#this . turned out alrighter than i expected maybe it's the quality

[clrasecretdiary]

Why does she give a damn about me? | Spencer Reid x Reader

cutesy, cheesy fluff

In wich Spencer thinks reader is out of his league but she could not be more into him.

Content: Garcia is a queen as always, sunshine!reader

Warnings: Maybe some light lack of self steem from spence, but nothing crazy!!

He was used to it at this point. Being the weird kid in high school and college, Spencer never really expected anyone to be into him and, after being rejected a couple of times, he had practically closed himself off in that sense. But then, you came into the picture.

You are one of those girls that everyone seemed to gravitate toward, not only because of your beauty but because of your essence. You were genuinely kind, smart and good with people in a way he wished he was, maybe that’s why he was so drawn to you, you had all the qualities he wished he had and being close to you made him feel complete.

Needless to say that he was in love with you, it had started as an admiration and when he realized he was thinking about you all the time, but he was sure you would never be into guys like him, he was sure you’d never see him as more than friends.

–

You had joined the team a few years ago, you were excited to finally be doing what you really wanted when you joined the BAU, going out in the field and being on cases instead of just working a desk job all the time. When you first met the team, everyone seemed very welcoming but you felt yourself especially drawn to Spencer out of all people, at first he seemed distant but with time you noticed how sweet he was and how much he cared for everyone around him and god that man was so funny, you loved his weird science jokes and his magic tricks. How were you supposed to not fall in love with him? You asked yourself that question every time he brought you coffee in the morning or went on his rambles about some random thing.

After a particularly intense inquiry from a very drunk Garcia in one of the girls' nights she organized at her home, you told her your feelings for Reid and she made you swear you would act on it.

“Garcia, I'm not confessing. He's not into me like that, i’ll just ruin our friendship”

“Oh honey, he practically kisses the floor you walk in, he follows you around the office like a lost puppy and practically kills any officer that dares to be the tiniest bit mean to you. There’s no way he’s not into you, at least try pretty please” She says, doing puppy eyes at you. Garcia took her job as a cupid very seriously and was not going to let this be her first fail.

“Alright, i’ll try but if he ends up hating me you’ll have to bake me cookies everyday until i die” You say rolling your eyes and finishing your glass of wine.

“Ohhh i’ll be cooking cookies for you guys wedding!”

–

So, here you are holding his favorite order from the local coffee shop and gathering the courage to press the button to the elevator

“Hey are you fine?” A familiar voice calls you, when you turn around its spencer.. Great, guess you’ll have to do this right now

“Oh hi yeah, I was just um… meditating”

“Did you know meditanting has been proven to increase your memory and is also great for reducing anxiety. I really should start doing it, what method do you use?” Spencer says while pressing the button to the elevator

“Ummm breath in, breath out i think” You say, unsure how to respond

“That's actually one of the best ways as it oxygenates your brain and helps it work better, it can also help you feel more calm since deep breathing activates the parasympathetic nervous system that sends a signal to your brain to tell the anxious part that you're safe and don't need to use the fight, flight response” He says, doing the little smile and head nod thing he always does after info dumping.

You smile back at him, as you both enter the elevator and press the button to the BAU floor.

“I brought you something” You say, handing him the coffee shop bag

He opens it and smiles at you “I can’t believe you remembered my favorites, thank you so much” You love that smile so much, all you can think about is how perfect he is and how there’s no way you can continue on without dating this man.

“Actually, I need to tell you something spence… I was thinking, maybe we could go out together as like, a date or something” You say, already blushing from the embarrassment you felt and how scared you were that he did not reciprocate the feelings.

“Really? Of course i want, to be honest i’ve wanted to ask you to be honest but i thought you’d never see me like that”

“Are you kidding me spencer? I’ve had a crush on you since we first meet”

The elevator gets to the office, and you both walk in blushing and joking about how you two were so blind to each other's feelings. As you get in, garcia passes by you two stopping to stare

“There’s something happening here…” She says, pointing between you two and pressing her eyes together as if she’s profiling you two

“I asked him out”

“Oh my god finally, you see? I’m always right, I don’t even need to ask what he said, look at Reid, he’s glowing, ohh i’m so happy” She says, walking out to probably tell the news to everyone on the team.

[tasteslikeblueberries]

LOST! by RM | 240524 still vers below ▼

[cottonlemonade]

Accidental Confession

word count: 1562 || avg. reading time: 7 mins.

pairing: rival!Kuroo x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff with smidgen of spice, enemies to lovers

warnings: mdni

request: fluffy-spicy, accidental confession with rival Kuroo, as manager

When you moved to Tokyo, you had your pick of schools. You could have gone to Fukurodani or even Itachiyama, the entrance exams to either was a joke, but after you visited a local volleyball tournament with your parents you decided on Nekoma. Their persistence, strategy and determined gameplay was hypnotizing and your fascination for the club was born. You wanted to be a part of the team, design tactics against individual opponents and fantasized about giving the decisive hint to lead them to victory. So imagine your disappointment, when you met the team in your first year and some bed-headed, cocky boy went at it with the libero. From what you gathered, the libero, Yaku, had badly defeated the other one, Kuroo, during a game in middle school and Kuroo had been salty ever since. Instead of trying to mediate you agreed with Yaku‘s arguments and took his side, turning Kuroo from a mildly annoying nuisance into the enemy.

On the other side, it took Kuroo two summers to realize that all his proverbial pigtail-pulling meant he was in love. The feeling hit him one afternoon as he lounged upside down on Kenma‘s bed, watching his friend defeat the latest boss in a video game. Kuroo’s mind began to wander to the previous week when Kenma had pointed out that he had mentioned you six times in as many minutes and the realization was so earth-shattering that he nearly slid to the floor.

When you met him again in the hallway on your first day back of third year, you were prepared for whatever lame comment would come your way. What you didn’t expect was him avoiding your eyes and hurrying around the corner. You squinted, a skeptical frown plastered on your face. As you walked past he was casually conversing with the water fountain. What was he playing at?

“Hey, demon spawn, do you have a minute?”

Yaku looked up from the cup ramen he was slurping in the convenience store and although a little miffed that his quality after school time was interrupted, he nodded to the empty seat next to him.

Kuroo plopped down and Yaku began twirling a new ball of noodles around his chopsticks, thinking nothing more than this would probably concern homework or volleyball.

There was no use to dance around the subject.

“Does y/n ever talk about me?“

The libero almost choked and Kuroo waited until he calmed down, not moving a muscle to help.

“With deepest hatred, yeah.“, Yaku eventually pressed out and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin.

“You sure?“

“Very sure.“

“Maybe it’s just a front for her real feelings because obviously she wouldn’t wanna tell you that she is madly in love with me and-“

“No no. She really really hates you.“

“But I’m so lovable...“, Kuroo pouted, earning a scoff from his fellow teammate.

“Why are you asking, anyway? You better not try pulling some dumb prank on her.” Yaku scowled.

“Me? Never. - I just… I was just wondering, that’s all.”

“That’s a really weird thing to wonder about.”

“Do you never have a self-absorbed day? Hahaha…” Kuroo laughed nervously and grabbed the still wrapped melon bread next to Yaku, opening the package and taking a large bite to muffle his still ongoing awkwardness.

“Hey!”

“Just doing you a favor. These aren’t good for you.”, Kuroo said wisely through a mouthful of pillowy bread and, swallowing laboriously, added, “Sorry, gotta go. Thanks for this.”

Unfortunately, the uselessly tall jerk was nimble in his movements and jumped up to rush out of the glass doors. Yaku was about to pounce but the convenience store clerk asked him for quiet and, apologizing over and over with deep bows, he went back to his ramen, groaning inwardly because the noodles had gotten soggy.

Alright. He had three options. Pine for the rest of his days, wear you down over time with his infinite charm or confess and run away before you could insult him. None of them really tickled his fancy and with his disadvantageous starting point of “deepest hatred” - as per Yaku - his chances were slim but there was nothing else for it.

“So…” Kuroo ignored your rolling eyes when you turned to him. It was after practice on a Friday and he figured if he confessed now he had all weekend to hide in case it would go south.

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Why?”

You eyed him suspiciously, standing there all tall and handsome in the utility room. He had just wheeled in the basket of volleyballs, subconsciously placing his hand on one of them for support. Hoping no one would bear witness to his almost certain failure he closed the door behind him. He did it gently so you didn’t think he was trapping you, but the gesture made you raise a brow nonetheless.

When he didn’t answer right away you snapped, “What’s it to you?”

You ducked your head a bit at your tone. The hostility was of course just a front for your real feelings because obviously you wouldn’t want to tell Yaku that you were madly in love with Kuroo and -

“I thought maybe you wanna grab a drink at the convenience store on the way home.”

He increased the pressure on the ball, tension running through his body and his heart throbbed loudly in his ears.

To his surprise you didn’t shoot him down immediately but just asked, “Who else is coming?”

“No one?”

“Why?”

“Be…cause I want to be alone with you?”

“Why?”

Abort, abort, abort!

“Because I like you?”, he offered and gave you a smile that may have been an attempt at “winning volleyball captain” but only reached “uncomfortable idiot” at best. He flinched when you started laughing, then, in his desperation to save face joined in, although robotically.

“That was a good one.”, you admitted.

“Yeah… definitely. Got you good…”, he said lamely, “Well it’s been great talking to you as always. Remember this was a joke. Not serious. At all! Definitely didn’t confess to you just now, okay? - Okay, cool. See ya bye!”

He spun on his heel, internally rolling his shoulders, ready for a sprint to get far away, and a moment later inspected the useless door handle in his hand. A loud clunk kindly let him know that the other side of the handle had broken off as well. Oh no.

“Kuroo, that’s not funny.”

“I agree.”, he said, much calmer than he felt, and raised his hand to knock on the metal door, “Hello?! Anyone?! Can someone open the door, please?! There are people stuck in here!”

You took out your phone and dialed Yaku’s number. But after ringing through to voicemail twice, you sent him a text. “They’re all probably already in the shower.”, you said, “Mori will get the text eventually and come to help.”

“Did you tell him you’re in here with me? Cause that might delay his response time.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well he wouldn’t really rush to help me, wouldn’t he?”

You crossed your arms and, adding an exasperated sigh, said, “You know, you guys are so childish. Why can’t you just get along?”

“We’re childish?”, he asked with mocking disbelief, “We are not the ones who hate on the incredibly charming, suave, level-headed captain for no reason.”

Being met with silence he added quietly, “Too much?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t hate you so much if you weren’t so damn kissable. It’s annoying.”, you muttered.

“What?”

“I said, you’re annoying!”

“And the part before that?”

“Didn’t say anything before that. You’re hearing things, grandpa.”

“Nooo, I definitely heard the word kissable.”

“Aww, going senile?”

“Hey, listen! You’re no different, okay?! If you weren’t so god damn cute all the time I wouldn’t have to ask for notes on lessons so often! You’re freaking distracting!”

You squared your shoulders, your body turning warm from embarrassment and, because you didn’t know what else to feel, completely unfounded offense.

“Oh, you think it’s easy for me?! With that stupidly great hair you’re always sporting?! And don’t even get me started on your voice! Makes me wanna drag you into an empty classroom!”

“What about your fruity lipgloss, huh?! You’re just asking me to stare!”

“And your biceps?!”

“And your hips?!”

“Your dumb weirdly hot smile?!”

“Why are we yelling nice stuff?!”

“Because I like you, too, you idiot!”

A moment’s pause draped itself between you, only disturbed by the breathless panting on either side.

“Yeah?”, he said finally, “Prove it.”

You unceremoniously closed the distance between you and pushed him back against the metal door, standing on tiptoes and grabbing the front of his jersey for good measure. The coward eventually unfroze and gripped your pudgy waist to pull you closer. His hands were everywhere and you gasped when he squeezed your ass, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. When you needed to come up for air he instead opted for dipping his head lower, kissing your neck, obviously determined to leave a hickey if he continued as he did. And you were very much about to let him when the door opened and both of you tumbled out. Kuroo made sure to cushion your fall, holding you safely in his arms when you landed on top of him and looked up to meet the utterly disgusted grimace of Yaku.

a/n: I got three accidental confession requests for Kuroo in slightly different variations xD so I decided to kind of mash them all together. For a purely fluffy non-manager option I have A Chaotic Confession if you’d like to check it out ^^ thank you so much to the three anons who requested this prompt. I hope you enjoyed it 🌟 (special thanks to @haikyu-mp4 for helping me out of a corner with this one!)

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Jamil Viper - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Main Street]

Jamil: Hmm, the width of this street is much narrower than I thought… If it were to turn the corner here…

Ortho: Jamil Viper-san! What are you doing here of all places? The afternoon classes will begin soon.

Jamil: Ortho… Maybe you could hear me out.

Ortho: Th-That's a pretty serious look you got going on… Sure. If you're alright with it, I can listen to what you have to say…

Jamil: So, tomorrow is my birthday…

Ortho: Huh, your birthday!? Happy Birthday!

Jamil: Thanks. I'm happy to celebrate it, but because of it, I'm in a bit of a conundrum.

Jamil: Well... It seems that Kalim has been plotting something for my birthday.

Ortho: Eh, plotting something? Is he planning something ominous…!?

Jamil: So, after coaxing hints out of him, and gathering more info from other folks around me, I finally was able to piece together his plan.

Jamil: Apparently, he's been planning alongside my dormmates on throwing a birthday parade in my honor down main street.

Ortho: Oh, nice, that sounds fun. Isn't it a good thing that he wants to throw a parade?

Jamil: Seriously… Do you even get how expensive parades can be, not to mention the difficulties of pulling one of successfully?

Jamil: I was so worried about it, I stole a glance at their plans, and just as I expected, it's not well thought out at all.

Jamil: If, somehow, it was to be a disaster and he says, "let's try again tomorrow!" it could further inflate the costs and labor.

Jamil: Plus, I'm not supposed to know about it, so I can't stop it. If I try to run interference, they might try something else which would also be just as bad…!

Jamil: That's why I thought about what could be done to successfully pull this off quick and painlessly, while minimizing any damage Kalim and the others could do...

Jamil: Which is why I am now secretly examining the proposed parade route prior to the event.

Ortho: Eh. So, you're telling me that you're basically doing the prep work for your own parade…?

Jamil: Don't remind me… I'm feeling pretty embarrassed by it already…

Ortho: B-But hey, you're still excited for your birthday, right? Especially since it's your special day!

Jamil: ….Yeah, I guess it's okay. It's a day where I don't have to stress about so many things.

Ortho: Oh, hey, so, what about if you try to surprise everyone else during the parade instead?

Ortho: Maybe you could shoot off fireworks at the front of the parade, or try summoning something via magic!

Jamil: I see… I mean, it is pretty irritating to always be on the receiving end of surprises. Might not be bad to see their shocked faces.

Jamil: Thanks, Ortho. I'll think about it.

[Scarabia Dorm – Lounge]

Jamil: Alright, now. I think I'll put together my lunch for tomorrow before taking a shower… Hm? Oh, what are you guys still here for?

[Scarabia mob students stand there awkwardly]

Jamil: Eh, nothing? Don't worry about it? What's that plate you just tried to hi… No, nevermind.

Jamil: I know nothing. That's right, I know nothing… So, please… Please let things go as planned…!

Jamil: …Whew. Tomorrow's a busy day, so I guess I'll finish up what needs to be done, too.

[Scarabia Dorm – Jamil's Room]

Jamil: Ah, whew. Today was another full day…

[Scarabia Dorm – Jamil's Room]

[Jamil's roommate greets him]

Jamil: I'm back. …Yeah, that's right. There were so many people in the washroom that it took forever to take a shower.

Jamil: You were done pretty quickly, though… Oh, are you actually studying for once?

Jamil: What, because you're going to be busy tomorrow? Oh, so you're saying you're not studying because you want to… Nah, don't mind me, doesn't matter the reason, better you go ahead and do it.

[paper slips to the ground]

Jamil: Hey, you dropped something… Oh, right, the Headmaster did send out a notice earlier.

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Jamil: Quality of life improvements, huh. Then they should start with making the shower rooms bigge… Achoo!

Jamil: That's no good. I should dry my hair quickly before I catch a cold.

Jamil: Oh, I almost forgot, I received some hair milk from Najma for my birthday. I should apply some before drying.

Jamil: Urgh, the scent's pretty strong. What is this scent…? Lotus flowers? Oh, she should know this is way too fragrant for me!

Jamil: Is she just trying to mess with me even for my birthday? No, wait, she's more the type to have not put that much thought into it.

Jamil: I'll make sure to at least thank her… Before going back to my usual oils from tomorrow... Hey, I'm going to use the dryer.

Jamil: I can't really take my time drying my hair in the shared washroom. Especially since I require a lot more time…

[starts blow-drying hair]

Jamil: …Improvements, huh. Now that I think about it, I guess it could be useful to have a large standing mirror in the room.

Jamil: Whenever I'm setting my hair in the morning, it's pretty inconvenient that I can't see the back of my head. What I'd really like is a three-sided mirror.

Jamil: If I had known there wouldn't be one in these rooms, I probably would have brought one. Or maybe, I should write and request one.

Jamil: …Nah, it'll just get in my roommate's way. And I wouldn't want it to be used without permission… I dislike having to share my personal items.

Jamil: If I were to try and request some kind of new implement for the room, I think it'd have to be…

Jamil: A COMMERCIAL-GRADE REFRIGERATOR!!!

Jamil: That's exactly what I need! Ah, yes… It would be insanely convenient to have a refrigerator in my room!

Jamil: Sure, there is a fridge in the dorm kitchens, but it is a little too far from my room. Like, the last time I made ice cream…

Jamil: I'd have to wake up in the middle of the night and make countless trips back and forth to the kitchen to stir it. That was frustrating, especially since I was sleepy, and it's a good distance away.

Jamil: It'd be better if I had one in my room. And then I might as well also get a wide sink, stove and oven too…

Jamil: …Wait, that's basically a whole kitchen, huh? I guess it's not really something you'd put in a bedroom.

[finishes blow-drying hair]

Jamil: Alright, it's mostly dry now. I'll just apply some oil, and… done.

Jamil: Hey. Sorry for all the noise again today… WAIT, HUH, HE'S ALREADY ASLEEP EVEN THROUGH THE LOUD HAIR DRYER NOISE!?

Jamil: Geez, he doesn't have a care in the world, huh. I almost feel kind of jealous.

Jamil: Alright, then. Time to look over my notes and prepare for tomorrow, then go to sleep.

[Scarabia Dorm – Jamil's Room]

[alarm rings]

Jamil: Hrn… It's morning already… Yaaawn.

Jamil: I'm still sleepy… But there shouldn't be a crowd in the bathroom this early… I should go wash my face while it's empty…

Jamil: Whew. I feel more refreshed now that I've washed my face… I really do like it in the mornings, since no one else is around.

Jamil: Looks like my roommate is still sleeping, so I'll just go ahead and quickly finish up my appearance for today.

Jamil: I guess I'll start with my makeup. Hm… Yeah, I think I'll just go with my usual palette.

Jamil: First, my sunscreen and colored lip balm. And I'll need eyeliner… Ah, looks like it's almost gone.

Jamil: I still have some spares, but I'll have to make sure to buy some extra.

Jamil: It was a little frustrating when the last eyeliner I would always use took off on Magicam and became hard to find.

Jamil: It's annoying when you can't even keep using the cosmetics you like because they go out of stock.

Jamil: I'd rather they keep a consistent stock of their standard products, instead of trying to come out with new colors each season.

Jamil: I'll have to look for some other brands next time, something that's water proof, and won't come off even if I sweat from running or cooking.

Jamil: …Alright, I'm done. Next, I just need to set my hair.

Jamil: First, I'll take my hair oil and rub it into the ends of my hair to moisturize it… Good. Just from first glance, it doesn't look like there's any damaged strands.

Jamil: It's nice that ever since I've grown out my hair, I don't wake up to bed head, but… I never expected to have to spend this much time taking care of it.

Jamil: Letting it grow out may be easy to do, but it wouldn't do to let it go wild. Grooming it well should be the bare minimum of etiquette.

Jamil: Especially since I don't want to be seen as unsightly…. I'll just finish the braids with magic… And, done.

Jamil: …I've set it as perfectly as I normally do, but since today's my birthday, maybe I should try to spruce myself up just a little more than usual?

Jamil: Today should be a pretty long day, so I think I'll use a stronger eyeliner… Might not be bad to add a splash of color, too.

Jamil: Not only do I have the dorm party, but my clubmates have also reached out, and I promised to get together with my classmates, as well.

Jamil: …Ah, well. Looks like today is going to be one busy day. Heheh.

[Main Street]

[birthday celebration cheers]

Ortho: Ah, I spy Jamil Viper-san! Looks like he's having fun celebrating with everyone.

Ortho: Heheh… He was griping a lot yesterday, but he definitely seems like he's enjoying himself. He looks so happy!

Ortho: Hey, Jamil Viper-san! I'm here to celebrate, too. Happy Birthday!

Jamil: Hey, Ortho! You came all this way to join the celebration, too? Thanks, everyone.

Requested by @farfalla049.

[talesofesther]

until one of us caves

Rolan x Reader

Summary: After fighting Lorroakan, you decide to stay with Rolan.

A/N: I know that like maybe three people are gonna read this but I couldn't care less. The more I learned about Rolan's story, the bigger of a soft spot I got, and this little thought wouldn't leave my head so I had to write this down. Nothing serious, just something I wish I could do in the game. Also, this story kinda drifted a little from the original plan about halfway through and started writing itself, so don't blame me if the quality is dubious lmao. Requests for him are open I guess, if anyone's interested.

Word count: 3k

Masterlist

The scent of smoke and ash hung in the air. Stones and mud, remains of the elementals, littered the floor of Ramazith's Tower; as well as a few burned books here and there, smashed furniture, and splatters of blood in the marble. It would take a while to get the place back to the glory it could hold, but you figured it was doable.

The body of its previous master lay lifeless on the floor, spine broken, skin torn. You held no pity for him, only resentment.

From the corner of your eyes, you could spot a twitching tail and clenched fists, staring blankly at the body of his tormentor. He said nothing, merely huffed and walked away before you could think of saying anything, your gaze followed his steps.

The time between when you'd first set foot in Sorcerous Sundries and now had gone by in a haze. You had stopped dead in your tracks then, breath hitching as you caught sight of the countless bruises on Rolan's skin, and an overwhelming sense of protectiveness took over you. You'd walked up to him, the words "Who did this to you?" were stumbling past your lips before he even had the chance to utter the practiced greeting. Rolan had evaded the matter, as you'd expected, building ever higher walls around himself. And you'd surprised yourself with how restless the sight of him had made you feel.

"Soldier?" Karlach's hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present, making you quickly turn your head back to her.

You blinked several times until your eyes regained their focus; "yeah?"

She gave you a halfhearted smile and you wondered just how much your turmoil showed on your face. "I was just asking if you're alright, and… where do we go from here." Her voice held kindness to it, as it usually did. More often than not Karlach was, surprisingly, a calming balm in your hectic days.

"Uh-" you hesitated. Perhaps you should already be used to being the one people turned to in search of guidance, leadership. But it was a title you'd never really asked for, was it?

"You guys should go ahead, dispose of him somewhere," you gestured to Lorroakan's lifeless form, "before anyone walks in on… all of this."

Karlach nodded along and then raised a brow at you. "And what of you?" She asked, yet there was a smirk on her lips that alluded to the fact that she already knew the answer.

"I'll hang back." Your cheeks warmed up, "I'll meet you guys at Elfsong later."

"Take your time, soldier," Karlach winked at you, then turned to hurl the dead Wizard's body over her shoulder. "Right let's go people, nothing left to see here."

"And how exactly do you intend to walk around the city with that?" Shadowheart asked exasperatedly, yet followed Karlach to the swirling portal nonetheless.

The tiefling shrugged, holding Lorroakan's body with one arm, "I don't know. If anyone asks we'll just say he's drunk or something."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Oh, I want to see that."

Shadowheart and Astarion added simultaneously, one rolling her eyes and the other smiling brightly.

"Alright then, you think of some excuse for-"

You chuckled at the banter of your companions, their voices growing distant as they disappeared through the portal that would take them back to the bustle of Sorcerous Sundries.

With a deep breath in and a long exhale out, you turned around, gaze slowly roaming over the empty expanse of the luxurious tower; now so quiet, bordering on serene, save for the damage the battle left behind. Until you finally spotted the one you were looking for.

Rolan was tucked away in a shadowy corner, head bowed as he stacked a few fallen books on his hands and then beside each other on the shelves. His movements all stiff and slow, as if the books were much too heavy and it hurt to carry them.

The worry twirling in your stomach threatened to escape as you took careful steps towards him. Yet you still weren't sure how to approach him. The tower suddenly held a nearly intimate air. It was delicate, fragile. The lines between you and him had started to blur, you couldn't pinpoint when, but they did; and now, in the privacy of the high tower, you started to feel the weight of it.

You cleared your throat, but the tiefling didn't turn to look at you, though his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. You wondered if he knew you'd stayed, or perhaps hoped you would.

"Rolan… would you like some help with organizing things a little? At least for the night?" You tried, unsure what else you could possibly say and biting back the urge to tell him that he looked like he needed a good night's rest. He wouldn't admit it, you knew; but the fight had taken a huge toll on his already bruised body. He looked utterly exhausted; shoulders slumped, tail laying limply on the floor, barely holding himself together.

He turned his head to glance at you, an unreadable expression on his face, and lips hovering with uncertainty for a moment. "No, I can manage…" Rolan's voice was quiet, his features softly highlighted by the last fading rays of sunshine coming through the tall windows. You could see the bruises on his cheek, jaw, and nose—some new, some old; darker shades blooming on his reddish skin.

"You can go," he turned away again.

"Are you… sure?" You took half a step forward, fidgeting with your own hands. You didn't feel like leaving him just yet.

"Yes. I'm sure." He finally faced you fully in a quick motion, eyebrows slightly furrowed, "I'm not a helpless child, I can at least take care of organizing this mess by myself, if nothing else."

You closed your eyes momentarily at his words, "That's- that's not what I meant, I know you can-"

"What is it you want then? That I thank you for saving my sorry ass? Again?" His tone held bite to it, anger even, yet you had a feeling that it wasn't directed at you, but at himself. With a huff, he threw aside the one book he still held in his hands, "Okay then, thank you, your heroic attitude of the day has been achieved." He gestured toward you, speaking as if he had been just another thing to check off your list.

The movement of his mouth had pried open a fresh cut he had on his lip. Rolan didn't seem to notice, but the small sliver of blood glinted in the low light. Your heart ached, but not for his words, they were mostly empty. It ached because you saw how much he was hurting. That defeated look lingered in his golden eyes, the same you'd seen at Last Light Inn when he had been incapable of rescuing his siblings. You wished you could tell him he was enough. You wished he would believe you.

You took in a steadying breath, holding onto your composure for both of your sakes. "It's not about being a hero, Rolan, it's about helping the people I care about."

Another scoff fell past his lips, he avoided your eyes, looking distantly out the window beside him; "What are you doing here then?"

You merely raised an eyebrow at him, features soft, allowing him to believe in whatever he wanted to believe.

His throat worked through a heavy gulp when he glanced at you again, tail swishing behind him as he took half a step back. "Sod off," the words came out heavy and unstable, "You came here because Lorroakan was after your Aasimar friend… Your job is done now, you can leave." He stormed past you then, quick steps taking him to the other side of the tower.

With a roll of your eyes, you followed after him, "I came here because I care about you, too." You tried to convey as much sincerity in your words as you could, staring intently at his back as he raised a fallen chair. You caught a glimpse of his tail, coiled tightly around his own leg. You wondered if he even realizes he's doing it, if it's some kind of self-soothing habit he's learned over the years.

His hair had been undone, too, falling freely over his shoulders and looking a tad longer than what you were used to. The look suited him—a touch of softness in his usually sharp appearance—in the back of your mind you promised yourself to tell him that someday.

Several beats of silence went by. With Rolan holding tightly onto the back of the wooden chair. You tended to be annoyingly insistent, the tiefling thought to himself. Ever since the first time he met you, you had a habit of refusing to give up on people. On him. Rolan tried to tell himself it didn't get to him, that the butterflies in his stomach, and the overwhelming relief your mere presence brought him meant absolutely nothing. Because of course, you wouldn't look twice at someone like him, would you?

It was ironically sad that his heart would choose you—the hero, his hero—of all people, to have a soft spot for. He could never measure up, not really, and he knew that; told himself that very fact over and over whenever his mind dared to hope with what-ifs.

"You don't mean that," his voice was small and he berated himself for allowing it to be. He closed his eyes tightly, knuckles growing white with his grip on the chair. "And I was fine," Rolan emphasized the words yet he didn't know anymore if he was trying to convince you or himself.

Silence engulfed the tower again. Deafening silence. One sharp claw tapped the back of the wooden chair, a fast rhythm, following the heartbeat thundering through his veins. With a defeated sigh, Rolan turned to face you. Still, he refused to meet your eyes, focusing instead on the fabric of your glove wrapped around your hand; he could see faint scars on your fingers, wondered how you got them.

"Were you, really?" You asked then, softly, near desperately; waiting with bated breath for him to just look at you.

Rolan was a little difficult to get to, had been since you first met him. Part of you rather enjoyed your harmless bickering every now and then. Behind the witty words, there had always been hidden smiles and bashful eyes, the hopeful glint of being in each other's presence, if briefly.

Alas, you weren't exactly entitled to pry or demand, much as you cared for him it wasn't your place, so you relented; "Tell me you're alright, truly alright, and I'll leave if that's what you want so bad."

Rolan hesitated for a heartbeat, and then two, and three. Any words he might want to say were stuck in his throat, tangled in between feelings that confused the hells out of him. How could he ever tell you that he's not alright? That he hasn't been for a long time?

How could he tell you that he doesn't want you to leave, ever?

There was a distant stinging behind his eyes and he hated himself for it, for being so needy and vulnerable. He hated how his palms were sweaty and his heart threatened to break free of his ribcage with the speed it was beating. He hated how his knees seemed on the brink of collapsing with his weight. He hated how he suddenly felt all the bruises in his body hurting so badly, as if only now he allowed himself to feel the pain they inflicted. He hated-

A soft touch on his lower lip halted Rolan's spiraling thoughts abruptly, and his breath. With the sleeve of your robe, movement as light as a feather, you cleaned a sliver of blood that had escaped the fresh cut there. Rolan shuddered under your touch, for like a breath of fresh air after nearly drowning to death, that was all he could feel.

Pointy teeth dug into the inside of his cheek, holding back what would only be a flood of embarrassment for him if he allowed his pestering emotions to spill. His throat closed up tight, vision growing hazy until you were nothing but a blur in front of him.

There was something about the way you touched him oh so tenderly that got his walls tumbling down as if they were paper under the rain. Your hand lingered, refusing to part from him. Your fingers trailed a hesitant path to his cheek, mapping the bruises underneath- no, mapping his skin, him.

And he could crumble. Rolan felt himself falling, falling, falling.

When was the last time he felt a kind touch? one that didn't hurt or sting or threatened? He couldn't recall.

"I do mean it, I care about you, Rolan." You promised him, and only him. Whispered words dripping with affection.

The front of your boots hit his shoes as you took a final step closer. Rolan brought one hand up, his fingers closing around your wrist with urgency. Yet his hold was gentle, pressing into the veins there and feeling your pulse running beneath his fingertips. He held you there, all but begging you to stay. Words were difficult, complicated, and messy; hopefully his soul could tell you what he couldn't.

With your heart in your mouth, you mumbled; "it's okay. It's over." You're not sure if he heard or felt the words, but Rolan dipped his head forward until his forehead bumped yours.

Suddenly close wasn't close enough. You wanted to kiss away his tears, his bruises, his pain; promise him that everything would be alright now even if your own life was a sea of uncertainty.

"Why?" It fell past his lips. Such a genuine question uttered with such a small voice that it hurt you like a dagger to the heart.

"Why do these things happen to me?" Rolan's voice cracked and stumbled, his eyebrows briefly furrowed in a mix of anger and sorrow. "I-" he breathed in deep and unsteady, bright eyes welling with unshed tears that shone brightly under the soft candlelights on the walls.

You gulped back your own heartache, struggling to keep to yourself how soft he made you feel. You slowly raised your other hand to push fallen strands of hair behind his ear.

"I hoped it had a purpose," he admitted then, quiet as breath. His lower lip quivered before he spoke again, closing his eyes and leaning timidly towards your touch. "That it was a test, and he would- he would eventually stop. That I just needed to endure a while longer."

A choked sob stumbled past his lips and you felt the first of his tears landing on your thumb. Rolan shook his head, a self-deprecating scoff falling past his lips; "that I deserved it."

"Stop," you said before you could think, finally taking your hand away from his cheek, only to bury it into his hair instead. With the encouragement you knew he needed, you pulled him to you.

Rolan fell forward with no restraints, no hesitations, only a weary soul looking for solace. He buried his head between your neck and shoulder, both arms coming around your waist and squeezing tightly, to the point of his claws nearly ripping your robe.

You held him back with the same desperation, one hand tangling in between his hair and cradling his head to you. Your lips brushed the nape of his neck in a silent confession of adoration.

The fabric of your robe grew damp as silent tears fell past Rolan's defenses, his body shaking in your hold, releasing months if not years of bottled-up emotions.

With a kiss to his warm skin, embers of the fire he ignited in your heart broke free; "You could never deserve what he did to you. You're so very special, Rolan. To Cal, To Lia…" You told him, slow and tender, twirling strands of his hair between your fingers, and a small smile stretched your lips when you felt him relaxing against you. "… To me." It was nothing but a whisper, blown into the wind only for him to hear.

Rolan's breath stumbled, you felt it in the way he gripped you tighter—if that was even possible—and heard it in the soft gasp beside your ear.

"Please don't-" His voice broke in the middle, all husky and wobbly from his tears. "Don't say… that. If you don't mean-" he hesitated, fresh tears cascading freely down his cheeks, beyond any foolish attempt to be held back; they dripped down the bridge of his nose and soaked the fabric of your robe, making him curl into you all the more to hide his embarrassment from the outside world.

"Please," it was so quiet as he pleaded. For what, he wasn't entirely sure anymore. Maybe he just knew he couldn't take losing anything else.

You pulled back and Rolan felt his heart stumbling and cracking in his chest. But you were quick to mend it back together, with both hands coming up to hold his cheeks again, your thumbs brushing away the wetness there, near reverently.

"I promise," you whispered, gaze drifting ever so slightly downward before focusing back on his bright eyes. You were bold enough to lean in until the tip of your nose touched his, and as you did so you felt something coiling around your leg. You smiled; "I promise."

Rolan gulped, his mouth parting as he barely held himself back from closing the gap between you. Goosebumps littered his whole body when his upper lip accidentally brushed yours.

He pulled away but refused to loosen his grip on your waist. "I don't want you to leave," he said it so quietly, offering you his bleeding heart with a shaking hand.

Gentle fingers brushed away the messy strands of hair clinging to his forehead. When Rolan looked up, there was a loving smile on your lips, it was the first time he saw it and he already knew he'd kill to see it again.

You leaned closer, and with a kiss between his brows, you said; "then I'll stay."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Rolan’s taglist: @milkiane@v1ci0us

[tightjeansjavi]

The Rite of Movement | drabble

“Teacher Tommy”

written deliciously by @tightjeansjavi & @itsokbbygrl 💗🤭 LJ lost her smut v-card last night, and it calls for a celebration!

~word count: 7.0k~ (we…yeah 🥵)

Summary: Tommy teaches you how to properly eat pussy

Pairing | pornstar!tommy miller x f!readers (two unnamed female characters written in 3rd POV)

Warnings: NSFW, smut, amateur porn film, one mention of degrading language (purity culture) soft!dom Tommy, threesome, mff/wlw, oral (f receiving), pussy worship, unprotected piv, bush love, consent, sex positive environment, brief mention of Tommy’s sexuality (and a sprinkle of Joel’s) dirty talk, teasing, one mention of hair (unspecified length/no details) no other physical description of the readers, unspecified age gap (legal) +18 minors dni! (Let me know if I missed anything!)

series masterlist

Unlike his brother Joel, who meticulously crafts his films and is stubborn as an ox, Tommy’s signature filming style revolves around spontaneity—spur of the moment changes to scripts and impromptu dialogue, creating a care-free and very, very fun set environment where his actors feel empowered to follow their instincts. Tommy isn’t too keen on having the perfect mood lighting or props to add to the ambiance. He likes amateur-style, low quality camera shots and iPhone POV’s from his partners. While Joel is truly making adult-film art, Tommy unabashedly loves making porn.

And Tommy’s girls are first and foremost, sexy. That’s not at all to do with their looks, although if you asked him, they’re all 10 out of 10 knockouts in their unique ways. No, to Tommy it’s all about confidence. A woman who knows what she wants and goes for it, no care for the names society might call her. Slut. Whore. Harlot. Jezebel. There is nothing in the world sexier than a sexually liberated woman, and Tommy has made it his literal job to show the world that.

Tommy checks the time on his phone’s lock screen and heads over to the studio. He’s scheduled to supervise and direct a scene between a couple of their female actresses. A younger looking couple, it’ll be listed as a first-time experience–horny best friends who are experimenting with each other for the first time, hopefully catching the budding chemistry between two women who already love each other one way turning into a simmering heat that leads to sexy fun. Tommy recalls some of his early days experimenting himself, that feeling of excitement at trying something new, learning how to make another person’s body sing like he knows his own, and he knows exactly how he’s going to help them bring that energy to set.

One of Tommy’s actresses is fairly experienced in the art of women loving women porn, but the second is a greenie and it’s evident that she’s feeling nervous and self conscious even before the filming begins.

“Hey, Tommy? Maybe instead of you just filming, you show her how to eat pussy? Make it a teaching moment?” His experienced partner suggests as she takes a sip from her water bottle.

Tommy mulls over the idea for a moment. He wasn’t planning on being in the scene today, but if the day called for it, he could jump in; expecting it from time to time with his line of work where he had to be ready for just about anything. “Think you’re onto somethin’ there.” He grins.

He makes his way over to his second partner who is sitting off to the side, aimlessly scrolling on her phone. Tommy notices her slightly trembling fingers and tense shoulders, clearly anxious. Well, that just won’t do.

“Hey doll, y’got a minute?” He asks softly.

She tenses for a second before looking up at him with a practiced pleasant smile. Fuck.

“Yeah, of course! What’s up?” she starts. When Tommy doesn’t speak right away, she sighs and continues, looking back at the phone limply held in her hands, “Look, I understand if you think that I’m maybe not the right fit for this scene. I’ve never—”

He interjects with a reassuring smile. “Hey, none of that, alright? I’m not kickin’ ya offset if that’s what you’re thinking.” He winks to ease her nerves. “Was actually gonna suggest that we make a change, put me in the scene with ya. Y’know, showin’ you the ropes on how to properly eat pussy. How’s that sound, doll?”

She looks at him as if he has suddenly sprouted five heads and her lips part in shock. “Wait, you want to like..teach me? Holy—I mean, I’m good with it if you both are?”

“Course, doll. I’ll teach ya, and then by the end of it, you’ll be a pussy eatin’ pro!” He laughs. “It was actually her idea to have me teach you. We both know you’re a greenie, and we want you to be comfortable, okay?”

“Well, thank you. I appreciate it. I honestly was dreading coming in for this today when you told me what the premise of the scene would be.” She visibly relaxes and then barks a laugh after a second, hand flying up to cover her mouth. Amused, Tommy prompts her to share her thoughts. “What if we titled it “Teacher Tommy?” she suggests with a small grin.

“Well, if that’s the case,” he leaned in close, “class is in session.”

With everyone on the same page, Tommy double checks to make sure everything is ready to begin filming. He sets the lower quality digital camcorder he thrifted from a local camera shop up on the small table stationed next to the middle of the bed and turns on the attached light, bathing the three of them in a soft white glow that barely extends to the other side of the bed. Low quality resolution is a favorite stylistic choice of Tommy’s, loving the way it adds to the feeling of realism and spontaneity in his films, as if none of this was planned–they just pulled out the camera in the heat of the moment, wanting to cement the memory in history.

He moves to the far corner of the room where he has his phone sitting on an armchair next to a small speaker. He picks it up and opens his Spotify app, turning towards his partners.

“Hey girls, what sounds good? What’s the vibe?”

“Can I see your phone?” his scene partner asks.

“Yeah, baby, of course. Here you go,” he hands her the unlocked phone. She types for a minute and scrolls, finding what she was looking for and hands the phone back to Tommy. He gives the playlist a quick preview. “This will work,” he smirks.

He puts the phone back in its previous place and turns on the speaker, making sure it’s correctly linked to the input of the separate audio recording device so he can mute this particular track while editing the video, and presses play. He learned the hard way that not all background music is equal after they received a cease and desist letter from Universal Music Group for copyright infringement on one of their first videos produced at Miller-Co. Joel was less than pleased about that one, giving Tommy a tongue lashing about professionalism and an angry, “This is why we plan ahead, Tommy!” Since then he’s learned how to create a vibe in the studio conducive to generating the right feelings and reactions in his scene partners while simultaneously protecting their company’s assets. Tommy Miller is nothing if not a practiced multitasker.

“Everyone still ready to go?” Tommy checks in one final time, making sure he has enthusiastic “yeses” from his partners before he starts the camcorder and sits on the bed, starting the scene.

Tommy sits on the bed, the girls following the loose script they’d prepared. They giggle, one of them reaching over and grabbing the hem of Tommy’s cotton t-shirt, looking into his eyes and waiting for his nod before tugging it up over his head, Tommy raising his arms to assist with its removal. The light catches the peaks and valleys of his obliques as he moves. He leans forward, smiling, and reaches out a hand to cup her face and pull her into him for a heated kiss. He makes sure to angle her face with the hand on her jaw so the camera catches the way their tongues dance together while he uses his other hand to move to the waist of her denim shorts.

“Let’s take these off, sugar. Get you a little more comfy,” he drawls, looking her down and back up, meeting her eyes, then dipping to her spit slick, plush lips. She nods, utters a soft yeah, please in response. His fingers trace along the edge of the waistband until they get to the button, pushing it with his thumb through the hole, using his remaining fingers to pull the tab forward, and then pulls the zip down slowly, letting the tension build.

With the extra space, Tommy reaches inside her shorts, cupping his hand over her clothed sex and pressing up with his palm, giving her some friction. She lets out a soft whine. He smiles, atta girl. She pushes the shorts down her thighs and kicks them off with her feet. Now partially exposed, he spreads her thighs, making sure the camera can see his ministrations as he strokes his fingers over her panties, teasing. Her mouth drops open and head drops down, chin to chest, watching where he touches.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it, baby?” He asks and she nods in response. He tips her chin back up with his unoccupied forefinger and leaves another kiss on her mouth before he turns to their other partner, never stopping the teasing ministrations of his occupied hand.

“C’mere, doll. Lemme see you.” He removes his hand from his first partner’s mound, wet patch visible through her cotton panties where he’s pressed them into her cunt, splitting her lips, showing off the shape of her even through the material, and moves it to the collar of his second partner’s blouse. He attaches his lips to the underside of her jaw and nips, soothing the bite with his lips and tongue while his fingers deftly unbutton her shirt, pushing it gently from her shoulders, bare breasts exposed to the cool air of the room around her. She lets it slip off her arms and tangles her fingers in his thick, dark curls, anchoring him to her. He kisses from the spot along her jawline until he meets her mouth and she’s hungry for it, eating at his mouth with her own. He groans at her forwardness, this is his favorite part, he thinks.

Eventually he pulls back, taking a moment to admire her newly exposed skin. He leans forward, taking nearly the whole of one breast into his big hand, and brings it to his mouth, humming as he suckles at her, lathes his tongue over her peaked nipple. She throws her head back and moans. He allows himself one final deep suck before he pulls off with an audible, “pop.” He kisses up her chest, runs the tip of his tongue over the front of her neck, up and over her chin, over her parted lips, and leaves a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. The contrast makes her laugh, and the sound sets him and their other partner off in tandem, the sound tinkling through the room, and easing them into the next moment.

He turns and finds their other partner has removed her top while they were occupied, now only clothed in her damp panties and little socks. He shucks his pants and briefs, and the girls share a heated look before moving together. Tommy makes room, allowing them to explore each other for a moment while he reaches down and palms his half hard cock. They finish undressing each other as they kiss, hands roaming over torsos, before the first girl lets one hand drift lower, reaching the wet center of her partner, and she slides her middle finger through the glistening slick, gathering some before bringing it to her mouth, making eye contact and sucking it deep into her mouth, groaning at the tangy flavor that bursts on her tongue.

“Yum,” she says playfully, and they giggle. Tommy joins in, smiling, loving watching them have fun. This is what this is all about, he thinks, cock now fully hard in his grip, thumb gently stroking over his head, smearing the precum there, creating a sticky mess.

He rejoins them. “She taste nice, sweetheart?” He asks, tracing his fingers down her chest, her stomach, watching the muscles in her abdomen twitch and clench at the sensation. He looks up and sees her nodding. He grins back, fingers lightly playing with the soft curls at the top of her sex. “Should we compare?” He presses his fingers down, sliding between her lips, a quiet, “Shit,” leaving his mouth unbidden at the sensation of feeling her once dampness now fully blossomed into wet. He drags two fingers insistently through her, running from her hole to just below her clit and back, building her pleasure slowly. He pulls his fingers back, spreads them, lets the sticky mess of her stretch into clear strings between them, and he whistles lowly at the sight. “Ain’t that pretty,” he says, and then he brings them up to her mouth, resting lightly on her lower lip. “Open up, sugar, give yourself a taste.” She obeys, sucking his fingers into her mouth, winding her tongue around and between them, closing her eyes as she suckles, cleaning him fully before releasing them with a pop. “So, what’s the verdict?”

“Hmm,” she thinks on it playfully, tapping her fingers to her chin in mock deep thought. “I think I taste pretty good. Want a taste?” She asks, turning between both of her bed partners searching for a response.

Tommy, as pre-planned, turns and finds the greener of the two women fidgeting with her fingers in her lap. He chimes in, directing his response at her instead, “I’m up to share if you are?”

She raises her head and meets his eyes, her gaze full of trepidation and excitement in equal measure. Good actress, Tommy thinks. She speaks then, softly replying, “I’ve…um, I’ve never..” and gestures to their partners exposed, glistening cunt.

“You’ve never eaten pussy before, baby?” He asks her gently and she shakes her head, dropping eye contact. He reaches up, pushes his fingers through her hair as a comforting point of contact, strokes over the shell of her ear with his thumb, before resting his palm on the side of her neck. “That’s just fine, sweetheart. You wanna learn?” She perks up at the line, eyes alight with the possibility. She nods shyly and Tommy gives her a real smile then, easing her into the meat of the scene. “Well, just call me, “Teacher,” then, I suppose,” and he chuckles.

Here we go, he thinks. He turns back to his other partner, leaning in and giving her another soft kiss on her mouth, then another, and another, leaning her back onto the bed as he goes. “Now you, just lay here and look pretty. We’re gonna take real good care of you, sugar.” Once she’s laid fully on her back, he sits back on his haunches and reaches forward, grabbing under her thighs and hauling her forward by the hips, pressing her thighs back and exposing the center of her fully to their gazes. “Gorgeous little cunt,” he says, and turns to his new pupil. “Come take a look, babygirl. You ever seen a pussy so pretty?”

She scoots over, planting herself right next to Tommy, leaning into his side and looking at where her partner is on display for her. She speaks up then, “So pretty, wow, she’s so wet.” He isn’t sure she’s even fully aware of what she’s doing or if she’s just as pussy drunk as he’s starting to feel, but she reaches forward then, lets her fingers touch featherlight, exploring the feel of another woman for the first time.

“There you go, baby, give it a feel,” Tommy encourages, and she’s a good student, fingers moving more surely then, scritching lightly through her partner’s soft curls, making her stomach jump, and she smiles at the reaction she created. Growing bolder, she dips a finger lower, gasping softly at what she finds waiting for her.

“Oh my god,” their partner moans.

“Doing so good, sweetheart, keep going,” Tommy says, kissing her shoulder, nipping at it lightly, letting his hand explore her back, fingers trailing over the knobs of her spine, dipping ever so slightly into pock marks scattered here and there, tapping at the constellation of beauty marks and moles he finds. When he comes back around to face the scene in front of him, he’s pleasantly surprised to find her fully exploring now.

“Mmm, that nice, sugar? She makin’ you feel good?” Tommy prompts their receiving partner and she nods surely.

“Yeah, she’s so, mmm god, a natural. You’re sure you’ve never done this before?” she asks.

Pausing her ministrations briefly to chuckle, she looks up from where her gaze was trained on the slick slit where her fingers have been playing, “Nope, first pussy I’ve ever been in. It’s fun, I like it. Think I want a taste,” she responds, turning to look at Tommy.

“Yeah, babygirl? Alright, come here,” Tommy pats the space next to him and lays on his stomach, gesturing for her to do the same. She lays down next to him, kicking her feet up behind her and crossing them at the ankles. Cute, he thinks.

“Sugar, can you do us a favor?” He drags his hands up the backs of her thighs and pushes them towards her chest by the bend of her knees. “Can you hold these for us, please? Gonna be a little busy, need both of my hands,” he explains and winks at her. She groans softly in anticipation at his statement and complies, grabbing behind her own knees and maintaining a hold there, opening herself up to be further devoured.

“Ok, baby, now first thing’s first, every pussy’s a little different, every woman is going to like something a little different, too. But there’s two things for certain–” he leans in and presses his hands to the crease where her thighs meet her cunt, runs his thumbs reverently over her outer lips and spreads her open, “don’t overlook the power of gentleness, and always remember to love the clit.” He punctuates the end of his sentence by using the tip of his nose to rub a tight circle into her nub, inhaling deeply as he goes.

“Holy fucking shit,” she responds, squeezing her thighs tighter in her grip.

The woman next to him squirms, and he wonders if she’s feeling it, too, the phantom drag across her most sensitive spots.

He pulls his face back to move the scene forward, delivering a line they planned earlier. "Hey, sugar, you got your phone with you?” She lifts her head from where it was resting on the bed to nod at him. “Let's get this on video so babygirl here can watch it back later, give her a little coaching if she needs it,” he turns next to him, plants a kiss on his partner’s shoulder, “Or if she’s as much of a natural as I think she’ll be, you’ll both have a nice little souvenir for the wank bank," he ends crudely, almost jokingly, shrugging and chuckling.

She lets go of one of her legs and reaches over, finds her phone where it was resting in the sheets, unlocking it and turning on the camera, the flash illuminating their faces between her thighs, slick from her cunt making Tommy’s nose glisten. She whines at the sight.

“There we go. We makin’ a pretty picture for you, sugar?” Tommy teases.

“Oh, fuck yeah, this is for sure the hottest thing I’ve ever done,” she replies in earnest.

Tommy preens. He uses one arm to push the leg she dropped to pick up the phone back into position. “Alright sugar darlin’, need you to use both hands, hold that camera steady for us,” he instructs. “Now, baby, grab her other leg, yep just like that, push it back, give yourself some room to work. Perfect little student for me, aren’t you?” Access to their pussy re-granted, Tommy gets back to work, missing the way her eyes glaze over at the praise.

“Next lesson–multitasking. Now, when you’re getting fucked real good, right, you’ve got a nice cock inside you, stroking nice and deep, hitting those nice spots and that’s fine, but the ones who know what they’re doing, they do a little extra, don’t they baby?” He looks at his partner next to him, gently stroking the pussy in front of him with his thumb, making sure she stays nice and stimulated while he teaches. He receives an animated nod in return and continues, “that’s right. If they’re worth their salt in bed, they’re hitting all the good spots, inside and out. This is no different, baby. We’re going to start outside first. Watch me, then you take a turn, ok?” He doesn’t wait for her response before he dives in.

Tommy turns his head ever so slightly to the side, making sure the camcorder can see his tongue when he eventually moves it through her. He uses the hand not holding back her thigh to spread the lips of her cunt open further for him with his forefinger and thumb. He leans down all the way, leaving a kiss to the whole of her, before his tongue flicks out and licks a wide stripe from just above her hole to her pulsing clitoris, tongue contracting and flicking firmer as it passes over the sensitive nub. He earns a moan from her in response and repeats the motion again and again, lapping at her cunt like a cat getting the sweetest cream. He moans at the tangy taste of her, of pussy, the flavor incomparable to anything else he’s ever tasted and he loves this, the carnal delight of sex. He gives a final lap and kisses her clit as a parting gift before passing the reins to his partner.

“Alright, sweetheart, you ready for a turn?” She nods eagerly, pupils blown wide, mouth lush and swollen with arousal. Tommy moves over a little, giving her room to get situated. He removes her hand from the other woman’s thigh, giving her the comfort of having both hands to work with for her first time. Their partner lets her leg fall from where it was being held and instead opens up at her hip, resting it in a frog-like position with her knee on the bed, letting her calf and foot rest on the other woman’s upper back. Good girl, thank you, he thinks, making quick eye contact with her and in silent communication.

Hesitantly, she leans down, doing just what Tommy showed her, spreading pussy lips open with her thumbs and licking gently, first along the plush softness of her inner lips, just tasting, feeling it out. The whine her exploration earns must spur her on, because she dives in with abandon then, gathering her viscous wetness direct from the source and bringing it with her before lathing her tongue over her clit again and again, lapping and swirling, moaning into it, both women losing themselves in the pleasure of the moment, unworried about the sounds emanating from their throats.

“There you go, baby, doing such a good job. Such a quick learner. You like that? You like eating pussy?” His mouth is filthy, egging her on, watching as she whines into it and nods her head. He laughs at that, “Alright, now, come up for air, got more to teach ya.” She pulls away, taking a few labored breaths, mouth shiny, corners turned up into a pleased grin, and he can’t help but to pull her in, share a deep, slick kiss, get his second helping from her tongue.

Tommy resumes his earlier position between their partner’s thighs, giving the one in his grasp a sweet kiss. He turns back to his student and continues his instruction. "Now, if you really wanna make her sing, you gotta multitask, get your fingers in her while your tongue works on the outside. Watch, here,” he looks down at the messy, open cunt in front of him and slides his index finger inside gently, letting a guttural groan leave his throat at the feel of her. She’s hot, soaking wet, and tight. This is going to be so much fun, he thinks to himself. He gives her a few slow pumps, watching her like a hawk, making sure she’s feeling good and relaxed before he pulls his finger out, offering it to his bed neighbor and she opens immediately, welcoming it into her mouth and sucks the now familiar milky slickness clean.

“Mmm, good girl, baby, thanks for cleaning me up. Sugar, you ok to take another?” He checks in.

“Yes, yes, please, more, Tommy,” she responds eagerly.

“Happy to oblige,” he smiles before getting back to work. He slides in his first two fingers together this time, letting her unfurl her muscles and pull him inside, holds steady for a moment, leaving kisses on her thighs, the top of her mound, nosing at her curls. Once he feels her totally relaxed, he starts to withdraw, shallowly at first, before pumping back inside slowly. He steadily adds length to each stroke, until she’s easily taking all of his thick, long fingers without resistance. The sounds reverberating through the room are obscene. Pussy absolutely squelching, moans unabashed as he hits her just right every few strokes, then he adds more.

He drops her leg, letting her open for him like she did for their partner, giving him access to his other hand. He uses his newfound freedom to curve above where his face hovers and pulls back the little flap of skin hooding her sweet clitoris. He leans his face down and points his tongue, pressing firmly, directly onto her fully exposed button for a second before flicking it at a rapid pace up and down, back and forth, all the time never ceasing his movements inside her.

“Tommy, Tommy, fuck I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna–” she nearly shouts, feeling her tense, squeezing his fingers like a vice, before she releases, walls of her cunt pulsating in time with the pounding of her heart, slickness coating down to his palm.

“There you go, sugar. Gorgeous when you fall apart,” he praises. “You ok to keep going, or you need a break?”

She sits up, phone forgotten for a moment, dropping it to her side while she answers, “Give me like 30 seconds. I wanna do that again, with her this time,” she points at their partner who is looking at the scene in front of her with poorly concealed awe on her face, never seeing another woman orgasm up close like this before.

“Think we can do that, sugar. You up for it, babygirl?” He turns to check on his other partner.

“Ye–mmh,” she starts, voice thick, before clearing her throat and trying again. “Yeah, yes, please. I would like that very much.”

“Alright, sweetpea, hop on in here. You get stuck, you wanna stop, you need anything, just say, ok? We got you,” he reassures her with his words, clean hand running over her hair gently and down to cup her cheek.

She situates herself between her partner’s thighs and looks up, offering a shy, “Hi, again,” and giggling. Her partner giggles back and waves a little wave. “I’m just gonna…” she starts, and presses in her first two fingers, knowing the feeling of her own cunt, but finding the feeling of another woman’s entirely new at the same time. She starts a slow and easy rhythm, building her confidence with every new sound she drags out of her partner.

“Want to try adding your mouth?” Tommy encourages. She leans down, hovering right over where she’s most wanted, and looks up and makes direct eye contact with the camera in her partner’s hands before she licks. Her partner throws her head back and groans, something deep and real, almost animalistic. She continues, alternating between a pattern of flicking like Tommy and lapping like before, absolutely devouring the juicy pussy in front of her. The loud squish squish squish she’s drawing from inside her cunt causing her own core to pull tight and hot, the liquid of her slicking her nearly to dripping onto the sheets below.

Tommy watches on absolutely rapt. Cock angry at him for not sinking into the nearest tight, hot, wet hole immediately. He staves off his primal desire, giving it a harsh squeeze at the base, tell it to behave a little while longer, the chastity will be worth the reward they have planned.

“God, baby, sugar, so sexy, look so goddamn gorgeous together, sound so gorgeous together, fuck,” he rambles, knowing he doesn’t have long until he needs to come.

He squeezes the base of his cock once more, taking his lower lip between his teeth and bites down hard as he gets lost in the mix of obscene moans coming from his two partners. It’s like a symphony to his ears, (and his cock). He makes the executive decision to remove himself from the scene momentarily and swipes a bottle of water from a nearby table and twists the cap off in a haste.

The mushroom head of his cock is red, angry and engorged as he downs the entire bottle, a few stray drips of water roll down his chin, neck, and between his pecs.

When he makes his way back to the bed, both women are coming down from their highs, bodies slick with a sheen of sweat coating them like a sultry mist. They’re a mess of giggles and praises when Tommy situates himself once more. He presses a warm kiss to the shoulder blade of his bedside partner, nipping playfully with his teeth.

“How are we feelin’, ladies? Can teacher Tommy getcha anything? Refreshments? Need a breather?” His tone is light and carefree, genuine.

His bedside partner who has her cheek resting against the pelvic bone of the other woman, looks over at him with a newfound confident grin. Her face and lips are covered in slick that glistens on her skin. She makes direct eye contact with him briefly before her eyes slowly drift southwards to his cock. She coyly smiles and peers back upwards to him. “Well, there is one thing you could get for me..” she trails off.

He’s proud, it’s written all over his face and he does his best to contain his genuine smile and craft it into a convincing smirk. But it’s moments like these where he’s reminded just how much he loves his job. The reward of a satisfying orgasm is almost always certain, but to see a woman come out of her shell so naturally? Now, that’s a spectacle that he holds onto dearly.

“What is it that you want me to do for you, doll?”

“Teacher Tommy, can you please fuck me while I eat her pretty pussy?” She asks sweetly, eyes glazed over, pussy drunk undoubtedly, but the way she’s eyeing his cock has Tommy nearly combusting right there on the spot.

“You want teacher to fuck you now? Mmm. Think I can manage that, baby. You okay with me goin’ in raw? S’what I prefer, but whatever the lady wants.” He reassures her.

This type of conversation rarely ever takes place in mainstream porn. Most people would end up skipping through to get back to the main event, but Joel’s and Tommy’s viewers were different. They thoroughly enjoyed all the real bits of dialogue and relatable moments.

She giggles and pushes herself up into a sitting position between the other woman’s thighs. “Fuck me raw, please.”

“Atta girl.” He grins and gives the base of his cock a few slow pumps. He’s at the point where he’s hoping, praying that he can last through this without coming too soon. Despite his years of built up stamina, sometimes pussy is just that good.

He watches with hooded eyes as his bedside partner rolls back over onto her stomach, back arched as she dives right back into what Tommy taught her about the art of pussy eating. There’s no hesitation on her end as she laps at the other woman’s clit, eyes fluttering shut as she savors the tangy taste on her tongue.

The bed dips down slightly as Tommy situates himself behind her. His hands slide around her hips, yanking her back towards him in a sudden motion. Her weeping hole is pulsing, pushing out a drool of slick that gathers between her thighs, and he marvels at the sight of it.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous pussy you got, babygirl. Fuckin’ drippin’ all over the goddamn sheets.” He whistles low. “Eatin’ pussy really turned ya on, huh? Mmm. Your little hole is just beggin’ to be fucked.” He rasps and drops one hand from her hip to spread open her thighs further so that he can get a proper look.

“Such a needy lil’ cunt. Fuck. Don’t worry, baby. Teacher Tommy is gonna take real good care of ya, I promise.”

“Please, please, please fuck me, Tommy.” She mumbles against the woman’s cunt, mouth full of pussy. She presses her ass back towards him, desperate to feel the sweet stretch of his cock.

“Alright, alright, darlin.’ I know how eager you are, baby. Trust me, I know.” He chuckles before spitting directly onto his cock. He rubs his saliva in for extra lubrication (not that he needs it) before he notches the head of his cock at her entrance. He’s so painfully hard that he has to press down on it with his thumb to get the angle right as he slowly guides it into her wet warmth. She hugs him like the tightest fucking glove, pulling him in further and further till he’s bottomed out with his hips firmly pressed against her ass.

Vulgar, crude, filth tumbles past his lips as her pussy squeezes him like a vice he never wants to part from. He lets out a puff of hot air, before he chuckles, tone deep and raspy, “Jesus fuckin’ christ, doll. This pussy made outta liquid gold or somethin’? Lord have mercy, goddamn.”

Between moans both women couldn’t help but giggle at his comment, but those giggles transformed into cries of pleasure when Tommy almost immediately set a grueling pace, thrusting in and out of her. His skin slapped against hers wildly as the entire length of his impressive cock disappeared and reappeared again. Her jaw went slack and the movements of her mouth on the other woman’s pussy had soon become uncoordinated and messy.

“Don’t you stop eatin’ her pussy on my account, doll. I know how fuckin’ good it feels to have my cock stretchin’ your pussy apart, but c’mon, baby. You can do this.” He encourages her, leaning down with the breadth of his shoulders pressing into her back as he leans over, cock buried so deep inside of her, she can feel the head of him kissing her womb. “Want you to suck her clit into your mouth, babygirl. Remember to be nice n’gentle. It’s a sensitive little thing, and she’s so-so close. Make her come for me, baby, c’mon. Make her come for Teacher Tommy.”

She nods fervently, trying to focus back in on making the other woman feel good, while also enjoying her own pleasure. By god, Tommy Miller has a nice fucking cock, and he sure as hell knows how to use it. She suckles her clit into her mouth as instructed, rolling her tongue over the little pulsing bud. She uses her hands to keep her thighs spread apart when they threaten to close in around her skull.

“That’s it. Good fuckin’ girl.” He growls praisingly. “Makin’ her pussy sing, baby. Makin’ her feel so fuckin’ good. Teacher Tommy is so-so proud. But y’know what would make him even prouder, babygirl? Makin’ her pretty pussy squirt all over your face. C’mon, baby, you and me. Let’s get her there.”

He receives a chorus of enthusiastic “yes, yes, yes, teacher Tommy.”

He grinds his hips deep into her ass before pulling back shallowly and thrusts back in, repeating the pattern as he instructs. “Now to get her there, baby. Y’gotta do somethin’ extra special. Want you to slip your fingers back inside of her, and crook your ‘em inwards. Keep ‘em right there and do that as fast as you can. Drag ‘em n’ shake ‘em just right while you suckle on that sweet lil’ clit, and she’ll really sing for ya then.” His southern twang is thick and raspy, his own orgasm impending, but he’ll be damned if he comes too soon.

She obeys enthusiastically as she remembers just how Tommy taught her how to eat her out and finger her at the same time. She slips two fingers inside of her pulsing hole, scissoring them open before she crooks them inwards, right against that soft, spongy warm spot. She curls them at a rapid quick pace while she sucks on her clit just like she did before. The other woman wails and keens her hips forward into her face, chanting her name as her fingers grip her head tightly, nails scraping her scalp.

“O—oh—oh fuck!” She cries out, throwing her head back, “I’m gonna cum! Oh god, don’t stop! Please, please, please!” She sees stars behind her eyes as white hot pleasure shoots from the top of her spine and down to the tips of her toes.

“Come for us, sugar. C’mon, soak her fuckin’ face!” Tommy’s voice is commanding, dominant as his own carnal need for release seeps in, and they get a little taste of what Brazzer’s era Tommy was like for a moment.

The three of them come at nearly exactly the same time, orchestrated by the maestro himself. There’s a shared moment of real vulnerability as they let themselves go. He shoots hot ropes of his cum into her pussy from behind when he hears the telltale hiss of liquid shoot out of their sweet sugar, giving her a taste of the divine nectar for the first time. Her cunt milks him fucking dry, her orgasm fluttering for a long moment after the first handful of tight squeezes, and when he slowly begins to slip out, his cock is gleaming in a creamy mixture of both of their releases.

When she finally comes up for air, she’s coated in the other woman’s release and the space between her face and the other woman’s pussy is positively drenched.

Tommy preens at the sight, gently pulling the woman he was fucking up into a sitting position as she falls back against his hard chest. He kisses all over her face, tilting her head to the side so he can chase her lips and taste their partners cum on his tongue. “Did so good, baby. So-so fuckin’ good. M’so proud.” He kisses the tip of her nose before his attention is drawn to their other partner. “Let’s go and give her a well deserved cuddle, shall we, babygirl?” He wiggles his brows playfully as she reaches up to push back his sweaty, messy black curls that have fallen over his face.

They move in a languid motion to settle against either side of the other woman who appears to be in a post-orgasmic haze when she feels two pairs of soft, wet, lips peppering endearing kisses up her arms and to her face.

She giggles, eyes peeking open, glazed over as Tommy gently cups her face and strokes her cheekbone with his thumb.“Did so fuckin’ good for us, sugar. So fuckin’ good. Teacher Tommy is so proud of his star students.” he preens.

She lets out a pleasant sigh, and stretches her legs out, causing her pussy to squelch from the movement, and they laugh at the sound. “That was fucking incredible.” She finally says, catching her breath as Tommy’s free hand slowly wanders down between her thighs. When she feels his fingers drag through her folds, her hips jolt up against his hand and she lets out a soft yelp of surprise.

He chuckles and says, “Easy now, sugar. Jus’ wanted to see the mess you made s’all.” he rasps warmly.

“Jesus, dude!” She laughs and swats at his hand. “I’m fucking sensitive!”

He laughs again, withdrawing his hand and lets it rest on her hip instead. He feigns disappointment as their other partner tucks herself up around her side, draping her arm across her middle. “So does that mean you don’t want my cock?” He teases and she giggles.

“Fuck. I think I’m spent, Teacher Tommy,” she jokingly tacks on the nickname. “Maybe next time?”

“S’alright, sugar. Teacher Tommy understands. And besides, I think it’s snack time anyway. Y’all good with eatin’ out?” He coyly winks at the camera and the girls groan and roll their eyes. “What?! I meant orderin’ pizza s’all.”

Joel is working in his office, the door left open in case anyone needs him. He’s updating their channel page when he hears the familiar sound of Tommy’s footsteps approaching. Tommy is a repeat offender of strolling around the studio naked after a scene, so Joel doesn’t even look away from the screen, just hollers from his seat to avoid being confronted with the image of his brother’s bare cock and balls.

“Boy, if you don’t put on some fuckin’ pants...” He scolds with a tight shake of his head.

The younger Miller brother scoffs playfully and fights the urge to roll his eyes, “What? I just needed to grab my wallet! We're ordering pizza, you want anything?"

Joel pauses his typing as he leans back in his chair before saying, “Yeah, for you to put on some fuckin’ pants, you imbecile.”

“Cool, cool, so extra sausage?” Tommy teases and Joel threatens to throw his pen at him.

“No, you fuckwad. Pepperoni.” He emphasizes, “and none of that thin crust shit, Tommy. I’m serious.”

"I keep tellin' ya, Joel, just give the sausage another chance! You might actually like it!" He winks. “Speakin’ of giving things a chance, I had a proud teachin’ moment back there! Taught one of ‘em to properly eat pussy, and my god, she did fantastic! Even made her squirt!”

“Tommy, I tried it, and I didn’t like it, and I ain’t ever gonna like it.” He huffs before a grin begins to tug on the corner of his lips. “S’that so? Sounds like y’all had a party. Good job, little brother.”

“Oh, we had a party alright. Anyway, extra sausage, and super fuckin’ thin crust, anythin’ else?”

“I swear to god—” Joel threatens but Tommy is quicker than that so before Joel can throw his pen directly at his head, Tommy takes off down the hall gleefully.

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[phonydiaries]

a Dance in The Dark - P x Reader

It’s late when you reach the puppet’s quarters. Long shadows loom along the walls of the hotel and a draft rustles past you, pajama-clad and disheveled from a night of restlessness. You hadn’t bothered to switch your clothes, knowing your dear puppet wouldn’t pay it any mind. You had half expected to find P dormant at this hour, but instead he’s laid out on the floor with his legs kicked over the side of his bed. A book -which he seems thoroughly engrossed in- is held up above his head, its pages illuminated by the yellow-green light of Monad’s lamp, which casts a soft halo about the edges of his face. You rap your knuckles against the doorframe and his eyes jump to you, startled out of their careful concentration.

“Can’t sleep.” You sigh, gesturing down the hall with a tilt of your head. “Walk with me?”

With a twitch of a smile, Pinocchio tosses his book to the side and rolls haphazardly out of his place on the floor, clumsy with excitement. 

Knowing the hotel well enough, the two of you make your rounds of its many chambers in the dark, ever so often bumping elbows to each other’s ribs. Your barefoot steps cast dull echoes through the halls as you dip in and out of doorways, poke behind desks and rummage carelessly through shelves. In the deep blue foreignness of nighttime, you feel exploratory; curious like children let loose in an enormous garden just brimming with unrealized discoveries. 

Passing through the entrance hall, you seize the coveted opportunity to act a fool behind the front desk. “Hello, you’ve reached Hotel Krat.” You say, picking up the receiver of the hotel’s long-dead rotary phone. You’re sat on top of the desk now, your legs swinging over the side. Pinocchio glances up at you, his hands preoccupied diligently petting the hotel’s beloved orange tabby. You feign listening to the nonexistent voice on the other end of the phone. “Oh I’m sorry, Mr. Spring is busy at the moment. I’m afraid he’s in a very important meeting.” 

After thoroughly nosing about, you find yourselves settling in the piano room, you and Pino curiously flipping through pages and pages of sheet music. P’s interest is especially piqued by one booklet and he takes a seat at the piano, attempting to make sense of its pages. An admirable attempt is made as he plinks slowly and diligently away at the piece, tugging at your sleeve when he gets stuck. You barely know more than he does, and as you sit together at the bench your fingers tangle and trip over each other. The resulting notes are dissonant and clangy and you both fall into ripples of laughter at your duet's messy melody. 

The night wears on calmly, P fingering through a box of cobwebbed records, most of which are scratched beyond recognition. He retrieves one with some care and blows a layer of dust from the cover, his nose scrunching as it flutters across his face. 

You’re lying on the floor, limbs outstretched like a lazy snow angel as P futzes with the gramophone. There’s a few moments of anticipatory static before the record crackles to life; a somber piano score reverberates through the dim and intimate space. You close your eyes  as a woman’s wispy voice floats through the room, cool and calm. Something about the melody, the echo, the timbre of her voice makes your ribs fall heavy around your heart like a slowly but surely shrinking birdcage. 

Close your eyes,

Come to me,

Feel alright,

Just dance with me all through the night

“I can’t stand it.” You start, “It’s beautiful… but it makes me so sad.” 

You wonder if P is affected differently, maybe even more than you are by the emotional quality of the music. He certainly seems to have a fascination with it. “What about you?” You ask, your head turning to glance at the puppet. 

P’s eyes flicker towards the ceiling and his mouth twitches to the side in thoughtful consideration. He lifts a finger at you -hold on- while he rises from his place at the piano stool and arranges himself with precision beside the grand. He stands up tall, shoulders back, one arm held out just-so at hip level, the other outstretched as if resting on the shoulder of a ghost. You beam at the fine mimic work in front of you. 

“Really?” you ask, your brows knitting with intrigue. “Makes you want to dance, huh?” 

He nods enthusiastically and motions for you to join him. Your mouth hangs open for a moment. 

“Oh- no really I don’t know the first thing about it.” You stammer. Before your days at the hotel as Pinocchio’s companion, you had never known such affluent people and knew very little of high society or of their practices. Any formal knowledge of dance was utterly foreign to you. 

P assumes a swordsman’s stance and shrugs at you, nonchalant, as if combat training and dance were the most naturally drawn parallels in the world. 

“Sparring with you isn’t the same.” You say flatly, but P’s already made up his mind, and before you know it his hand is closing around yours and he’s tugging you up off the floor. You laugh nervously as you rise to your feet. “No, I’m serious! I don’t-” You begin to protest, but you catch a glimpse of his face, wide pleading eyes and creased brows. He smiles with all the calculated charm of a fox, handsome and cunning. You exhale deeply, steeling yourself before meeting his gaze. 

“Oh fine.” You relent, much to his chagrin. “Just watch your feet, I mean it.” 

P’s smile is annoyingly triumphant as he holds his hands palm-up out to you, seeking your guidance. Always so much concern for your comfort, you feel your cheeks warm just barely and hope the low light of the piano room masks it.

“Right. Um. Let’s see, you’ll put your hands…here.”  You say, taking his hands in yours and leading them to the crook between your waist and hips. He steals curious glances at you as you do. 

“And then I guess I’ll just…” You trail off, as your hands fold neatly together at the nape of his neck. You stand still for a moment, just looking at each other in the dark, the features of your faces obscured and foreign. This isn’t the way these things are normally done, you think, in pajamas, in the dark, but you can’t imagine it gets any better. If not for the undercurrent of music, you may have forgotten your purpose here entirely. P takes the first step, and you follow his lead with a dull anxiousness. Strangely enough, your movements feel still and mechanical compared to his. You try to loosen up, rolling your shoulders back, allowing yourself to be disarmed. P’s presence has a funny way of setting you at ease. 

The two of you move slowly in circles through the room, swaying gently like awkward young lovers. You draw into him as the music carries. Your cheek settles against his shoulder and his arms wrap around the small of your back and you breathe easy. It’s a lovely feeling, the way your bodies fit together like this, like they were made to. As you continue to step and sway, you close your eyes and listen to the gentle whirs and clicks of your companion’s heart…although… 

You maneuver slightly and press your ear to his chest. With some surprise you notice a skipping in its usual rhythm, bolder than you’ve ever heard it. You pull your head away and look up at P’s face in awe, a glinting smirk crossing your lips. 

“Pino, are you nervous?” You ask, cocking your head to the side. His face contorts and he opens his mouth as if to speak, but nothing comes of it. He actually looks flustered and you almost don’t believe it. “It’s just me.” You say simply. At this, Pinocchio’s face softens, his brows turning up as if he’d taken offense.

“Just you?” He asks, and the timbre of his voice surprises you. You spend so much time together, and yet hardly do you hear him speak. Your smile fades slowly, replaced with an expression of curiosity. You nod hesitantly and hum in reply. P shakes his head at you, deliberate and slow. 

“Not just.” He murmurs, his gaze holding yours intently. “Never just you.” You realize you’re holding your breath. A ghost of a whisper slips past your lips. 

“Oh.”

Your fingers itch for something you can’t quite name and you find yourself pulling the puppet closer. His head dips to meet you and you feel a stray lock of his hair brush your cheek. His breath is warm.

The song ends. 

The needle of the gramophone lifts and the air is stretched thin with a cutting silence. You’re left in the dark together again, frozen in place. It feels terribly long, like you’re both waiting for something.  

“The music’s stopped.” You say, shattering the stillness of the moment, and as P moves to retrieve the record you immediately wish you hadn't. Your hand extends to stop him, fingers closing around his wrist. “But- we don’t have to, you know.” 

In the dark, you think you see him smile. He holds you like glass, delicate, and picks up again, moving leisurely to the music playing only in his head. He hums the tune softly and you follow suit, the two of you meeting in a duet of somber sounds. You wonder if your chests swell the same, if your breaths and heartbeats synchronize, following each other blindly the way you do now. The motion feels like crashing waves, steady and rhythmic, comfortingly repetitive. You fall into the flow of it all over again, leaning against P, sturdy and secure. You wouldn’t mind doing this all night.

Feels alright, indeed. 

[sciroccoorion35]

Dancing in the Dark

Inspiration struck this morning in the car while I was taking my kids to daycare. This song came on and I just couldn't help writing this. I'll maybe edit it and add a beginning to post it on ao3 later, but for now, have a little flash fic.

Locklyle, rated T, wc: 1200

Plunk!

Lockwood just about jumped out of his skin. On instinct he reached for Lucy, her hand still lying atop the battered old piano, eyes closed, head tilted, Listening.

His hand found hers in the dim light of the candles, fingers slotting through hers like puzzle pieces clicking together.

“I’m listening,” she breathed, and Lockwood wasn’t sure if she was speaking to him or the Visitor, but it was enough that he paused, rather than yanking her back immediately. Instead he hovered a moment longer, his other hand squeezing anxiously around the handle of his rapier.

And then the music began. It was tentative at first, soft and distant, as though echoing from the walls. But the melody swelled and suddenly it was like the song was in the room. He glanced down at the piano, half expecting to see the keys moving, but they were still. He wondered if he touched the piano, would he feel the vibrations? He so rarely Heard anything on cases, that for a moment he was lost in the sheer marvel of it. The music was beautiful, a ghostly sonata, and for some reason it was vaguely familiar. He wondered if it was a piece he’d heard his mother play a lifetime ago.

That thought brought him to his senses. What the hell was he doing, standing here listening when he was meant to be standing guard. No wonder Lucy was so often swept away.

“Luce,” he hissed, tugging gently on their still entwined hands.

Her eyes popped open and she looked over at him hazily.

“Lockwood?” Lucy said, a dreamy quality to her voice that worried him. He took a step back, then another, leading her slowly away from the piano, not wanting to disturb the Visitor who for the moment at least, seemed peaceful.

“Come on,” he whispered. “We know the piano is the Source now, yeah? We can wrap it in chains and call DEPRAC to get it tomorrow.”

“No,” Lucy said, seeming to come back to herself and glancing over her shoulder in a way that put Lockwood on edge.

“Why not?” he asked, feeling a tension creep into his shoulders.

Lucy turned back and saw his rapier half raised in anticipation of an attack. She tsked, and put her hand out, forcing his arm down. She pushed him backways gently, and he went, refusing to take his eyes off the source of the hauntingly beautiful music.

He half stumbled over the edge of their chain circle, but Lucy caught him.

“There,” Lucy said, releasing him. “Now we’re safe. No need to disturb her.”

“What do you mean?” Lockwood asked suspiciously, looking down at her.

“Oh Lockwood. I know you won’t believe me, but she’s not dangerous.”

Well, she was right about one thing, at any rate.

“She just wants to play,” Lucy continued, before he could object. “Her name was Clara. She was sick—tuberculosis I think. She grew weaker and weaker, until she could barely play children’s tunes. Music was the only thing she loved, and even that was taken from her by the end.”

Lucy’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears, shining in the darkness.

“We can take care of everything tomorrow. But tonight… Can we just let her play? One last time?”

Lockwood sighed. He wanted to argue. He wanted to wrap the piano in chains and take Lucy home, where she was safe. But he knew, even as he opened his mouth to argue, that she had already won.

“Alright, Luce,” he said with a sigh.

She smiled up at him gratefully, and it was almost all worth it, just for that. She turned so that they stood shoulder to shoulder, listening to the music, an audience of two. 

The song changed to something happier, more lilting, He felt Lucy sway slightly, and realised she was moving to the music. He glanced down at the top of her head and couldn't help a small smile from catching the corner of his mouth. Who else in the world would stand in the dark, in a haunted house, dancing to ghostly music.

“Luce,” he said on impulse, “do you want to…?”

“Hmm?”

Before his saner mind could intervene, he set his rapier down on the kit bags and turned, offering Lucy his hand.

“What?” she asked, half suspicious, half laughing.

“Would you care to dance?”

“Oh!” 

Now she looked slightly flustered, and he wondered if the lights were brighter, would he see her blushing? He waited, and after a moment, she placed her hand in his, letting him pull her closer. He put his other hand on her waist and she gripped his bicep as they swayed slowly, together.

“I, um, don’t really know how to dance,” Lucy said softly. “Is this right?”

Lockwood chuckled softly. “I have no idea, Luce. It’s my first time.”

It was nice, Lockwood decided, but a little boring. He’d never danced with a girl before, but he’d seen it in old movies. They always did fancy moves, with lots of turns and kicks and lifting the girl up by her waist. He suspected if he tried any of that, they’d fall right over. That, or Lucy would deck him.

But he pulled her a little closer, so that he could feel the warmth of her body against his chest, his hand wrapping around to the small of her back. He could smell her shampoo, and was sorely tempted to place a kiss on her hair, but worried that might be weird?

Instead he bumped his nose against her forehead and she looked up at him, her eyes shining in the dark. He leaned down, his cheek brushing against hers, her breath hot on his chin.

“Is this alright?” he asked and felt her nod.

For a long minute, he wondered if he ought to kiss her. If he just leaned a little closer, their lips would meet and then… what? He wasn’t too clear on that part either. Again, all he had to go on was memories of black and white films, where the kissing always seemed more like wrestling with lips, and there was usually a dramatic crescendo of music.

As though their Visitor were listening to his thoughts, the music swelled, not anything so dramatic as he’d seen in the films, but he had the strangest sense Clara was encouraging them. Lucy tilted her head and that was all it took for Lockwood to fall inexorably into her gravity, leaning that one centimetre closer so that their lips brushed.

It was almost nothing, really. A soft, gentle bump of his mouth against hers. But somehow, it was everything. He waited a moment, to see whether Lucy really would deck him now, but she didn’t. He thought her eyes were closed, her face still tilted towards his. So he kissed her again. It seemed that this was something that would take a little practice, and he was more than willing to put in the effort, if she’d let him.

The music slowed and stopped. Eventually, Lockwood pulled back, taking a deep breath and glancing over at the piano. All was still.

“Is she gone?” he asked.

“I think… Yes, I think so. I think maybe, she just wanted to play for someone who would appreciate it. Who would understand what it meant to her.”

“I guess we can go home, then. Call DEPRAC tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Lucy said, looking up at him in a way that made his heart lose its rhythm for a beat. 

He took her hand once more, squeezing it softly.

“Well then, Luce. Let’s go home.”

[goatcheesecak3]

Please write a "meet the parents" situation for rodrick officially meeting his partner's parents, I live for him actually trying so he could make a good impression >_<

#

Hello! Sorry this took a few days, but here it is!

Rodrick fished around in his drawer, desperately in search of his church clothes, the only things he had that weren't band shirts and skinny jeans. Tonight was a huge deal. He was finally going to meet y/n's parents. A formal dinner wasn't exactly in his comfort zone, but he was confident that he'd mage a good impression. He'd had a week to plan, he'd even swallowed his pride and asked his mother for help with conversational tips and how to impress parents. So, with a neatly pressed shirt on and a pair of smart looking shoes he'd borrowed from his father, he set out in his van to y/n's house. Although, he had one very important stop to make on the way. He made a small detour to a shop where he purchased some flowers and a bottle of wine - a nice bottle, a fairly pricey cabernet sauvignon - not the cheap stuff he usually got for himself. He knew middle aged people were always impressed when a young person turned up with a gift.

He parked just round the corner from y/n's house, unsure as to what her parents would make of the beat up white van with "löded diper" crudely spray painted on the side that he would often chauffeur their daughter around in. Walking up to the house he revised the tips his mother had given him. Be polite, smile, offer to help. Piece of cake.

He straightened himself up, and rang the bell. A woman in a neat blouse answered with a welcoming smile,

"You must be the famous Rodrick, come on in, I'm y/n's mother, (your mum's name)"

"Hi, it's lovely to finally meet you. I hope you like cab sauv and peonies," he smiled, handing y/n's mother the gifts.

"Well aren't you just a dear"

She escorted him to the dining room (before disappearing into the kitchen) where y/n greeted him with a smile.

"The wine was a nice touch" she winked at him, before giving him a brief kiss on the cheek.

"If I'm being completely honest, I'm absolutely terrified for tonight" he whispered, "I really hope they like me"

"You've got nothing to worry about baby, trust me, they'll love you"

At that moment, y/n's father emerged from the kitchen, he smiled reassuringly at Rodrick

"You certainly know the way to a middle aged woman's heart, lad" he chuckled, placing a firm hand on Rodrick's shoulder.

Rodrick was perplexed, which y/n picked up on

"He means you impressed mum" she giggled.

Rodrick breathed a sigh of relief

"Relax, boy! You don't need to be so nervous, we don't bite" y/n's dad said.

This certainly was going better than expected - almost too much better. Rodrick figured that y/n must have buttered up her parents real good, maybe even embellished some of his better qualities a bit, but that only added pressure. He was so sure that if they knew what he was really like they'd never approve of him, and how on earth could he live up to the perfect gentleman that her parents so clearly thought he was? He was left with only one option: to fake it. It was a foolproof plan, in front of y/n's parents he would no longer be Rodrick, drummer and founder of löded diper, he would be Rodrick, the academically talented, responsible young man.

"Do you need help setting the table?" He asked politely

"Haven't you got him well trained," y/n's dad joked to her, "it's alright son, just take your seat, me and the Mrs will sort that out"

The table was laid, the food placed neatly in front of the four, and Rodrick's wine had been poured into glasses for everyone. Rodrick made sure to compliment the food, and take small delicate bites, rather than scarfing it down like he did at home.

"So Rodrick, tell us how you and y/n met," y/n's mum enquired.

Rodrick's heart began to race. He couldn't possibly tell them that they met at a basement punk show where his band was performing, that wouldn't be very responsible-young-man of him. No problem, he had the perfect lie.

"We met in the... library, yeah that's right, the library. Can't get enough of that place with all it's uh.... books and... stuff"

Y/n shot him a confused look, but didn't say anything.

"Oh, well that's nice" y/n's mum said, but something was off. Did she not believe him? Was that not impressive enough? He had to step up his game.

"Yeah, it's really nice. You know, that's just the sort of thing me and y/n like to get up to together, studying, reading the classics and not staying out later than 8:30. Isn't that right y/n?" He said, stumbling over his words as he did.

Y/n's brow furrowed as she uttered a less than confident "Uhuh..."

"Right then," her dad said, feigning politeness.

It was no use. No matter what he did, Rodrick couldn't hide the fact that he was never going to be the type of guy parents like. He couldn't even fake it. He was more than embarrassed, he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. Looking down, desperately trying to hide his red cheeks, he mumbled some excuse about needing to check if he'd locked his van, then he legged it out the door, leaving a very confused y/n and her parents. He just had to get out of there.

"Y/n, sweetheart," y/n's dad said, "what in the fresh hell just happened?"

"I'm wondering that too," she replied, standing up from the table and heading to the front door, "I'll be right back".

She jogged down the road, where she found Rodrick sat on the floor leaning on his van, his face firmly planted in his palm muttering "you idiot" to himself.

"Uhhhh.. Rodrick? You wanna tell me what that was back there?" She asked, startling him slightly.

"I'm sorry, y/n, I really tried. I'm just not the sort of guy you bring home to your parents. They saw right through me." His gaze directed strictly towards the ground, he was far too humiliated to look at her.

"Yeah, no shit they saw through it Rodrick, I've told them all about you. They know you're not some goody two shoes bookworm"

"They do?" He lifted his head up slightly

"Of course they do," y/n said, sitting down next to him and taking one of his hands.

"They know all about the band, the fact that you hate studying, they even know that you taught me how to shotgun a beer"

"Wh... what?!" Rodrick spluttered, genuinely surprised, "why the hell did they even let me in their house?"

Y/n threw her head back laughing.

"Babe, my dad was in a punk band when he was our age, that's how he and my mum met. They like the fact that I'm not so uptight since meeting you, they say we remind them of themselves when they were younger"

"Wait... really?"

"Really, doofus" y/n smiled, giving Rodrick a playful jab in the arm.

Rodrick smiled, and planted a small peck on her cheek.

"I guess we better go back in and try again huh?" Y/n said, helping Rodrick to his feet

"Lead the way babe".

Upon returning to the dining table, Rodrick composed himself, let out a deep breath and finally spoke.

"I'm sorry about before, I'm not a book guy, I'm the drummer in a punk band called löded diper, the last book I read the whole way through was a beano comic, and I feel naked without eyeliner. So, that's it. That's the truth,"

Y/n's parents were silent for a second, before erupting into laughter.

"Well why didn't you say so!" Y/ns dad said, "Come on son, sit. Tell me about this band of yours..."

The rest of the evening flew by, y/n's parents reminiscing on anecdotes from their youth, while indulging in y/n and Rodricks more recent stories. It would appear that Rodrick couldn't have been more wrong, he was exactly the type of guy a girl brings home to her parents.

A/n hope you enjoyed :^) requests for fics / hcs are still open (sfw only)

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Absolute Submission to the Queen

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors.

Emma: *coughs, coughs*

Silvio: "Hey, what's wrong!?"

Silvio hurriedly approached me and placed his hand on my back.

Despite feeling guilty, I forcefully grabbed his shirt and pulled his handsome face closer.

Silvio: "!?"

Then I lightly kissed him, causing his face to turn bright red.

Even though it had been a while since we got engaged, it seemed he still wasn't used to being touched like this.

(I'm sorry, Prince Silvio.)

Emma: "If you don't do what I ask, I'll humiliate you even more."

Silvio: "You...!"

Emma: "Want me to help you change your clothes?"

I started unbuttoning his shirt, and he quickly distanced himself.

Silvio: "Fine, I’ll turn around, damn it."

Silvio: "But don't you dare stand up and change!"

His ears were still red as he turned away.

(..........)

(I might be able to tame him more than I thought.)

Silvio: "This profit margin is too low. We're overspending."

Merchant: "But the key to this business is to target the rich with high-quality..."

Silvio: "That market is already saturated by existing businesses. Investing in it won't lead anywhere."

(They're having a serious conversation, and yet...)

Silvio continued to examine the documents with one hand while readjusting his hold on me with the other.

(What the hell is even going on here!?)

He regularly hosted business negotiation meetings to invite promising entrepreneurs for business matchmaking.

However, I felt out of place in such a serious meeting, both physically and in terms of the surrounding gazes.

(Of course, I didn't want to interfere with his work, but I never expected him to carry me around like this instead of leaving me in the room.)

Even when I asked him to put me down, he flatly refused.

Seeing how worried he looked, I couldn't bring myself to refuse either, and as a result, I found myself in this embarrassing situation.

Silvio: "Emma, if there's something on your mind, just tell me."

After finishing the business meeting, our eyes met from a close distance.

Emma: "The current situation is what's bothering me the most."

Silvio: "You're still saying that?"

Silvio: "You injured your leg, so there's no helping it. Just stay quiet."

Emma: "Don't you get tired of carrying me like this?"

Silvio: "This is nothing."

Emma: "..........."

Silvio: "You look dissatisfied."

Emma: "You understand the reason, right?"

Silvio: "I dunno."

(I need to do something about this. Their stares are getting to me!)

I looked around, hoping to find something useful, and my eyes landed on the dishes laid out on the table.

(He's a bit of a shy one, so maybe...)

Emma: "Prince Silvio, I'm hungry."

Silvio: "Come to think of it, you didn't eat much this morning."

(I couldn't taste anything because you kept me on your lap the entire time.)

I swallowed the urge to say that and smiled.

Emma: "Could you please let me sit in that chair over there?"

Emma: "I'll sit still and behave."

Silvio: "Alright."

(He's surprisingly compliant.)

He quickly closed the distance and sat on the chair.

(Hm?)

I blinked in surprise when he suddenly placed me on his lap.

Silvio: "What do you want to eat?"

(Wait, wait, wait!)

Emma: "You're not planning to do the same thing as you did during breakfast, are you?"

Silvio: "Isn't that what Her Majesty the Queen desires?"

(Doesn't he realize people are watching!?)

(No, he's a tyrant, so maybe he doesn't care about being watched in the first place.)

Ignoring my frozen state, he skillfully cut up the seafood dish on the table and brought it to my mouth.

Silvio: "Here you go."

Emma: "I want to eat by myself."

Silvio: "Denied."

Emma: "I see."

(If that's the case, there's nothing I can do.)

I opened my mouth wide and let him feed me, deliberately brushing my tongue against his finger.

Silvio: "!?"

Emma: "It's delicious."

Silvio: ".........."

(I'm really sorry, but this is for my dignity.)

Emma: "What's wrong? Weren't you going to feed me?"

Emma: "Or have you decided to listen to my request?"

Emma: "A simple request to let me eat by myself."

Silvio: "You might actually have the Queen's talent in you."

Emma: "It's embarrassing to be praised by a tyrant."

Silvio: "Don't get embarrassed. Haah."

Exaggeratedly sighing, he sat up and gently helped me back into the chair.

Silvio: "This should be enough."

Emma: "Thank you."

When I received the plate handed to me, he looked at me with some dissatisfaction.

I felt like he would pounce on me the moment I put any strain on my legs.

(He really cares about me. He's just overly protective.)

I couldn't help but smile, and in response, he tousled my hair affectionately.

Even though it was a bit embarrassing, his care and concern made me happy.

Surrounding merchants: "..........."

I should have been concerned about how that scene looked to others, but I only heard the rumors a few days later.

Rio: "Damn it, I'm so jealous!"

Silvio: "Sorry about that."

Rio, frustrated, knelt on the floor and pounded his fist into the ground, leaving Silvio looking down at him in bewilderment.

Just like before, Silvio carried me with one arm.

Emma: "No, wait."

Emma: "Rio, what did you just say?"

Rio: "Are you making me say those cruel words to him again?"

Emma: "No, that's not it. Let me repeat."

Emma: "Did you just say Prince Silvio has completely become a dog tamed by me?"

Rio: "That's right. The merchants who were present at the last meeting are spreading the rumor that this flirt is your dog."

Rio: "Not just the merchants, even the servants in the castle are all saying the same thing, calling him a dog."

Rio: "But it's true, right? Lately, this guy has been clinging to you constantly, never leaving your side."

Rio: "He's been doing everything for you like a dog."

Rio: "I'm so jealous. I want to become your dog, too!"

Rio: "Hey, can I also become your pet?"

Silvio: "Idiot. I'm not generous enough to allow multiple pets."

Rio: "Stingy!"

Silvio: "Shut up! You better go do your official duties!"

Rio: "Don't get carried away just because you became Emma's dog!"

Silvio: "Stop barking, you damn dog!"

(...........)

(What should I do!? If Silvio continues to be ridiculed like this, I don't think I can tolerate it.)

Part 1╎Premium╎Epilogue╎Special Story

[americas1suiteheart]

Had this idea a little while back and decided to go on with it! Tell me how you guys feel about it.

Kleptomaniacs

[Tangerine x Kleptomaniac! Reader]

[Summary; You've been working with the twins for a good while now, and all whilst knowing them you've bonded with them through similar interests. For Lemon, Thomas the Tank Engine, and on the other hand as for Tangerine and you - kleptomania..]

[Notes; You've got a code name, so there's no use of Y/n but know that your "Citron," (When I tried to post this after finishing it up, tumblr gave out on me and deleted it completely off the face of the internet so I had to write it again. Thanks Tumblr)]

[Warnings; Swearing, Stealing, it's a Bullet Train fanfic what do you expect?]

"God are you guys seriously fuckin' doing this shit again? You guys are gonna get caught one day doing that and you two are gonna be fucked y'know that right?" Lemon groans.

You and Tangerine made a game to see how much shit you could steal before chickening out. You can't do anything worse than killing people for money so you two figured, why the hell not?

"Fuck off Lem," You and Tangerine say at the same time dismissing him.

"Citron, I think you've officially spent too much time with Tan."

"Hey you can't say shit Lem, you've brainwashed Citron here into thinking of people in terms of fuckin' Thomas the Train characters you twat," Tangerine says, sneaking a pack of sweets into his suit jacket.

"Don't say shit about Thomas the Tank Engine, and dont call me a twat, you're the right fuckin' twat you ass," Lemon says, pointing a finger at Tangerine.

"Will you two stop acting like children? I spend too much time with the both of you, and you've both got qualities that are fuckin' annoying, the both of you are twats." You groan, taking multiple trinkets and small toys and shoving them into your pocket.

"Fucks sake mate, your taking the fuckin' children's toys?"

"I can take what I want Lem, piss off," You hiss.

This is typically how you three interacted with eachother. Lots of bickering and cussing at eachother, almost like teenagers that just learned a new cuss word

You'd figured with the boys it was just how they talked being that they were siblings and grew up together. I mean, you had siblings too but you never talked that way with them. Maybe it was just the way they were raised.

But with you, maybe you started acting like them and having the same behaviour after knowing them for so long. You hadn't acted like this before you met them.

You and Tangerine had finally gotten your rush from taking things and you three left the store, walking to your car given to you guys for the mission.

"Alright, start countin' everything you have," You say, getting everything out of all of your pockets and such.

"You guys have a fuckin' problem, I've said it multiple times and I'll say it again. You need to fuckin' see someone about that shit." Lemon shakes his head disappointingly at you two.

You and Tangerine ignore him as to not loose count of your stolen items.

The two of you finally finish, then looking at eacother and saying what you had in total. "32," You smirk, overly confident you had more.

But you already know you've lost when a cheeky smile appears on Tangerine's face, "47."

Your mouth hangs agape, staying quiet for at least 20 seconds. That's the most either of you had ever taken the four years you've known eachother so far.

"The worst part is that most of that shit is just sweets," Lemon says breaking the silence.

"Fuck off Lem," Tangerine hisses.

"Got a sweet tooth eh?" You chuckle, poking fun at him.

"I aint got no fuckin' sweet tooth, the sweets just so happened to be the easiest and least childish things to steal." Tangerine says, turning on the car.

Tan always liked to uphold this "tough manly guy," sort of figure. For example, when you're at a petrol station market and you and Lemon are over getting sugary drinks such as pop or juice, you best believe Tan would be getting water or a black coffee calling you two children.

"And sweets aren't childish?" Lemon raises his eyebrow.

"I didn't even get them for me you fuckin' bellend, I know you two like that sugary shit." Tangerine says.

"Wow, when did Gordon become an Edward," You say, giving Tangerine a cheeky grin.

Tangerine just sighs in defeat, knowing you and Lemon will end up teasing him just to mess with him the rest of the time regardless.

The ride back to the hotel was fairly calm, you and Lemon eating the stolen sweets and showing off the small toys you took as well, when you suddenly remembered something else you'd gotten for the both of them at another shop.

"Lemon, can you hand me that bag right there please?" You say, pointing to the small, blue bag next to him.

Lemon nods and hands you the bag from the back, you reaching over to grab it from his hands.

You take out a small plastic wrapped Thomas The Tank Engine phone charm and hand it to Lemon.

Lemon's face immediately lights up as he takes it out of its packaging, putting it on his phone and fiddling with it.

"Got this for you too, Tan," You say, turning to him and handing him a small satin bag.

"You steal this too?" Tangerine says, glancing at the bag before returning his eyes to the road.

"No, no. I actually bought that, I don't steal sentimental gifts I give, I'm not a fuckin' monster," You say, putting your hand on your chest in fake offense.

Tangerine gives you a judgemental glance.

"What is it?" He asks, still holding the small bag in his hand.

"Open it,"

Tangerine smiles and opens the bag with one hand, taking out a silver and blue colored star engraved ring.

"Its a promise ring. I saw it in a shop and figured we should get matching ones. I hope its your size, I kinda just guessed," You say, showing him your right hand that the ring was on.

"This is lovely, darling. Thank you.." Tangerine says with a loving smile, quickly putting it on his right hand with all of his other rings.

"You two are just right fuckin' sops for eachother it's sickeningly sweet," Lemon says, a cheeky grin on his face.

Tangerine mumbles something both you and Lemon couldn't hear, though by the tone it was very clearly not anything nice.

After a while longer, you three finally make it back to the hotel, Lemon checks all of you in and you all walk up to your hotel room.

As soon as you get in Lemon sets his stuff down and heads to the restroom for a shower, leaving you and Tangerine alone with eachother as you two unpack your bags.

"Tangerine?" You speak out, turning to look at Tangerine who was putting his clothes into the bottom drawer of the hotel room dresser.

"Yes, love?" Tangerine says.

"Thank you. For staying with me even when we go through all this shit. It's stressful and keeping relationships has never been easy for me with this job, you're the only one that's stayed this long and I want to let you know how grateful I am for it." You say, putting what you were doing aside so you could talk to him without any distractions.

Tangerine's head perks up a bit, then turning to look at you.

He smiles sweetly and walks over to you, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

"Darling, you have no clue how happy I am that you've stayed with me the same. I know I can be difficult at times as well," Tangerine said, voice barely above a whisper.

You rarely ever get to see a softer side of Tan, but when you do you try to savor it as much as possible.

"You guys, are fuckin' disgusting. What I just saw there was right fucking nasty." Lemon says, standing in front of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Fuck off Lem."

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

[Quick Authors Note! Sorry I haven't gotten to these requests and other stuff these past few months, I've been busy and have had other stuff get in the way. I know this isn't much but I'm trying to clean up my drafts.

[captainjacklyn]

Can I make a request a headcanon of Riddle, Vil's, Jamil's and Azul's reaction to finding out that their romantic partner is a direct descendant of the Great Seven? (Like the ones who found and made their dorms?)

Male or Female Yuu/MC/Reader/Y/N please and thank you!

What a wonderful ask, my friend ! I apologize for making this so late, I hope that you will still enjoy reading these head canons if you are still out there. I'll be using gender neutral reader since I wanted everyone to enjoy it but if you wish for a male/female reader only, send in a request and I'll get right to it !

Pairing(s) : vil schoenheit x reader, jamil viper x reader, Azul ashengrotto x reader, riddle rosehearts x reader

Warning(s) : gn!reader, may have some cursing, they/them pronouns are used but gender isn't mentioned, reader is a merfolk in Azul's part (cause you know- Ursula is a mermaid..), also they act similar to their ancestors.

Jamil, Vil, Riddle and Azul finding out that their partner is a descendant of one of the great sevens :

Riddle Rosehearts

When Riddle first met you, he didn't think much of it. Sure you were quite commanding and respected the rules of his dorms very well (which he appreciated) but he just thought it was your personality and nothing more.

When he found you looking at the Queen of Heart's statue, he was surprised to see dissatisfaction on your face. You appeared a little bothered and as your partner he wished to make sure his s/o was alright.

"Is everything ok my Rose ? You seem a little out of your element."

"Ah Riddle, no I'm all good I'm simply thinking about certain things concerning my ancestor."

"Oh, and who are they ?"

"The one I'm looking at right now."

....

WhAt-

he wasn't expecting that, honestly, it feels like a bucket of ice got dropped on his head. Since she is seen in such a positive light in Night Raven College, he will start asking you about her.

"Oh she was a tyrannical queen, absolutely insane with no moral whatsoever. The only traditions we pass down in the family are the rules and leadership qualities, those are taught to the kids at a young age. I never admired her, not once. Sometimes rules didn't even need to be broken for her to cut someone's head off. If she was in front of me, breathing, at this exact moment I would give her a taste of her own medicine."

...

He didn't expect that, not once did he think of it that way. What was pictured to be a righteous royal turned out to be someone who beheaded people for a yes or a no.

It doesn't change what he thinks about you, you are your own person and what your ancestor did is unforgivable.

he's just stunned, and maybe a bit more proud of being your significant other.

Vil Schoenheit

You and Vil are the star couple of NRC, people literally turn blind when they look at the both of you. Dazzled with glam and beauty I swear to god-

He's glad he doesn't have to constantly shout at you for being reckless and ruining your eyeshadow. Not like some people

You were the perfect visual depiction of a queen/king/royal, I imagine you two walking down the school hallway and a red carpet spawns out of nowhere for the both of you to walk on.

Aphrodite has favorites.

You take good care of your appearance, no matter the special/ so called 'unusual' features you carry, you still manage to appear even more wonderful than the Fairest Queen herself.

Rook stalks you follows you around a lot. He would gush at you everyday as you sat in front of the mirror and prepared yourself for the day.

He does this to Vil as well and y'all consider this normal at this point. If you don't, then get prepared to be spooked all the time. Like...all the time.

"My my [Nickname], you look especially splendid today ! Not like you aren't usually, but you managed to make your beauty shine even more than it already was !"

"Well I am the Fairest Queen's great-great-great-great granddaughter/son/child after all."

"..."

"Pardon me."

"Where did that come from ? Orchidia was that in the script-"

Rook will tell Vil immediately, it isn't like it will affect your relationship in any way, he just thinks its a very interesting fact about you.

He may or may not flatter himself with it, but even if you weren't, your beauty does shine without an ancestor to prove it.

Jamil Viper

You are an amazing tactician, I mean, you were capable of coming up with a plan to stop kalim from burning down the dorm 10 days before it had the possibility of taking place.

And let's not ignore your persuasive abilities, you don't even need unique magic to have 200 students do what you want.

You and Jamil are one manipulative pair, but at least you have good morals. Kinda wishing you were there during the entirety of chapter 4 because it would have been over in one episode with no overblot happening at all.

Wether you scold him after finding out is your choice, but if it does happen don't be too harsh about it, his mind is little coo-coo at the moment.

So much that the only thing he catches you saying is :

"...And I don't want you turning into my great-great-great-great uncle simply because things didn't go your way. He was one manipulative and deceiving *sshole who I wish was never related to me at all. He was smart but for the wrong reasons, you are so much better than the sorcerer of sands Jamil ! I know it, and if anyone or anything is bothering you, I expect a full ranting session from your part-" "Wait you're related to the sorcerer of sands ?"

"...."

"Did you hear anything else about what I said ?"

"To be honest..."

"No."

Well that went well.

He is genuinely impressed and a little disappointed about the fact that the very man who represents his dorm is a huge traitor.

You're the one to talk- Lady Orchidia please calm down

He understands what you mean but his perception on Kalim won't change so if you're friends with the guy he stresses over everyday than you're gonna have to learn to live with it.

I repeat, it doesn't change your love for one another, except this time he'll be watching his back a little more. Knowing your advantage against him.

He's soft for you ngl

Azul Ashengrotto

Who are you and why are you so cute together-

Octopus lovers. Oh my god this is too much.

Orchidia you still need to finish the fanfic Shut your mouth and let me die, I finally found my reason to sleep forever.

You will probably have to be a mermaid/man/folk due to your origins but your appearance is your choice cause I'm too lazy to give you one also I have no idea what you look like.

You are once again amazing at convincing people into obeying your orders and both loves and fears your skill.

You are also is source of confidence and pride, if you can be happy in your original fish form than so can he (you just gotta tell him that often.)

He'll find out during a normal conversation where the two of you are in his office as he's arranging the contracts and listening to you talk about your day.

"Oh and did you know my family is related to the sea witch ? I know it's crazy to believe but-" "YOU'RE RELATED TO THE BENEVOLENT SEA WITCH ?!" "Yes...?" *runs up to you and shoves contract in your face* "Please marry me."

He is very happy and very excited, acting like a fan who gets to meet his idol for the first time in person.

He thought highly of you before, now it's through the stars. get it ? cause he thought highly of you ? damnit I suck at jokes.

He's willing to hear you talk about your ancestor for hours and hours, she is his role model after all.

Finds himself very lucky to be with you, even prior to your declaration. You two are just adorable- SQUISHY OCTOPUS !

[sergeifyodorov]

would u do a little analysis of how each team has done so far this season … i trust ur opinions so much

EACH team okay... under the cut bc i am not subjecting the masses to 32 nasty little thots cody edition

Bruins: RIP patrice of course but the bruins are steamrolling as ever... i think that if there is any evidence of the universe simply not caring abt good things it is that the bruins slip and stumble and have some of their best players retired and still manage to put up a 50 win season every year. <- salty leafs fan but ANYHWAY the bruins are easily a Playoff Team. simply "there" 5v5, strong power play, they make their money off finishing (pastrnak you filthy animal) and goaltending (swaymark you filthy animals). they have been trending downwards of late so i'm not entirely sure of like their final standings place but with this kind of head start they're staying up.

Sabres: currently in what we the people call a "decade of darkness." might be a "two decades of darkness" if we're going to be honest. the active player with the most playoff points with the sabres is tyler myers. 7 points. yeah the tall one most famous for having a subreddit that posts the gamescore card every time he's on the bottom of the gamescore card. sabres are really hard to fix because their first real step to contention is "hoping devon levi turns out really good." not promising. bad enough that by selling a piece or two celebrini is in sight. maybe that'll help? a third 1OA?

Red Wings: presenting the mid-season Season Ruining Unforced Error Award early by saying: not that they were going to be as good as their first few games of sniping suggested, but signing patrick kane tanked any realistic hope they have of playoffs. is patrick kane good? he's actually alright. maybe this time the surgery worked. is the team made better by having him on it? it surely isn't! a few REALLY BADLY TIMED dylan larkin based misfortunes have made it go from bad to worse. they were in A2 like a month ago and now they're Out. strengths: finishing. weaknesses: everything else, including morale.

Panthers: okay you've probably clocked this by now but ive been Generally Salty so far and that is bc a) im easily tempted to haterhood and b) currently discussing each team in the atlantic which does nothing to make me less Tempted To Haterhood. that being said the panthers are Good and For Real About It. they can do everything except finish chances, which is fine when the other team has way fewer chances than you and your goalie doesn't let any of them in. fuck ALLL the way off. place your bets on these guys having a deep playoff run. cross your fingers for them not having a deep playoff run i can't stand chuckyposting again it's RAN ITS COURSE. (also: machuk is probably still injured and absolutely Not doing as well as he did the last few seasons. maybe because he's just not that kind of guy but it's probably at least mostly the broken chest thing)

Canadiens: they are bad EXCEPT when it comes to overtime + the shootout. also much like the sabres they're going nowhere fast. i expect at least one of their goalies to be gone at the deadline... furthermore i think ppl who are ragging on slaf's slow development are simply expecting all 1OAs to be like an auston or a connor type (pick your connor) where they come in and immediately adapt -- slaf rings very reminiscent of quinton byfield to me, who was picked 2OA in 2020 and is only now starting to break out. give him time he's a baby...

Senators: despite how much literally everyone talks up all their players constantly, they are not good either. like the sabres or the habs... atlantic is 4 teams in the genuine hunt, 3 teams who suck and have sucked forever and will suck forevermore, and the red wings who haven't made up their minds yet. the sens actually Do have a singular Biggest Problem though and that's goaltending, but they're not a good enough team otherwise that getting a quality goaltender is going to make them playoffs worthy, especially not in the very short (this-season) run.

Lightning: the lightning are weird to me because like i think they're still making up their mind as A People what they want to do. kucherov is the best player in the league rn, this is stamkos' ufa season and he hasn't been offered an extension, vasilevskiy is back and vasying his levskiy... i fully believe they have the capability of getting a playoff spot, maybe even A3 if they want. we've all seen them in the playoffs, we know how they can turn ~It~ on at will. as always they're a deeply mid 5v5 team powered by very strong special teams... the goaltending numbers say goaltending is shit but they've been playing in front of the genuinely unplayable jonas johansson most of the season so i think it'll be fine.

Maple Leafs: as the team ive watched the moast i can talk about these guys for evar so for all of our sanities i will be brief: Auston Matthews, Baby, Look At Him, That's Auston, Auston Motherfucking "Sexy Mustached Bitch" Matthews!!!!!!! powered by an extremely strong power play and very good offence, and defence and goaltending that is held together by Morgan Rielly and a dream. possibly the only reason they're in a playoff spot is the fact that martin jones didn't get claimed on waivers three months ago and i am being dead serious about that. for some reason they're at their best when they're down by two. they do really need both their #1 goalie to come back from injury and to make a splash for a genuine nhl-calibre defenceman, but they're stubbornly determined to win games even through nasty flu.

Hurricanes: their usual selves -- analytics darlings, can't buy a goal. this year they can't buy a save either -- Freddie is out with a medical condition, Raanta is straight up not good, and Kochetkov is... well, he's Kochetkov. they're not far out of a spot but they'll need a hot hand if they want to get comfy... which i don't expect, frankly. they're good enough to make the playoffs, but they're not really a team that goes on heaters, so they'll be bubble until the end.

Blue Jackets: genuinely not sure they know what they're doing like... okay. from an outside pov they are obviously Tanking. they're bad in every way that matters except for finishing and the standings show it. but also like... they're at the point in their development cycle where they shouldn't be tanking... or at least are on the verge of Shouldn't Be Tanking. and again, because they don't know what they're doing, they hired mike babcock for this... if they know what they're doing they'll toss kekalainen as soon as they can and, following this year's draft, start Fighting. but let's be real i doubt that. adam fantilli it's your time to shine... sorry sweetheart!

Devils: see Hurricanes. Great on paper, can't buy a save. They've obviously been stunted by Timo, J'accuse, and Nico all being injured at various points, but goaltending is their biggest and most solvable problem. Unlike the Hurricanes, though, the Devils are fully capable of going on a heater, so the gap between them and WC2 isn't as big as it looks (probably.) Luke Hughes is going to be something special.

Rangers: Looks like Lafreniere is finally getting his feet under him -- but the Rangers have always been far more about getting old, known players to get a second wind with them than they've been about prospect development, and Quick and Wheeler are both showing this pretty definitively. Another one of those teams that's run by special teams and finishing/goaltending. Easy playoff spot, likely solid run. Nothing too interesting here.

Islanders: On the other hand, the Isles are interesting because... like... how did they get There? They have a negative goal differential, for heaven's sake! Their special teams are godawful, their defence is a sieve, they blow leads like that's what actually gets you points in this league, and they're somehow second in the Metropolitan??????? Is it Horvat? Barzal? Sorokin? (It's probably Sorokin.) They'll make the playoffs but i doubt they'll succeed in them.

Flyers: This one's also weird. They have the power play and offence of a peewee team in the big leagues, but have become defensively Actually Super Competent and are somehow good because of this? I'm going to theorize -- because you've asked me to but also because I really want to -- that this is due, at least in part, to somewhat of an inverse Kane-on-the-Red-Wings effect from their offseason removal of Provorov and DeAngelo; without them, the team is now not only better defensively on paper but also better as a team in the locker room. They're [uncle voice] playing with heart now! I doubt they're a real contender, but I think they might actually make playoffs.

Penguins: ...this one's also weird. They're good on paper. Like, really good on paper? Defensively "just okay" but offensively great, goaltending is fantastic, special teams are shutdown. They just can't buy a goal and they can't buy a good sequence.

Capitals: This one's weird, too, but in the opposite way -- aside from the power-play, the Caps are actually godawful on paper, especially when it comes to finishing (because when Ovechkin takes such a high percentage of your shots but he isn't scoring, your team REALLY suffers) but somehow they've managed to pinpoint sequencing luck (win close, lose ugly) and are somehow in WC1. Do I think they'll make the playoffs? Absolutely not -- if either the Devils or Canes step up, the Caps are the odd man out -- but it might be fun to see them try. Or hell, I hope they win-close-lose-ugly their way to a goddamn Cup final. Would be funny as fuck for Ovi's second-longest ever playoff run to come at the fresh young age of thirty-eight. Dude looks ragged out there. I'm going to shut up now before I start talking about finding him sexy

Coyotes: Simple on paper: bad at running play, good goaltending and finishing. Essentially what the Canucks are doing at a smaller scale. The Leafs should never have let Kerfoot walk and I mean that unironically. Okay, anyway, the Yotes are a bubble team and won't make higher than WC1 because of the logjam at the top of the Central, but holy fuck do I want them to make WC1 (or a playoff spot in general.) People ask "how can we grow the game" a lot, and when it comes to what the NHL can do directly, the number one biggest thing is win in small markets. Arizona has already created one of the sports' biggest stars -- Auston! -- and it's an absolutely massive TV market and a potential hotbed of new fans and new, great players. Arizona making a playoff spot -- or even better, going on a run -- would be amazing for the NHL. And it would be funny. And I would like that.

Blackhawks: shoutout to dave !!! dave who works for the hawks!!! anyway the hawks are very obviously tanking and good at it. Their only real point of interest is their Sacred Child, and holy fuck is their Sacred Child going to absolutely fucking smash it when he's given a team that's not entirely made up of scrubs. i think his analytics, especially his defensive numbers, are, like, fine? but accounting for his leverage (all situations, especially the difficult ones), his teammates (his best linemate is Anthony Beauvillier, and tito... is a third liner), and the fact that he's all of eighteen, he's definitely on track to be a Real Force. i kinda love him... okay moving on.

Avalanche: All-over good: finishing their biggest obvious strength, but hockeywise they don't have any real weaknesses... although there is some serious Drama brewing in that locker room and i think it might just be getting started. with landeskog gone for at least until the end of this year (and possibly forever) and ej a sabre, there is absolutely no one in there capable of actually emotionally running a team: makar lacking in a leader's magnetism, rantanen an idiot, toews and mackinnon far too high-strung and competitive, and no one else with seniority. they're a good enough team that it's not really affecting them right now, but ... i don't know, i can kind of feel it coming. They'll make the playoffs, but when the pressure is on they'll either step up or completely fall apart.

Stars: See above: all-over good, but saving their biggest obvious weakness. I think most of this is spurred by Otter being out -- Wedgewood is a serviceable backup goaltender, but obviously not capable of being a real starter, and the team is stuttering because of it. I doubt it'll be for long or too much difficulty (they're a good defensive team, so it's not going to affect them a lot, but they might lose a game or two they might have won with Otter, especially if he's out for a while), but it's going to keep them from taking a step on top of the Central. Easy playoff team, probable contender.

Wild: They are bad! Penalty kill is their worst weakness, but they're not great in goal either and the combination is kicking their ass. As much as I respect how well they've done with that giant cap-space penalty from the Parise/Suter buyouts all those years ago, it's... kind of time to throw in the towel. Get Flower those final few wins, because by god are they devoid of much other success. Right at the tail of a competitive arc. RIP. Tank incoming.

Predators: Weirdly good, even though Saros hasn't been his usual self? O'Reilly esp has been an absolutely fantastic addition for the team over the offseason. No huge strengths, no significant weaknesses. Not an amazing offensive team, but it's Nashville so they were never going to be -- the place practically breeds defensive forwards and all-around dmen. I don't expect they'll seriously contend, but they'll make the playoffs (unless someone offers the farm for Saros).

Blues: I genuinely think so little about the Blues .... that whole thing with Jordan Kyrou has been the most I've thought about them for a bit. That and the fact that only three of their games haven't been decided by the first goal? They're not good and they're really boring. Yeehaw.

Jets: THE JETS let's get JUICY. Jets' biggest strengths by far are a) 5v5 defence and b) finishing/goaltending. Even with Kyle Connor out they're sniping and Hellebuyck and Brossoit are both absolutely on it. The Jets have always seemed to have this problem where on paper (take a shot every time I've written "on paper" in this post if you want to die of alcohol poisoning) they seem fantastic, then January onwards they absolutely plummet. And it's not January yet, so that might still happen, but that kind of thing tends to happen because of a dramatic morale shift, and now that Lowry's captain and Wheeler's left for New York... that might not happen? They've banked enough points that unless they're historically bad from here on out they're still a playoff team. If they keep up what they have going so far, they're a contender, but if it's the same Winnipeg with the same problems, then they're not.

Ducks: Taking a step in the right direction with Carlsson and Mintyukov, but still bad! I really hope Carlsson recovers well, he seems like a sweet boy. Also: what on Earth are they doing with Zegras. Is he a defenceman now? Are they making him play defence? Are he and Dixie D'Amelio still dating? I have many questions. I just hope whichever high draft pick they get is an idiot. I feel like they need another dumbass baby on the team.

Flames: The Flames also appear to have no idea what's going on. And frankly, neither do I! They're too good to be obviously tanking, but not near good enough to be a bubble team. They're definitely reluctant to sell, but their best hope to win soon absolutely should be selling. They have one of the worst contracts in the league on their payroll (wow... I hope the guy in charge of my favourite team didn't sign that!) and a bunch of really solid late-round picks and prospects cutting their teeth on the NHL. In short: they aren't going to make the playoffs and should be leaning into that, but they don't seem to have realized this yet.

Oilers: For the sake of not gloating, I'm going to sum this one up with a Marek quote: If you have a goalie, it's 70% of your team. If you don't, it's 100%. They've had finishing trouble, but considering they absolutely run the show at 5v5 AND special teams (they put nearly SIXTY SHOTS on Vasilevskiy the other day) a little finishing shouldn't be quite so dangerous if they didn't have two sieves minding the net. McDavid might hit 150 again and the Oil might still miss the playoffs. If they get in, they're going far, but at this point it'll be tough as fuck to make it in.

Kings: Average penalty kill. No other weaknesses. Kopitar 4 Selke.

Sharks: This is an absolutely glorious tankjob. No other way to put it. This is the pinnacle of tank design. This is the Wayne Gretzky of tankjobs. This is the Casablanca of tankjobs. This is the Saturn V of tankjobs. Nothing has been so beautifully engineered to suck since Sir James Dyson patented his vacuum or Nancy Reagan walked the earth. It's beautiful. It's gorgeous. I am in awe. They deserve Celebrini purely because of how flawless the tank is. I don't care if he has a warm undertone and would look pink in that fantastic teal. The boy needs San Jose.

Kraken: Good defensively at 5v5, bad pretty much everywhere else. I'm going to be honest with you all, last year was kind of a flash in the pan -- Seattle isn't great and they're neither headed upwards nor downwards. Not a bubble team, probably won't pick top ten. They haven't decided whether or not to build up or tank. Beyond the fantastic aesthetics and four-unranked-lines shtick, they don't really have a whole lot of competitive mojo: no star forwards, no goaltending. Wholeheartedly mid.

Canucks: oH BABY!!!!! The 23-24 Canucks made us all learn what PDO is. The 23-24 Canucks are first in the motherfucking league after being one spot out of being in the Bedard lottery. The 23-24 Canucks are on track to have the best shooting and saving percentage in league history. The 23-24 Canucks' leading goalscorer is Brock Boeser, the guy they've almost traded practically every year since they drafted him. The 23-24 Canucks started the season by naming the Wettest Little Man On The Planet captain and they haven't looked back since. I think they're an easy lock for a playoff spot -- but within the playoffs, do I know what they're going to do? I absolutely do not. They could PDO their way to a Cup or they could bow out in four games flat. Either is equally likely. They have thoroughly embraced Good Chaos. Quinn Hughes might win the Hart. Everything's coming up Vancouver.

Golden Knights: Not as good as they were last year. Ultimately still pretty good. Easy playoff spot. Definite contender. Jack Eichel is better than ever and I love him for it, the dickhead.

[bunnys-kisses]

wash away the residue - astarion ancunin

pairing: astarion ancunin x fem!reader rating: 18+ summary: Astarian was a generous lover. Maybe not in certain ways, but when it came to being intimate with you, he thought you deserved all the pleasure he could give you. It started at camp on a warm afternoon. Astarian kept close by as you washed your clothes in the nearby river. He knew that when you cleaned your clothes it left you nude for a little while they dried. So Astarian had to make sure that you were safe tags: pwp, forest/outdoor sex, oral sex/fingering, cowgirl position, 2.3k of smut join my discord

Astarian was a generous lover. Maybe not in certain ways, but when it came to being intimate with you, he thought you deserved all the pleasure he could give you. It started at camp on a warm afternoon. Astarian kept close by as you washed your clothes in the nearby river. He knew that when you cleaned your clothes it left you nude for a little while they dried. So Astarian had to make sure that you were safe.

He had an affinity for you, he thought you were simply beautiful. There was a stunning quality to you both in battle and in casual endeavors. It made him ache. How he’d love to reach out and kiss you. To fuck you, to have a sweet taste of your blood.

But for now he’d stick close to the tree line and protect from a distance. And since he was there, he’d enjoy the view.

You sat at the edge of the river, the water was slow moving. You took your time lathering your skin with the bar of soap you carried with you. You made sure to get every last inch of skin. After the fights you’d been having, it was nice to wash away the grime. You did hate how cold it was however, unlike the warm water of the inns in town.

Your hands dipped between your legs to wash and you let out a small moan. It had been too long since you had been intimate with someone and it wasn’t since the last town that you had touched yourself. So any amount of attention to your pussy made you feel tingly all over.

Your clothes were nearby drying on a large rock. The sun beamed down on you through the trees as you put the soap to the side and got into the river. It was cold, but refreshing against the afternoon air.  You heard a branch snap and you quickly turned around to see where it was coming from.

  “Astarian?” You asked as you looked at him with wide eyes.

  “Oh, hello darling. I didn’t expect to see you here.” He said a little nervously. He cleared his throat, “How are you?”

You turned around fully to face him with your hands to your chest, “I’m alright. How did you find me? I thought I was far enough away from camp.”

He chuckled, “Well, I was looking for firewood and ended up a little farther than I hoped for. I promise I wasn’t peeping.” He stepped forward with a smile, “You look beautiful if I do say so myself. Do you… Need a little help?”

Your eyes went to the soap then back to him, “I did all the washing already. But I don’t mind you keeping me company.” You smiled at him and put your hands down to expose your breasts to him.

The thought of littering your skin with his bites made him excited. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants as he moved further from the tree line and towards you, “You don’t mind me seeing all of your beauty, darling?”

  “I mean, I think all of the party has seen each other naked before. There isn’t anything you haven’t seen before.” You said before you put your head under the cold water to get the soap out of your hair. When you emerged again, droplets of water streamed down your body and back to the water.

You looked back at him and he looked at you with his eyes wide. In that moment it clicked together, Astarian found you arousing. He thought what was before him was beautiful, that your body was beautiful. You got the rest of the suds off your body before you climbed out of the river and headed towards him. Your hips swayed as you approached him.

  “What are you looking at, Astarian?” You asked as you reached down his shirt.

He swallowed, “Well, you see…” His eyes looked down at the tops of your breasts.

You chuckled softly, “Does the suave rouge want me? Were you really looking for firewood, or were you looking for a peek?”

He placed his hands on your shoulders and pulled you close to him. He leaned in and kissed you passionately on the lips. He held onto your wet shoulders as he felt your front wet his shirt. When he pulled away, he admitted, “It would be an honor.” The last word held on his tongue and caused you to shiver.

You covered your mouth as you laughed then took his hand back to the river. You laid out on the rock beside your wet clothes and pulled him in for another searing kiss. You hooked a bare leg around his waist as the kiss deepened. You felt your back grow warm from the heat of the rock.

  “Please, let me.” He said as he pulled away. He was out of breath as he pushed the hair out of his eyes, “Let me make you feel good.” He pulled away from you and got between your legs. His body felt warm as he placed his hands on your thighs.

You swallowed anxiously as you felt the first licks at your clit. Your toes curled and wanted to close your legs, but Astarian prevented that. He made sure they were wide open. You covered your mouth with your hand so as to not alert the rest of your party. The last thing he needed to see was the two of them in such a compromising position.

  “mmm, you like that don’t you? How my tongue feels on your sweet sex. I bet no man has ever made you feel this way before.” He said as he gazed at your inner thigh with his fangs. You jumped but he kept you pinned to the rock, “Now don’t go running away. I want to devour you.” then continued to lick at your clit. His cock was hard and heavy in his pants as he pleasured you.

  “Ah! Astarian!” You yelped, but your hand muffled most of the noise.

The sounds of the forest were all around you as he ate you out. As he pleasured you with his tongue. From the sound of the river, to the chirping of birds, and the gentle breeze. Soon your other hand went down to his hair and held onto the white locks. You panted against your hand as you felt the pleasure move through your body.

Your heart raced, you felt your legs stiffen and your toes curl. He was devouring you and savoring every last lick. You held onto him as you let your noises go through the forest. As you sank deeper into pleasure you didn’t care who heard you. It would be quite the story if someone found you. You crossed your ankles onto his back as he continued to orally pleasure you.

  “That’s it, darling. Your sounds are so beautiful.” He purred.

  “Please, Astarian. Ah! It feels so good!” You moaned.

He groaned against your soft pussy and then continued to suck at your thighs as he worked his fingers inside of you. He played with your clit with his thumb which made you moan louder. Paired with the simulation of his mouth on your sensitive thighs, you felt like you were on cloud nine. You never imagined that the vampire would have such a way with his tongue in a sexual way.

He began to lick you again as his fingers worked your hole. He felt your thighs inch closer to his face as he pleasured you orally. He was impressed with the noises he was able to pull out of you. He was more proud of himself than anything. He chuckled against your heated flesh.

  “Such a good girl.” He said, his voice muffled by your thighs. He looked up at you from between your legs. He licked across the entirety of your sex as he maintained eye contact.

  “Fuck, Astarian.” You whimpered as you felt the pleasure become overwhelming.

Water clung to your skin as he gripped your thighs. He groaned against your pussy, he panted wildly against it and went back to using those quick fingers to pleasure you once more. He knew that your wetness was all over his face and his hair was a mess. His body felt hot and sweaty with his shirt that was now stuck against his back.

You wrapped your legs around him further with both hands in his soft hair. And with a few more strokes of his tongue, you climaxed.  You held back the moan in your mouth for fear of being too loud. You tensed up for a moment before you relaxed against the warm rock with the sun beaming down on you. Your panted wildly and your bones felt like goo. Your head throbbed from the intense sensation and Astarian rose from between your legs.

He stared down at you with his pupils blown out. His chest was heaving. He then leaned down to your face and deeply kissed you on the lips. He pinned your hands to the rock and deepened the kiss. He pulled away soon after and stared down at you. His erection was fully visible in his pants.

  “Do you mind helping me?” He asked.

You gazed up at him, still coming down from your high. You smiled at him, “Of course, I’d be honored.” Then leaned up to kiss him once more. You pulled him back down to him and rolled him onto his back. You held his face for a moment, “You owe me another bath after this.”

  “Of course, my love.” He said with a smile, “Anything for you.” Then started to get his cock out of his pants.

It was a quick endeavor to get his hard cock into your slick pussy. All of the wetness between your legs provided effective lubrication for your sexual escapade on the rock. He held onto your hips to guide the pace as you started to roll your hips. You placed both hands on the rock by his head for support as you felt the man’s cock moving in and out of you.

  “That’s it.” He said almost lovingly.

  “It feels amazing.” You moaned, “Who knew having sex with your smart ass would be so good.”

He quickly slapped your ass, “Darling, you better watch your tongue. Or I’ll put something in there to shut it up.” His firm tone made a shiver run through you. He watched your breast jiggle as you rode him, which only aroused him further. You looked good on top of him and the idea that there was a world of sexual positions you could find yourself in excited him.

Because now that he had a taste for your flesh, he knew nothing else would ever satisfy him.

Your bodies moved together as you felt the rush of pleasure move through your bodies. The sex felt exciting. You moved as fast as you could, the sound of flesh hitting flesh in the afternoon sun. Your stomach flipped as you felt the intense heat of pleasure. Your breathing was ragged and your pulse raced. You felt the water on your skin still but slowly getting dried from the sun.

You leaned in to kiss him once more in an effort to muffle your noises as you two humped against one another. Your pussy clenched around his cock as you moved up and down on it. The kiss was hot between you two. It was mixed in with pleasurable noises of sex. When you pulled away you gazed into his eyes and pushed the hai out of your face.

  “You are divine.” He said almost breathless, “My darling, you are the most divine woman I have ever seen. I find myself growing addicted to you. I hope you know that this will not be the end of intimacy between us.”

You nodded, “Of course, Astarian. You make me feel so good.”

He grabbed at your ass and hips as he met your pace. His breathing was heavy as the two of you fucked in the middle of the woods. You were certain it was more common than you thought, but the idea of being so vulnerable out here was a big turn on for you. You kissed him once more in a heated exchange. You breathed heavily through your nose as you worked his body.

You knew you were going to be dead on your feet after this, but you had Astarian to make sure that you were clean. After all he caused the mess in the first place, it was the last he could do.

  “Fuck.”

  “I know.”

You two went back to passionately making out under the bright afternoon sun. You could feel your heart racing in your chest as your stomach twisted into knots. The thrill was exciting, unlike anything you had experienced before. Having sex with Astarian was akin to a feeling of utter euphoria. As you broke the kiss, you rested your forehead against his.

The heat between you two was becoming unbearable, you soon needed release. With a few more bucks of your hips. You dug your fingers into your palms as you orgasmed. Your head felt numb for a moment as if you couldn’t form a coherent thought. You swore your mind went blank as Astarian thrusted up into you to meet his own climax. He soon came as well and you both breathed heavily to the sounds of the forest.

  “Holy-“

  “I know.” You panted as you slid off his cock and laid beside him in the sun.

He turned to his side to protect you in his arms. He kissed the top of your head as his breathing started to level out. He said quietly, “Beautiful. You were so good. Maybe tonight we shall sneak away and do it again. I know I’ll be craving you again.”

You knew it as a promise and you knew that you’d need him all the same. You leaned up and kissed him on the jaw as you came down from the high of sex. He grabbed your ass and kissed you once more. You had a feeling you were going to need more than one wash to get rid of the smell of Astarian.

[soulkeeper801]

Untitled - Twice Momo

Requested:  Momo and reader are dating and reader likes being affectionate in public but Momo is only like that in private and always rejects her in public. Then reader starts acting coldly towards her in private too because she thinks Momo is embarrassed to be seen with her in public then they get into a fight but make up at the end

Hirai Momo x f!reader

Angst? Fluff at the end

Words: 1.7k

(A/N: help me witih a title? my brain is empty)

“There’s something on your hair,” you chuckled, seeing how a piece of confetti had landed on your girlfriend’s bangs and was proudly standing in the middle of her forehead, “let me…”, you extended your arm to touch her but were received with an unexpected reaction.

Momo retrieved herself after you tried to fix her hair, looking around nervously as the girls and some staff were in the same room as you both were, waiting for their cars to take them back home.

You were surprised at the way she reacted, but didn’t blame her since she was tired after a long concert. She seemed sleepy and maybe it made her moody.

“I got it,” she said, after looking at herself in the mirror and taking the foreign object from her hair.

Momo noticed you turned sad after her actions and just mumbled, “too many people…”

*

It was a random friday night and their manager told them they had a free weekend since the scheduled shooting got canceled and moved to the following week.

Your heart fluttered at the news since it had been a while since the last time you had quality time with your girlfriend. 

Momo arrived at your place with beer and a pizza to spend the night but was surprised when she saw you dressed up as if you were going out.

“I thought we were going to watch a movie,” she whispered, as her hands engulfed your waist and pulled you closer to her. “I’m not complaining,” she whispered against your hair, “you look stunning”.

You chuckled and let your arms rest on her shoulders, crossing behind her head as you felt her lips tickling your skin. “I know,” you replied, “but what if we go dancing?”

Momo pulled a little bit apart to look at your face. “Dancing?”

“To a club?” you asked.

You knew Momo didn’t like going out that much. She rather stayed home with you, cuddling to a movie and having something to eat, maybe a beer, or two if she was feeling frisky. 

“Do we have to?” she asked as a reply, grimacing at the thought of getting ready since she didn’t expect it at all.

“You never wanna go out with me…” you whispered, sadness appearing in your eyes.

Momo groaned. “Alright, give me twenty minutes and I’ll be ready”.

It took her less than that and you were already on your way to one of the hottest clubs of the city. 

The manager came out exclusively to meet and welcome Momo and made you both go into the VIP section where she found a couple of friends.

“I didn’t know you knew this many people,” you whispered in her ear as your hand rubbed her forearm.

She pulled her arm away.

“Yeah…” she trailed off, not looking comfortable at all. “I’ll get us something to drink”.

You took the chance to look at how she greeted everyone with a big smile on her face even if you knew she wasn’t feeling like that. She refused to take your hand when you arrived and didn’t let you play with her fingers as she always did. 

When she came back with the drinks, you tried to reach her and leave a kiss on her cheek, but Momo quickly retrieved herself and took a look around to see if anyone noticed. Her expression went back to normal as she saw everyone minding their own business.

You sighed, “maybe we should just go back home”.

“Maybe,” she replied, chugging her drink and taking her purse.

You didn’t let her know, but it made you sad knowing that whenever you went out she would never treat you as her girlfriend but only as a friend. The kisses, the handholding, the sweet whispers and stares were only kept between four walls.

*

“To us,” one of the managers said, raising a glass of champagne, “to the girls, the staff and everyone who has worked hard to make this comeback the success it is,” he continued, looking at everyone sitting around the big table filled with delicious food and drinks, “thank you for always doing your best and being the best team. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” everyone replied as the clinging of cups was heard in the room.

The first week of promotions had ended successfully and the company gathered everyone together to celebrate. You were sitting next to Momo, close to the other girls and some staff that you recognized as the stylist and make up artist. They all knew you, so you were invited too.

“Please, eat,” the manager encouraged, passing around the plates for everyone to taste.

Momo took some vegetables and put them on your plate. She specifically took the ones you liked the most.

“Thank you, baby” you whispered, resting your head on her shoulder as you saw how she gave you some rice too.

“Eat,” she simply said, not even turning around to look at you.

You pouted but immediately picked a couple of veggies and offered them to her.

“Oh, Y/N is so sweet!” the stylist cooed when she saw you trying to feed Momo the food you picked for her. 

Momo’s cheeks tinted a slight shade of red at her words. She tapped her plate with her own chopsticks as a sign for you to leave the food there. You did as you were told since Momo didn’t lift her gaze at all and continued to eat.

You didn’t bother her anymore that night.

*

“Morning,” your girlfriend whispered, turning around to face you. Her hands naturally found their way to your waist and caressed your side tenderly.

“Morning,” you replied, turning away to get up. “Want breakfast?”

Momo nodded energetically since she loved when you cooked for her. She also loved to see you wearing her oversized shirts knowing you weren’t wearing anything under it.

“What are you making me?” she asked from the bed, her eyes still tracing your figure.

“Probably cereal,” you simply replied, before stepping out of the room and making your way towards the kitchen.

Momo frowned. It was a sunday morning and those were the days where you would eat only yummy food, things you would especially prepare for each other and look forward to eating the whole week.

She got out of the bed you shared and followed you to the kitchen. Her eyes followed your actions as you reached for a couple of bowls, cereal and milk, poured everything together and placed them on the table.

Momo sat down in silence, maybe a little disappointed. Everyone had bad days and maybe you had woken up in a bad mood. She tried to start a conversation but it got cut short since you pulled your phone and started scrolling, not paying attention to her.

She continued to eat in silence, stealing glances at you from time to time. She knew there was something bothering you, but she couldn’t figure out what it was.

Once you were done, she took the bowls away as you made your way to the couch. She followed you there and tried to wrap her arms around you to bring you to her chest but you quickly stood up, excusing yourself to the bathroom.

Momo felt her heart breaking. 

As soon as you came back, she couldn’t hold it in. 

“I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry, I can’t stand you being this cold with me,” she blurted out, her gaze fixed on the floor and her hands respectfully placed on her lap. 

You sighed at her words. “Feels awful, huh?”

Momo’s gaze redirected to your eyes and was met with sadness. “What…?”

“I’ve noticed you never hold my hand in public or reciprocate my feelings when we’re outside or with your friends,” you said in a whisper, feeling a wave of emotions reminiscing the moments when you felt as if your girlfriend didn’t love you, “I don’t know what to do when I feel like you don’t care”.

Momo trapped your hand in hers and brought it to her lips. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. 

“Sometimes I feel like…” you kept whispering, your eyes filling with tears, “you don’t wanna be seen with me, as if you were embarrassed of what we have…”

Momo felt her heart breaking as your tears fell from your eyes. She wrapped her arms around you and brought you to her, leaving kisses all over your face.

“Don’t ever say that,” she replied, her hands cupping your cheeks as her thumbs wiped the tears away, “this relationship is one of the biggest accomplishments of my life,” she confessed.

Her words made you sob, “then why do you not act like that?”

She pressed her forehead against yours and shook her head as answer to your question. “I’ve never had something as special as this,” she confessed one more time. “I don’t know how to handle a public relationship that I don’t want to mess up”.

You pulled apart to look at her face. You knew very well and knew she was being completely honest with you.

“I don’t know what’s crossing boundaries for us and what we are supposed to do when I know there’s people trying to get a picture of us or do anything to harm our names,” her gaze fell to your lap, “I’m sorry if it made you feel like this, but it’s also the first time for me and I’m learning how to be better for the both of us”.

It was your turn to wrap her in your arms. “Momo, I’m sorry,” you said hurriedly. “I don’t ever want to make you feel pressured about anything. I understand completely what you’re saying. I’m sorry for trying to push you”.

Your girlfriend shook her head as she engulfed your waist with her arms and her head found the crook of your neck. “Don’t be,” she whispered against your skin, “we’re both learning and I guess that’s what this relationship is about”.

You nodded at her words.

“I really see myself with you in the long run, so I don’t want to mess anything up. We’re going to get there eventually. I promise, my love,” she kept whispering against your skin.

It brought a smile to your lips knowing that everything was okay and Momo loved you as much as you loved her. 

[dietmountaindewb8by]

I have finally thought of something! Maybe. I don't know, it just occurred to me. So my idea is that the reader is human and considering how the fae like and enjoy belittling and degrading humans - Cardan included - it could reach a point where reader feels as though she can't do anything correctly. So she just kind of curls into herself and she just feels completely hopeless with everyday life. If it's set before Cardan is king and they're all still in school, then it could be a massive declining in her grades and when she has to eat lunch she just doesn't in fear of being judged for it. I guess Cardan will take advantage of that and make her completely dependant on him. So basically, he's the asshole for making her feel like that in the first place but then he "redeems" himself by claiming he'll look out for her and essentially just takes the reigns on her entire life. Hope you're alright!

hi!

warnings: i’m wicked tired so this might be incoherent; food; mentions of food; allusions to weight loss; bullying; cardan actually being cruel; controlling cardan; cardan kinda treating you like a baby in the end

THE WORLD IS OURS

It was no secret that you were intelligent. More than that. You could be considered a genius by faerie standards, never mind mortal ones. 

But it was no secret that your special quality had left you a long time ago, much like the light in your eyes and the love you held for yourself and the world. Everything had become so bleak with the vile words that dripped from his tongue so easily, every sentence branding itself into your head disturbingly.

At night it was all you could think of. And then, you realized, that he was right. Cardan was right, the disgusting boy who could never seem to leave you alone no matter how much you showed him that you were not worth his time. He only fought harder when he heard that.

You saw him less and less now that you had stopped trying. You hid somewhere in the back when you were in school; you no longer ate with the rest of your peers, instead moving somewhere else to mull over your failure. The death of all things good about you.

Every thought turned sour. Every day became rotten.

And it was all your fault.

~*~

It was no secret that you were his.

He had made it abundantly clear from the beginning. You did not respond well to it, turning him away with the smug look that always sat on your face, the righteousness that always hung around you like a cloak. It was addicting.

You were addicting.

You were lovely and smart and beautiful and you knew it, too. But the air of superiority that he wanted to crack, just slightly to worm his way into your heart, had shattered. His weak, weak human. So fragile, like a flower plucked from the ground.

You no longer ate with them. You no longer studied with them. You no longer smiled or laughed or even cried. He pushed you to your limit–even farther, for you had broken long before. It hurt him more than you would know.

Only when he saw how hollow your cheeks had grown, how dull your eyes had gotten had he realized what he had done, the transgressions he had so carelessly committed. He slammed his door when he had gotten into the castle. He had snapped pens over papers in which he had started letters to you, papers which he had just written your name hundreds upon hundreds of times.

“My sweet angel,” he whispered, tracing the familiar letters of your name over again with his finger, blackened with ink. “I will not allow you to languish. I will atone for my sins just as you have for yours. I swear.”

~*~

You did not expect to see Cardan Greenbriar sitting on your picnic blanket with a basket, free of his usual posse, but not free of a scowl. 

It was not a welcome sight.

“What are you doing?” you asked, looking down your nose at him, lying on his side, lounging in your sanctuary. While it was open, it was still yours. He would not take that too.

“What are you doing?”

“That–I’m sitting down. On my blanket. Yours is over there, Cardan.” Your eyebrows furrowed and your arms crossed defensively. He only smiled, ironically soft. You could not look angry if you tried. You were too tired, too weakened for a show of strength. You knew that better than anyone.

“Nicasia can keep it company. Have you eaten today, darling?” he asked, turning away from you, opening the basket. He put his hand inside, but turned to you before he could. He shrugged, his eyes widening comically. “Well? Sit down, won’t you? Lunch doesn’t last forever, dearest.”

You ignored the pet name, sitting down at his command. Ridiculous, you thought. It was your blanket.

“This is my blanket,” you said again. You mentally slapped yourself. Dumb. No wonder he thought you were dumb.

“I’m well aware of that. Now eat something, won’t you?”

“I’m not hungry.” You were. But you would not eat in front of him. You would not be compared to an animal again.

“I wasn’t asking.”

~*~

Cardan was suffocating. Once upon a time he had despised you. Now he was treating you like he would someone under his care.

At the beginning of the day, just before you left for school, he would be there, holding food and demanding you take his arm. Then, you two would share a blanket during your lessons. His arm would be around your waist and he would ask if you were too cold. Then you two would eat together. There would be more lessons, and then he’d walk you home. He’d leave you with a kiss on the forehead.

But he would not quite leave. Not really.

He would return later in the night. He would spend hours with you. He’d rub your back as you fell asleep. Sometimes, he’d even sleep with you, leaving you in the morning.

He was always there.

You had not known a moment without him. Not a moment without you being taken into his arms, being told that you were the most exquisite creature to roam the Earth, not a moment without his lips leaving your skin.

It needed to end.

~*~

“Cardan, why can’t you just hate me again! It’s suffocating! You despise me, what are you doing?!?”

The crown on his head was tilted, but it did not take away from the poise he oozed. He had given up drinking months before, becoming colder to the world. But he never seemed to not soften when you walked into the room, demanding you sit with him.

“Darling–”

“No. I’m not your darling. You need to stop, King Cardan.”

“You are really referring to me as king when you are queen?” He had stolen the crown that sat atop his head. He had killed off his brothers when they had threatened you. His father died and he had stolen that bloody, jeweled crown. “Stop this nonsense, dear, and sit with me. It’s getting late, and you’re not thinking straight.” He got up from his throne, swiftly moving toward you. He gathered you up in his arms, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Come on, darling, you must be tired.”

“I am thinking straight.” You struggled in his hold to no avail. “My head is more than clear. You hate me. Go back to hating me. There are far too many reasons for you to hate me rather than treat me like this.”

“You deserve everything I offer you, sweetness. You deserve every ounce of affection I give you and more. The world will be yours whether you want it or not.”

“I don’t want it. I want to go home. Cardan, please–”

“You are home.” You were swept off your feet. “Now come on. We should go to sleep. It’s been a long day.”