to return home, you chose to go through the forest thinking it would get you back quicker.

There boom and a flash of light, before the rain came down and soak you to the bone. The rain was making your visuality low, and harder to steer your horse.

While riding through a thick part of the forest, the horse reared up suddenly, causing you to be thrown to ground before it galloped away. You ended up hitting the side of your head on the bottom of a tree and it's root.

So you laid on the ground for a good while as you tried to get your baring before pushing yourself up into a sitting position against a tree. Touching the side of your head, making you wince and noticed blood on your fingers when you pulled it back.

It took a while before you stood up, with your head throbbing and the rain pelting down still obscuring your vision, you made your way through the forest, hoping you were heading in the right direction.

While that was happening to you, both Mihawk and Shanks had arrived home, a little before the rain began and were glad to have missed it, as it means they could have a quick wash and dress causally. They did notice that you hadn't come to greet them but thought nothing of it as they had arrived with no notice.

Once clean and dressed, Shanks went in search of you, looking in your normal spots but didn't find you, so he then tried the other rooms that you might of been but still nothing. So went to find his husband in hope that you were with him.

Finding Mihawk in the kitchen grabbing wine and glasses was easy, however you weren't there either. Frowning he asked Mihawk if had seen you, but was greeted with a simple no, as he said he was unable to find you.

It stuck them as odd, you weren't one to hide. If you didn't want to be around them, you would make sure they knew that but given its been a couple a hours now, this was out of character for you.

Both men began looking in each room for you, getting more worried and angry with each passing room. After checking the whole house and not finding you, they then called for all the staff foyer.

When all the staff were assembled, they both looked over everyone with sharp eyes, trying to see if anyone were acting strange. Mihawk was soon asking if any of them had you, but were met with silence as no spoke.

With no one answering, both of them getting more agitated the longer the silence continued till the air was thick with tension, as Shanks slammed his fist down on the banister making everyone jump.

"Where is our wife?!" Both Shanks and Mihawk growled while now glaring.

Seeing both men furious, the staff quickly spoke, saying they haven't seen you since after lunch and quickly left to check around the house and the grounds. Once they were alone again Shanks slumped a little and sat on the stairs, wondering where you were, while Mihawk stood beside him, placing his fingers in the red locks, staring at the door.

It was nearly dark by the time you finally saw the lights of the house. Your body was so cold, wet and sore, as your head was still hurting along with cuts, grazes and numerous bruises from the times you had tripped over so many tree roots.

Your clothes were ripped from the thorn bushes and low hanging tree branches you had passed, as well as being covered in so much mud, as well as blood probably.

By the time you reached the front door, your body was begging you stop for a moment but you knew if you did, you wouldn't be getting back up, and all you wanted to do was collapse on your bed.

With all the strength you could muster, you pushed one of the large wooden oak doors open and was greeted by the warmth that hit like a wall, before stepping in lit foyer.

The light was blinding for a few seconds making you squint before noticing both husbands at the bottom of the stairs. Before you even had a chance to say something or even close the door, they were in front you, embracing you.

Well Shanks was, Mihawk was next you after having closed the door, placing his hand under your chin, lifting your face up to look at him.

With having them both there, your body decided now to give up, and had Shanks not been there holding you, you would of collapsed to the floor.

Mihawk then gathered you up in his arms, holding you close as they headed to their room. Once inside you were placed on the edge of the bed as you stared at them. They ordered the staff to run a bath and bring up food for you.

With the staff busy doing their jobs, both men stared at you again, this time truly taking in your current state. Shanks grabbed a wet cloth from the bathroom, then wiped your face free of any dirt and blood.

You winced and moved your headed away when he wiped over the area where your head had hit the tree. Seeing that Mihawk cupped your face gently in his hand as he tilted your head to the side to inspect the area. There was a fairly big cut on the side of your head, but most of your hair covered it though, thankfully it didn't seem that deep.

Once Shanks was finished, Mihawk pulled you up from bed, as his hands moved as he begun unbuttoning/unlacing your clothes, pulling each layer off and dropping it on the ground with a wet plop, till you were just left standing in your underwear shivering.

Both men eyes roamed over you, the first time seeing you nearly naked, making you feel timid and insecure as you tried to cover up your body with your arms.

It felt an eternity with their eyes on you while it was just a few seconds, as a maid popped their head out saying that the bath was ready. Quickly escaping their glaze, you entered the bathroom and removed your last couple of garments before slipping into hot bath, giving a hiss as the hot water made contact with the cuts over your body.

The maids that were in there help wash you, being mindful to gentle wash over your cuts and bruises. When they began to you wash your hair, you winced and took a ragged breath as the shampoo hit the cut on your head, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes.

When they were finished, they left you to soak in the bath and found yourself closing your eyes but that peace was interrupted by the opening of the door and Shanks began talking, though it sound more like rambling at the moment.

Opening an eye you could see his red hair from the crack in the door, before slipping down further in hot warm and closed your eyes again, as you drifted in and out of it. Your body and mind just wanted to sleep, but falling asleep in the bath was not the best idea.

A sharp knock on the door made you sit up suddenly, before Mihawk spoke to you, telling you he was leaving clothes for you to change into with the towels, that were resting on the radiator. You thanked him as the door was closing and could hear Shanks say something but wasn't sure what.

You waited another ten minutes before getting out of the now cool bath, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around yourself, sighing in to the warmth that the towels held from the radiator. Once body and hair was dried, you grabbed the clothes that were left.

The clothes were a shirt and trousers, both items were big on you so you guessed that they either belonged to Shanks or Mihawk. You did your best to make them fit, as you stepped backed into the bedroom.

Both men turned and looked at you, making you feel nervous again as Shanks grinned and Mihawk stared more intently, taking in how you looked in their clothes. Stepping further into the room, Shanks came to you as he pulled you over to the bed and up against the headboard, keeping you the middle, before pulling the covers up and threw with his arm over you.

You were about to say something about going back to your room, but the food arrived, it was some soup and bread, but you were just glad it was something hot and light.

Shanks moved out of the way so the tray could be place down, but stay next you as you began to eat. You did your best to ignore both men while you were eating, but it wasn't easy when they were staring.

When you finished, the tray were moved and Shanks once more had his arm over you, pulling you down further under the covers. The warmth and weight of Shanks next to you, was pulling you ever closer to sleep, but before you did fall asleep, you ask them when you were going back to your room.

Shanks just gave you a little hum and Mihawk, who was now sitting in the edge of the bed and simply said you weren't. You were about to argue with him but he hushed you and told you rest, as he leant over and moved some hair from your face.

Almost like he knew you were going to fight against sleep after what Mihawk said, Shanks pulled you against his chest and hummed softly. The vibration from the humming is what eventually lured you to sleep.

You slept through the whole night and when you woke, you were sandwich between two very hot and firm body. Your body still felt sore and exhausted, you then tried to wiggle free but a single arm kept a tight hold on you, sighing in defeat you closed eyes and went back to sleep.

Over the next day or two neither men would allow you to leave their sight, you were constantly watched, so couldn't go back to your room and sleep but you did get some of your clothes brought in their room.

What proved to be a good thing, as on the 2nd night of sleeping with them, you developed a high fever what lasted 3 days before it broke. One of them were by your side at all time, applying a cold compress to your forehead.

Mihawk was who dealt with making you sure you ate enough, as you had a loss of appetite, and he would make you eat a few more bites of a meal. Shanks spent the most time with you, telling you news and stories of his youth, also helped when you needed to go to the bathroom, normally just making sure you could get there fine.

It took a few more days before either men would leave you alone for period of time. You were just glad you could wash yourself without worrying about falling over.

You kept trying to go back to your room now you were better but both men still refused to let you sleep anywhere but their bed.

As it was getting even colder now, with frost cover everything most mornings, you took solace in the library again, this time on settee that was placed in front of a fire, as it was too cold to sit on the window seat.

Most of the time you ended up curled up napping on the settee, wrapped up in a nice fuzzy blanket with whatever book you were reading, fallen to the floor.

Both Shanks and Mihawk had found you like that quite a few times now, and would leave you be most of the time, as sleep was best way to getting you back to 100%. The couple of time they have woken you is for dinner and would gently wake you up, either by stroking your cheek or moving hair from your face while calling your name and saying dinner would be ready soon.

It takes just under two weeks to feel back to your normal self. While you didn't nap that often now, you did enjoy closing your eyes and just listening to the cracking of logs on fire.

That is how both of them find you, Shanks sitting on the same settee as you while Mihawk was across from you. Knowing your peaceful moment was over, opening your eyes, you looked at both men waiting for them to speak first.

Shanks was the first speak, asking you for the first time what had happened when you had gone out. You tell them what had happened, when you were making your way back to the house, though there were some moments that were fuzzy. They asked if you saw what had cause the horse to throw you off, but due the rain you didn't see what had cause it.

They both asked that in the future, if you wish to go rider then to let one of them know and they would them join, providing they were home, otherwise to leave a note and tell servant where you were going, so if something like that did happen they could react faster.

You agreed them with on that, you rather that didn't happen to you again. You then asked them if you were allowed to go back to your room to sleep, and you weren't surprised when Mihawk said no, but Shanks gave you a smile, but there was something to it though.

Narrowing your eyes at both men, you finally ask them for the suddenly change and why they were so interested in being around you now. Shanks snorted before letting a laugh out while Mihawk just let a long sigh, which made you scowl at them.

Once Shanks had finishing, he looked at you before calling you sweetheart and telling you that they been trying for months to get to you know and you were being completely oblivious to their attempts.

You stared at them both, very confused at this revelation. Were you truly that oblivious, surely you couldn't be, all the times they had come to find you and they didn't say anything and acted like it was normal.

While lost in your thoughts, you didn't pay much attention to the light chuckle that came from next to you, so you yelped when you found yourself being suddenly pulled into Shanks lap. Which made him chuckle again as he placed his chin on your shoulder.

Looking over at your dark hair husband, you asked him when did they decided that they actually wanted this marriage to work and why neither of them said anything, as well as why were they prissy toward you after the accident when Mihawk had returned.

Shanks answered, telling you that after having you help and take caring of him only to ditch him once Mihawk return, that made him feel like shit that it was so easy for you to leave after accident like that.

Hearing him say that made you feel like shit now, you hadn't taken how he would feel then, simply cause he had Mihawk with him. You apologized to him, for making him feel like that as it wasn't your intention, you simply thought as Mihawk was back, you weren't needed/wanted anymore.

They both tell you that are you are very much wanted, and there was a moment of silence before you asked them how they wanted to go about this from now. Shanks said that they want this marriage to work and they want you as well, so starting now was it truly beginning, now that everything was aired out.

Hearing that they both you wanted, you felt your face start to warm up as it went red from being flustered. You quickly covered up your face with your hands, as Shanks began laughing as you peeked through your fingers to see Mihawk giving you sly smile, which just made you groan.

Once you were sure that your face was no longer red, you looked passed Mihawk, cause you were sure if you looked at him directly you would turn red again. You suggested spending time with each of them individually to get to know them and for them to know you.

They were as opposite as night and day, it made you wonder just how they ended up with each other.

They agreed that to that idea, but they also suggested that each meal is eaten together not that dinner anymore, even when one of them is away, you agreed that.

Other things were talked about as well, by the end of it was you were very content with sitting with in Shanks lap, who kept pressing light kisses on cheek and shoulders. Mihawk had moved to the same settee and pulled your feet into his lap, as his hands trailed up both legs to the knee and down again.

Over the next two month or so, getting to spend time with each man on their own, proved to be best idea as you learn much more about them, than you thought. With the weather bringing snow and bitter cold temperature, you got to time was spend with them, as there were no drills being done in the training yard, well apart from Mihawk who seem to do an hour of sword training in the morning, before breakfast, while you and Shanks stay nice and warm in bed.

Having spent more time with Shanks, you found that he was so much more flirtatious and excitable kind of like a child than you thought, you had yet to see him serious but something tells you that when it does happen to dock and cover.

You notice with Mihawk that not much change but there been times when he "bolder" is all you could think. You are able to pick up on the small the differences in his body language and seem to be more relax, as well as giving you small touches, with his hand on the small of your back or your thigh. Sometimes he will pull you in his lap for reason if your just pass by or if your both sharing the same settee in the library he will massage your legs so higher and only stopping when your a blushing stuttering mess.

Over that time you had met more of their friends, out of them all you like Beckman was your favourite, followed Edward Newgate and his couple of his son. They were all gentleman, kind and friendly, even if they did all tower over you. The one you tended to not interact with much was Sir Crocodile, while he had been only polite gentleman and done nothing toward you, but his mere presence intimidated you, his height and hook didn't help either.

You also got to met Luffy, the boy that Shanks gave his left arm to save, as well as his two brothers Ace and Sabo. It only took meeting them for around 10 minutes to want to claim all three boys as your own, especially with Luffy sunshine personality and seeing how both Ace and Sabo were protective of him.

Later on when you were talking to Shanks and Mihawk about the boys at dinner, Shanks chuckled and Mihawk just give a shake of his head but gave you a fond smile before saying that Shanks was enough of a child that no more were needed. You gave a laugh while Shanks pouted at the dark haired man.

When snow began to fall and settled thickly on the ground, you dragged both husbands outside, under the pretence of spending time together, but the moment they had their backs to you, you threw snowballs at them both.

When they both turned to you face, Shanks had a look of betrayal but his eyes held mischief, while Mihawk looked unimpressed with his eyes holding a dark glint promising punishment in the future. Both of them took a step forward while you took two backward before sprinting away, trying to get back inside, but you were quickly caught by a single arm, then thrown down into the snow with Shanks grinning down at you.

You gave him a shy timid smile which made him lean closer to your face, just what you were hoping for as you grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it down his back, pushed him over and stood up, grinning in triumph at him.

Shanks gave you a glare as he sat up but it was soon turned into smirk, as you momentarily forgot about your dark hair husband until you were grabbed from behind, making you squeak as you were held tightly against him. You tried to squirm out his hold but it just got tighter each time. Mihawk then placed his lips by your ears before telling you that this is what you get for your stunt.

You quickly turned your attention back to your red hair husband, who was now standing in front you, grinning down at you with a handful of snow in his hand. Knowing what he was about to do you tried to reason with him and bribe him with kisses, but it didn't help as you had snow shoved down the front of your top, making you eek and curse at him, as the cold snow made contact with your warm body.

When you finally managed to get free, you glared and pouted at both men, before declaring war then started to make and throw snow balls them. Very few of your throws actually hit their mark. At some point you ducked one of the snow balls Shanks threw which ended up hitting Mihawk in the side of the head.

Watching the scene unfold, your eyes went wide as you put a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from laughing, but the shaking of your shoulders gave you away. He turned and gave you both a sharp glare, as you quickly hide behind Shanks and threw him to wolf, saying that it was all Shanks and you were innocent, in this case.

That however did not sway Mihawk, both of you and Shanks ended up covered in snow, wet and freezing, after being tossed into the snow, a few times.

When you all went back inside, both you and Shanks had to change in to dry clothes, before cuddling up together to warm yourselves up in front of the fire. Mihawk just rolled his eyes before telling you both that it was your own fault, you shouldn't start something you couldn't finish.

Both of you just narrowed eyes and pouted at him, to which he just stared at you both before coming and claiming Shanks lips with his own, as he pulled you from Shanks hold, and placed you in his lap once he was sitting and placed a blanket over you, while his hands covered your to warm them up.

Watching Shanks spread out over the settee, you never imagined that when you first married both these men, that it would end up like this. You had thought it would be a loveless marriage especially with how the first few months were, so made peace with it but having spent the last two months actually getting to know both men and working on the marriage, you just knew it would be a happy and loving marriage.

You smiled to yourself at that thought before snuggling further into Mihawk hold, as you could hear Shanks teasing you lighting, as you decided that a short nap would be good right now.

As you were drifting off, you could feel kisses on the top of your head, as both men began to talk quietly.

You were very happy with how everything had turned out.

[flowersandbigteeth]

Your naga professor gives you a gift

General Plot: This is a longer, sloppy oneshot. You work at a library, frequented by a professor who studies amorous history and strike up a friendship with him.

Naga professor (Arion) x female reader

Word Count: 4k

💕 SFW MASTERPOST 💕

W: Yandere behavior, obsession, kidnapping, mostly sfw yandere fluff, there is a brief mention of cum, ambiguous ending

You never noticed the way he looked at you. The way his gaze lingered on you while you pranced around him pushing your little cart of books. 

“Need help finding something?” you asked him, holding a pile of books in your arms. You were a librarian in a college for the magical arts, already graduated yourself. You’d been offered the job right out of school after you interned there so you took it and never left.

It was a great atmosphere and the college community was kind of nice. Bright, young students were funny and ever hopeful, getting into all sorts of hijinks with their magic. The week before a student had glued himself to the ceiling of the gymnasium with a spell gone wrong.

As a hedgewitch, you didn’t have much magical power yourself. Your witch blood hadn’t allowed you any boons but your short stature and wide eyes. You could do hearth magic and bloom flowers, but that was about it. Your mother always told you if you applied yourself you could be a brilliant chemist, but it wasn’t something that interested you. The library was quiet and peaceful. Just right. 

You recognized the professor. He was a handsome naga who taught in the history department. He came to the library often, staying late into the evenings. He always sat in the same corner, his thick green tail curled over itself in fat loops as he read, scribbling notes with long, strong fingers. He was quiet and you hadn’t spoken to him much, except a few pleasantries in passing. That day, however, you caught him perusing a shelf. He seemed to be searching for something. 

He turned to you, jumping a bit. 

“Sorry to startle you,” you chuckled, putting out your hand and brushing his shoulder. 

You didn’t know why you did that. Maybe it was because he was handsome and flustered you a little. He had beautiful hazel eyes behind his metal framed glasses and long dark hair, streaked with a bit of silver, showing his age. He had it braided over his ears in the traditional naga way, the rest falling down his back in a smooth sheet. You jerked your hand back immediately. That probably wasn’t appropriate. Your cheeks pinkened, hoping you hadn’t offended him. 

His eyes widened slightly at your hand, but he gathered himself a moment later.

“Erm…yes,” he said, “there’s a book in the database that doesn’t seem to be on the shelf. Heart Magic of the Meridian Era. It says it's here and I can’t find it.” 

“Let me look into it for you,” you said. 

He slithered behind you to the counter and you pulled up the title on your computer. You didn't know that while he followed you, he admired your plump bottom and the cute little legs you tipped around on perilously.

“Oh I see,” you explained, “that book is part of the special collection. You can’t remove it from the library, but I can help you make copies of any pages and give you a private room to review it.” 

“That would be perfect,” he agreed, smiling at you. 

His smile was handsome, his fangs very long and sharp. 

“Everything okay here?” your manager Levi asked, sidling up to you. 

He peeked over your shoulder. 

“That book is in the special collection. Have you set him up with a private room?” he asked. 

“Of course,” you said tightly. 

He wasn’t a terrible manager, but he could hover a bit sometimes and occasionally it annoyed you. Placing a hand on your shoulder, he gave it a little squeeze. 

“Great job, (Y/N),” he said, “come find me if you need any help.” 

He wandered away to engage in his favorite professional technique, managing by walking around.

You glanced up to see the professor’s eyes narrowed watching him walk away. 

“Shall we go?” you asked, jotting down the book’s identification number on a post it. 

He seemed to relax a bit and nodded at you to lead him on. 

“I’m (Y/N), by the way,” you said, making conversation as you led him down the stone steps that went down a few floors to the basement where the special books were kept. They were books with dangerous magic that only professors and supervised graduate students could look at. 

“I’ve seen you around the library, but we’ve never been introduced.” 

He gave you a bit of a shy smile. 

“Arion Dernald,” he said with a tip of his head. 

“Wait here,” you told him, as you unlocked the door where the books were kept and went inside to retrieve the right one. When you’d found it, you brought it out with a pair of white gloves and led him to a private room. 

You looked at the heavily engraved book, covered with reliefs of passionate lovers entwined in each other’s arms. 

“Oh my,” you gasped, “what are you studying?” 

He looked even more bashful and cleared his throat.

“Ah…Ancient romance spells,” he said, “I’m writing a book about how romance was seen differently in the Meridian era than it is now.” 

“Oh?” you asked, as you laid the book down on some cotton cloth to protect the cover, “how so?” 

“It was more…intimate, perhaps,” he said, “lovers owned each other’s hearts. They used many varieties of magical bindings to grow closer.” 

“That’s what’s in this book?” you asked, looking down at it. 

“Yes,” he said, “mostly…and some aphrodisiac spells.” 

You weren’t sure why, but the contents of the book made you squirmy. Any kind of binding spell was illegal in the modern day. You gave him a hesitant smile.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then,” you said, “please use the gloves so you don’t damage the pages. The oils on your fingers break down the fibers.” 

You handed him a matching pair of white gloves and hustled out of the room. 

Glancing up a few hours later, you saw him carrying the book to you, a few pages marked with scraps of paper. 

“Could you make copies of these pages?” he asked, “then I’ll be done with it for today.” 

You agreed, taking the tomb from him and heading back to the copy machine. Flipping open the pages you glanced at the first spell, reading a few lines. It was a proximity binding spell, not allowing the person to leave a certain area around them. The next one gave you pause. It was almost like the proximity spell, but much more serious. It bound two souls together in this life and the next. The two parties couldn’t be too far apart from each other for too long or they would start to waste away and eventually die. 

The spell guaranteed that your souls would find each other in your next reincarnations. The idea was that lovers would rather die and be reunited in the next life than be parted. Who knew if it really worked. Ancient magic like this was spotty, mostly derived from sloppy experiments before the time of the scientific method.

Still, the concept of being tied together through death made you shudder a bit. It was a dangerous spell to make a copy of, but there was no rule against it. As a senior professor, the naga was authorized to copy any spell in the library.

You quickly made the copies and shuffled back to the naga, who was waiting patiently at the front desk. 

“Here you go!” you said, cheerfully, handing him the stack. 

He thanked you and slithered away. You watched his broad back as he left, unsettled for some reason. 

–

“I don’t like him,” Levi said quietly as you checked in books at the front desk. You followed his eyes to the corner, where the naga was curled up reading again. 

You drew your brows at him.

“That’s not like you, you like everybody,” you snorted, “what’d he do to you?” 

He glared across the library. 

“Something about him is creepy,” he said, “he’s here more than anyone else. A lot more and I looked up his browsing history on the public network. It's weird, all binding spells.”

You glanced over at him. He seemed perfectly normal to you, focused on whatever he was reading. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, “he’s a professor. They like to study and this is a library.” 

“Just…be careful around him,” he warned, “tell me if he says anything weird to you.” 

You nodded and he walked away.  

You shook your head of the bizarre interaction. Levi was normally a pretty affable wolf. It was weird for him to just not like someone for no reason. 

As if to test his instincts, you scooted your cart by him as you went to return books and stopped to say hello. 

“How is the research coming?” you asked. 

He looked up from his notes and pushed his glasses up his nose with a long finger. 

“Oh, excellent,” he said, “I think I’ve made a breakthrough in the translation. What experts have thought to mean blood is actually semen. They’ve been wrong for years.” 

You blushed. 

“Oh,” you said. 

His cheeks darkened and he cleared his throat.

“Erm…it’s a completely different reading of the text,” he mumbled on awkwardly, looking away. 

You couldn’t stifle your giggle and his eyes widened on you a bit. 

“What an interesting thing to study,” you laughed, “ancient cum spells.” 

He smiled too and the tension lifted.

“I suppose it is,” he chuckled, “but it’s for a good reason. We can learn a lot from the Meridian era. Partners were devoted back then, willing to risk it all for the ones they loved.

"Dating today is all apps and lies. It’s so plastic. My students hook up once and then never see their partner again only to do it the next night and the next night. Never any real connection. No real investment to speak of.” 

His eyes sparkled at you. 

“There’s something magical about true devotion,” he said, “and I think we’ve lost that romance with our technology.” 

“I guess I never thought of it that way, but you might be right,” you tilted your head, “People are always going on about not getting too attached.” 

He waved his hand. 

“That’s what I’m saying,” he said, “nowadays people conflate real love with red flags. Obsession, they call it.” 

You weren’t sure you’d go that far. 

“Well there has to be a limit, I guess,” you said. 

He shook his head. 

“True love knows no limits,” he declared. 

You smiled at him, charmed he was so passionate about his work. 

“That’s quite a topic for an academic paper,” you chuckled. 

“Yes,” he said, settling down. 

“My department head isn’t thrilled with my pursuits, but I think it will make a brilliant book. “The Return of Romance” I want to illustrate how beautiful Meridian era romance was and how we can apply their principles to modern times. I already have a publisher lined up and he’ll change his tune when the University is mentioned in the press release.” 

“That sounds wonderful,” you said. 

He beamed at your praise revealing his fangs and you felt something brush your ankle. Looking down you realized the tip of his tail had wrapped itself around you. Your heart fluttered at the contact. 

“Um,” you murmured, lifting your foot. 

He blushed, clearing his throat. 

“S-sorry, it just does that sometimes,” he stammered, unwinding it. 

“I-it’s okay,” you stuttered back, “I-I should get back to work.” 

After that day you started seeing Arion more frequently, only not only at the library. He seemed to turn up random places where you were. You would see him at a coffee shop on a Saturday or at the grocery store after work. He made the excuse that he lived nearby so you brushed it off without thinking. It was kind of nice to have a handsome neighbor to bump into that always had a smile for you. You had no complaints. 

He even started bringing you little presents at work. It started with a cup of coffee. He apologized that he didn’t know how you took it, but made you tell him for next time. Then it was a book, a small picture book of Meridian era artwork. Some of it was quite pornographic. You should have seen that as a red flag, but he was an academic. You figured he didn’t have the same hang ups as you. This was all research to him.

It came to a head when he brought you a bracelet. It was tucked in black velvet and looked very old. It was a gold bangle with some strange script carved into it. 

“What’s that?” Levi asked, peeking over your shoulder to Arion’s dismay at the open box he was handing you. 

“It’s a gift for (Y/N),” he said, “none of your business.” 

Levi frowned. 

“I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to be giving my employees gifts, (Y/N) is on the clock and you are also an employee of this university.” 

You waved your hands trying to diffuse the situation. 

“It’s nothing Levi,” you said, “just a friendly gift.” 

“Jewelry is not a friendly gift,” he snapped, “I’m going to have to ask you to stay out of the library if you continue to harass my staff.” 

You weren’t used to him being this protective. 

 “Levi!” you exclaimed, “you can’t ban him over this. It’s harmless!”

“(Y/N), I think there are some boxes for you to unpack in the basement,” he snarled, ordering you away and ending the conversation. 

You gave Arion an apologetic look and shuffled to the stairs. 

Levi apologized later, saying he just didn’t like guys who harassed women at work where they couldn’t escape and he didn’t feel comfortable with him taking an interest in you. He explained that it was his job to protect his staff from those sorts of things.

He even went as far as giving you a pamphlet on harassment in the workplace and told you he was reporting the interaction in the morning so there would be a record. You thanked him for taking it seriously and assured him it was just a casual friendship but he left for the night still determined to report it. 

Oddly, he didn’t come in to work the next day. He didn’t call or text and when you called him it went straight to voicemail. When he didn’t come in the day after that you went to HR wondering if you should call the police. When you finally were given permission to call them they just took your information and told you they would look into it, but that was all you could do. 

__

“You look anxious, (Y/N),” Arion said, as he slithered up to the front counter, “what’s wrong?” 

You shook your head, frowning. 

“Levi’s been missing for days. I just can’t help but be worried about him. This isn’t like him. What if something bad has happened?” 

Arion narrowed his eyes for a second before giving you an encouraging smile. 

“I’m sure he’ll turn up,” he said, then pulled the box from before out of his jacket pocket, “I have something that will take your mind off of that.” 

He showed you the same bracelet as before. You fingered the pretty piece of jewelry, running your finger over the gold before picking it up.

“Go ahead,” he said, “try it on.” 

You snapped the bracelet on and it conformed to your wrist making you jump. 

“Don’t be alarmed,” he assured you, “there’s a bit of magic in it…to... make it your size.” 

“Oh,” you said, relieved. You looked at the script written on it. 

“What does it say?” you asked. 

“Sweet nothings,” he said, smiling, “just Meridian era poetry. There isn’t really a good translation of it in our language. Maybe something close to ‘the strings of endless devotion bind us’, but not quite.” 

You nodded slowly. 

“Do you like it?” he asked, hopefully. 

“It’s lovely,” you said, “thank you for thinking of me.”

You were a little shocked, it was such a nice gift. You didn’t realize Arion thought so highly of you. 

“I think about you a lot, (Y/N),” he admitted, then blushed as if he hadn’t meant to say that. 

You smiled shyly. 

“I don’t mind if you think about me,” you shared, your heart skipping a beat. 

“Really?” he asked, his eyes widening. 

You giggled. 

“Sure, think about me all you want.” 

If only you knew how frequently that was, you might not have said those words. 

A customer cleared her throat, tapping her foot impatiently and Arion winked at you, giving you a little wave before he slithered back to his corner. 

–

Things went smoothly for the next few days, though Levi still hadn’t turned up. You knew how to manage the library on your own, so not much changed during the workday except you had to go to HR to get your timesheet approved instead of Levi. 

Arion brought you cups of coffee the way you liked it and pastries every day, his eyes always lingering on the bracelet on your wrist. You hadn’t taken it off. You’d tried the first night, when you showered, but the hinge was stuck and you didn’t want to break it trying to get it off yourself. You’d given up, figuring you’d take it to the jeweler over the weekend to have it fixed. It was such a nice gift you didn't mind wearing it and it appeared to be solid gold so the water wouldn’t change the color. 

“Good morning (Y/N),” Arion said, slithering up to you as he usually did, “what are you so busy with?” 

You were elbow deep in books, trying to get through the backlog. 

“I have to finish all these before my vacation,” you said, “the temp won’t know how to check them in right and it will be a nightmare to sort out when I get back.” 

“The temp?” he asked, his voice dropping and growing perhaps a bit more growly, “you’re going somewhere?” 

You smiled up at him, completely oblivious. 

“Oh yeah!” you beamed, “I’ve been saving up my PTO to take a trip to the ocean. I haven’t seen it in years. I’m catching a plane Monday morning. I’ll be back in a week.” 

You noticed Arion seemed genuinely disturbed. 

“Is everything okay?” you asked. 

“Erm…yes,” he mumbled, catching himself, “just thinking about a problem with my research.” 

He gave you a little wave before slithering over to his corner, his brow drawn. For the rest of the day he seemed to be frantically working something out, not looking at his books but instead his laptop and phone. You were too busy to go question him and it really wasn’t any of your business, so you just went back to checking in books and brushed it off. 

That night, however, on your walk home, you had the distinct feeling someone was watching you. You’d hurried into your apartment and locked the deadbolt, pushing it a few times to make sure it was tight. Closing the curtains, you let your magic light the stove and fill the kettle, setting it to boil. 

Hearth magic wasn’t usually taken very seriously though it really made your life easier. If anyone asked you, which they didn’t, it should be taught in college. Instead there was just a special interest club. It was considered a lesser magic, so easy and insignificant that there wasn’t much research done on it. 

You started some soup on the other eye of the stove and were beginning to relax when you heard a thunk that made you jump. It sounded like something heavy had fallen in your bedroom. 

You didn’t have any pets or roommates so there was no reason for anything to make any sound at all. Your mind immediately went to robbers. Gulping, you grabbed a baseball bat you kept by the front door and crept towards the bedroom. 

“H-hello…” you murmured, nudging the door open with your foot. 

The curtains were closed and the room was pitch black. You slid your fingers up the wall to find the lightswitch but something stayed your hand, making you jump a foot in the air. 

“AHHHH!” you screamed, jerking your hand back. 

Two large hands emerged from the darkness and clamped down on your shoulders, drawing you deeper into the inky room. You swung blindly with the bat, but whatever was there jerked it easily out of your hand.

You struggled as it pulled you under its arm, whispering strange words at you. Your body went limp and gradually the room began to fade. The last thing you saw was Arion’s face illuminated by the slice of light spilling in from the hallway. 

–

You woke with something tight wrapping around your waist. You shifted, your eyes still closed, and found you couldn’t move. You blinked, taking in the dim room around you and the naga sitting next to you reading in the lamplight. His coils were wrapped around you, pinning your arms to your sides. He wasn’t squeezing very tight, but you had no hope of fighting the thick, solid muscle of his tail. 

“Arion?” you murmured, your head a little fuzzy, “what…where am I?” 

He gave you his soft smile, folding his book and laying it on the side table. The smile you had grown to like, so much. 

“You’re safe here.” 

For some reason him saying that you were safe made you feel the exact opposite. You started struggling, even though there was no hope of you breaking free. Arion cocked his head at you, sliding his glasses off of his nose and tapping them on his chin.

“You’ll only tire yourself out like that,” he told you and squeezed you just tight enough to make his point without hurting you, “and I’ve been waiting so long for you to wake up. It would be a pity.” 

Your heart pounded in your chest, your mind muddled and not entirely sure what was going on. 

“Why am I here?” 

He slid his glasses back up his nose and leaned in to you, frowning. 

“I didn’t want to do it this way…but you made me,” he said, “you can’t get away from me.” 

“Away from you?” you murmured, “what are you...y-you mean…my vacation?”

Realization bloomed in your mind as it sharpened. 

“You did this because of my vacation?” 

He narrowed his eyes at you. 

“You did this,” he clarified, “why would you ever want to leave me? If you wanted to go to the ocean, you should have asked.” 

“Asked?” 

He was speaking as if you were a couple or something. 

“Arion, I’m confused and you’re scaring me,” you said, “can you please release me so that we can talk?” 

He squeezed you tighter. 

“No,” he said petulantly, “I’ve spent enough time without you in my coils. I’m not letting you go now. I wanted to take things slower, but you’ve made me accelerate my plans. It’s as if you wanted this all along.” 

You swallowed thickly, trying to slow your racing thoughts. The shy, quiet professor you’d come to favor was a complete nut job! 

“My touch is not such a burden to you?” he almost pleaded, sliding you closer to him. 

You grimaced and tried to pull away. 

“Don’t touch me! You’re insane!” you screeched. 

He growled. 

“You don’t mean that,” he assured himself, “you’re just a little frightened, but everything is going to be okay, darling. Your beloved is going to make everything all right for you.”

“B-beloved?” you sputtered, unsure why your mind was hanging on that word. 

His reptilian eyes looked at you, his pupils blown out and a little wild. 

“I know you love me, (Y/N). You told me I could think of you as often as I like and I find that is all the time,” he said smiling, “we don’t have to hide it anymore. I’ve taken away any obstacle that could get in our way. You belong to me now.”   

You whimpered. This was truly a nightmare. 

“You don’t have to do this, Arion,” you whispered, “we can do this the right way. You can take me on a real date! We’ll have a nice time. You don’t have to do this!” 

You were lying to his face. If he believed you and let you go, you were going to run straight to the police, but you would say anything. He gave you his gentle smile again, his eyes more lucid. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll go on lots of dates as soon as I know you aren’t going to try to run from me,” he said, “I know you don’t really mean it, but I still have to be sure. I’d hate for you to hurt yourself running away from your destiny.” 

He brushed his hands through your hair. 

“You’ve been taught devotion like this is wrong, brainwashed, really,” he clucked, his long fingers carding the strands, “but I’m going to teach you true love, love stronger than life itself.” 

“W-what do you mean by that?” you whimpered, a cold stone dropping in the pit of your stomach. 

He jerked your wrist from where it was pinched between his body and yours, holding up the bracelet. 

“I’ve bound you to me,” he said with pride, twisting the metal, warm from your body heat, in his fingers, “the spell I’ve been researching worked! The binder has fused to you, it'll never come off.

"Now we can be together for this life and the next. We can’t ever be parted. We’ll die and meet again in the next life if we spend more than a day apart. ” 

He chuckled. 

“To think all it took was a little bit of semen, that was what the spell has been missing for thousands of years. It’s the breakthrough of my life, honestly!” 

He nuzzled your trembling body as the realization of what he was saying sunk in. The spell. The one you’d copied for him! 

“You can’t do this, Arion,” you hissed, “it’s illegal! It’s…It’s slavery!” 

“No, no, my love,” he said, “that’s what they want you to think. They want to control your mind. What we have is so, so special. No laws can bind us.”

Desperation had become anger and now anger was turning to despair. You sank into his coils, resigning yourself to your future. You were no magician. You had no power to fight this. You could make pots and pans dance, but that was about it. You were so far out of your depth. Tears plummeted down your cheeks in hot streaks. 

“That’s alright, darling,” he said, rubbing your back and pressing your head into his neck, “get it all out. You’ll feel better after a good cry and then we’ll have a snack.”

You breathed in his disgustingly delicious scent and hated that on some level it comforted you. 

[sarawritestories]

Read For Me

Cassian xFem Reader

Summary: You and Cassian have the House or Wind to yourselves. When he finds you alone in the library with a smutty romance novel, he comes up with a fun game to play.

This is heavily inspired by one specific scene in King of Pride by Ana Huang (if you want a good romance 10/10 would recommend her books)

A/N: I'm still working on writing smut so I apologize if it's awful!

Content Warning: smut, M entering F, teasing, Fluff, not deeply proofread

Word count: 2.1k

 Cassian landed on the balcony of the House of Wind shaking off the chill breeze of the winter evening from his wings. He stepped into the house and was met with a peaceful quiet, but he could feel your presence. He was always acutely aware of your presence, and it was no different here. He knew you were at the House; Feyre had insisted you take a break, you had been working yourself ragged and everyone could see that it was waning on you, which is why you didn’t argue when she brought it up and Cassian whisked you up to the House of Wind.

The General was keenly aware that you were upset that him and Azriel had to leave for Windhaven for a few days and that she would be alone. After the second day at Devlon’s camp Azriel offered to oversee the training and checking in with the families. The Shadowsinger had smirked sensing Cassian’s eagerness to head back to Velaris, “Go home, Cas, wouldn’t want your Princess to be all alone in the big scary house.” Cassian had flicked him off and bolted home. 

Shaking off his boots of the lingering snow he made his way to your favorite place of the house, the library. Fae lights illuminated the doorway and a small smile crept over features as reached the book infused room and leaned against the door frame. You were sitting on the couch with a nose stuck in a book not taking in his presence. Cassian took a moment to soak in your appearance, your hair was up in a messy bun, an oversized emerald sweater, that exposed your bare shoulder, dark leggings and fuzzy socks that Cassian got you for Solstice, knowing your love of being comfortable and cozy in the cold months.

For the first time he couldn’t remember you looked so relaxed and peaceful. In a flash your scent shifted into arousal, you were shifting in your seat and Cassian knew that you were reading one of those romance novels Nesta and the Valkyries are always gossiped about. He cleared his throat and Your head shot up at first with embarrassment than excitement at seeing the General. “Cas!” You gave him a bright smile and Cassian was grateful he was leaning as that smile made his knees weak. You put a bookmark in your book and raced to him and leapt in his arms.

Cassian wrapped his arms around your waist, “Hello Sweetheart.” Your stomach did a flip at him you always loved when he called you Sweetheart or Princess. You met his hazel eyes, “Are you enjoying the time off?”

He reluctantly set you down as you shrugged, “I mean, I’m sure at some point this week, I’m going to get extremely bored and read every book here.”

Cassian chuckled a draped an arm over her bare shoulder, heat rose in your cheeks from the contact. “Well let me know if you want any of my war tomes you can sift through. When you know you get tired of your smut.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, General.” You flicked his nose, and quickly, he began tickling you. The sound of your laughter was music to his ears. He tickled you until tears pricked your eyes, “Okay, Okay, I yield.” He stopped and your smile didn’t leave your face as he presses his forehead against yours. “I yield.”

There was a pregnant pause as the two were breathing heavily, Cassian pushed off you and you found yourself missing his warmth. “Tell me about your book.” He said plopping on the couch grabbing your book you were reading.

Your eyes widened, and your crawled on the couch trying to grab, it from him but his forearm sticks out to keep me from grabbing the book, “Cassian, give it back.”

You noticed that his nostrils flared, and he looked at you and back at work, “Well, Y/N, Aren’t you a naughty little thing?”

You sat back on you heals and cross your arms your face warming up and avoid his eye contact him, “Asshole.”

Cassian looked back at the book and then back at you, “Would you be willing to play a game with me?”

You turned back to face him, your brow quirked, “What kind of game?”

He grinned and handed you your book. “You just have to read for me.”

You grabbed the book and your brows furrowed, “How is that a game, Cassian?”

The General leaned against the couch his wings tucked comfortably, “Well, the game would be if you stumble over the words or lose your spot, you have to strip an article of clothing and start over.”

Your breath hitched, “What if I can read through a page with no issue?” your voice barely above a whisper.

“Then I have to take off an article of clothing.” Cassian saw the panic look on your face, “Princess, we don’t have to if you’re not interes- “

You moved to press a hand to his mouth practically straddling him to do so, his hands instinctively moved to your waist holding you in place, “It’s not that I’m not interested.” You slowly moved his hand from his mouth down his chest where one of his Siphons resided focusing on the red stone than his assessing gaze, “Just never thought you were.”

Cassian hummed in response, then raised his hand to the nape of her neck his callouses pressed against your skin as your eyes met. He moved his head towards yours and pressed his lips chastely to yours only to pull away, “Are we playing, Sweetheart?” You tuck your bottom lip in between your teeth as you nod. He grazes his thumbs on your bottom lip, “I need words.”

“Yes, General,” his growl of approval of his title reverberated against your hand splaying on his chest. “I want to play.”

He smirked, and whispered against the shell over her ear, “Then go sit with your back against the armrest,” he gave your ass a tap and released his other hand from your waist. You moved to the other end of the couch and your back was against the armrest.

Cassian stood, and stretched out his wings as the setting sun illuminated the warmth color and the membrane of his wings. You were enraptured with them, and you whispered, “Beautiful.”

The General turned to you and noticed how you were staring at his wings, “You’re drooling,” You snapped out of your stupor and opened your book. “Whenever you’re ready, Princess.”

You begin reading the passage you left off on before Cassian arrived. You were about halfway through the page when muscled hands began to massage your shoulders. You paused as his fingers eased the tension out of your neck and a moan escaped your lips. Cassian chuckled and his lips pressed against the shell of your ear, “That was definitely a pause, an article of clothing has to go.”

You sigh dramatically and peel off one of your socks and lean your head against his shoulder, “Socks count especially when you’re not playing fair.”

Cassian’s laugh warmed your skin, “Do you want me to stop?” He hit a point that was extremely tense, and another moan escaped your lips.

“No, I’m just pointing out you cheat at games.” You raise your head and begin to read from the page again. Cassian hand continues to massage your shoulders sand your neck and you managed to read a full page with no interruption. “I have read a whole page, General” You lean back again and face him. “Strip.”

Cassian’s hands left your shoulders, and he walked in front of you and removed the top of his leathers revealing his chiseled frame and his tattoos. You forced yourself to meet his gaze and there was mischief in his eyes. “Like what you see?”

You stick your tongue out at him and continue reading. Cassian stepped closer to you, and you stayed focused on the words. His fingers grazed up your legs and raised up to your thigh and grazes the apex of your thighs, “Cassian,” you whimper as you raise your hips to get more friction.

Cassian tsked, “I highly doubt that my name is in that book,” You lift your leg with the socked foot when he gently grips your ankle to stop you, “I pick this time.” He eyes your sweater, “Sweater. Off.”

The low register of his command sent warmth down your core, as he places your leg back down. “Yes, General.” You close your book and take off your sweater revealing that you were not wearing any band underneath. Your bare breast exposed and Cassian’s eyes darkened hazel barely peeking through his erection rubbing against his fighting leathers. “Cassian?” His eyes met yours. “I don’t want to play anymore.”

Disappointment flooded him. “Of course, we can stop.” He tapped your leg and gave you a small smile as he rose, “I’ll leave you to your book.”

You rolled your eyes and got up from the couch and gripped his wrist before he could leave, “Cassian,” He turned and before he had time to react gripped his head down and crashed his lips against yours. Cassian’s hands gripped your covered ass, and you moaned leaving your mouth open for him to slide his tongue.

Cassian growled, “I need you, Princess.” He pulls down your pants, your panties dragged down with them. He breaks away from you for a moment as he pulled his own pants down. Cassian gripped your bare hips and presses a bruising kiss on your mouth gripping both hands behind your thighs as he presses you up against the bookshelf. The tip of his cock teasing your entrance.

You two pull away for air, “Cassian,” You moan as he trails kisses down your neck. He places you down his cock entering and stretching you causing lewd noises to escape your lips your hands tangling in his hair. Cassian keeps you there letting you adjust as he slides a hand up your stomach and groping your breast.

“You are so perfect, Y/N,” Cassian murmured between kisses, and began to thrust inside her. The grip on his hair tightened as he began to get a rhythm. He pinched your nipple, and your moan was silenced by his lips molding to yours. He pressed his forehead against yours, “So. Fucking. Perfect.” Cassian said between thrust. “Open your eyes, Sweetheart” you didn’t realize that your eyes had closed until you opened them to meet his and he smiled accentuating his beauty. “There’s my pretty girl.”

His hand moves from your breast, and you bring down your hand to intertwine with his. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze as he picked up the pace, you watched his wings flare and with a free hand you touched the top part of his wing and he sputtered. “Keep doing that and this will be over before it’s even started.” You retracted your hand quickly and he chuckled kissing you, “Wing play will be a game for a different day.” He kissed you again, his thrust becoming more erratic.

“Oh Cassian,” Pleasure was building with every thrust sweat coating both of your bodies, and he slips his hand between your legs and pinches your clit as you scream as stars entering your vision as you reached your climax. Cassian meets you in stride as you whisper, “I love you,” you kiss his neck.

Cassian roars his siphons flaring to stop the books from hitting you both, with a shield as his cum coats your walls. There was a moment where the two of you didn’t move from that position until he lifted you off him. He still carried you, bridal style and moved you to the bedroom leaving the discarded clothes in the library. You tucked your head in the crook of his neck. When you both got to the hall he whispered, “Did you mean what you said?”

You lifted your head, “When I said what?”

Cassian reached his room, and he lowered you but kept his hand clasped in yours. “That you love me?” You met his gaze and there was fear in his eyes.

“Cas, I have loved you for years.” Cassian’s face lit up, “Of course I meant what I said.”

Cassian pulled you close, His wings cocooned us, “I love you too, Y/N.” His lips tenderly found yours as he held you like he could lose you at any moment.

Something in you snapped and you felt the shimmering gold bond connect between the two of you. You leaned your head against his chest, his arms rubbing your bare back, “Looks like the Cauldron and Mother approve.”

Cassian kissed the top of your head, “I guess so.” He pulls you away and cups your face, “Any chance you’ll read for me again?”

You giggle and turn your head to kiss his palm, “Anything for my Mate.”

Cassian’s wings flare out and he picks you up and takes you to bed where you stay for the rest of your time off, with your mate, your General.

[khami-the-raccoon]

Hello! Your works are so beautiful! May I request a male! Slytherin! reader x Harry Potter! Maybe they get to know one another, and Harry finds out (Y/N) is a sweet boi? Thank you!

Hey! Thank you very much! I’m so glad you like my works ;) I hope you like this, and I’m sorry it took so long! Have a nice day!

Harry Potter x Male! Slytherin! Reader

Summary: Harry Potter x male! Slytherin Reader, where Harry meets reader, and doesn’t like him at first, but then realized he is a sweet boy.

Word Count: 583

Harry Potter Masterlist

General Masterlist

There was a flurry of activity in the Hogwarts Library as students hurried around, trying to find the ideal place to study. For a crucial potions experiment, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was reluctantly paired with a Slytherin by professor sensor. Because he had never spent much time with Slytherins, he had preconceived beliefs about them all being crafty and unreliable.

Harry saw Y/N seated at a quiet table in the corner, surrounded by materials and books about potions, as he neared the library. Y/N looked up, nodding politely as Harry walked near.

Harry hesitantly said, "Hey, I guess we're partners for the potions project."

"Yeah, I was just going through some references," Y/N said with a nice smile. Do you not think it is time for us to begin?"

Harry sat down, eyeing Y/N cautiously. They spent the first few minutes silently organizing their materials, still without talking with each other. Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he was in the company of a snake, a snake ready to strike at any moment. However, as they began discussing the project, Harry was surprised to find that Y/N was not only knowledgeable and good at potions, but also quite friendly.

"So, have you always been interested in potions?" Y/N asked, preparing the cauldron they were going to use with practiced ease.

Harry shrugged, "Not really. I never thought I'd end up taking it, but here we are." He said, still not entirely trusting Y/N.

After that day and their initial project collaboration, Harry spotted Y/N peacefully reading in the library with their pet by their side.

Curious, he decided to approach the peaceful and sweet boy.

"Hey, mind if I join you?" Harry asked, gesturing to the empty seat.

Y/N looked up, Harry could see he was surprised that Harry even talked to him when it was not to talk about the project. He smiled, "Not at all. Take a seat."

As the days passed, Harry and Y/N found themselves spending more time together in the library, discussing not just potions but their interests, hobbies, and dreams. Harry discovered that Y/N was not the conniving Slytherin he had imagined, he was not like Draco; an annoying rude rich boy, instead, he was a sweet and intelligent boy who simply wanted to succeed in his studies.

One evening, after a particularly successful brewing session, Y/N suggested they take a break and head to the courtyard.

"Harry, you know, not all Slytherins are as bad as people think," Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence.

Harry sighed, "I guess I had my prejudices. You've been different, though. Maybe I should give others a chance."

Y/N smiled, "I'm glad you feel that way. Friends can come from unexpected places, you know?"

Their friendship soon changed into something deeper as they spent more time together. Late-night conversations in the common room, shared laughter in the Great Hall, and stolen glances during classes slowly transformed into a love neither of them had anticipated.

One day, as they walked hand in hand around the Black Lake, Harry spoke from his heart, "I never thought I'd fall for a Slytherin, but I'm glad it's you, Y/N."

Y/N chuckled, "Funny how life works, isn't it? Love knows no house boundaries."

With that, Harry and Y/N shared a kiss while still holding hands, breaking all the stereotypes that said Gryffindoors and Slytherins hate each others.