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explorevenus · 1 day
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baby steps ♡ yandere!leon kennedy x reader
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nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops
word count: 5k
description: moving to raccoon city with leon, your long-term boyfriend and childhood sweetheart, doesn't go as planned. while you consider moving back home to lick your wounds, leon conspires to keep you right by his side, where you were always meant to be.
tags/warnings: yandere!leon kennedy, specifically rookie cop leon, squishy soft dom leon, manipulation and generally toxic behavior, baby trapping (via tampering w condoms), daddy kink, praise kink, pet names, no use of y/n, fingering, p in v, creampie, cockwarming, mention of vomiting
a/n: this piece was commissioned by #1 Soft Dom Rookie Leon Truther and My Feral Puppy Wife @nexysworld ,, pls pls check out her work, she's so very talented and sweet and i am lucky to call her a friend ;w; <33
hopefully if u made it this far u read the tags and know what ur in for, but out of an abundance of caution i would like to reiterate that this is a yandere!leon fic and therefore contains dark themes a la dubious/uninformed consent and unhealthy relationship dynamics. if that's a no-no for u, pls kindly move on and take care of urself !!
my masterlist ♡
my ao3 ♡
fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;
-venus ♡
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Leon had it all figured out from the day he met you, the first day of kindergarten. The two of you were going to be just like the movies, just like the storybooks– you would grow up as friends, blossom into lovers, marry young and start a family, and everything would be exactly as it should be. He would have fulfilled his purpose, and you would have fulfilled yours. All would be right in the universe.
And he wasn’t exactly far off, for a long time. You were attached at the hip through elementary school, somehow managed to stay friends through middle school and after an awkward, smitten kiss shared in the empty auditorium, you began dating in high school. It was perfect, he thought. He didn’t even have to pull that many strings.
You went to prom, got drunk for the first time, learned to drive, all in each other’s company. You had each other’s virginity. You’d seen, touched and savored every inch of each other. There was almost nothing you didn’t share.
It wasn’t too long after graduation that Leon applied to begin training at the police academy, just like he’d always dreamed of. It was a solid profession with plenty of benefits for both of you and it would give him the opportunity to help people, ticking off all the boxes of what he wanted for himself. It was perfect, it was safe.
No one was surprised when he soared through the police academy with impeccable marks. You were such a little angel when he graduated, showering him with kisses and sweets and letting him pound you into the mattress for a whole weekend to celebrate. And when his application in Raccoon City was accepted, you did exactly as he hoped you would and you followed right along with him.
Of course you would follow right along. You didn’t know what life without Leon meant. You couldn’t even conceptualize what that would feel like and you had no intention of finding out, but that was fine by him. He was happy to be your rock, your guidance, your big, strong boyfriend who would hold your hand and follow you through everything. 
With Leon, you would never be alone. You would never be far from home. After all this time, he was your home, exactly as your lives were designed.
For the first few months of living in Raccoon City, the two of you shared a cozy apartment. It was a little worse for wear, but it was cute, and it was a fun way to start your adventure into young adulthood together. He was happy to handle all of the spiders and quadruple check the locks every night if it made you feel safer, if it gave you an excuse to come crying to him like a beautiful angel whenever you were frightened.
Bumps in the night, creaks of the pipes, the skittering of the upstairs neighbor’s little dog, they all sent you folding into his arms, shaking like a leaf, crying for him to protect you. He was your knight, and God were you his perfect little princess. The apple of his eye, the one and only object of his affection. No, not his affection, his obsession.
You were all he thought about, day and night, for more than half of his 21 years of living. Everything he did, every breath he took was with you in mind. You were the only living manifestation of complete and total perfection, every inch of you crafted with care and divinity. Your lives fit together like puzzle pieces– hell, your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. You were meant for each other.
It wasn’t long after you moved that the job you had lined up fell through, and you were left reeling. Moving away from home just to fall flat on your face was a massive blow to your self esteem, especially considering your parents practically screamed a hole through the phone at you about it. The next few days were spent sulking around the apartment, trying to pick up the pieces and choose a completely different path for yourself.
And there was Leon to hold you while you cried. To make dinner every night and dote on you endlessly, to pamper you with gifts and to insist over and over that he could make rent on his own, that he didn’t mind if you needed a little more time to wallow before finding a job… and to console you when your search for employment would prove fruitless once again.
He was there to tell you it wasn’t your fault, that the job market was just rough right now and that no matter what, he would be there to take care of you.
Weeks stretched into months and you still felt like you were spinning out, even with Leon by your side. Every single day was beginning to feel the same and you didn’t know what to do, all you knew was that you couldn’t imagine living the rest of your life like this. Something had to give and Raccoon City clearly wasn’t it.
Leon came home with a big smile on his face, just like any other day, but today was extra special. He’d finally had his one year review at the police station, and he was getting a sizable raise. He couldn’t wait to tell you he was gonna get you out of this shitty apartment and into somewhere nicer. He couldn’t wait to sneak his way down to the jeweler in search of a ring. The storybook life he had laid out for you was coming to fruition right before his eyes.
But you were quiet over dinner, and you looked exhausted. You wouldn’t even meet his eyes as you picked at your plate.
He was just about to ask you what was wrong when you finally spoke up, “I-I think I need to move back home with my parents.”
Silence. He felt like he had been shot.
“It’s just that… I know you said you’re happy to take care of bills and everything, but I just feel terrible every day being a burden and I think I need a chance to figure things out and get back up on my feet. I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life anymore.”
His expression fell and his heart ached, any and all excitement he had about his situation now gone in an instant. All the money in the world meant nothing to him if he couldn’t share it with you, and to see you so lost and scared made him feel like he fucking failed you, his poor, sweet princess who looked to him for purpose and protection and partnership. 
Leon wasn’t stupid. He knew that allowing you to move back in with your parents could potentially be a death sentence to your relationship. When people aren’t around each other anymore, it’s only natural that they drift apart, and Leon could not let that happen. It wasn’t even an option in his brain. Something had to be done and something had to be done now, before your lease was up in a few months, before push came to shove and you would finally have to make your choice.
He wasn’t even really sure where he got the idea. It wasn’t something he’d ever considered before, mostly because he didn’t think he’d ever be put in this position.
A few nights after that conversation, Leon couldn’t sleep. It was well past two in the morning and you were peacefully asleep beside him while he stared at the ceiling, entirely lost in thought. He witnessed the worst and darkest of humanity at work every single day, but nothing scared him as deeply as the idea of losing you. 
Eventually he got out of bed as carefully as he could manage, not wanting to wake you with his troubles. He only planned to get some water and maybe a minute or two of fresh air to clear his mind, but what he didn’t plan to get was some inspiration. 
You had asked him to stop at the store on his way home from work to pick up a few things you needed, and the bag was still sitting on the counter. He took it upon himself to grab a few things he needed, too, and among the items left in the bag was an unopened box of condoms. At first his eyes skimmed over it without much interest, but it wasn’t long before he froze where he stood and turned to look at the bag again.
Leon wasn’t sure what came over him. He didn’t really feel like himself, it was like he was watching his next moves from a third person perspective, hovering above, detached. For a moment he even wondered if he was sleepwalking, or if this was a dream. He stared down at the box in his hand, carefully opened it, and pierced a hole in the center of each and every one. He tucked the packets back into the box and brought it with him on his way back to the bedroom, stashing it in the usual spot in the bedside table.
On his side, of course.
He tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t help but just watch you. You were so pretty, so peaceful when you were dreaming, such a nice contrast to the stress and insecurity over finding your life’s purpose that plagued you in your waking hours.
But Leon already knew your life’s purpose. He reached out, gently brushing your messy hair away from your sleepy face so he could admire you more fully, and all he could think about was how much happier you’d look with a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly. Maybe an unexpected nudge in the right direction would set you back on the correct path and make you come to your senses about moving back in with your parents.
You huffed out a sleepy little breath from between your plush lips, stirring in the bed and peeking open your eyes to look at him. It was clear you weren’t fully conscious yet, but you were trying, squirming closer to him to tuck yourself into his chest.
“W’time is it?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes.
He smiled fondly, petting your hair and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you cuddled up to him like a sweet little baby bear, and he tried to pretend he hadn’t accidentally made himself hard as fuck thinking about knocking you up just to get you to stay with him. Somewhere deep down, he knew it was gross, he knew it was wrong, he knew it could violate your trust in so many ways.
But Leon was nothing if not a yearner, a hopeless romantic who couldn’t bear the thought of life without you by his side. He’d done everything right by you and you were still straying away from him, and that just wouldn’t do. It’s an act of desperation, he thought to himself, justifying his actions into the ground, I just want her so badly I’m not thinking straight, all pleas for forgiveness he would store for later use.
“It’s late, baby,” He mumbled into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”
You just shook your head and tightened your arms around him, clearly on the verge of dozing off again. Perhaps if the circumstances were different, he would have just let you, but he wouldn’t be awake in the first place if it weren’t for the extreme sense of urgency he felt.
His broad, warm hands engulfed you, one cradling the back of your head while the other rubbed your lower back, tapering off to paw at your hip. Your shirt– well, his shirt– had ridden up nearly to your waist, baring your cute panties, your soft belly and your plush thighs to his gaze. He swiped the pad of his thumb along your hip, imagining your bone structure spreading open to make room for his growing baby.
Leon didn’t take the time to talk himself out of it before his fingertips were sneaking down between your legs, slipping beneath your panties and finding your clit with practiced ease. The sensation was enough to jerk you awake again, a quiet mewl tumbling from your lips as you rocked into his hand, so sleepy and out of it and just so very cute.
“Leon?” Your voice was thick with sleep, but airy and light with sudden onset desire. That was all he needed to know he had you right where he wanted you.
“Shh, shh, you’re alright,” He cooed softly, following up the soothing whispers with a few gentle nibbles and bites to the shell of your ear, knowing that such attention always melted you into a puddle. “You’re alright, pretty baby, I just wanna play with you. Can daddy play with his sweet angel?”
You squirmed in his hold for a second, pondering his proposition while barely awake, but it wasn’t long before you were nodding into his shoulder and peppering his collarbone with wet kisses in return. It never took much to convince you when he spoke to you like that, so adoring and saccharine. 
“That’s my good girl,” He mused, invigorated by your consent. Almost instantaneously he became more heavy-handed with his touches, fingertips massaging firm, purposeful circles around your clit, occasionally dipping down to collect your growing arousal and bring it back with him. “You’re all mine, you know that? Never gonna let anyone else have my baby.”
Poor you. Clueless of his intentions, you interpreted that sentence in a much different way than he really meant it. But, ignorance is bliss, and what you felt right now was nothing short of blissful.
You poked your head up just to catch his lips with your own in a wanton grasp for more intimacy, a signal of your agreement, like you were giving yourself to him. He knew it was wrong that you didn’t fully realize what you were agreeing to, but again, he compartmentalized that, deciding that was a problem for his future self. What mattered right now was securing your place at his side for the rest of your lives.
He could feel the way your hips were stuttering, he could feel how short your breaths were becoming against his lips, and he knew you were getting close. Grunting into your mouth, he forced his hand further down your panties and sank two thick fingers into your hole, stretching you open for him. The intrusion was quite a bit less gentle than you were used to from him, drawing a shocked whimper from you, but you soon began to relax once more when he curled up into your sweet spot, sending you boneless. 
“D-Daddy,” You whined, nails biting into his shoulders. “Hurts… Slow, slower…”
A shiver rolled over his body, that of immediate guilt. He knew he was being a little rough with you, and he certainly didn’t want to hurt you, but…
“Fuck, I can’t help it,” He groaned, “Been thinking about this pussy all night, princess, I need you like air…”
You could hear the desperation in his tone, and even more you could feel it in the way he touched you like he was starving, like he was stranded in the desert and you were an oasis. Softened by this– and entirely hypnotized by his praise– you resigned to the feeling, allowing him to play with your body as he pleased. He was rutting into nothing without even thinking about it, his cock woefully hard and straining against the front of his grey sweatpants.
He wanted to prepare you properly, he really did, but he was so revved up and needy, he didn’t want to risk blowing his load anywhere but inside you. That wasn’t an option. Hands shaking, he pulled away from you just long enough to kick his sweatpants off and reach for one of those condoms, silently resenting the fact that he had to wear one at all, but he had an appearance to keep up. 
He tore the package open haphazardly with his teeth and rolled the condom on, shuddering deeply. His grasp was tight on your thigh as he pulled it up and over his hip, his other hand pushing your dainty purple panties aside to guide his cock into the heavenly, pillowy walls of your ethereal cunt.
Fuck, you were so fucking tight, clenching around him, whimpering and whining and writhing like a perfect little puppy in heat. Leon’s teeth sank into your shoulder as he bottomed out in you, and he almost could have sworn he felt the tip of the condom rip open even wider. The image alone had him moaning like an animal, pinning your quivering body to his own while he rolled his hips, fucking you deep and hard and slow, savoring every single stroke of your slippery walls around his aching cock. Every meeting of your hips was joined by obscene squelching with the way you were practically sucking him in.
“G-God, fuck,” Leon growled, his face contorted with pleasure. You and Leon had always had what you considered to be an active and healthy sex life, but you’d never seen him quite so beside himself with raw lust. Whatever drove him in that moment was primal, and you could feel it in his every movement, his every breath, see it in the wild look in his eyes.
His pupils were like dinner plates as he gazed down at you, stamping your forehead with kisses and feeling over every inch of your body. “Look at you, just look at you… Such a perfect little dolly for daddy to love on forever and ever, huh? Oh, my princess…”
You were lightheaded with arousal, every nerve ending in your body lighting up with white hot pleasure. You could barely even form a sentence, just nodding along as he moaned out his praise and letting him manhandle you like a ragdoll. Perhaps his words had more than a modicum of truth to them.
“F-Feels so… so… fuck, daddy, feels so good,” You babbled mindlessly, head falling back to the pillows beneath you. He was overwhelming your senses, taking over every corner of your mushy brain. The room was dark and you were still a bit delirious with sleep and to that effect, nothing existed in your world right now but daddy, daddy, daddy…
He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the spot on your shoulder he’d so harshly bitten earlier, the pace of his thrusts not faltering for a second. “Yeah? I’ll bet it does, judging by the look on you,” He teased, nipping at your throat. “So pretty when you’re all fucked out.”
Your back was arching up off the bed, your eyes rolling back and your walls pulsing around him. Addicted to eliciting pleasured reactions from you, Leon wedged one hand between your two bodies, flattening his palm on your lower belly before pressing down.
Stars. You saw stars. A broken, high-pitched cry ripped from your throat, and you didn’t even have the capacity to hope the neighbors didn’t think you were being murdered, because you didn’t care. You could feel every rigid inch of him inside you, dragging over every nerve, his cock stuffed so deep that you swore you could feel him in your throat. Toes curling and your nails raking down his naked back, tears were beginning to prick at your eyes– you were close.
That was a good thing, though, considering he was too, and he could only hope the wet heat of your release would mask the feeling of his own. Leon sealed his lips over your own once more, swallowing your broken, needy cries as he fucked you to completion, letting his hand fall a little bit lower until his fingertips were on your clit again.
Your body twitched at the stimulation, thighs clamping down tight around his hips as you sobbed into his mouth and soaked his cock with your gushing sex. “Daddy,” You wept, clinging to him for dear life as he fucked you through your high, his own spilling out in sync. “Daddy, daddy, daddy…”
“Shh, I’ve got you, baby, I’m right here,” He cooed, taking your bottom lip playfully between his teeth before pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. “Just stay put, you’re doing so good for me, angel…”
His hips continued to piston forward as he hoped to force as much of his cum into you as he could manage, while still maintaining the believable illusion of protection. He intended to put every last one of those tampered-with condoms to use, though he wondered silently to himself if you might give up and just let him take you raw once you were to inevitably find out you’re pregnant.
You were a weeping, shivering mess in his arms, thighs clenching and twitching around him as he shushed you and babied you, petting your hair away from your tear-stained face and stamping you with delicate kisses, still stuffing his cum into you with shallow thrusts. He couldn’t wait to see you blossom right before his eyes. He couldn’t wait for you to realize your purpose was right here with him. He couldn’t wait to have you to himself for the rest of your days, his princess.
Leon remained sheathed deep within you, even as he softened, wanting to make sure you stayed plugged up well. But, he also couldn’t resist the warmth and wetness of you, how comforting it felt to be enveloped by you.
“You just stay put right there, okay, princess?” He reiterated quietly, lips brushing over your brow in a loving kiss. “Want you to keep daddy warm for the rest of the night. Can you do that for me?”
As if he even had to ask. You would have done practically anything for him when reduced to such a bleary, agreeable state of mind. He knew you all too well.
You just nodded like a bobblehead, dreamy, doe eyes staring up at him through teary lashes, hanging off his every word like gospel. He tucked you in even closer to his chest, cradling you with such adoration, his hips rocking forward every now and then just to get a reaction out of you, and to remind himself this was real.
He wasn’t at all surprised that you were able to fall asleep like that, stuffed full of cum and sated like a good little princess deserved to be. In a perfect world, you would never have to move again, just stay there in his lap forever and soak up every drop of him you could take. 
In the coming weeks, that box of condoms wouldn’t last long. The only thought on his mind day in and day out was bending you over every surface in the apartment, and you thought nothing of it. Of course you noticed his sudden, insatiable lust for you, but you assumed it was a symptom of knowing his beloved girlfriend was just a few short months away from potentially leaving. He was only grasping at every inch of you he could commit to memory, right?
In all fairness to you, you weren’t exactly that far off.
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Your tired eyes pried open at the familiar feeling of Leon rutting up against you, gripping at your hips like you would disappear if he didn’t. The morning sun was just barely beginning to peek through the windows and the bed was warm, it was a lovely way to wake up, one you would never get tired of.
Or at least you never thought you would. You loved Leon— and his sexual prowess— very dearly, but you also loved being able to sleep through an entire night without interruption, and you hadn’t been getting much of that over the past several weeks.
“Mnh… Leon, babe,” You grumbled, burying your face back into your pillow. “Not today. I’m exhausted.”
He was taken aback by this at first, and then his expression fell with disappointment. Leon had gotten so used to breeding you dumb every morning before work that he wasn’t confident he could go back to functioning without it. Regardless, Leon knew that continuing his attempt to seduce you while you were this grouchy would be a death sentence, so he opted to take the path of least resistance. 
After the moment or two it took for him to process that decision, Leon’s touches quickly shifted from provocative to soothing– he was no longer grasping at your hips but wrapping you up in his arms, pressing gentle kisses to your temple and cheekbone as if to regain your good favor.
You hummed contentedly, relaxing back into his embrace. Leon always warmed up like a heater in the night, and you were more than happy to bask in it. His muscular frame was like a weighted blanket and his presence alone was usually enough to knock you out like a light, but for some reason, you were struggling to fall back asleep. Every second felt like five minutes and despite your best efforts– and your complete and utter exhaustion– sleep refused to reclaim you.
Biting back the urge to blame Leon for waking you up in the first place, you huffed out a breath and rolled over in his arms, hoping the change in position might be just what you needed.
Wrong. Very, very wrong. Something about the movement made you dizzy, nauseous, your stomach twisting into knots. You wanted to say something, but you weren’t even sure what to say. It came on so suddenly that it caught you off guard and you weren’t even fully confident you would be able to get up at first.
You whined his name quietly, nuzzling into his chest and wrenching your eyes shut in an attempt to reorient yourself, your arms closing around your middle instinctively.
“You alright? What’s the matter?” Your sweet boyfriend asked quietly, brows furrowing with concern. He could feel your body trembling against his own, your back rising and falling with short, shallow breaths.
Now it was your throat tightening, too, and the second your mouth started to flood with saliva, you knew what was about to happen. Leon didn’t stop you when you writhed out of his embrace and stumbled out of bed, depending on muscle memory alone to get yourself to the bathroom with how woozy and ill you felt.
You just barely made it to the toilet in time to vomit. The cold tile felt nice on your knees, but the impact, not as much. It wasn’t long before Leon materialized at your side with a glass of water and a cold washcloth to hold over your forehead, rubbing your back and already silently conspiring to call out of work and give his poor, sick angel the princess treatment all day.
You collapsed back into his chest with a deep shudder, reaching for the water in a desperate attempt to wash the taste of bile from your mouth. He ended up grabbing it for you, raising it to your cracked lips and helping you take slow, measured drinks.
“There you go, pup,” He hummed, rocking you gently in his lap, his poor little darling princess. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”
Your eyes fluttered closed, a sense of relief washing over you at last. Maybe you just caught a bug, or ate something your body didn’t agree with, or your stress and exhaustion were finally catching up to you. Surely you would feel better within a few days.
“I’m okay,” You whispered, reaching for his hand and squeezing it affectionately. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
Leon smiled, a burst of warmth spreading through his chest. You couldn’t possibly imagine what that meant to him, considering he chose to interpret it in whatever way felt most validating. After all, no one could take care of you like Leon could, and they wouldn’t have the chance to try, anyway. Not over his dead body.
Stooping down to kiss the crown of your head, Leon’s every word was thick with syrupy sweetness, “My baby, I would be so lost if I didn’t. Taking care of you is like breathing to me.”
And he meant every part of it. He didn’t just mean it, he showed it. He showed it when he held your hair back, and he showed it when you realized you couldn’t even remember when you’d had your last period. He showed it when you sent him to the drugstore in the middle of the night for pregnancy tests, and he showed it when you broke down crying at the results, wondering how this could have happened.
His favorite part was showing it when you tearfully called your parents and told them you were staying in Raccoon City, not because you had found a job, but because you were pregnant.
“I can’t believe they’re choosing to react like this, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. They should be happy for you, and it’s awful that they’re anything but happy for you,” He said, voice low and soothing, tone purposeful. “I’ve got you, princess. I’ve got you. I’m gonna take good care of you and this baby, and we’re gonna be happy. Alright?”
Leon tipped your chin up with his knuckle, making you look at him. Your cheeks were red and your eyes were puffy with tears, droplets still clinging to your little dolly eyelashes.
It was hard not to believe him when he spoke with such conviction, when he looked at you with those rich blue eyes that bled from an endless well of love. The pad of his thumb skimmed over your pouty bottom lip as you unknowingly submitted to his grand design.
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undressrehearsal · 1 day
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dare to fuck this up
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summary: ever since your last game of truth or dare ellie's been avoiding you and it's time for an intervention
tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs and alcohol (not used), oral (e receiving), fingering (r receiving), finger riding (r receiving), little bit of angst, afab reader, the knee thing
a/n: this took me 2 months cause i work full time and it's 10k words so. enjoy (thank u for all the love on part 1! <3) also for anyone who doesn't know the tiktok dance i mentioned i linked it. don't look under the sound you'll spend way too long watching hot women dance
part 1
You hadn't talked about it. 
You had woken up the next morning, the sun blinding you from the window that was still left open. A cold autumn breeze ruffled your curtains, pricking at your bare skin. With one foot still in a dream, you'd groaned, turning over and pulling your blanket over your head. You had burrowed your head into your pillow - it still smelled earthy, rich with cologne and the faintest smell of weed. It had made your nose wrinkle only briefly, before you had reached out, searching for the warmth of another body - but your fingers only landed on the sheets, now cool to the touch. 
You sat up with a gasp, the blanket pooling around your lap. But you had fallen asleep on top of your blankets, hadn't you? 
The comforter was laid neatly over you, the pillows on the other side of the bed propped against your headboard, unbothered. The sun was streaming through the window, filtering through your curtains and shining in splatters of light against your own bare skin. Your small room was deafeningly quiet. 
That had been three weeks ago. 
For three weeks, Ellie avoided you. You hadn't seen her when you left to take your exam that morning. By the time you got home - after classes and after your part-time job - it was dark. The door to her bedroom was firmly shut, the muffled sound of music leaking into the living room - you wanted to smile when you realized she was listening to that song you had recommended. You thought about knocking on her door; not even to talk about what happened, really, but just because she was your best friend. Instead, you ate leftover takeout - cold because you were too tired to microwave it - and went to bed. You could hear her quietly singing to the music through your flimsy wall, falling asleep listening to her voice. 
At first, you honestly thought you had dreamed it. You thought maybe you had fallen asleep, sleep deprivation and vodka drawing out this fantasy in your dreams to torment you when you woke. But when you looked in the mirror, the bruises were still there. You ran your fingertips across the one on your collarbone, pressing at the one left behind your ear; you could still feel the warmth of Ellie's mouth against your skin, her teeth grazing across your hips. The phantom feeling still sent a shiver down your spine, heat creeping in your stomach. 
Ellie was trying her best to avoid you, but she still lived with you. After three days of not speaking, you resorted to a different approach. She didn't seem to have any plan to speak with you anytime soon - certainly not about what happened - so you let your body do the talking. You began wearing primarily v-necks and tank tops - ignoring the fact that it was still fall - simply to broadcast the line of lovebites she had left, her signature written all over your skin. They had faded slightly, but the purplish bruises still blossomed along your collar. You began wearing shorts around, short enough to show the bruise on your thigh; you let the fabric sit low enough to show the one at your hip, a pretty blend of colors that made you ache. The few times you did see her - when she was scavenging for food in the kitchen or right when she got home, before she could scurry away back to her room - you could feel her eyes lingering on you, gaze like a brand against your skin, burning all the spots she had marked. 
And she would hurry back to her room, locking the door behind her. 
Fine. 
If she refused to talk about it, you thought, you'd just have to make her. 
Which is why, three weeks after your original game - three weeks after that stupid fucking night - you bought a new bottle of vodka (by the time you had found the old one, it had spilled the last of its contents into your rug. Your room still smelled of it). When you got home, Ellie’s door was shut, just as it had been every day for three weeks. You kicked off your boots, leaving them in a pile in the hall, and knocked on her door.
“Sorry, I’m busy,” she called - just as she had every day for three weeks. 
You pursed your lips and knocked again, harder. 
“I’m busy!” she called again, her voice hard. It might have stung if you didn’t know her so well.
So, you knocked again. And kept knocking, a steady, continuous rhythm that echoed against the walls. You heard Ellie curse under her breath, could hear the scrape of her chair and her footsteps, and you kept knocking. You didn’t stop - didn’t even slow - until she opened the door in a huff, your hand falling against open air. 
“What the hell are you-” 
You shoved the bottle of vodka against her chest, cutting her off. She gripped it hastily before it could shatter against the floor. 
She looked frazzled. You had seen her during several exam seasons, during harrowing projects and infuriating essays. You had seen her in the hospital, two years ago, after breaking her leg skateboarding to work. But there was something in the way her hair was disheveled, sticking up at odd angles as though she had been running her fingers through it over and over and over again. There were bags under her eyes, purplish splotches like watercolor. 
And her eyes…. Her eyes were completely shattered. 
So you hesitated - briefly, just long enough for her to see the stutter on your lips - before you said, “Truth or dare?”
And the game began. 
Ellie looked at you, staring for several moments that stretched into infinity. You wanted to grasp it, to wrap your fingers around that stretched thread of a moment and hold it there where it couldn't hurt either of you. You weren't ready to let it go. But Ellie was looking at you with those broken eyes, and before you could say or do anything - before you caved and took the bottle back, fleeing back to the safety of your own room - the thread snapped. 
Ellie shook her head - and kept shaking it, as if doing so would rid her of this… whatever this was. “No,” she murmured, avoiding your eyes as her grip around the bottle’s neck tightened. “No, I’m not doing this. I’m busy, okay? I have an exam tomorrow-”
She moved to close the door - shutting it right in your face - but you kicked your foot out to stop it. 
“When somebody asks the question,” you said, reciting the stupid little agreement you both had written out two years ago, the night you established this tradition, “you have to play the game to its conclusion; when you run out of questions or pass out from alcohol poisoning. Those are the rules, El. Remember?” 
And still, she just looked at you, her brow furrowed like you were an equation she couldn’t solve - couldn’t even read, really. Her knuckles were white around the bottle’s neck, and when you looked down, her hands were shaking. You wanted more than anything to put your hands over hers, to still them - to bring those hands to your lips and kiss the white knuckles until she released her fists. Instead, you dug your nails into your thighs. 
You watched as Ellie took a deep, steadying breath, clenching her fists tighter before releasing the tension, her fingers relaxing around the bottle; her hands stopped trembling. She smiled at you, but it was tight, her eyes empty of their usual mischief. “Alright,” she said, and her voice was just as tight as her fists had been moments ago - the tension not gone, only transferred. “Okay, I’ll play. But you only get an hour - I really do need to study.” 
Ellie’s bedroom was the same layout as yours, only flipped, the two a mirror of each other. Strings of lights hung crookedly along the walls, the bulbs casting a soft, warm glow amongst the room, the same hazy hue of a dream. An easel leaned in one corner, a canvas propped against it; there were only the barest scribbles of an outline, incomprehensible to you. You thought it may be a profile, the gentle slope of a nose and soft lips sketched in pencil, but you weren’t sure. 
You ran your fingers over her desk as you passed; it was in absolute disarray. Two different astronomy textbooks lay open, covered in highlighter markings and Ellie’s sloping writing in the margins. There were three different cups on the surface in varying levels of full: a mug half full of coffee, still steaming; a glass of water that was completely full, untouched; and a cup filled with murky, grey liquid. A few paintbrushes had been left to sit in that one, and in large writing along the cup was written PAINT DO NOT DRINK. You almost laughed, remembering all the times you had watched your roommate spit water out after she had picked up the wrong cup. 
It felt strange when you sat gingerly on her bed. You had sat in this spot so many times before, more than you could count. You had spent so much time lounging on this bed, your laptop open in front of you while Ellie worked at her desk - on homework or her latest painting or nothing at all. There were days laid out before you where you both at lain in a crumbled heap, eating takeout on top of the covers because Ellie didn't give a shit about crumbs, an open laptop playing whatever horror movie she wanted to show you (she was always more scared than you, hiding her face in your shoulder). God knows how many truth or dare games you had played in this room, a bottle of alcohol passing between shaking fingers. When Ellie bought it, it was cheap whiskey and you hated it; you drank it anyway. 
Now, sitting on her bed - carefully, as though you thought it might break - your skin felt aflame, a fire burning in your muscles. When you ran your fingers over the messy sheets, you could only remember how it had felt to have your fingers clutching the ones on your own bed. 
Ellie sat at her desk across from you, folding herself so that she had one foot propped up on the chair with her, her knee folded to her chest; her other foot tapped anxiously against the floor. She was looking at you, her face strategically neutral, but it was like she was looking through you; her eyes kept shifting away, unable or unwilling to settle on you. Her voice gave nothing away when she said, looking at a spot above your shoulder, “Dare.” 
You sighed, feeling the questions wanting to claw their way from your throat with nowhere to go. You knew what you wanted her to do - what you wanted to dare her to do - but the words would only cause her to withdraw further. You felt like you had to approach Ellie as if she were a scared animal, ready to flee at the first sight of danger. 
Wracking your brain for something mild, you said, “Try to recreate one of those dumb popular TikTok dances.” 
You didn't miss how Ellie's shoulders relaxed, her hands noticeably unclenching. She looked at you and it was almost like nothing had happened; like she hadn’t been avoiding you for three entire weeks, becoming a ghost in your apartment. Like you both hadn’t made what had obviously been a drunken mistake. 
The beginning of a smirk tugged at her lips as she dug in her back pocket for her phone - its case had an astronaut on it, because of course it did. The screen illuminated her face, flashes reflecting minutely in her eyes as she scrolled. She bit her lip absently - she often did when she was thinking. You tried not to stare and failed miserably. 
“This’ll be easy,” she muttered to herself, half laughing. She scrolled through a few videos, and she had the volume down on her phone, but you could still recognize the song that kept playing on repeat; you were going to fucking die. 
There were several minutes of quiet, only the music playing from Ellie’s phone. With nothing to do but wait, you brought your legs up onto the bed, tucking them under you; your eyes wandered around the room, taking in the stack of paintings by her desk, both finished and unfinished. The figurine she had of Kassandra from Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey had toppled on her desk, her spear falling in a glob of paint, the tip smudged bright yellow. You investigated the posters she had hung up of her favorite bands - almost all of them with female singers; she had a very specific taste. On her nightstand, in a frame made of macaroni, there was a picture of her and her dad, taken at the zoo when she was quite a bit younger, the blurry image of a giraffe in the background. She was holding up a peace sign, smiling so wide her eyes were practically shut. 
You turned back when Ellie stood up from her chair, placing her phone on her desk. Shoving her hands in her hair, she said, “Can’t promise this’ll be anything amazing, but you get what you paid for.” Even as she said it, she was smirking, a dangerous twinkle in her eye. 
You watched as she rummaged in her closet, shoving aside probably half a dozen flannels and at least 10 different band t-shirts. She rummaged through a bucket with a few beanies in different colors, and you couldn’t see her face, but you already knew she would be wrinkling her nose like she always did when she was getting frustrated. 
You jumped, startled, when she suddenly exclaimed, pulling her head from her closet and turning to you with a triumphant grin. She held a black belt in her fist, holding it up like a trophy. 
You heard the stutter, heard the way her breath caught after she said the words. It was so stupid - a stupid little remark that she would have made any other day three weeks ago. She wouldn’t have even thought about it, wouldn’t have batted an eye. You would have rolled your eyes and said something mean in response - something like, “I save my complaints for when I see your face instead.” You would have laughed and then watched a fucking movie or something. 
You shook your head at her, even as your throat closed up with anticipation. “If it took you that long to find one, it’s no wonder your pants are always hanging from your fucking ass.” 
“Hey,” she said, picking up her phone again and looking at you with mock offense; she was still smirking. “I don’t exactly hear you complaining when my ass is out.” 
Instead, Ellie only coughed awkwardly, ducking her head to fiddle with her phone. In the dim light, you could see the flush of her cheeks behind her bangs. You looked anywhere but at her, your eyes darting around to find something to focus on that wasn’t how pretty she looked when she was flushed pink - how pretty she looked with her cheeks red from alcohol and exertion, her lips shining wetly - 
Your brain short-circuited when Ellie started the music - only the bite-sized sample that was trending on TikTok. She set her phone on her desk and took a deep breath, waiting for the song to loop again as she positioned the belt by her hips. She didn’t look at you, instead casting her eyes to the ceiling and muttering, “This is gonna be so stupid.” 
When the music looped again, you were forced to watch as Ellie thrust her hips to the beat, pulling the belt slowly away from her hips. When she brought it up to wrap the piece of leather around her neck, pulling it taut, you were surely convinced you must be paying for some sort of crime, that this was your eternal torture. Her movements were janky, stuttering and unsure and off-beat - she had only watched the videos for a few minutes and was relying solely on memory to guide her limbs. When she tried to tie her wrists into the belt, she got stuck, her hands ending up in a knotted mess. Still, her eyes met yours when she raised her bound hands above her head - coincidentally or purposefully - and you couldn’t look away. 
This was definitely Hell. It had to be. 
When the song started to loop again, Ellie hastily tried to pull her hands from the knot. The belt clattered to the floor, abandoned, as she scooped her phone up, fumbling with the buttons to cut off the music. She nearly dropped her phone in her haste. 
When the room was silent again, Ellie sat back down at her desk. Last time you had played, you had asked her to do something ridiculous for her first dare, and she had grinned with pride, practically preening. Now, she wasn't smiling; she hardly even looked at you, fiddling with one of the many paintbrushes on her desk. You compartmentalized the image of her thrusting her hips with her hands bound over her head, saving it for later. You always did torture yourself with these things. 
Ellie was looking at that same spot over your shoulder when she said, “Truth or dare?” She sounded pained, her words strained against some invisible weight. It was like your very presence in her room - on her bed - pained her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave and give her relief. 
“Truth,” you said, hoping against hope that she would ask you fucking anything about that night three weeks ago. 
But she had never been that easy. Ellie had never been one to give you straight answers and she wasn’t about to start now - especially not now. So instead of saying anything - asking anything - about that night that she seemed keen on forgetting, she asked, “What’s the worst first date you’ve been on?” Before you could protest that you always told her about your worst dates, she added, “One I haven’t heard before.” 
So for the span of one question, you let yourself believe that you were still talking to your best friend. That she hadn’t been avoiding you for three fucking weeks and this was only your typical truth or dare game in between studying. You believed that you were simply gossiping with Ellie, who had been your best friend for several years and nothing more. In the space of one question, you let yourself believe that this was still only a game and not an intervention. 
So, in the spirit of pretend, you thought for a moment, rifling through the index of all the shitty dates you’ve been on. Ellie had already heard most of them, had been there whenever you came back home; she was there whether you were heartbroken or relieved that you wouldn’t see the person again. There were a few times where you had come home laughing, and she had passed you a joint as you told her all about the horrible date - you would take twice as long to tell the story because you couldn’t stop laughing. 
Finally, you said, “Okay, this was before we came to college. We weren’t close enough friends in high school for me to tell you, so I don’t think you’ve heard this one before. Stop me if I’m wrong.” She waved her hand for you to continue, twirling a pencil between her fingers. “I had just graduated high school so I was dating around before I left for college - nothing serious, just casually looking around.” 
“Window shopping,” she interrupted you with a grin - that same easy grin she always had with you. Your heart tugged embarrassingly at seeing it again. 
You swallowed the lump and continued, “Yeah. So, I went on a date with this guy - he was some friend of a friend’s, I didn’t know much about him. We went out to dinner at some local dive bar - which was already fucking weird because, like I said, I had just graduated high school.” 
“Was this guy a fucking cradle robber?” Ellie said, wrinkling her nose. 
You shook your head. “He may as well have been. He was either 21 or he was just really good friends with the bartender because as soon as he came in, he got two beers - the cheap shit, too. It tasted like musty ass.” Your stomach twisted when she laughed. “So we sit at a booth and I finally get a second to really look at him.” You leaned forward, bracing your hand on the bed so you wouldn’t fall, and made sure she was looking right at you when you said, “And this motherfucker was wearing a shirt that said Black Rifles Matter.” 
You reveled in the way Ellie’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening. Her lip turned up in disgust, and the only thing she could say was, “No.” 
You grinned, nodding, and you had to focus really hard to not start laughing. “Yes. And I rolled up to this dive bar, fresh out of the womb, with bright pink hair freshly dyed and a crop top that literally said Femme on it in bright pink letters - which, okay, maybe not the choice to wear on a first date with a straight guy, but still. I was in this booth with a baby face looking every bit as queer as I am, and this fucking dude with a patchy mustache and a shirt that has more problems than I care to admit opens up by telling me he doesn’t like when girls dye their hair.” 
Ellie was rolling her eyes, on the edge of her seat. She leaned closer as you continued, “But fine, whatever, everybody has preferences I guess. But this guy gets three beers in, and he’s already been talking about weird shit - conspiracy theories and telling me how kids today are too soft - one of those fucking guys, right? But then he stops,” you hold up your hands for emphasis, leaning even closer, “and he leans into me over the table, and he looks me straight in the eye - you wanna know what he said?” 
Ellie groaned. “Tell me he didn’t ask who you voted for or some shit.” 
You barked out a laugh; it echoed on the walls. “God, I wish. No, this bitch looks me dead in the eyes, his breath reeking of bad beer, and he says, ‘Are you on your period? I have this weird talent for smelling when girls are on their period.’” 
You watched, delighted, as Ellie slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling a choked gasp. “No!” 
You couldn’t stop laughing, pressing your hand to your stomach as you fell back against the sheets. Her laugh filled the room like helium, making everything feel lighter - easier. Even now, you couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was being around Ellie. And for a moment, you did forget what had happened. You forgot about the string pulled taut between you waiting to snap. You forgot that this was anything more than simply another dumb game of truth or dare.
Until you looked up and saw the press of Ellie’s lips again, the way her eyes darted away, and you could feel yourself sinking again. 
And that’s how the hour went. Ellie - infuriating Ellie - did every single dare you asked of her. She did a handstand for a minute straight, her face turning so red you thought she might pass out. She called the local pizza place you often ordered from and asked for one hundred sardine pizzas, laughing when the poor teenage boy on the other line started stuttering. Last time, she didn’t take all the liquid in the fridge and make a nauseating cocktail; but this time, she did go and find four different liquids of her choosing - apple juice, almond milk, an old flat Dr. Pepper, and the remaining vinegar in a Kimchi jar - and downed it in front of you. She tried her hardest to hold a straight face, but only ended up scrunching her eyes closed, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle a gag. She never chose truth. 
For your part, you never chose dare. You answered every pressing, embarrassing question she asked, ignoring the flush to your cheeks. You told her the most absurd dealbreaker for a relationship. (“What do you mean you’ll break up with someone if they don’t like garlic?” Ellie asked, smiling even as she shook her head.”) You went through the original Wiggles band and said which you would fuck, marry, or kill (“There are four of them! Do I choose to have a threesome?”) 
And you waited. Each time you chose truth, you held your breath. You watched Ellie mull it over, her eyes darting around as she thought, and prayed that she would just ask you something. You knew it was an unrealistic wish, but you still watched her lips and hoped against hope that she would give you some kind of acknowledgement that this wasn’t all for nothing. You just wanted her to stop being such a pussy and fucking talk about what happened. 
But the clock kept ticking. 
After about an hour had passed, Ellie looked at her phone and sighed, standing up. “Okay, I really have to get back to studying. I have this dumb astrophysics exam tomorrow and I can’t wrap my fucking head around this shit, so I have to -”
“One more,” you cut her off, standing up from the bed. You followed her as she walked to the door, one step behind her when she put a hand on the doorknob. She paused, her hand frozen there as she looked at you - actually looked at you, not through you. It was only a moment, but it was there; you could feel the way her eyes had branded your skin even after she’d looked away. Your voice was rushed, breathless when you added, “We haven’t even opened the bottle, so what’s one more? Just for fun.” 
Ellie looked behind you, back at the vodka bottle on her desk with the seal still intact. She sighed, but she never could say no to you. 
“Fine,” she said, and her voice was so quiet in the dark room; the word felt like a secret between you, soft against the tension stretched thin. “One more.”
You nodded, taking a deep breath. You tried to sound casual - you really did - but when you spoke, you found you couldn’t speak any louder than a whisper, afraid to disturb the air around you. You ducked your head, trying to meet her eyes when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?” 
She looked at you, meeting your eyes, and she seemed to deflate, sighing out a breath that ruffled your hair - you hadn’t realized how close you were. Her breath smelled of canned ravioli and weed; it was almost enough to make you laugh. 
Ellie took a step back, clearing her throat, and answered for one last time, “Dare.” Because she was too afraid of the fucking truth. 
And fuck it if your heart didn’t stutter in your chest. You felt your fingertips buzzing, your stomach twisting nauseatingly. You felt like you were going to be sick, but you forced yourself to look up at her. You squared your shoulders, feeling like you were preparing for fucking battle, and said, the words familiar on your tongue, “Kiss me.” 
A moment of silence passed, the words suspended between you. They were tangible, and part of you still wanted to snatch them back - to swallow them and leave, to pretend this never happened - but you didn’t. You held them out to Ellie - you weren’t sure if they were a threat or an offering. 
Ellie didn’t recoil, and you weren’t sure if that was more insulting. She looked at you for a long moment before turning away, shaking her head and turning the doorknob. “I really need to study, okay? I don’t have time for thi-” 
You put your hand against the door, holding it there so she couldn’t open it. Your stomach was a mess, tying itself into knots that you would never be able to undo. And you knew - you were far too aware - that this could ruin everything. It could drive her further away, pushing her further into this little cocoon she was hiding in. Ellie might hate you for it. 
But this was too important to ignore. 
“Kiss me, Ellie,” you said again, and you could feel the bite of it on your own tongue. When you had said it three weeks ago, you had been so unsure. It had been a rush of words on a breath, tinged with alcohol and desperation. The words had been so careless, a sober idea that had made its way from your drunken mouth. 
Now, Ellie was the one who couldn’t look at you. She stared at the spot where your hand pressed to the door, willing you to let go. Her knuckles were white around the doorknob. Her voice was a rumble that you felt in your chest when she said, “I need you to leave. Please.” That last word - please - made your heart break. 
You swallowed around the lump in your throat and said, “No.” 
Ellie finally turned her whole body towards you, but she was wearing a mask; she had schooled her face into a mockery of nonchalance, her eyebrows raised expectantly as she watched you. She crossed her arms, leaning against her hip, and watched you with measured expectancy, shaking her head. She shrugged and said, “What do you want? I really need to study.” 
And it was the lack of care that broke you. 
You slapped your hand against the door in frustration, feeling the sting in your palm, disappointed when Ellie didn’t so much as jump. You shook your head at her, and you were so fucking angry you could feel tears stinging at your eyes. You blinked them away and snapped, “What’s your fucking problem?” 
Ellie’s eyebrows shot up, her mouth opening in indignant shock. “What’s my problem?” 
“Yeah,” you cut her off before she could even continue. “What’s your fucking problem? You know what happened - what we did - but ever since that night you have been so determined to act like it never happened. You haven’t even talked to me in three fucking week, Ellie!” She closed her eyes when your voice broke on her name. “You’ve hardly looked at me all night. And look,” you sniffled, feeling some of the fire in you die down, “if you regret it - if you want to act like it never happened and go back to how things were before, I get it, okay? But can you at least have the balls to fucking tell me?” 
Your voice echoed off the silent walls, filling the space between you until you couldn’t breathe. You wiped a hand roughly over your face; your cheeks burned and you hated yourself for it. The room was so quiet you feared Ellie could hear the sound of your racing heart. 
It felt like hours before Ellie spoke; her voice was so heartbreakingly quiet, tip toeing on eggshells that were already broken. “I don’t regret it.” 
You huffed out a breath, shaking your head as she still wouldn’t meet your eyes. She couldn’t even look at you. When you took a step closer, you could feel the heat radiating off of her body, could feel the warmth in your chest. Your voice had lost its fire, your throat cold and raw and broken. You could only murmur, “Then kiss me again, Els. What are you so afraid of?” 
“You,” she snapped. You jumped, taking a step back; your heart lurched when she finally looked at you. Those shattered eyes were watching you, so open and vulnerable you wanted to look away. You forced yourself to watch, to bear witness to it when she shook her head, blinking tears from her eyes. Ellie pressed her lips together, blinking several times before releasing her held breath. She held your gaze like it was a lifeline and said, “I’m scared of you.” 
And just for a moment - so filled with silence it might pop - you saw it. You saw how Ellie had run from you like an injured animal, hiding away. You saw the way her hands shook around her biceps. You saw the way she bit her lip to keep it from quivering. 
You shook your head, feeling so incredibly small underneath those eyes that had avoided you all night; now they were vividly, overwhelmingly focused, broken in the hazy light and so green it was dizzying (and you couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol this time). You didn’t recognize your own voice, so small and vulnerable that the words themselves ached: “How can I fix this, Els? You want me to-” You huffed out a heavy breath, choking on your own voice. “Do you want me to act like it didn’t happen? Do you want me to leave you alone? I’ll do whatever you want, Ellie, I just… fuck. I just want my best friend back. So just… tell me what I did wrong.” 
You jumped when Ellie barked out a laugh, so dry it cracked. It may have been a trick of the light, the soft string lights making everything feel unreal, but when she looked at you again, she went impossibly soft. 
“You,” she said, so softly it ached, “haven't done anything wrong.” She sighed, leaning back against the wall; it was like all the fight suddenly drained from her, her shoulders sagging against the weight of three weeks. She looked away, her lashes casting shadows over her cheeks, and said, quiet as a confession, “You were drunk.” 
You furrowed your brow, shaking your head. “What?” 
Ellie ran a hand through her hair, making it even more disheveled. Pathetically, you wanted to fix it; you knew how soft the strands would be under your fingers. 
“You were drunk,” she repeated, as though it pained her; as though it explained everything. Her voice broke, the shattered pieces falling at your feet. “And I…. Fuck, I shouldn’t have pushed you. I shouldn’t have… forced myself on you.” She heaved in a shaky breath, her words tumbling from her, broken glass cutting her throat, leaving it raw. “I couldn’t even… wait for you to wake up after. I just fucking ran - I couldn’t even look at you, and that’s even shittier! And for three weeks, I’ve been trying to figure out how to fucking talk to you when I know that we - that I shouldn’t have done that.” 
Ellie pressed her hand to her mouth, taking in a shaking breath - her entire body was trembling as she fought to hold it all in. She looked ready to burst, struggling to take in a deep breath. You reached out to grab her hand - to hold her together - but she flinched away. 
“I don’t-” you started, unable to find the words. You watched your best friend dissolve, and you couldn’t seem to fit all her pieces back together. “Ellie… Els, are you saying you’re avoiding me because - because you thought you took advantage of me.” The words tasted ridiculous on your tongue, a foreign object.
Ellie was shaking her head wildly, her hands balled into fists. “You were drunk!” she repeated, like a mantra. She pressed a hand to her chest as though to keep everything in. “You were drunk, and you kept telling me no, and I just… pushed. I pushed and I didn’t know when to stop and, fuck, I still can’t believe I did that and I didn’t even have the fucking balls to face you or even tell you I’m sorry, and-” 
“Ellie.” You reached out and grabbed her wrist, cutting off her rambling; she flinched again but didn’t pull away. She looked up at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable and so impossibly green. “For one, do I need to remind you we were both drunk. And that I was the one who told you to kiss me?”
She watched you carefully, guarded; her bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss it again more than anything. She took in a deep, shaky breath, ignoring the tears running down her cheeks; they mixed with her freckles like watercolor. “You kept telling me to stop - to leave it alone. And I didn’t listen.” 
“Els, I told you to stop because I was scared,” you admitted in a rush. Before she could respond, you continued, “Not of you. I was scared of how badly I wanted you, okay? And that’s fucking embarrassing to admit, but I’m saying it so you know it wasn’t your fault. I was scared because… fuck.” You scrubbed a hand over your face, feeling tears on your own cheeks. “Because you’re my best friend. And I knew that, as much as I wanted it, it could fuck everything up. But I didn’t want you to stop.” 
She shook her head. Her voice was raw when she said, “You couldn’t fuck anything up. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 
“Neither did you,” you practically shouted. “Ellie, I asked you to kiss me! Yeah, I had a few shots that night, but I knew what I was doing. You asked me how long I’ve wanted it - what did I say, Els? Tell me.” 
Ellie looked up at you, her cheeks splotchy from crying; she let you slip your hand into hers anyway. “A long fucking time.” It was no more than a whisper. 
Ellie watched you, studying you like you were an equation she couldn’t figure out (she really needed to study for that astrophysics exam). She pursed her lips, nodding slowly, rubbing roughly at her damp cheeks. “Yeah.” Her voice broke again; she cleared her throat. “Yeah. Me too.” 
“Yeah,” you said, gripping her hand to keep her grounded. “Not just when I was drunk. Not just when it was late. And definitely not just when you wanted it too. I’ve wanted you for a long fucking time, Els.” 
You took a step towards her; her body was so warm it was dizzying. You could hear her breath catch when you reached up and pressed your palm to her cheek. 
“What do we do now?” 
When she sighed, you could feel it on your lips. You felt the warmth of her hand at your waist, a steady anchor. “Like you said,” she murmured, her gaze soft; she reached up to brush your hair from your face, her fingers grazing the side of your neck. “This could fuck everything up.” 
Your heart lurched; you swallowed it back down so it could throw a fit right next to your twisted stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered, afraid to break the spell that made Ellie’s eyes watch the way your lips moved, captivated. “But….” 
“But,” Ellie repeated, leaning in so her nose brushed against yours; it was cold against your skin. 
You hardly had to move to kiss her, tilting your chin up to finally kiss that pouty bottom lip you had been staring at. You heard her breath catch again, her fingers pressing at your waist, drawing you closer so the warmth of her pressed against you. After three fucking weeks, you hadn’t forgotten how her lips felt against yours. It was just as intoxicating as it had been the first time; you were dizzy with the way she moved her mouth against yours, warmth spreading through your chest. 
Ellie broke away from you, but she didn’t stray far; she pressed her forehead to yours, and you could see that her eyes were still closed, her brow furrowed. She sounded impossibly small when she said, “Are you sure about this? I mean, what-”
“Ellie,” you interrupted; you twisted your fingers into her short hair and tugged lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from her lips. “Just shut up for once, okay?” 
You hardly even heard her replied Okay before her mouth was on yours again. Last time she had kissed you, you had felt lightheaded, floating with the weight of alcohol in your veins. Each press of her hands on you had felt unreal and distant, like she was touching you in a dream. 
Tonight, the vodka bottle sat unopened and forgotten on her desk, and Ellie was pressing against you with a sharp realness that made your breath stutter in your throat. When her fingers ran along your jaw, cupping your face and tugging you closer, they were lightning against your skin. She had the welcoming warmth of a bonfire, and you were like a fucking moth drawn to her. 
Ellie took a hesitant step forward, pressing you back, moving so slowly as though she thought you’d push her away. You let her push you backwards - encouraged her, really, entwining your arms around her neck and tugging her with you. You stumbled on the last few steps, practically falling back against the wall; Ellie braced her hands on either side of you to keep herself up, laughing into your mouth. You wanted to swallow the sound, to take it into your chest where it could curl up right next to your heart. 
The wall was cold against your back, but Ellie was quick to chase it away; her warm hands ran up your back, rucking up your shirt and scratching her nails lightly over your skin until you shivered. She was so gentle with you this time, running her fingers over your skin with such careful deliberation, as though each kiss and each caress was meticulously planned out. 
It was with this painstaking consideration that she lifted your shirt, pooling it around your chest; you raised your arms so she could pull it over your head. 
Ellie snickered, snapping the strap of your bra against your skin. “This is new.” 
“Shut the fuck up,” you said, batting her hand away. It was one of your nicer ones, and you couldn't tell her that, embarrassingly, you had worn it on purpose with the hopeless thought of just in case. “Sorry I’m not in my pajamas. I’ll be sure to fix that next time.” 
She grinned, ducking her head to press a kiss to your jaw. She hummed against your skin, “No, I like it.” 
You didn’t talk about the implication of what you had said - next time. But the way she kissed her way across your jaw, her teeth grazing over your skin and sending a shiver down your spine, promised a next time. As Ellie’s tongue darted out to lick along your pulse, you could feel the words in the breathy sigh that escaped your lips. When she ducked her head to bite at your collar, she branded the words into your skin. 
“You’re such an asshole,” she said, her laughter warm against your skin. She pressed a gentle kiss to your collarbone; the bruise had long faded, but the phantom ache was still there.  You could feel her smile when your breath hitched. “Just had these on full display. Drove me insane.” 
You huffed out a laugh that stuttered when she pressed a kiss at the edge of your bra. “I had to get your attention somehow, didn’t I?” 
Ellie lifted her head to meet your eyes. Her voice was barely above a whisper, her breath brushing your lips when she said, “You’re crazy if you think you’ve ever not had my attention.” 
When she kissed you again, it was with a new fire that burned bright in your chest. Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer so that you could feel her body against every inch of you. Her fingers dipped below the waist of your pants, pressing at the soft skin there. You felt her tongue press against your lips; when she ran it along the room of your mouth, she swallowed your moan. 
Ellie hummed against your lips, pressing you firmly into the wall and shoving a knee between your legs. You gasped at the sudden friction, heat pooling in your stomach when Ellie gripped your hips and pulled you closer, grinding against her sweatpants-covered leg. Her lips brushed against your ear and she murmured, “Tell me to stop and I'll stop.” 
She had said those same words last time, pressed drunkenly into your skin. There was an affirmation hidden somewhere underneath: Do you still want me? Before, they had been slurred, like a sloppy kiss against your lips. Now, her hands steady against your hips, her body warm from something other than vodka, it was whispered like a promise. 
You answered by pressing your hands to her chest; she didn’t fight you as you pushed her away, didn’t hesitate as you walked her backwards until the back of her knees hit her bed. She let herself fall backwards, but she wrapped her arms around your waist as she did so. You fell into a crumpled heap on top of her, knocking the air from both of your lungs, and you could feel her laughter against your neck. 
Lifting yourself up on your elbows, you glared down at her; she only answered it with a grin, lifting herself just enough to kiss you briefly. You couldn’t suppress your own smile when you said, “You’re infuriating.” 
Her eyes sparkled mischievously. She hooked her fingers in your belt loops and gave them a tug as she said, “Yeah, get used to that.” 
You kissed her again to hide your smile. You didn’t talk about the inclination of that either. 
Growing impatient, you swung your legs on either side of her, sitting up and straddling her hips. Ellie’s hands ran up your sides, captivated, as though refusing to keep her hands off you for even a moment. You idly ran your fingers over her stomach where her hoodie had risen up, the warm skin right above her sweatpants; you delighted in the way she shivered at your touch. 
“This doesn’t seem fair,” you hummed, running your hand higher up her abdomen, revealing the expanse of soft skin; if you pressed just a little bit harder, you’d be able to feel the muscles beneath. You smiled when you heard her breath stutter, chest rising just slightly to meet your touch. “You’re wearing way too many clothes.” 
Ellie - ever enthusiastic - wasted no time in sitting up just enough to tug her hoodie over her head, leaving her hair an absolute mess. She tossed it across the room; you thought you heard it knock something over, but you didn’t have a chance to look before Ellie was grabbing your hips, digging her fingers into the soft skin. You gasped when she used the leverage to pull your hips down, grinding against her. 
This time, she was the one not wearing a bra - she had been home studying all day, so you hadn’t expected otherwise - and your eyes raked over miles of fair, warm skin. You wanted to run your fingers over it and watch the shiver your touch pulled from her. You wanted to press your lips to every inch of hot skin and feel the way her body arched into you, chasing your tongue. 
But she was watching you with an intoxicating shade of anticipation in her half-lidded eyes. You realized you had been staring for a few seconds too long because she had that cocky ass grin on her stupid face. 
“Like what you see?” she teased, pulling your hips down again so you had to bite down a moan. 
“Shut the fuck up,” you mumbled. You couldn’t tell her how many times you had imagined what she would look like under your hands or how you had always wondered how far down her freckles went (you couldn’t keep yourself from running your fingers down her chest, tracing them like constellations). You couldn’t tell her how your eyes had tracked her anytime she walked around the apartment in a sports bra or, sometimes, in only a towel, your imagination running away from you. 
If you told her, she’d never let you live it down.
Instead, you let your hands drift across the small swell of her chest, feeling the way her body arched into your fingers. You had to bite back a grin when your thumb brushed over her nipple, feeling her body shudder beneath you. You wanted to record the way her breath caught in her throat to listen to over and over again. Her eyelids fluttered, her lip caught between her teeth; you knelt down to kiss her, hard and deep, smiling into it when you pinched her nipple gently and she moaned against your lips, fingers tightening around your hips. 
You needed to taste her, you realized. Your mouth watered with it. 
You bit her bottom lip between your teeth, grinning when you heard her hiss. You took a moment to kiss your way across her jaw and down her neck, open-mouthed kisses pulling sighs from her lips. You couldn’t resist sucking the skin into your mouth, feeling the way her pulse jumped under your tongue and loving the moan that rumbled in her throat, her fingers gripping your hips so tightly you were sure you'd have bruises - again. But when you pulled away and saw the red beginnings of a bruise on her pale skin, a thrill ran through you. She would have to walk around with a physical reminder of how you had made her feel. 
You loved revenge. 
But you weren’t like Ellie, who had taken her sweet time in unraveling you. You didn’t have that kind of patience - certainly not now, not tonight. You had spent far too long holding yourself back - too long averting your gaze, never letting your touch linger. You had spent so long schooling your own imagination, trying to ignore the way your heart stuttered whenever Ellie wandered too close. You had spent too many nights letting your mind wander, only feeling safe to let your imagination run when you could hide in the dark; you had spent far too many nights with your hand between your legs and the fleeting image of green eyes and that crooked fucking smile. 
So no, you didn’t have any patience left in you.
When you reached between your bodies and pressed your palm to her sweatpants, you swallowed her moan, drinking it in and feeling like you could survive on it alone. Maybe it would finally satiate your fucking thirst. 
Kissing your way down her chest, you pressed the words into her skin - “I can't fucking believe you though I didn’t want this.” - before pressing the flat of your tongue to her nipple. You could get drunk on the breathy moan that dripped from her lips, the way she arched up into you like her body ached to be closer to yours. She pressed her hips into your palm and you could feel the heat through her sweatpants. 
When you pulled back just enough to tug at her sweatpants, Ellie started laughing, breathy and hitched as she said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” Even as she said it, she was lifting her hips, pushing hastily at her pants to get them off faster. 
The fabric was damp when it dropped to the floor, pooling around her ankles. Stepping off the bed, you placed your hands on her knees, pushing them apart. You dropped to your knees and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the skin above her boxers. Her skin was hot under your tongue when you said, “Haven’t I waited long enough, Els?” 
Ellie only responded with a moan as you sunk your teeth into the soft flesh of her thigh and pressed the heel of your palm to her underwear. You grinned against her skin when she cursed, grinding down into you. You soothed the bite with your tongue and backed away to admire the red beginnings of another bruise. 
Ellie groaned, twisting her fingers in the sheets when you ground your palm into her. “Fuck, I’ve waited long enough too, right?” 
You couldn’t hold back your grin, tugging at her boxers so she would lift her hips. With her underwear around her ankles, Ellie lifted herself up on her elbows so she could look down at you. Whatever she saw - you on your knees between her legs, lips parted so your hot breath fanned over her - made her groan, another breathy curse falling from her lips. She reached down and carded her fingers through your hair, fingers soft against your temple. 
You smiled, blinking coyly up at her, and said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” before pressing the flat of your tongue to her clit. 
The moan that wracked through Ellie’s chest sent warmth spreading through your stomach, an ache pooling between your legs. You raised your eyes to watch her as you licked a slow, painstaking stripe over her slit, watching the way her mouth fell open in a choked gasp. The metallic taste of her on your tongue made your head spin; you moaned when she twisted her fingers in your hair, delicious pain stinging your scalp when she tugged. 
Ellie gasped your name like it was a promise. “Fuck - what the fuck -” Nonsensical words dripped from her lips with abandon, sweet as honey to your ears. When you ducked your head down to press your tongue inside her, a brief, hot pressure, her fingers tightened in your hair, her voice hitching when she cursed again, her words slurring together. 
You wrapped one arm around her thigh, feeling the muscle trembling as you pressed your fingers into the soft flesh. You ran your other hand up her stomach, feeling the way her breath quickened in the rise and fall of her chest. Stretching further, you flicked your thumb over her nipple and tightened your arm around her thigh when her hips bucked, holding her in place. 
You wrapped your lips around her clit, sucking it into your mouth and fighting back a smile at the keening whine it pulled from her. Her fist in your hair tugged you closer, guiding you exactly where she wanted you - and how could you resist her when she was chanting your name like a prayer? 
A shudder wracked through Ellie’s body when you flicked your tongue over her clit, lapping at her like you were starving. (After waiting so long to taste her, you might as well have been.) She groaned when you pinched her nipple between your fingers, her thighs clamping around your ears. Her legs shook when she came, your name on her tongue as though it were the only word she knew. You coaxed her through it, the flat of your tongue licking over her clit until she was gasping for breath, her hips slumping back against the bed. 
You peppered kisses over her thighs as she came down, your hand brushing across her stomach in soothing circles. Your knees ached from the cold floor, the carpet burning against your skin, but you couldn’t convince yourself to move just yet. When you glanced up at her, Ellie was looking down at you with glassy eyes; she had slumped back a little against her elbows, her limbs jelly - you tried not to let that go to your head - but she held out a hand to you, grasping for you. “Fuck, come here.” 
You both took the time to finally scoot further up the bed, Ellie's head propped on her pillow, her hair a messy halo around her. She pulled you on top of her, bracing her hands on your hips as you straddled one of her legs. When you leaned down, she tilted her chin up to meet you, kissing you lazily, licking into your mouth like she had all the time in the world - like she could kiss you forever and it still wouldn't be enough. With your elbows braced on either side of her head, it felt like you were both in a small bubble, the world left outside to wait for you. Fuck, maybe you did have all the time in the world. 
You gasped when Ellie raised her leg, pressing it between your thighs with an intoxicating pressure. She used her hands on your hips to push you down, guiding you as you grinded down against her. She broke away from the kiss, taking a moment to just look at you. Her pupils were blown, swallowing the green entirely. 
She grinned, endearingly lopsided, and murmured, “Now you're wearing too many clothes.” You whined a protest when she took her hands off your hips, but she only reached behind you to fumble with the clasp of your bra. It took her a few tries - you bit back a laugh when she cursed in frustration - and she threw it across the room when she finally got off. 
“Who the fuck designed those things?” she grumbled, fingers quick on the button on your jeans. 
You got off of her for only a moment, just long enough to kick your jeans and underwear off, but each second her skin wasn't on yours was agony. Your clothes hadn’t even fallen to the floor before Ellie was pulling you back in by the nape of your neck, her other hand guiding your hips back over her leg as she kissed you with a hunger that may as well have devoured you. You hissed when her teeth sunk into your lip, her tongue soothing over it before licking into your mouth. 
Your breath caught on a broken moan when she pressed her thumb into the dips of your hips, pressing you back to grind against her leg. The feeling of your bare pussy sliding against her thigh made you lightheaded, the dizzying pressure sending sparks through your stomach. Ellie's fingers still on the back of your head twisted in your hair, giving it an experimental tug; you felt her smile against your lips when you whined. You were pliable under her hands, your hips stuttering against her leg. 
Ellie pulled away, pulling you back by your hair just far enough away for her to look at you; her eyes raked over your body with a hunger that set you nerves on fire, looking ready to devour you. 
“God, look at you,” she breathed, raising her leg just slightly, the added pressure making your heart stop. Releasing your hair, her hand ran down your side, sliding across your chest. You moaned when her thumb grazed over your nipple, your hips stuttering; her other hand on your hip tightened, fingers digging into the bone. “So fucking wet for me and I've hardly even touched you.” 
“Shit,” you cursed when Ellie bucked her hips, her thigh grinding into you. You tried to glare down at her even though you knew your own traitorous eyes betrayed your growing desperation. Her cocky smile didn’t quite land, its impact softened by the way she watched your lips in fascination, her pupils blown - you couldn’t see the green anymore. Your voice wasn’t nearly as hard as you wanted it to be, your want softening the words: “Fuck off, Els, don’t be a dick.” 
“Am I being a dick?” she asked in mock offense, pouting up at you. “Good things come and all that shit, right?” Ever as she was teasing you, Ellie’s hand crept down your stomach, fingers warm against your hungry skin. She lowered her leg just enough to slide her hand between your thighs. You gasped, feeling lightning in your veins when those calloused fingers slid over your clit, already wet with want. Her eyes darkened, her lips parting. She slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into her, and said, “Fuck, look at you. God, I finally get to see you like this….” 
You struggled to speak past the breathy moans beginning to drip from your lips: “Finally? How - ah - fuck - how long - how long have you…?” You couldn’t think of a way to finish that sentence, your thoughts clouding over when Ellie dipped just the tips of her fingers briefly inside you, gathering your wetness. 
“Like you said,” she murmured, finally pushing two fingers slowly inside you; even as she kept talking, she watched your face carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort, “a long fucking time.” 
Your jaw went slack when she curled her fingers, gasping when she found that spot that made you see stars. She paused, as though giving you a moment to adjust, unaware of just how many times you had done this with your own fingers. 
“Shit, Ellie,” you moaned, canting your hips down into her hand. She adjusted her arm, positioning herself so that the heel of her hand pressed to your clit, pulling another breathy moan from your lips. Her other hand was still on your hip; she pushed you back, guiding you to grind on her fingers. “Ah - fuck.” 
She watched you carefully, fascinated by the way your eyes rolled back in your head, your brow furrowed; you felt her own wetness on your thigh again. Her voice was so fucking breathy when she said, “How long have you wanted this, baby?” She hummed; releasing your hip, she ran her hand up your side to knead at your tit, her fingers so careful against you. You groaned low in your throat when she flicked her thumb over your nipple. “How many times have you come thinking of me? Did you imagine my fingers inside you, angel? Did you moan my name?” 
You couldn’t even think of a snarky response; you were too distracted by the way her fingers curled inside you as you fucked yourself against her. Her rough palm slid deliciously against your clit, grinding into her with a growing desperation that made your thighs shake. Your shoulders ached from holding yourself over her but it was only an afterthought as you felt a tight warmth building in your stomach. You leaned down just enough to kiss her, moaning into her mouth when words failed you. 
“Fuck, look at you,” Ellie repeated, groaning when your hips stuttered. You were lightheaded, fucking yourself desperately on her fingers, grinding down against her palm and chasing that intoxicating warmth spreading inside. “So fucking pretty for me.” 
She kissed you as you came, licking into your mouth and tasting herself on your tongue. You pressed your clit down into the heel of her hand, riding it out, feeling the way that warmth spread down to your fingers. Ellie broke away from the kiss to trail her lips down your neck, leaving wet kisses along your skin and saving every broken moan that was gasped right into her ear. 
Ellie didn’t move as you came down, letting you ride out your high, tracing gentle circles down your side. You slumped against her, your arms giving out; your weight landing on her forced all the air from her lungs. She only laughed breathlessly. 
It was several long moments before you were able to move again. Ellie ran her fingers through your hair as you gasped into her neck; she hummed absently and you could feel the vibration against your lips. 
When you were able to, you slowly lifted yourself off of her, wincing slightly at the sudden emptiness. With gentle hands, she guided you back down to lay beside her; you curled up against her without waiting for her invitation, resting a hand on her bare chest so you could feel the steady pounding of her heart. 
Ellie didn’t wait for invitation either before she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer; she was blissfully warm against the suddenly cold air. Something tugged pleasantly at your chest at the realization that you would no longer have to monitor your own movements so carefully - you could touch her, you realized, any time you wanted now. God, how were you going to ever stop now? 
Without anything else to say, you sighed against her skin: “A long fucking time.” 
Ellie hummed, giggling at your delayed answer. The fairy lights on her walls cast the room in a warm glow; with the hazy lights around you, you would almost believe this was a dream if Ellie wasn’t so solid and warm beneath your fingers. You traced the freckles across her chest, connecting constellations you had seen her chart before. 
Her voice was so quiet in the small room when she asked, “What do we do now?” 
You hummed, feeling sleep winning the war inside you. “We can figure that out tomorrow,” you said, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. Tilting your head, you leaned up just enough to kiss her, warm and deep and breathless, before moving away to meet her eyes. “Just don’t fucking run off again, okay?” 
403 notes · View notes
flowersandbigteeth · 2 days
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Looking for a saucy medieval tradition to weave into your historical romances? Have no fear, foot-of-the-gallows marriage is here! Basically, if a man was about to be hanged and a woman stepped forward and said “I will marry this man!” he was spared because it was was seen as like “oh, she’ll rehabilitate him so we don’t have to kill him.” Now, I heard this from tiktok, so I could be wrong, and it could just be a folk tale or something that rarely happened in actuality. Either way, it’s a cool troupe I think more people should use (and I myself will be using). I think it would work really well with Orcs and Elves!
This is such an intriguing idea! I had to try it. If you end up writing it, tag me, if you are comfortable! I'd love to see what you do with it ^_^
I keep getting Orc ideas, and I can't resist them *feral invasive Orc thoughts* ( ̄ w ̄)Ψ
Orc (Saber) x GN elf reader
Word Count: 6K
TW: discussion of hanging, bad mother, sfw Orc fluff, a bit of melancholy with a happy ending, nonsexual mention of private body parts in the context of bathing
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“Goodness, what’s this all about?” you grumbled, clutching your basket closer to you as you made your way through the crowd. 
The stench of rotten vegetables and too many people lingered in the air. 
“It’s a hanging,” a helpful imp beamed, hopping on his tiptoes to see over the crowd. Why people gathered all around to watch someone die, you had no idea, but more importantly, the crowd was blocking your path home. Industrious vendors selling ale and popcorn wove through the throng to collect what coins they could from the event. In the capital, everyone had a hustle, and few left the chance to make some money at the table. 
“Out of the way!” You shouted, shouldering whoever was unlucky enough to be in your way. 
The voice of the city guardsman who was reading off a list of offenses to the crowd drowned yours out, but with a few well-placed shoves, you managed to make it to the front. You were looking around, trying to figure out how to get across the plaza, when you glanced up to see a familiar face. 
“It’s you!” you blurted as your eyes locked with the brilliant chartreuse irises of the Orc standing on the gallows. 
He gave you a wan smile, lifting his tied hands to wave at you. His straight nose was up in the air as if all the rabble around him should be fortunate to have the privilege of watching him die. The thick olive locs you remembered being long had been roughly chopped short around his ears. Still, even dressed in an ill-fitting prison jumpsuit, he had a regal air about him. His barrel chest was puffed, strong muscles peaking between the frayed fabric. 
“Fifty counts of robbery…25 counts of counterfeiting gold coins…seven counts of horse theft…”
The Orc you’d met before’s name was Saber. He’d helped you get your broken cart into town one rainy afternoon…, and then he’d also stolen your necklace, which you’d realized after he’d disappeared. 
“As per the King’s edict, If any citizen pledges to save this soul from the gallows by way of marriage, please step forth.” 
Though he was handsome, no one raised their hands to save him. Instead, they all booed. Judging by the rotten vegetables hurled at him, he seemed to have robbed almost everyone in the capital. 
“Aye!” you shouted, hiking up your pants to pull yourself onto the stage. 
The guardsmen’s eyebrows shot up when you’d straightened yourself.
“I’ll marry the sorry bastard.” 
“Are you sure? He’ll most likely rob you and run off. He’s better off dead.” 
“I have business with this one,” you informed him, snapping your fingers. “Come on then. Let’s get this over with.” 
The guardsman shrugged and jerked the noose off of his neck, a little disappointed. The crowd wasn’t happy either, hurling insults along with their vegetables. 
“Quiet! Quiet!” the guardsman shouted after shoving Saber forward for the “ceremony.”
He took a deep breath, jerking a notebook out of his pocket.
“Alright,” he began, snorting. “State your name for the record.” 
“(Y/N).”
“Lovely elven name,” he murmured as he jotted it down. “Now then, do you (Y/N) take this here, criminal, Saber Wintermaple to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 
You gave him a sharp nod. 
“I do.” 
He swung a lazy eye at Saber. 
“Do you Saber Wintermaple, take this kind elf to be your betrothed?” 
He gave you a bright smile. 
“I do.” 
The guardsman snapped the book closed, shoving Saber towards you. 
“I hereby declare you two duly betrothed under the King’s law. This Orc is your problem now, citizen. You’d better keep him out of trouble, or you’ll be up here next to him!”
He handed you the thick rope looped around the binding, keeping Saber’s hands tied, and waved you two off. The audience, bored without bloodshed, had already started dispersing, making it easy for you to tug Saber towards the road leading to the forest. 
“I didn’t know I made such a pleasant impression,” Saber said cheerfully, following you out of town.
You whirled around and jammed a finger in his face. 
“I wouldn’t describe it as pleasant. You owe me a gold necklace! Give it back, or you can work off the coin you owe me!” 
He chuckled.
“I’m fresh out of coins, little elf.” 
He scratched his chin and looked up, thinking. 
“I’m pretty sure I lost that necklace in a game of dice.” 
He shrugged. 
“You lost my only possession of any value in a game of dice?” 
You scrubbed your hand over your face, counting back from ten so you didn’t explode.  
“Maybe I should have let you die.”
Frowning, you looked over him from toe to head. 
“At least you look strong enough. I’m sure I can find something useful for you to do!” 
You stopped where the two of you stood in the middle of the trail and pulled a small charm from your basket. 
“I was going to use this on my coin purse since there was a thief on the loose, but it’s probably better applied to you!” 
You looped the charm around his neck, closing your eyes to whisper the spell. A gust of spirit wind, fluffed your hair as the magic twirled around Saber. When you opened your eyes again, there was a blue thread linking the two of you that only you could see. 
“What was that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on you. 
“It’s a binding spell, so you can’t run off with my stuff again,” you explained.
His eyebrows jumped, and he tugged at the little talisman around his neck. 
“It won’t come off.” 
You nodded proudly. 
“Exactly.”
He took a moment to examine you carefully, tapping his chin again. 
“Interesting,” he murmured.  
“What? What does that mean?” 
He smiled and shrugged.
“Lead the way, spouse.” 
You sighed, turning and pulling him through the bumpy trail in the woods to your little home. When you’d fled your homeland to the Capital, you’d been lucky to find an abandoned cottage outside the city walls. It wasn’t massive, with only the basic living quarters, but it must have at some point belonged to someone’s Saber’s size, as the door and counters were much too high. You’d spent much of the money you earned selling charms and ointments, buying stools and ladders to reach things. 
“You poor thing,” Saber sighed as you passed through the magic barrier you’d cast to keep your home hidden from bandits.
“You don’t need to patronize me,” you huffed. “You’re the one almost hanged and run out of town.” 
He ignored you, looking around. 
“I feel kind of bad for stealing your necklace now that I’ve seen where you live. This place is a mess.” 
You examined your home, trying to see it through his eyes. Every available surface was covered in books, alchemy equipment, or ingredients. Even the chairs were covered in cast-off scrolls, books, or charms. 
“It’d be nice to have a workshop,” you admitted. “But that’s much too expensive.”
You straightened your slumping shoulders and lifted your chin. 
“No matter, you won’t be spending much time sitting down. I’ve got loads of things that need doing.” 
He gave you a sharp nod and held out his hands. 
“You’ll have to untie me if you want me to work.” 
Pulling a small blade from your basket, you sawed through the thick binding. Free to move as he pleased, he wrung his stiff wrists as he perused your living room. Occasionally he would pick something up, then put it down again, finally crouching to examine a bucket filled with water. 
“What are you doing?” 
He peered up at the leak in the roof that was letting rainwater drip through. 
“This needs fixing, or the roof will rot out.”
Pushing off of his knees, he turned to you. 
“How long have you been living alone?” 
You blushed, embarrassed. 
“I dunno, my whole life, I guess. The elven town where I came from didn’t have an orphanage or anything, so when I was old enough, I took off toward the capital. It took a while to get here…but here I am. I thought there would be more…I don’t know…opportunity here.” 
“How has that worked out for you? Living in a house clearly not meant for you and marrying a man on the gallows.” 
You gave him an indignant snuff. 
“At least I’m not a thief!” 
He chuckled, leaning against a bookshelf, rolling a gold coin on his knuckles. Your eyes narrowed on it, and you reached in your pocket to find you’d been relieved of your day’s earnings. 
“Hey! You stole that!” 
He laughed, revealing straight white teeth, and jingled the other coins in his pocket. 
“Don’t worry, I can’t get away with it, right?” 
You sucked in a deep annoyed breath. 
“I have things to do. Make yourself useful and chop some wood. It’s going to be cold when the sun sets.” 
“Whatever you say, spouse,” he replied, giving you a sarcastic salute as you dropped your basket and hurried to the kitchen to get started on dinner. 
What had you been thinking marrying a criminal? You paused for a moment, eyes growing misty. You didn’t really think he still had your necklace, did you? You let out a sigh just short of a sob. Were you really that lonely? Maybe it hurt that he’d been so kind to you, just to trick you. You should have been happy to see him hanged, yet the lingering magic that followed all elves had whispered that you ought to save him. 
But why? You weren’t in any position to support a husband. Though you’d instructed yourself on the knowledge of various potions and charms, you weren’t the only one. The city was teaming with Academy-bred alchemists who far surpassed your skill. They had access to rare ingredients and an army of assistants. You had to scrape out a living selling your wares far cheaper than the competition even to get noticed at the market. Hustling day to day, you certainly didn’t have the time or money to pretty yourself up to find a partner. 
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you grumbled, returning to chopping tubers for soup. 
A thick THWACK, drew your eyes out the kitchen window to Saber splitting logs across the lawn. He’d divested himself of his ratty shirt, and every thick muscle was on display as he lifted the ax over his head and dropped it down again. The logs felt apart like they were nothing more than twigs under his might. 
Your eye focused on the dark, wet slashes across his shoulder blades where his jailors had beaten him. He must have felt your eyes on him because he glanced up and waved. Blushing, you hurriedly pulled the curtains, returning to your task. 
Unable to get his injuries out of your mind, you felt bad for making him chop wood while he was hurt. When you’d plopped the tubers into your cooking pot, you gathered up some healing and numbing salves, making your way out the door. 
“Need something?” he asked, looking up from his task. 
“Sit down,” you barked. 
A thick eyebrow rose, and he tipped his head. 
“Why? Planning on lobbing my head off?” 
You wrinkled your nose at him. 
“No, of course not! You’re massive. How would I even go about burying your body? I can’t have a rotting corpse stinking up the place. Just sit!” 
He leaned his axe against the stump he was using to brace the wood and sat down on it. You dug in your basket, pulling out some cleanser to clean the wounds. Beside the big ugly gashes, Saber’s skin was a smooth, pretty green, the planes of his muscles sharp and defined. The first brush of your hand on his back made him jump. 
“S-sorry,” you muttered.
“‘Ts fine. Just not used to people touching me. Go on.” 
You spread the thick gel you used carefully over each angry line. 
“What do you mean? You’ve never had a partner before me?” 
He paused for a moment before he jerked his head. 
“I had a girlfriend once, but she left me.” 
“Why?” 
“Some noble offered her his hand and well…I couldn’t compete.”
He sighed. 
“She was happy to keep me on as her side piece, but I’ve got too much of an ego to be someone’s toy.” 
Your eyebrows jumped at his candor, but you just hummed, plastering clean wraps to his skin so the wounds could heal. His skin was warm under your fingers, making the tips tingle. When you were done, you found yourself tipping forward on your toes to peck the back of his neck. When you’d realized what you’d done, your ears burned, and you coughed loudly. 
“Sorry, ah…sorry,” you muttered, unsure what to say. “You’re…ah…going to have to sleep on your stomach, so you don’t make these worse.” 
He swiveled around to look at you, smiling. 
“Thanks, doc!”
“I’m not a doctor.” 
He shrugged. 
“What’s the difference?” 
“Ten years of special-”
You shook your head, realizing he was teasing you.
“I think that’s enough wood for tonight. Come inside. Dinner’s almost ready.” 
He grinned at you, his stomach grumbling, as he scooped up some of the wood he’d cut and tucked it under one arm. You wondered how much they let him eat in prison, worried he was starving. 
“What’d my sweet little spouse cook for me?” he asked. 
“Just some sweet potato soup. It’s not gourmet.” 
He frowned. 
“No meat?” 
You blinked at him. 
“You have all the money I made today in your pocket. How can I afford meat with those few coins?” 
He nodded, appearing to be thinking through the problem thoroughly. 
When you returned inside, you dipped the two of you bowls of soup, filling his twice as much as yours. You assured yourself it was because he couldn’t work without proper nutrition, not because you liked him. 
“So how far does this magic thingie let me go?” he asked as you sat down at the table. 
“Why, trying to run off?” 
He smirked. 
“No, why would I want to run away from you?” 
He chewed on a big spoonful of sweet potatoes before he continued. 
“I’ve got a cute little spouse who makes me dinner and kisses my cuts.” 
Your cheeks blew up in flames, and you choked on a mouthful of soup. You tried to retain your composure by quickly wiping your mouth with a napkin. 
“A couple of miles in any direction.” 
“Wow, didn’t think you’d give me such a long leash.” 
You shrugged. 
“I can’t be right at your side every minute.” 
He gave you the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. 
“You don’t want me by your side every minute of the day?” 
Unsure if he was joking or not, you jerked your spoon at his soup. 
“Let’s…stop talking for a while. Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” 
While the two of you ate quietly, you did your best to keep your eyes on your bowl. Every time you happened to glance up, he was watching you with an odd smile on his face. Almost like satisfaction. 
You were relieved when you finally finished and could turn your back on him to rinse the dishes. 
“You can take the bed if you want,” you called over your shoulder as you stood on your tip toes to return the bowls to the cabinet. As your arm stretched, Saber appeared behind you, plucking the dishes out of your hand and easily placing them where they were supposed to go. 
“Where are you going to sleep?” he asked, extending a hand to help you off of the little ladder you were perched on. 
“There’s a couch in the living room.” 
He wrinkled his nose. 
“It’s covered in stuff.” 
You shrugged, trying to hurry past him. 
“I’ll clean it up.”
You found your feet swinging in the air as he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder. 
“Wh-what are you doing?” 
“My spouse is not sleeping on the sofa. I never thought I’d have a spouse, so I’ve got to take proper care of you.” 
He patted your butt for emphasis. 
“Are you crazy?” you snapped, only not banging on his back with your fists because he was injured. “We can’t sleep together! We just met!” 
Your body bounced on his shoulder as he chuckled. 
“You weren’t concerned with that when you insisted on marrying me!” 
“They were going to kill you!” 
He flopped you down on your bed, caging you in with his big arms. His head dipped to drag the tip of his nose along the length of your neck. 
“So you do like me!” he whispered into your skin. 
“I do not,” you huffed, pushing his chest.
Though your muscles did nothing to move him, he rose so you could scoot out across the bed. You quickly scrambled into the bathroom to change into your pajamas. 
When you came back out, Saber was slipping off his pants. 
“What are you doing now?” You gasped, cheeks heating at the sight of the thick shaft hanging between his legs.  
He glanced up, a slight smirk on his face as he folded his clothes. 
“I can't sleep in these prison clothes. I'll get the sheets all dirty!” 
You sighed, rubbing your eyes. He was right. He was filthy from sleeping on dirty straw in prison. 
“Come on,” you said, flicking two fingers at him. “You need a bath. You’re probably covered in fleas! 
Fortunately, your house came equipped with one large enough to fit Saber’s big body. With a flick of your fingers, the tub was filled, and with a few whispers of a spell, the water was hot. 
“Get in,” you said. 
Making himself comfortable, he looked back at you over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. 
“You tryin’ to watch? Naughty little elf!” 
You let out a long sigh. 
“No, I’m just going to ensure you don’t get your bandages wet, or it will all have been a waste. Supplies are expensive,” you huffed, picking up the sponge. “Now, sit still!”
Saber smirked but let you lift each of his arms as you scrubbed him. 
“So how did your old girlfriend take it when you decided you wouldn’t be your affair partner?”
He glanced at you, eyes ever thoughtful. His long look brought heat to your cheeks. 
“Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” 
He shrugged, his jaw tightening. 
“She was rather smug. She spent her whole life wishing to elevate herself.” 
A long sigh slipped past his lips. 
“I could never make her happy. I lied, cheated, stole; whatever I could do…but she looked down her nose at all of it.”
Your mouth fell open. 
“I’m…I’m sorry. You don’t have to…”
He waved a thick hand, his warm palm gently landing on your head and lightly ruffling your hair. 
“Think nothing of it. It’s kind of nice to get it off my chest.” 
“So that’s why you're a crook? To make her happy?”
He smirked. 
“I was a crook. Now I’m a married man. I can’t get into trouble. I have a spouse who relies on me.” 
He pinched your chin. 
“Prison was difficult enough without knowing I was missing out on such a cute little face. Now, it would crush me.” 
Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you jerked your head away, grabbing the nearest towel and tossing it to him. 
“Careful, don’t jostle your bandages,” you wheezed before making your escape. “Whoever lived here before left some clothes in the chest by the door. They ought to fit.” 
You were so busy slowing your beating heart that you blew out the lantern and slid into your bed without thinking Saber would soon follow. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to feign sleep, when you heard his heavy footsteps approach. He paused for a moment, doing Goddess knows what, before he carefully laid down next to you. 
The mattress dipped under his weight, and your body slid into his. You heard him draw in a sharp breath as your warm forms pressed together. 
“Mind your wounds. Make sure you sleep on your side,” you whispered into the darkness. 
You felt him adjust slightly, and then a heavy arm draped over your waist. Despite yourself, it was warm and the weight felt nice. Comforting. Now that he’d used your soap, he smelled like home. His breath brushed the hairs on your neck and another arm slid underneath you to use as a pillow. You would have pulled away, but you’d never slept so close to someone before. 
Living on the street for most of your life, left you with scars. You didn’t realize how deep they’d cut you until Saber’s large body curled around yours. You felt safe. 
When you woke the next morning, the bed next to you was empty. Your heart thumped heavily in your chest, wondering where he’d gone. Had it all been a dream? 
The pile of dirty prison clothes folded and placed on top of a chest proved that it had not. 
Breathing slowly, in the meditation you’d taught yourself, you stretched your awareness out, reaching for the blue thread. Saber was half a mile from you. You wondered what he could possibly be doing. 
“Orc things, probably,” you muttered, making your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up. 
It wasn’t like he could run off; there was nothing in that direction but trees. Through the window, you could see the sun up over the tree line, telling you that you’d slept much later than usual. 
Usually, you’d have left at sunrise to sell your wares in the Capital market, but it was far too late now. Instead, you grabbed an apple from the kitchen and started fussing with your alchemy materials. Now that Saber was living with you, you were sure you needed to straighten up so he didn’t break something. 
Walking across the room, you automatically skipped around the bucket on the floor; only the bucket was gone. You frowned, but looking at the ceiling, someone had replaced one of the boards with a fresh one. Had Saber done that while you were sleeping? 
You huffed, returning to straightening your books. At least he’s putting himself to work. 
You were trying to remember the order in which a pair of books written in ancient elven were arranged alphabetically when the bell above your door jingled. 
Since your home was hidden with magic, the bell told you someone was nearby. It was a charm you rarely used. No one had any reason to look for you. The most it had rung was when you ordered a special cauldron or tomb and happened to have the cash to have it delivered. 
Curious if a traveler was lost, you put your books down and wandered outside. 
“Morning, spouse!” 
Saber’s voice made you jump when he appeared hauling a deer on his shoulders. 
“What’s that?” 
He shrugged the creature off of his shoulders. 
“Meat!” he announced proudly. 
You nodded at him, your eyes catching on his bare chest, glazed with a sheen of sweat. 
“Where are you off to?” he asked. 
“Someone is here,” you murmured, forcing your gaze from the sharp planes of his muscles to continue down the path. 
A shadow draped over you, and you glanced up to see him looming. 
“What are you doing?” 
“I’m going with you. It could be someone dangerous.” 
You shook your head but continued on your way with him in tow. 
“Helloooo? Helllloooo?” 
A female voice was screaming through the trees. When you rounded the bend, your eyes landed on an expensive carriage and a beautiful fairy shouting at the top of her lungs.  Her pink hair fell in glittering curls around her shoulders, and matching wings emerged from her back.
“Damn it! Saber! Where the fuck are you?” 
“Can I help you?” you asked as you stepped through your magic barrier. 
Her eyes narrowed, but not on you. She looked directly behind you. 
“Saber! There you are!” 
She grinned, fluttering her winds and flying past you. Irritation immediately pricked your heart as the woman threw her arms around him. Turning around, you found him looking at her with wide eyes. 
“Melody…what are you doing here? How did you find me?” 
“I’m here to see you, of course. I heard you were going to be hung, but an elf saved you! I asked around the market and was told you’d been taken here. I was so worried!” 
When she cupped his chin with her delicate hand, you crossed your arms, eyes narrowing. 
“Not someone. Me.” you interjected. 
You marched towards Saber and grabbed him by the arm. 
“Saber is my husband. Who are you?” 
She wrinkled her nose at you, ignoring your question. Her hand slid down Saber’s chest despite you. 
“Is there someplace we can talk? Privately?” 
Saber’s shocked face tightened. 
“I don’t think that’s an appropriate ask in front of my spouse, Melody.” 
She scoffed. 
“You’ve been married…what? 8 hours? Saber, I think I more than deserve a little of your time. Especially as the mother of your child.” 
Your jaw dropped, and your hand pulled away from Saber. It was true, you’d only known him for a few hours, but a child was something he ought to have mentioned.��
His brow drew, looking between you and her. 
“What child?” 
She huffed, frowning at you. 
“Fine…If you must do this, this way.” 
She turned to the carriage and yelled. 
“Nora, bring the baby!” 
A maid climbed out of the carriage holding a small whimpering bundle. You gasped as the woman presented Saber with a little green newborn. 
Saber’s eyes popped, his mouth opening and closing as the maid pressed the child into his hands. 
“This…he…is mine?” 
Melody nodded. 
“Yes, and it’s time for you to take responsibility.” 
He glanced up at her. 
“You want to get back together?” 
She let out a cruel but trilling laugh. 
“Oh heavens no. I need you to take him. Dante hasn’t seen him yet. He thinks I’ve delivered his child. I had the maids tell him I was recovering for the past month so I could sneak him out. If he finds out I’ve been carrying your baby this whole time, he’ll throw me out on the street!” 
Anger roiled under your skin. 
“So what baby are you going to present to him?” you demanded. 
She snorted as if that were a foolish question. 
“I’ll get a baby from the slums. Plenty of mothers would happily give their child the life of a Lord’s son without question.”
She fluttered her iridescent wings. 
“It only need be a fairy child.” 
You could see the pain and confusion settle on Saber’s face. Stepping between the two of them, you gently pried the bundle out of Saber’s hands, looking at his cute little button nose and glossy baby curls. 
“Of course, we will take him, but on one condition.” 
She glanced at you. 
“What do you want? Money?”
You let out a tight chuff. 
“No. We never want to see you again. If he is our baby, he is ours. Don’t think you can change your mind and come running back here looking for him or Saber. The second you step foot in your carriage, this child and my husband are dead to you.” 
Her eyes jerked to Saber. 
“Saber. You can’t mean that. Of course, I want to see you…Dante, however, can’t know. You understand, don't you? This is everything we've dreamed about! You ought to support me!"
You scoffed, rolling your eyes.
"I grew up in the gutter, too," you hissed. "But I'd never treat someone the way you have treated my husband. He is too good for you and I won't tolerate you buzzing around us like a nasty fly."
She glared at you.
"He's my child! You're just jealous Saber and I have history!"
Saber's jaw locked, and he put his arm around you, giving her a disgusted grimace. 
“Have you named him?” he asked. 
She looked contrite but lifted her chin. 
“I…ah…it didn’t occur to me...” 
He nodded and glanced down at you, holding his child. 
“Then…I agree with (Y/N). You’ll never know his name. You’ll never see him grow. You’ll never return to ruin our peace.” 
“But Saber-” 
“Don’t say my husband’s name, either.” you snapped. “You thought you’d come here and drop all of your responsibilities in his lap and then keep stringing him along as a toy? It’s not going to work like that. You have your family, and we have ours.” 
You jerked your chin at her. 
“Make your choice. Either leave the child or be prepared to explain to your husband who he belongs to. Those are the only options.”
Her pretty face contorted into an ugly, wrinkled mask, and she lifted her skirt to turn on her heels. 
“Fine! It’s not like I want the child of a thief anyway!”  
Snapping at her maid, she hovered back to her carriage, and they disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust. You smiled down at the little baby, who’d managed to sleep through the drama. 
“Saber, I know I shouldn’t have spoken for you…I just- He deserves better than to grow up with the knowledge his mother believes him to be less than. Can you imagine him living as her secret? Sneaking around to hide him? If she passed him in the street, she’d ignore him to preserve her status. He’d be heartbroken. I won’t let that happen. I hope I didn’t overstep, but I’m not sorry for it.” 
He dropped to his knees, eyes wet, and pushed his head into your shoulder. His big arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tight.
“You said just the right thing,” he murmured, then turned his head to look at his son. “What should we name him?” 
You smiled at him. 
“Let’s talk it over over lunch.” 
The two of you walked back down the path together, both having a hard time keeping your gaze off the baby. He wriggled in his sleep, making you both see hearts.
“Maybe we should move,” you murmured. “Just to be sure…and to give him a fresh start.” 
He looked down at you. 
“You won’t miss this place?” 
You sighed. 
“No…this is just a house. We have a family now. He should grow up in a happy little town, not the capital…we’ll have to save for a few months, but I think we can do it.” 
“We don’t have to save. I have plenty of money.” 
You froze in your tracks, looking up at him.
“What? I thought you said you were broke?” 
He smiled down at you. 
“I meant I didn't have any coin on me. I didn’t just piss all of my ill-gotten gains away. I hid them. Follow me.” 
He tugged the two of you into the forest, walking quite a ways until you reached an oddly placed rock. Saber crouched down and uprooted a bush with a stiff jerk. Then he cleared the soil away, revealing a wooden chest. He turned the little dial a few ways until it clicked, and the chest opened with a creak. Your eyes widened at the hundreds of gold coins piled inside. He casually tugged the gold he’d lifted from you out of his pocket and tossed it inside with a metallic clink. 
“I think we can buy a nice place with this.” 
You were still completely confused. He rummaged around in the coins, producing the gold necklace he’d stolen. Standing, he fastened it around your neck with the nimble fingers of a thief.
“I thought you lost it gambling?” 
He shrugged. 
“I lied.” 
“Why did you keep it?” 
He gave you a long look.
“I’m not sure, to be honest. Something told me not to sell it.” 
“But…what about the rest? I thought you gave it all to Melody?” 
“I tried to…we grew up in the capital, in the same slums she wants to buy a baby from. It wasn’t ever about what I could provide her. She wanted to erase her past. She wanted a title…to be a lady, to be able to lift her nose at the very people she grew up with.
I started saving after she failed at her first attempt at seducing some highborn. At the time, I had this romantic dream that I could surprise her with a big house, start a business, and be the Lord she wanted so badly…but… as time passed, I realized I was already tainted in her eyes. She wanted the right blood attached to her money. It took me too long to be ready to pull away. Dante was the nail in the coffin, so to speak.” 
He tugged the chest from the ground, hauling it onto his shoulder before leading you back through the forest.  
“Even though I knew I wasn’t enough…I foolishly still loved her. I was a mess when he proposed. That’s why I got caught. I went on a bender that lasted most of a year…Fortunately, I never touched this. Maybe I held out hope since Melody still entertained my attention…but I got sloppy and ended up in jail.” 
His gaze dropped to the baby. 
“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn't have ever known about him. Anything could have happened to him if you hadn’t-”
He choked a bit, a couple of tears slipping down his cheek. You didn’t push him to finish his sentence. You knew what he was trying to say. 
“What about Arel?” you asked. 
“Arel? That sounds like an Elvin name.” 
You smiled at the little baby’s chubby cheeks. 
“It is…it means ‘treasure’.” 
He stopped, bending down to examine his son more closely. The baby’s eyes opened, and you saw that they were the same pretty chartreuse as his father’s. The two of them looked at one another in awe. 
“I like Arel,” he said, brushing a thick finger over his cheek. 
Arel’s big eyes grew wet, and he started to croon. 
Shock and worry bloomed on Saber’s face. 
“Is he okay?” 
“I think he’s hungry. I have some goat milk at home.” 
Saber straightened, and you had to almost jog to keep up with him, the two of you hurrying home to start your life as a family.
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dearreader · 23 hours
Text
k so i made this poll awhile ago to answer my question on if people would rather spend a date with a swiftie or an anti-swiftie (someone who hates her and devotes their life to hating on her). i mentioned i didn’t have the spoons to handle it being longer than a day and know it was going to be biased as it would start in my circle and would work it’s way out, so i wanted to do a longer poll when i had the energy to handle a week long poll like that. (i’m assuming when i post this, as i’m pre making it, i’ll be in recovery from my nose surgery since i’ll be stuck at home a week so i’ll have more time to monitor and look at the tags)
so nows the time, but i’m going to addendum the question a bit:
*some extra things that came up on the original poll i didn’t elaborate on fully that i want to make clear:
- you don’t get a say in what type of swiftie you get. assume that you’re going to be spending the evening with someone who massively loves her and her music and wants to discuss it. they’ll talk about songs, their favorite lines and meanings, symbolism behind the reputation album, etc.
- YOU MUST TALK ABOUT TAYLOR SWIFT. even if it’s the anti-swiftie you must talk about her. i understand the sentiment people made on her not coming up, and that’s valid, but that’s not the question i’m asking. YOU HAVE TO SPEND THE EVENING WITH SOMEONE WHOS GOING TO TALK ABOUT TAYLOR SWIFT NONSTOP, WILL IT BE THE LOVER OR HATER?
- im just trying to gather a general consensus on this and want to get data from a lot of people which means this is going to end up on people’s blogs who probably hate swifties and are annoyed by them. that’s okay as that’s the point of my question. but if you’re going to go off in the tags about how much you hate her or hate swifties and be an asshole about it im blocking you. you can just simple say “i hate her/i hate swifties” and don’t need to elaborate. you don’t need to sit in the tags going off on how much you hate her and trying to “defend” yourself from swifties. i just want an answer to the question.
- ALSO, this is not an open poll to go harass anyone in general. if you are a swiftie and see an hater in the tags and wanna fight DON’T FUCKING DO IT. just block and go read/watch your favorite media and think of blorbos kissing or whatever, but DO NOT SEND HATE OR HARASS ANYONE.
the hypothesis im trying to prove is that people in general would much rather spend an evening with someone that is going to talk about something they love all night vs someone who will spend the evening talking about something they hate. i want to gather as much data as possible to get a good consensus and if you go and be an asshole to someone because of their tags on this poll, either side of the swiftie to anti-swiftie spectrum, your disproving the point. if you see tags you don’t like just simply block and carry on. understand? k good.
- in general this is not meant to be a very serious or heavy question. it’s meant to just let me pick people’s brains and see what they’d want to do. i just want to get my results and go. just vote, drop your opinion in the tags, and go.
- also, this last part is silly and not at all related to my data, but since i’m forcing you on a dinner date i’ll at least let you pick the restaurant and food you have. so if you could also say what restaurant/food choice you’d want and what you’d want to order i’d love to hear it. sky’s the limit here. go nutz or even very specific on what you’d want to eat. i am trying to learn to cook and don’t know a lot of recipes or different food types, so i’m hoping this will give me a bigger idea of what food is out there to make. (this question is not meant to be a way to stick it to anyone or for you to go “i’ll go to a shitty ass restaurant and take a swiftie/anti-swiftie and make them eat garbage 🤪”, it’s just a fun question to give people something positive to add to the poll if they want. AGAIN IF YOUR GOING TO BE AN ASSHOLE ILL BLOCK YOU.)
- i’m going to be annoying and ask that you reblog for a wider sample size and such, if you don’t want to that’s fine, but i’m going to be polite and ask you nicely.
that should be everything, thank you for reading my long ass list and voting in this poll. i hope you have a good day and such.
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angelltheninth · 16 hours
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can you do one with Ayato, wriothesley, diluc, alhaitham, and whatever character you like where they're lowkey obsessed with darling (a lil too much) and reader knows it and is definitely into it. Its to the point reader even triggers their yan instincts on purpose; wearing more revealing clothes that are equally as modest, talking more to men or other people in general more than them, stuff like that.
Preferably with hints of smut or implied, and lots of visible possessiveness.
Idk if ur still writing yan stuff so if ur no longer comfortable with writing stuff like this js ifnore this.
I'm okay with writing this, thank you for asking.
Pairing: Diluc, Ayato, Al-Haitham, Wriothesley x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, yandere fluff, possessiveness, marks, biting, kissing, protectiveness, obsession
A/N: I can only write soft yandere content.
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Diluc has you work for him only so he can keep a better eye on you, or rather so he can keep people away from you. There's also you wearing his signature colors that drives him up the damn wall and he can hardly contain himself when he sees you being so touchy and sweet with the people who come to drink. It's your job yes, but you're also his girlfriend so you should only run your hands up his arm like that.
Ayato doesn't have a ton of time to spend with you because of work but he makes very sure there are many signs of who you belong to when you're on your own. When you're his he is also aware that you're a target of many people, often you don't go out much if it's not in his company or a bunch of guards that know better than to try anything that would make him angry. If you go out with him he never lets go of your hand, you're to precious to let go.
Al-Haitham hates it when you tease him by talking other men in front of him. Well not even teasing, just being a little too friendly for your own good, giving people ideas that they shouldn't have because you're already in a relationship with a very loving boyfriend. The normally calm and collected Akademic kisses you with passion no one thought him capable of, all to make sure they know you're his, and that you know it too.
Wriothesley knows not to let his fists do the talking in situations like this, after all it's not your fault you're so beautiful that other men drool over you. But it is your fault that you chose to wear a dress that shows so much skin and all your soft curves. However you also chose the dress that does a wonderful job of showing off every bite mark on your body, from ankle to your neck, leaving nothing to the imagination of last nights activities.
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bella-goths-wife · 2 days
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How would the Vees reaction to their pet falling to stockholm syndrome? Do they loose interest, do they become more obsessive, does this make them act out more to try and gain more control? So many questions!
Yandere Vs reaction to pet reader falling to Stockholm syndrome
Warnings: Valentino, abuse, punishments, verbal abuse, pushing boundaries
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I think it all depends on in what way the Stockholm Syndrome presents itself
If it meant that you becoming less hesitant about doing what they asked and being more submissive while still retaining your personality and keeping your humanity in tact, they would adore it
They would instantly become more obsessive over you, because the lack of resistance would mean that they would get more pieces of you than before
They’d get to experience a certain vulnerability with you, and it would make them feel powerful to know what a command they have over you
I mean, you actually look at them with affection now
You’ve accepted your respective role as their daughter figure/pet/personal entertainment
And this would cause many more fights over who could have you for the day
They have an established schedule put in place for you because at the start of you working there, there would be many times when one of them would interrupt you when you were working with another one and steal you away
So they made a schedule that is only allowed to be disobeyed for punishments or emergencies
But after you become less resistant to your role, they’ll all want to spend every moment with you
So one will interrupt another one’s day with you and cause an argument over you
But Vox will quickly fix this by updating the schedule to suit these needs and forcing you to spend more time with them outside of the working hours
However, if Stockholm syndrome caused you to be more submissive while also loosing your personality they would absolutely hate it
Sure they love that your following orders, but your not filling their social or entertainment needs while doing so
They wanted you less resistant, but they didn’t want to completely break you
You wouldn’t fulfil your role as their pet, your just an emotionless puppet who cleans up after them
They will do anything they can to bring out your personality again
At first it was bribing you with things that are seen as rule breaking, such as offering you time outside the tower without them or being let out past curfew
But you didn’t want to leave without them, you said that you couldn’t break the rules
So they started leaving situations for rule breaks out for you to try and coax your spirit back, like leaving food your not allowed to eat out or pushing you to spend alone time with someone they knew you were physically attracted to
But you’d leave the food and always kept it professional with your old crush
So they turned to punishments
They went through voxs punishments, and nothing
And then velvettes, still nothing
And finally Valentino’s punishments, and still nothing
They even did all there punishments combined when they became desperate, but you just accepted it and asked how you could improve your work for next time
They gave up, they couldn’t do it anymore
They still somewhat cared for you, in their own sick ways
So they wouldn’t completely lose interest, your very presence would be enough to keep some interest going
And your useful, so they would keep you around and they don’t move you out from their floor of the tower to the employees floors because they still have some care for you
And sometimes they will all come in for some affection from you, although it isn’t as fun for some of them anymore
Even though your still useful, they keep you around kinda like you’d keep the extremely old dog that can’t care for itself anymore because they were passed on to you
Your just no fun for them anymore, but that doesn’t mean they can’t keep you around for when they feel the need to hurt or hold someone
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Tag list so far :)
@buttercupfangirl @the-faceless-bride @lilyalone @repostingmyfavs
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teddiesworldd · 22 hours
Text
after the world ends.
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ghost finds you out in the woods during a zombie outbreak and falls in love with you. (2.6K words)
a/n: i feel like my shorter fics always do much better than my longer ones but i just couldn't help myself - this idea has been on my mind for a while and it was so sweet i just had to write it down and share it with you <3 also, if you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know!
pairing: ghost x female reader
tags/warnings: nsfw, mdni!!, apocalypse au, mentions of weapons, killing (zombies), survival situation, unprotected p in v sex, cute fluffy stuff in the middle of a zombie apocalypse because why not?!, soap makes an appearance
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day 17 of the apocalypse, 3 weeks after the first outbreak.
you had lasted this long purely by camping out in the back of your car, rationing whatever you'd managed to bring in from your kitchen at the beginning of it all. but as supplies got low and you were down to your last water bottle, you were forced to venture out into the nearby woodland, gathering whatever you could forage from the streams and bushes. you knew absolutely nothing about surviving out here. you couldn’t hunt and could barely light a fire. the first day of winter was in less than a month and you had no real shelter to keep you warm. you had no idea which berries were safe to eat or how to filter water. all you had was your kitchen silverware for protection and your best winter jacket for the weather.
you’d last about 2 weeks out here at best, and that’s without the fucking zombies. 
you'd been walking for about an hour since leaving your car, and to be honest, you didn’t think you could find your way back now. everything looked the same. you had found only a pocketful of what you could only guess was edible, and a protein bar from the pocket of a dead guy’s jeans. every single noise scared the hell out of you. and the bite marks on his neck raised your adrenaline tenfold. 
thud. thud. snap.
footsteps. sticks breaking underfoot. 
“who’s there?” you called out. “i’m- i’m serious, come any closer and… and… i’ll kill you!”, shouting now, cold hand gripping your rusted kitchen knife tightly.
you saw a huge figure behind the trunk of a nearby tree, and he chuckled lowly at your brave attempt to scare him away. “you don’t scare me, sweetheart”, the voice said, deep and rough, walking out from behind the tree, “thought y'were a rabbit or something - cute lil' thing, rustling in those bushes. and if i was infected, you’d be dead by now, with a mouth on you like that.”
he was an absolute giant of a man, 6 and a half foot at least and built like a brick shithouse. he was in full military gear, skull mask over his face, armed with a rifle in hand and knives strapped to his chest and belt. he approached you slowly, palms facing you like he was trying not to spook a stray cat. part of you wondered if you were hallucinating - you'd not been sleeping well from the nightmares of the infected night after night.
“no use shouting, anyway - they’ll find you straight away making all that noise.” he continued, leaves crunching under his black boots, walking closer, “what’s a girl like you doing out 'ere, all alone?”
you were frozen in place, like a deer in headlights. he was already intimidating as fuck without the massive armoury hanging round his waist, but now he was so close you could feel his breath on your face. a thought crossed your mind that if he tried to kill you now, there would be absolutely nothing you could do to stop him. it made a shiver run down your back.
his gloved hand reached out to hold your chin. you looked up at him, eyes welling up from the pure fear that ran through you.
“lost?” he said quietly, tilting his head to get a proper look at you. 
you nodded slowly.
“well, you won’t get far with that old thing, love” he smirked through the mask, eyeing the blade in your hand. “here, i’ll take you back to camp with me, make you a proper meal, yeah? when did you eat last?”
you engaged in some light small talk on the way, finding out he was called “ghost” and he used to serve in a special operations unit for a private military company. i guess it made sense that the best survivors would be the soldiers. you mentioned how you’d been living in your car for the past two weeks, which seemed to amuse him. he probably thought you were just some dumb girl who’d somehow managed to scrape through until now.
he wasn’t wrong, really.
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his camp was much nicer than the back of your car. 
it wasn't far from where he'd found you. they had lots of weapons and food and beds. and people. there must of been about 10 men in total. the infected weren’t really an issue with their impressive arsenal. there was a large fence surrounding the camp and the men took it in turns to kill anything that tried getting inside. it was pretty clear that ghost was closest to one of the other ex-military guys called soap. they sat together when they ate and stayed up late at night talking together around the fire - matching dog tags glinting in the dim light. you often watched them through your tent door - enjoying their company but not wanting to interrupt their conversation. you listened as they talked deeply, recounting their time serving together, telling stories of bravery and bloodshed. it became your routine to fall asleep listening to them.
after about 3 or 4 weeks, following the first snowfall, you’d adjusted to life in the camp. you'd managed to pick up a few skills from soap, who often spent the mornings taking you hunting or showing you how to use the guns - a hand on your waist as he lined you up for the kill shot. he had a sweet nature and silly charm to him, telling you ridiculous jokes that only made you laugh because they were so stupid. you would never tell him that though - he thought you found him hilarious.
however, it was ghost you’d grown closest to, giving you anything and everything you needed. he was mysterious and that drew you to him. one time, he took you down to the river to wash the cookware and yourselves, and you'd caught a glimpse of him pulling off his clothes and mask, blonde hair and muscles seeing the light of day. you couldn't deny it - he was gorgeous.
he often checked on you in the evenings, making sure you’d settled in okay. he sat next to your bed, running a gloved hand over your head, rubbing small circles into your scalp.
“you like the boys?” he’d ask, “they treating you okay?”
and you’d nod, just like you’d do every night.
“not scared, are you, doll?”
you shook your head.
“good. just making sure.”
and with that, he’d leave, heading to his own tent to rest, or out to guard the fence.
but one night, before he got up to get some sleep, you grabbed his hand. he looked back at you, dark eyes watching yours.
“stay?” you whispered.
and he did, without a word. stripping off his heavy gear and perching next to you in bed, rough camo trousers scratching against your bare shoulder. 
and he stayed, just like you asked. watching over you like a dog and keeping you safe.
sometime in the night, you’d turned to face him where he sat, resting an arm over his thigh. but he didn’t push you off. he just let you rest - your warm breath causing a dampness throughout the tent. 
it was only when the winter sunlight streamed through the tent that you realised he really did stay - all night. you opened your eyes to see he’d settled in next to you, his sleeping body alongside yours in the small camp bed, your arm still around him. 
and when you tried to pull yourself away out of embarrassment, he pulled it back, keeping it over his chest. 
“for warmth, yeah?” he said quietly, voice all deep and sleepy.
and how could you argue with that? these were trying times, after all. 
after a moment's silence, he said “you’re a pretty thing, love. always thought so, even when i first met you and you were all scared and dirty.” he continued, heavy eyes looking down at your vulnerable form. “soap thinks so too, but you’re mine, yeah? i found you - you’re mine.”
there was something about the possessive glint in his eye that showed you he really meant it - his gaze trailing down from your face to your uncovered hips that had shuffled out the sheets in your sleep.
"cm'ere" he said, taking your arm in his grasp and pulling you towards him. "i mean it, love. do you wan' to be mine?" eyes watching your face to see how you'd react to his question. your faces were close now, closer than they'd ever been. he'd looked after you so nicely, giving you everything you needed, protecting you from harm all this time. you couldn't help but agree with him. how could anyone not fall for this attractive man who cared for you so much? and the feeling of his chest under your hand made you fall for him even harder.
"yeah," you whispered against his masked face "...yours."
your small hand reaching up to reveal his lips under his mask. he pulled you in, kissing you softly. it was short but there was so much behind it. you could tell he wanted more but he was holding back. he didn't want to accidentally push you away by moving too fast. he pulled back to look at you, hands cupping your soft face, which was still clouded with sleep.
"you're so beautiful, you know that?" he spoke so softly now. it was like the walls he'd put up had fell instantly. he just wanted a moment to be yours. no one else's. not the camp's cook or the guard or the hunter. just yours and nothing else.
you pulled yourself back to his face, kissing him again but soon moving your lips down to kiss his chin, and then his neck. but you didn't get far before he stopped you.
"no, no, love. let me take care of you - you deserve it." he said, turning you around so you were on your back, head resting on your plush pillow as his touch relaxed you.
it was almost as if for just a moment, you weren't in the middle of a fucking nightmare. you were at home, in your own bed. maybe you'd met him at work or out on a date - anywhere that wasn't in a forest full of zombies. and he'd taken you out for dinner a few times and you'd decided he was sweet enough to be kissing down your body, rolling his tongue over your nipples.
but here you were, in a camp full of strangers, being transported by this man who you barely knew, covered only by the walls of a thin tent. but it just felt so right to let him take you like this. you trusted him with your life. and in return he worked your body like magic. his touch was so gentle - yet his skin was so rough compared to your own.
"you want me inside you, baby?" he spoke to you so softly, having kissed down to the top of your underwear now. his eyes watched you, waiting for your permission to carry on.
"please," you replied, "i want you."
that was all he needed to hear. he pulled off his shirt and your underwear, tossing them both to the side. he admired your body shamelessly, eyes tracing the outline of your waist and your body. you couldn't help but do the same, entranced by the way his muscles practically glowed in the light that streamed through the tent. he was built like a rugby player, pure muscle but with a good layer of fat on top to smooth everything out. you watched as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his cock.
he was huge. you knew he was a big guy but you weren't expecting it to apply to all of him. it was definitely bigger than anyone you'd ever been with. his tip was an angry shade of red from how hard he was, precum running down his shaft. noticing the expression on your face, he reassured you.
"don't worry, i'll be gentle with you."
he lined himself up with your entrance, your wetness being enough to allow himself to push slowly inside. it stretched you more than you ever had been, causing you to hiss as it dipped inside you. he bent forward down to kiss you sweetly, silencing your pained noises, shushing you each time his lips left yours. he continued to move in until he bottomed out inside of you.
"you okay?" he grunted, "tell me when to move, love."
you paused for a moment, adjusting to his size before nodding to let him know he could start moving.
he didn't fuck like you expected him to. you thought a guy like him would be railing you like an animal, but no. he made love to you, his slow but deep thrusts hitting all the perfect spots in your gummy walls. it was pure bliss, and he thought so too, struggling to keep back his grunts each time he thrust into you.
"fucckkkk baby," he'd say, dog tag hanging down as he fucked you, "your pussy is so tight, gripping me so good". he hooked your legs behind his back and moved his big hands onto your hips to hold you in place. " is it good for you too, doll? you look so pretty with that fucked-out look on your face." he went on, smirking at you like he was proud of his work.
you couldn't even form words, let alone piece together a decent response. he felt amazing, pulling all the way out so only his tip was inside of you and then pushing all the way back in again, until you were an absolute drooling mess, jaw slack and whining on his cock. and just when you thought it couldn't get any better, he moved his hand between your legs and rubbed lazy circles on your clit with his thumb. almost instantly your pussy started pulsing around him - with you blubbering out incoherent swears and moans - having sent you completely over the edge in a matter of minutes. he wasn't far away either - your clenching making his hips stutter back and forward as he helped you ride through your orgasm. you could of swore you were seeing stars by the time he pulled out of you and came over your stomach with a moan, pressing his forehead to yours.
it took you both a few minutes to come back down again, giggling and kissing his lips once more. your arms found their way around his neck, holding him close to you. you were both a panting mess, clothes discarded across the tent floor and the scent of sex heavy in the air.
"my girl- you're gorgeous," he managed to huff out, catching his breath. " 'm never getting over you."
when news broke that a zombie apocalypse was spreading, you had no idea it would lead to this hunk of a man in bed with you - spoiling you and loving you like this. you weren't complaining, though. not at all. at least something good came from it.
he cleaned you up so carefully, being sure not to press too hard on your sensitive body. and when he'd made sure you were okay, he brought you something to eat and led down with you, stroking up and down on your back, drawing shapes and letters on your skin. part of you couldn't believe this was the same guy who you watched shoot a zombie in the face through the fence the other day. his hands were so gentle, always cautious not to hurt you under his touch.
and as your eyes grew heavy again, revelling in his embrace, you heard him say something into your skin.
"simon," he said quietly, face buried in your neck. "my real name's simon."
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v1x3n · 7 hours
Text
♡ nsfw alphabet - simon riley
simon 'ghost' riley x reader ┃ navigation ୨୧ tags : smut, fluff
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
he loves aftercare, its one of his favorite things about sex. he loves the sex smelled filled room with both your sweaty bodies connected with eachother. he cuddles with you, on the nearest comfortable, plush place : normally either the bed or the couch. he mutters soft praise whilst kissing your bare body! he loves the soppy moments after where its nothing but you two and hot, breathless kisses!
B = Body part (their favourite body part of their partner’s)
i dont think simon would have any part of you he favourites, yeah sure he loves your waist or your thighs. but he wouldnt say he prefers them over another part of you. he loves all of you differently. but if he had to pick? like answer or die? he would pick your waist/ lower stomach, he loves picking you up from your waist and just dropping you (carefully) down. youre so small compared to him and loves just man handling you!! he also likes it when youre on your period and your lower stomach kills, your cramps harming you and he uses his big warm hands as a hot water bottle!!
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
he would cum on your tits most of the time, barley ever inside of you unless you have some sort of protection. he loves to see your perky nipples covers in his cum, hot sticky cum plastered all over the bite marks he leaves all over your tits!!
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
hes a switch, he loves when you take dominance but you know how far to go and what to not do. he would only let you top after a while of dating because of trust issues and trauma. but eventually you two chat and the first time be came so much the bedsheets were covered
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
he doesnt fuck loads but hes not a virgin. hes had sex before he met you, but he would only shag unless he trusted them. he wouldnt really do hookups, he would do relationship. trusting relationships. he does know what to do and how he just likes easing up into it though.
F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)
doesnt mind anything really aslong as the two lf you are comfortable. but he likes when you ride him a little more than all the rest, he loves gripping onto your waist to help you and guide your movements and he almost orgasms when he sees your sweaty face trying your hardest to fit his cock all in you. seeing the small bump on your lower stomach from where his dick is finally makes him shoot a load into you
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
depends on how hes feeling, he likes silly sex where you two are both laughing and soft deep breathes when he pushes inside of you. he makes cute little jokes that make you clench at how cute hes being and he knows how much you like it. yet he also likes when all he does is focus of getting you two to cum, especially after not cumming for a while or being apart for a bit.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they?)
hes one hairy ass motherfucker. he doesn't shave, he doesnt see a reason too. you dont really care so he doesnt either.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
will touch you everywhere, constantly all over you. touching your tits and rubbing your arse, you feel up his arms and his strong muscles. touching is the most important thing he thinks. he loves intimacy with you and you only.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
slow and steady wins the race. he jacks off normally to a thought of you or sometimes to a picture if hes really horny. hes quiet but sometimes if hes neglected that much he will whimper softly. small silent whimpers that only you will ever hear
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
praise, he likes when you praise him and he likes praising you. he loves the way your eyes light up when he tells you youre a good girl, he loves the way you mutter how well hes doing when kissing him.
restraints / bondage, but only of you. he likes the control and knowing whats happening, he loves seeing you squirm whilst youre tied up and he loves when you ask for it aswell. if you dont he feels weird like hes forcing you into something, but when you ask he instantly gets hard.
L = Location (favourite places to do the do)
bed, he likes the comfort and how you two can just collapse onto eachother and hug. he will throw you, gently, onto the bed whilst laughing, mutter quiet dirty talk into your ear and you two will have a perfect night together!!
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
seeing you with his clothes on turns his grinds. he loves seeing you take care of him and he lovesss seeing you after a shower. all wet with dripping hair, your smell filling his nose and your soft skin!! boner constantly!!
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
he doesnt really like cnc, after everythings hes been through he just wouldnt. it would remind him too much of the past. if you say stop or the safe word - he is off of you instantly and comforts you. even if you didnt mean to say stop, if its just a spur of the moment thing like you feel so fucking good and your just going to have orgasms after orgasms, so you say stop. he is off. he is checking on you and pulling out. he doesnt like feeling like hes forced you.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
preferably both, he likes 69 and he likes feeling your clit on his tongue and he likes your mouth around his cock. so why not both at the same time? with his tongue - hes a fucking legend, he'll flick so quick at your clit making you cum all over his face!!
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
he likes to mix it up, honestly he could just cum as soon as he drags his dick into your sweet cunt but he will do it how ever you wanna <3
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
if you have somewhere to be and fast and you two just wanna then he will ofc but he prefers the slow and sensual sex than rushed.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
not with pregnancy, unless you two are sure and you two wanna have a baby than he will make sure to wear protection or if youre on the pill. just any protection. he wouldnt be open to threesomes, he likes you all to himself. you are his, not someone elses. he is okay with different kinks, trying out new stuff. unless its weird - obviously.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
normally around 2-3 rounds, he would go for ages until you cum at least twice. until you want enough really. obviously with his build and his stamina, he knows how to go for multiple times and without getting exhausted.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
prefers you over toys, if you arent there he wouldnt use toys. maybe a flesh light at most, but he would use his hands or fingers more. he would use them on you, vibrators are his favourite to use on you. he loves seeing you squirm as he holds you down with the vibrator pressed onto your clit, maybe tied up in the process. but yes he will use them on you!!
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
50/50, he would love to tease you but couldnt for ages due to how horny he is. he cant see you with your fluttering eyelashes while you moan out whilst pleading. begging him to touch you just sends blood rush down to his cock. he would for a bit but wouldnt for hours. maybe just a little before he fucks you.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
small whimpers if hes feeling needy, like ive said before. he groans softly while fucking deep inside of you, he would grunt when you do something he likes. like a 'fuck, yes' grunt!!
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
isnt overally jealous, yeah he would get angry if someone tries to get with his girl but he wouldnt shag you infront of them or beat them up. he would just swiftly grab you and walk away with you, wrapping his arm around your waist. but if you have a guy friend or a guy best friend? he wouldnt care, he trusts you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
girthy, 6 inches, big vein on the left side and hes a grower!! almost 7 inches when hard.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
around the middle, he gets it on at night not much in the morning though. he can go for ages but he wouldnt constantly. he would rather have a little comforting hug then constant sex. just being close to you does it for him. he would whenever you wanna.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
almost instantly. hes one tired guy, he never really gets sleep so with you he can. he would get all comfortable next to you and kiss your forehead,
"come sleep now baby, yeah?" he mumbles whilst waiting for you to sleep, after youre sleeping then he will. first he needs to check youre okay and nothing can ever hurt you.
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blueraineshadows · 1 day
Text
A Kiss Between Friends
Sebastian Sallow x You ♥️
A one shot fic based on this artwork here by @rhewart As soon as I saw it, I was inspired ✨️
4.5k words. Tags: first kiss / teen romance / fluff / friends to sweethearts
“Are you going to ask Violet to Hogsmeade this weekend?” You asked, looking up from the book that lay open before you on your spread out robe. 
The sun was warm on your head, and Sebastian had to shield his eyes against the rays as he turned his head to look towards you from where he lay on his back, his own robe shrugged off and spread out beneath him on the grass. His face was a riot of freckles from the early summer sun, and his unruly hair was beginning to show hints of coppery gold through the brunette. His brow furrowed slightly as he glanced your way, his fingers pinching at his lower lip as he considered your question.
“And, why would I do that?” He asked.
“Because you fancy her,” you smirked, one hand propping up your chin whilst the other flipped the page in your book.
“I do not,” he scowled, a pink blush spreading across his cheeks as he feigned interest in a blade of grass he had plucked, twisting it between his fingers. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
“You stare at her in class, and at the dinner table. I’ve seen you,” you said, your smirk widening into a grin. “You should ask her to Hogsmeade. You might even get a snog.”
Sebastian blew air through his lips in a huff of amusement. “I do not stare at her, and how would you know?” His eyes swung back to her, narrowing slyly. “Does that mean you have been staring at me?”
You felt your own cheeks flood with colour. “Absolutely not. There are far more attractive boys to drool over than you, Sallow.”
He slapped a hand to his chest dramatically and groaned. “Oh, you wound me, sweetheart. Such cruelty from your lips. Who do you drool over, then? Please, don’t tell me it’s Weasley or Prewett. I’m surprised I managed to lure you away from them this afternoon as it is, I shall go mad if you start snogging one of them.”
Your laughter spilled from your lips as you sat up straighter, reaching across to shove your Slytherin friend on his shoulder. “You’re not jealous are you? At least one of us would be getting some action if I managed to get a snog with one of them. I feel like I am the last girl in my dorm to even hold hands with a boy, let alone kiss one.”
Sebastian rolled onto his side, his lips twisted into a smirk as he caught your hand in his, his long fingers grazing gently along your palm as he grasped you more firmly. “I’ll hold your hand. I can’t have you feeling left out.”
Looking down at your joined hands, you uttered a little sigh, appreciating his efforts to be playful with you. The banter was not unusual between you both, you had been best friends for quite a while now, shared many adventures and secrets. Whilst chatting with the girls after lights out in the dorms was always fun, especially when it came to snogging, you appreciated the fact that you could also talk to Sebastian about such things. You knew he would never judge you, and he always had your back.
“Maybe I do feel left out,” you said quietly, your gaze dipping shyly. “I really am the last girl to kiss anyone in my dorm. Sometimes, I wonder if there is something odd about me.”
Sebastian immediately sat up. “There is nothing wrong with you at all. Just because you are waiting for someone worth kissing, it doesn’t mean you are odd. I think it’s actually quite lovely. I mean, I’ve never kissed anyone either.”
Your lips parted in surprise, your eyes meeting with his. “Really?”
His lopsided smile was unbelievably adorable, his blush spreading quickly as he shrugged his shoulders. He let go of your hand and brushed strands of hair from his forehead. “I’ve just never really had the opportunity to, I suppose.”
“If you ask Violet to Hogsmeade you will,” you suggested brightly.
Sebastian pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms about his legs as he frowned. “I hear you, however, I’m not sure it’s such a good idea. Violet has definitely kissed someone before, and I would rather not make an idiot of myself.”
You raised an eyebrow as you looked at him. “Sebastian Sallow, top duellist and currently top of the 7th year academic table, is scared of kissing a girl. What would your fan club say?”
“Oh, shut up,” he muttered, shaking his head. He poked his tongue out at you before throwing his blade of grass into your lap. “You are supposed to be a brave Gryffindor, and yet you haven’t dared to kiss anyone either. I guess that makes us both scaredy cats.”
“We could always practise on each other,” you joked, hoping to take the frown off his face. It worked. He turned stunned eyes your way, his mouth agape.
“What?”
For some reason your pulse fluttered, heat flooding your cheeks at the stupid suggestion. “I…I was joking, of course. Don’t look so horrified.”
His face deepened into thought as he sat up straighter, his fingers pinching at his lower lip again. “Hang on, though. You might be onto something there,” he said slowly.
His eyes met yours, the depths gleaming with the excitement of an idea. You knew that look and swallowed hard. “If we kiss, it would break that pressure of the first time for both of us. A little bit of practice between two friends who trust each other, without all the expectation that comes along with impressing someone. It’s perfect!”
“Merlin…you’re seriously considering it!” You gasped.
“Think of it as unsanctioned research,” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.
You stared at him, stunned, your eyes drifting down to gaze upon the shape of his mouth, and you actually began to wonder what it would feel like to press your own lips against the pink softness. Heat flooded your cheeks and you pressed your hands to them. “Wouldn’t…wouldn’t it be weird? I mean, we’re friends…”
“I guess there is only one way to find out.”
“Now?” You gasped, glancing hurriedly around you to see if anyone was nearby. There wasn’t. The pair of you had chosen a well secluded spot to sit and read during a free afternoon. The only sounds were the gentle waters of the nearby Black Lake, and the buzzing of summer insects.
“Why not?” He grinned and leant towards you, puckering up his lips with a teasing glint in his eyes.
Suddenly, your lungs felt rather tight, and your pulse throbbed with panic and anticipation. This was not how you had envisioned your afternoon with Sebastian panning out. Half of you was tempted to shove him away, scolding words on your tongue about him being indecent and a scoundrel. The other half of you was licking your lips and fighting the urge to lean in closer, to jump off the ledge into exploration, just to see what all the fuss over a snog was about.
Was Sebastian right? What harm could it do? You were friends. You trusted him.
“Okay,” you said quickly, summoning that Gryffindor courage.
Sebastian’s eyes widened and he stilled, sucking in a shaky breath. “Alright,” he said, a little nervously, perhaps not expecting you to agree.
But, you were all in now. 
Staring at him, you shuffled a little closer, your robe scrunching up beneath your legs. You were sure you were breathing too quickly, too loudly, and tried to steady the rush and flutter of nerves in your stomach as you wiped a sweaty palm against your knee. “One kiss on the lips, agreed?”
Sebastian nodded, his hair bouncing, his eyes fixed firmly on yours. Your breath was shaking as you leaned your head towards him, closer and closer, his scent filling your nose. It was familiar and comforting. He had hugged you before, many times, but you had never been this close to his face. You were sure you could see each defined freckle, the pores of his skin over his nose, long enviable lashes that framed wide, expectant eyes. You could pick out flecks of hazel and gold in the brown of his irises, the pupils enlarging as you came within inches of his face. As his lips parted with a soft breath, your gaze dipped to the slope and curve of his mouth. Bloody hell, you were going to kiss him!
Nerves squeezed you, a shaky breath quickly becoming a giggle that burst from your mouth, your cheeks flaming as you brought your fingers to your lips. Sebastian looked mortified. “I’m so sorry,” you gasped, more giggles spilling from you. “I’m sorry. I’m nervous…”
Sebastian flinched and pulled back, his own cheeks flooding with colour. “We don’t have to, you know,” he said awkwardly, pushing a hand through his hair. “Not if you don’t want to.”
“I’m sorry,” you said again, reaching out to put your hand over his. “My nerves got the better of me. Perhaps I am more shy than I thought. Maybe…maybe if you closed your eyes or something, so that you aren’t looking at me. It might be easier.”
Sebastian’s brow furrowed with uncertainty as he shifted, but then he nodded. “Alright,” he said, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “Try again. I’ll close my eyes this time.”
You watched as his eyes closed, his lashes fanning out across the tops of his freckled cheeks as he tilted his face expectantly towards you. Taking a deep breath, you leant forwards again, nerves making your heart thunder in your ears.
Aiming for his mouth, you closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his in a quick kiss that made a smacker of a sound in the quiet surroundings. The soft warmth of his mouth was a shock against yours. Bloody hell, you had just kissed a boy!
Leaning back, your heart in your mouth, you opened your eyes to see his reaction. You were almost rigid with nerves, expecting him to have hated it. Sebastian’s eyes were still closed, his lips slightly parted, and his cheeks crimson.
“Again,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Properly this time.”
Again?!?
Speechless, you stared at him, but his eyes remained closed. Eyes fixed on his mouth, you brushed the tip of your finger over your lips, taking a deep breath before leaning forwards again. Now that you had done it once, you felt bolder, and you took your time as you pressed your mouth against his in a soft kiss. Lingering against the warmth, your pulse flickering like a dancing flame, you felt his lips apply pressure to yours in a return kiss.
Oh my…
All of a sudden, one kiss became two kisses, soft and tentative touches that made your lips tingle, and your stomach felt like liquid warmth. Three kisses…four…
Each press of lips became longer as you relaxed into the feel of it, your body feeling so hot and flustered, and yet, you also wanted to melt against him. Who knew that kissing could feel so…nice?
Sebastian’s lips were soft, and they slotted so perfectly against yours that it was so easy to keep doing it. As he tilted his head, the tip of his nose brushing against your cheek as he pressed a longer, harder kiss against your mouth at a different angle, a thrill of searing heat spiralled up through your core. It was shocking, exciting, but also overwhelming. Gasping softly, you pulled back, your eyes opening to meet the deep, warm brown of Sebastian’s.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” He said, his habitual smirk on his mouth.
No, it really wasn’t. In fact, you were at a loss for words as you looked at him. Managing a shy smile, you shifted backwards, biting your lip as they burned with the feel of his kisses. It was hard to ignore the rush of heat, the flutter of every nerve ending as you thought about it. The sneaking suspicion was already creeping over you that you had enjoyed kissing him a little too much, and that could make this very awkward.
“I guess that breaks the kissing barrier now,” you said, tucking strands of hair behind your ear. “There is nothing to stop you asking out Violet anymore.”
“Perhaps,” Sebastian said, adjusting his trousers and fiddling with his tie as he looked out over the lake, his cheeks still flushed. “I’ll think about it.”
Closing your book with a soft thump, you slid another glance his way, a strange, crushing disappointment beginning to snake up through your stomach at the realisation that he might actually ask Violet out this weekend. It was a rather startling and unnerving realisation that you didn’t want him to.
Touching your fingertips to your lips, you wondered if you had just made a huge mistake kissing Sebastian, because now it was all you could think about.
….*....
The Great Hall was bustling with students having dinner, the ceiling mirroring the soft summer sky outside filling the room with a warm, evening glow. You sat at the Gryffindor table, poking at the food on your plate as you replayed, yet again, the soft kisses you had shared with Sebastian near the lake this afternoon. Your head was consumed with the memory, your fingers straying to your mouth to touch where his lips had pressed so softly against yours. It left you breathless to remember the tingles and flare of warmth that had awoken within you, leaving you confused as to what this meant now. 
What had been a playful suggestion of experimentation between friends was now a suggestive promise of something new and enticing. Even now, sitting at the table, surrounded by your fellow housemates, your gaze was drawn towards the Slytherin table where Sebastian was sitting with Ominis.
Keeping your eyelids slightly lowered, you watched Sebastian through your lashes, noticing the way his hands moved when he spoke, the little tilt of his mouth when he was amused. How had you not noticed how handsome he was before? Was it simply that he had been right in front of you, so close that you hadn’t taken a moment to really study him? Was it because you were so comfortable within your bubble of friendship that you had not thought to seek anything more from him?
The touch of his kiss had changed all that, and you were staring at your Slytherin friend through new eyes.
“You have been poking at that potato for a good five minutes, and I’ve not seen you eat a mouthful yet,” Garreth said, leaning towards you. Looking up at him, you could see the glimmer of concern in the depths of his green eyes. “Is everything alright? Are you not hungry?”
Looking down at the dinner you had been pushing around your plate with an awkward smirk, you put down your fork with a sigh. “Not really, but I’m alright,” you said, managing a small smile for him. “I was just miles away.”
“Somewhere nice I hope,” he smiled, lifting his juice goblet. 
Your gaze drifted back towards the Slytherin table. Somewhere very nice.
Sebastian was smiling, leaning across the table as he spoke to someone, and you realised it was Violet. Perhaps he had plucked up the courage to ask her out after all. The dreamy look on your face froze, your eyes dropping down towards your uneaten dinner. Sickened at the sight, you pushed the plate away and moved to stand. Pausing as Garreth spoke your name with a look of concern, you waved him off with a strained smile. “I’m fine, honestly. I think I just need some air.”
Avoiding any more glances Sebastian’s way lest you see something you didn’t wish to, you swiftly left the Great Hall, wishing you could turn the clock back a few hours and get that comforting feeling of friendship to return that you feared you had lost.
….*....
The sun was setting when you returned to the castle, lights beginning to appear in the windows as you walked slowly through the huge doors and into the coolness of the corridors. Walking around the lake hadn’t really done much in the way of easing your troubled thoughts. Worried that you had damaged your friendship, you debated bringing it all up with Sebastian, worried that doing so would just hammer in a whole new level of separation between you. 
Unwittingly, your feet took you towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts Tower, the soft tap of your boots on the marble echoing down the halls as you headed towards the Undercroft. Checking over your shoulder, you slipped behind the staircase and entered through the clock, making your way down into the depths of the secret chamber. Laughter reached your ears, and as the iron grate lifted to grant you access, you could see Sebastian and Ominis sitting on a rug playing Exploding Snap. 
You smiled as Sebastian turned at the sound of your entrance, his gaze lingering on you, making you wonder if you were imagining the look in his eyes as they wandered downwards as you approached. Of course you were imagining it, he wanted to ask Violet out after all, you were just his practice kiss. Heart squeezing, you turned your attention towards Ominis, his head tilted as he listened to your steps, his lips curving into a slight smile.
“Good evening, little lion,” he said softly. “Would you like to join us?”
Glancing at Sebastian, you nodded and moved to sit down, choosing to situate yourself next to Ominis. The move didn’t go unnoticed, your gaze meeting with Sebastian’s as warmth flooded your face, the look between you lingering as he reshuffled the cards.
Pushing away any tempting thoughts about staring at his mouth, you focused on the game, feeling some of the tension relax from your shoulders as you laughed along with your two favourite Slytherins. Ominis was as sharp as ever, still managing to win two out of three games you played, his haughty smug pride making you chuckle as your gaze met with Sebastian’s yet again. Each look felt loaded with something heavier this evening, his eyes seemingly drawn to you and lingering for longer, your own gaze seeking him out and noticing more things that just hadn’t occurred to you before. 
His shirt sleeves were rolled up exposing his forearms, and this wasn’t something you hadn’t seen before, and yet now you noticed the defined lines of his muscle, the graceful way he held his hands. How had you not noticed how his long fingers splayed out in a way that made you wonder how it would feel to have them against your skin. His shirt collar was loosened, a tempting glimpse of collar bone peeking through the gap above where his tie was hanging scruffily about his neck, and your eyes were drawn to it against every effort not to stare at him. 
The angle of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the way his hair flicked around his ears, the dusting of freckles on his arms that had you wondering if he had them elsewhere on his body. His laughter sounded richer, his smiles more beautiful, and the wicked gleam in his eyes when he teased was now fanning the new flames that were igniting swiftly inside of you.
Godric’s balls. You were getting a crush on Sebastian. 
….*....
After a night of restless dozing, any sleep filled with dreams of smothering heat and soft lips, you struggled to keep focus in potions the next morning. The lack of concentration led to a rather impressive failure that rivalled anything Garreth could have caused, much to Sharp’s disgruntled disapproval. Feeling like a failure, and utterly baffled by the way your body was betraying you, it was with a resigned smile that you left potions as Garreth gave you a conspiratorial pat on the shoulder. 
Wandering along the corridor on the way to lunch, you wondered how long this apparent crush was going to cripple you, making you stare longingly across the classroom at Sebastian’s gorgeous face, only to blush furiously and dip your gaze when his eyes shifted your way in return. It was all rather foolish really, and he was going to wonder what on earth was wrong with you if you kept this up for too long.
“There you are,” a deep voice sounded in your ear, making you jump. Clutching your bag tighter against you, a blush staining your cheeks, you looked up at familiar brown eyes. His hand ghosted at the small of your back, invoking a shiver that you immediately tried to suppress, but he was already taking hold of your elbow. “Come on, I need to talk to you.”
Pulse quickening, you let him hurry you along, your other hand nervously tucking hair behind your ear. “Where are we going?”
Sebastian merely smirked and turned corners, marching along until he came to a door set amongst portraits in a quiet corridor, a swift unlocking charm had him dragging you inside and the door closed behind you both with a soft click. It was a cupboard stuffed full of all manner of oddities, your eyes glancing around in confusion.
“Did you just drag me into a cupboard?” You asked, incredulous, turning to look at him.
Sebastian blushed furiously, his hand scratching at the back of his neck. “I did,” he said, biting his lower lip. “I er…well, I was wondering...I was hoping…”
He groaned and closed his eyes, turning to pace up and down, tugging at his collar.
You frowned and began to fiddle nervously on the hem of your sleeve. “What is it?”
“Yesterday…” He paused, his look sheepish as he stepped closer. “Our unsanctioned research by the lake…”
Heat flooded your own cheeks and you shifted awkwardly. “Oh no, it’s going to be weird between us, isn’t it,” you said, your voice wobbling slightly.
“Oh, no, no,” he said quickly, his eyes widening as he held his hands up. “I don’t want it to be weird, not at all! You know me, I rather enjoy research, particularly the unsanctioned kind, and especially with you.”
You stilled, staring at him, your heart beginning to thump a beat harder.
His lips twitched with a hopeful smile. “I was wondering…maybe we should try a proper kiss, just in case…”
A gasp left your lips as you stared, your blood now fizzing madly with your racing pulse. You could see the hope and fear in his eyes, knowing him well enough to see that this had taken some courage to drag you in here and ask this of you. A glimmer of hope bloomed in your chest that maybe, just maybe, he had been thinking similar thoughts as you after yesterday.
As on edge as he looked, it was just too tempting to taunt the poor boy further, and you let a slow smirk spread across your face.
“Are you suggesting that yesterday, I did not kiss you properly, Sebastian?”
His mouth worked as a slight wince creased his brow, and your smirk widened. Then, his eyes narrowed, and his stance shifted into something much more like his usual bold, confidence. “I wouldn’t say that you didn’t kiss me properly, it’s more a case of I don’t think we gathered enough evidence to make a definitive conclusion.”
You raised one eyebrow and folded your arms. “Oh really?”
The smirk that lifted his lips made you swallow hard, threatening the demeanour of control that you were aiming for. How had you not noticed how utterly gorgeous he was before? It was borderline shameful how you had missed it. 
Sebastian stepped even closer. “Absolutely, and therefore, I recommend a second experiment. A more thorough experiment, if you’re willing.”
Dropping your bag to the floor, you stepped forward to meet him, tilting your head just so in order to look up into his eyes. Staring into their depths, you couldn’t even begin to question how right this felt. Apart from one little niggle.
“Did you ask Violet to accompany you to Hogsmeade?” You asked, holding your breath.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “How could I when I’m already going with someone else?”
Your brow furrowed. “Who?”
He leaned in, his mouth dangerously close to yours, his eyes blazing like a glorious sunset. “You, of course,” he said softly.
It was his turn to make the first move this time, pressing his mouth against yours in a firm kiss that made your eyelids flutter closed, your hands sliding up the front of his green plaid waistcoat. You had no idea how good it would feel to have his fingers glide along your jawline and sink deeply into your hair, pushing loose any pins you had used to try and make yourself look respectable this morning.
This had never been the plan when you had talked about this yesterday, you had only been meaning to prepare yourselves for kissing someone else, but your head was empty of anything but his kisses and touch in the low light of the storage room. It felt so right to cup his face, holding him in place as he kissed you with a slow thoroughness that made you part your lips in a soft gasp. But, he wasn’t done yet…
Taking advantage of your parted lips, he swiped a deliciously slow slide of his tongue along your lower lip, your heart racing as he tentatively pushed it into your mouth. You had read about kisses such as this, the very thought of it invoking day dreams that filled you with longing. The real thing stole your very breath, your mouth welcoming the silky, soft warmth of him with a low moan. His quickened breaths filled your ears as he kissed you deeply, the taste of him making your head spin as his hand moved to grasp your waist.
Sliding your hands up the back of his neck, your fingers explored the soft strands of his hair, your back arching as he urged you closer against him. He was solid and warm, he was everything you found comforting and familiar, and yet his mouth and hands were waking something new and so very exciting inside of you. 
It probably wasn’t skilled, or refined, your hands and mouths carefully exploring with daring and curiosity, but it felt so good. Sebastian felt so good. Why didn’t you see it before? How could it be anyone else but him?
Pausing, his lips damp and his breaths quick and hot against your cheek as he pressed his forehead to yours, you gazed up at him with your hands still curled into his hair.
“What’s the conclusion?” You asked. 
His hand caressed your cheek, his smile warm and soft as he brushed back your hair and traced the curve of your ear. “We need to keep practising,” he whispered, his thumb tracing the curve under your lower lip. “I reckon, in time, we could be rather good at this.”
“Well, don’t stop now,” you said, returning his smile. 
“So, I’m worth all the waiting then, am I?” He asked, that teasing gleam in his eyes.
“Easy now, Sallow,” you chuckled, a grin curving your mouth. “It’s going to take a few more practice sessions before I could possibly comment on that.”
“That can most definitely be arranged,” he murmured, before claiming your mouth once more in a bone melting kiss.
As always, huge love and thanks to my Discord girls for keeping me inspired. 💜✨️
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radio-writes · 11 hours
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Hi, will u do a human alastor x side mistress reader, so basically he has a wife, but he doesn't really love her, so when he's on the air he has sex with his side mistress in the radio tower. His side mistress knows he's a serial killer, by the way. You don't have to do this if u don't want to. I love ur fics.
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By the Gold Ring on His Hand
Synopsis: He loved you and only you. You were his to cherish, to adore, to worship. Sweet words he whispered softy, promisingly, into your ear. Sweet words he also whispered softly to his wife.
Warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of murder, heavy manipulation, cheating
Tags: human!alastor, alastor x reader, gn!reader, reader is the other wo/man
MDNI
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You've always revered Alastor.
You were entranced by the way his smile never broke. The way he seemed to take control of any situation he was put in. The he always managed to just charm the socks off of anyone he's ever met.
You loved the way he made little corny jokes. You loved the way he danced—barely drunk from the bottles of rye he downed.
And oh, did you love the way he spoke.
You could listen to him all day on the radio, just absolutely smitten and melting where you stood. 
The one thing you didn't love about Alastor—the one thing you despised, really—was his wife.
That naive little thing. So meek, so quiet. You always hated the way she would cling onto his arm at parties. Loathed the way she'd shyly smile at everyone, including you.
There was just no way that delicate stupid girl could satisfy someone like Alastor.
Alastor needed, deserved, a real partner. One that had enough of a spine not to be stepped on, at the very least.
Your fingers twitched, aching to touch him more; to caress his thighs that perfectly framed your head. You wanted to feel him beneath you, reassure your heart that he was here with you.
You groaned as your longing was denied. You felt Alastor press his shoes harder against your hands, pinning your palms to the floor. The fingers in your hair tightened their grip, guiding you more strictly down his cock.
It was enough to cheer you up a little. Although your touch was declined, the little vibrations your sounds made clearly still had an effect on him. You felt a little proud knowing something as small as you moaning around him pleasured the hefty cock in your mouth.
The reality was far more bitter, though. Not that Alastor would ever let you know that.
Truth be told his grip was a warning. He had explicitly told you to be quiet, to keep your hands to yourself. But you seemed to be so adamant on testing his patience today, as you were refusing to do both.
Alastor's smile strained just a tad bit more in annoyance as he spoke into the microphone. "Hate to finish up the broadcast with some sour news, but someone's gotta keep you lovely folks up to date!"
You continued to bob your head between his legs, hidden from the rest of crew by the control panel. You made sure to drag the flat of your tongue over the under side of Alastor's dick each every time you lowered your mouth to his crotch. If your ministrations did anything for him, you couldn't really tell.
His voice was perfect, not a tone out of place as he continued his broadcast. You've never seen a man so well put together while having someone's mouth serve them so reverently.
"Seems the coppers found a couple more for the good old wooden kimonos last night. Grizzly sight it was—so I heard. Hate to be the ones to dig those poor souls out."
Even though he was the one to put them there in the first place, you suppressed a laugh. Not that you were complaining, though. It was part of how you and Alastor finally got together, after all.
Alastor finished up his broadcast, and you continued your slow little prayer on your knees. He waved his staff away when they tried to approach, simply sending them off with a friendly jest that he'd meet them at the bar after he cleaned up his work station.
It was only when the lock clicked behind his crew did Alastor finally acknowledge you. His lovely smile was intact, but you could tell his mood was a little soured by the way his brown eyes narrowed at you from behind his glasses.
The hand gripping your hair pulled you off his cock, a pathetic whine escaping your lips as he did so.
Alastor tried to ignore the—rather off putting—sight of a thin string of fluids connecting your mouth to the head of his dick. He bent down closer to you, keeping his gaze locked on yours.
"My dear, I thought I told you to be quiet while I worked." His voice was as sweet as ever.
You chuckled lightly, you wanted to move your hands to cup his cheek, bring him even closer to you. Perhaps even for a kiss to lift his seemingly bad mood.
The moment Alastor so much as felt your fingers twitch, he stepped harder on your hands again, keeping them pinned to the floor and away from him.
You opted to shrug your shoulders sheepishly instead. "I may have gotten carried away," You responded coyly "You just taste so good."
Alastor did his best not to cringe, choosing to tighten his smile. Ah, you were in one of your moods again, he thought.
"Then why don't you go ahead and have your fill of me now." His hand left the back of your head, resting instead on the sides of his chair as he leaned back. The gold band on his ring finger momentarily caught the light and drew your attention to it.
Your chest tightened just the slightest bit. You absolutely hated the reminder that Alastor wasn't fully yours. That he'd still go home to his stupid wife at the end of the day.
But not for long, at least that's what Alastor had promised you. And not right now. 
You ran your tongue along the thick vein of his cock, from the bottom, up its shaft, and smiled at the sight of his hips bucking up to your touch.
"In your mouth now again, darling." It didn't sound like a request, but you obeyed faithfully anyway. You were rewarded with a soft sigh as you welcomed him back in your warm mouth.
You'd bet your job that his sweet little wife never pleased him like this. Skittish thing like that would probably run at the thought of putting her lips on a hard dick.
Well, her loss is your gain.
You were so far gone in your own head that you hadn't even noticed Alastor wasn't looking at you.
No, instead his head craned towards the ceiling of his studio, eyes closed and tired.
He was trying to focus on the physical sensations you brought him, not that he had much of an interest in it in the first place, but he tried hard to concentrate. All he had to do was finish, and he could finally leave. Leave you here with some sweet promises, and not have to deal with your disgustingly loving gaze on him until maybe his next shift on Monday.
Not that spending time with his wife at home felt any more appealing.
He pushed the thoughts away, willing his mind to stay on you instead. He thought he can finish, at least he could feel the bottom of his gut tightening just a tiny fair bit.
He focused on the way your tongue felt as it swirled around him. How your lips stretched so softly to fit his shaft. How you practically drooled over his cock. How you—
You were noisier now that you knew you were alone, and it wasn't doing Alastor any favors. A rather loud moan cutting through his mind and it almost made the coil in his gut loosen completely, his shoulders tensing instead.
No, no this just wouldn't do. He had much more interesting plans tonight than to sit there and buy your silence with his cock.
His hand reached out once more, much less gentle than it was before. With less grace and care, Alastor's hand rested on the back of your neck, before harshly pushing you down as he bucked his hips up.
Your eyes were wide, a surge of panic filled you at the suddenness of the sensation. His dick hit the back of your throat and you tried to pull back immediately.
Alastor's other hand came up to the back of your head to push you back down. Your nose pressed firmly to his skin as his cock pushed past your throat. 
Your arms strained as you tried to use your hands to push him away, but Alastor merely stepped on your fingers harsher to get you to stay.
"Ah, fuck, darling. Stay like that. Oh that's lovely." You thought you heard him say.
He was finally looking down at you. The way you heaved as you choked on him. The way your body spasmed to get away. The way panic filled your pretty tearful eyes. 
Your throat tightening around him as you tried desperately to breathe felt miles better than whatever you were trying to do before, and it was exactly what he needed.
"Finally," He breathed out softly, almost in a moan, feeling the coil in his gut finally snap. He pressed you down, just the tiniest bit more and you felt his warm seed flow down your willing throat.
"There we go, dear." Alastor's harsh grip in your hair loosened, slowly petting through your locks. The hand on your neck remained, locking you in and rendering you unable to pull free.
Your eyes flickered up to him, part of you ready to beg for mercy, but one sight of his dazed smile made you pliant. Your body relaxed into his touch, simply letting him ride his high out with your bruised throat. 
He must have just gotten carried away, that's all. Simply something new he never got to do with his stupid wife. 
You felt his softening dick slowly pull out of you, his shaft dragging across your tongue and you finally pulled free with a choked gasp of air.
A gentle hand tipped your face back to meet Alastor's before you could be too dramatic. He pressed a gentle, chaste, kiss to the corner of your lips to calm you.
"You'll have to forgive me, my dear. Your body just makes me feel far too good—just couldn't hold back." The charm practically oozed from his smooth tongue.
Your gaze softened immediately. Your hands, now free from beneath his feet, made their way to his cheeks but he easily pulled back.
Really, what on earth made you think he'd let you touch him with filthy hands. Had you forgotten he'd been stepping on them this entire time? Kind of rude, if you'd ask him.
Not that any of those thoughts showed when Alastor simply, gently, helped you up to your feet by your elbow.
"Always so good to me, my dear. How I got so lucky to have a divine thing like you service me, I'd never know." He stood up with you, part of him did enjoy it whenever he got to look down on you in a more literal sense.
He pressed his body against yours, arms on the control panel behind you as he caged you in. His lips barely grazed your ears as he continued his sweet, sweet, praises. "Why couldn't you have shown up sooner, dear? I would have had it all." 
You placed your hand on his chest, failing to notice the way he flinched at the touch. "You still could, you know? All you have to do is leave that naive little thing and I could give you this every night." Your voice was low, seductive, alluring.
Alastor held back an annoyed groan. This again. His eyes rolled, not that you could see it with his head nuzzling against your shoulder.
"We both know I treat you so much better." You continued, hand trailing up to scratch at the hair at the bottom of his neck. "And I'd never hold you back from that little hobby of yours either." 
He chuckled at that, you could feel his lips at the base of your neck. "My dear, we've been through this." His kisses were soft, gentle, barely touching you, just like how he preferred it. "You don't have to feel so threatened by her, it's you that I want."
"Then why don't you—"
A gasp passed your lips.
"Leave her?" Alastor continued your sentence when you couldn't. His warm tongue licked over the reddened skin he bit. "I will, my dear, I will. Things are just a bit complicated at the moment."
More complicated than you knew, really.
He couldn't leave his wife because her dad was a big boss of his station. His ass would be out on the streets in minutes if he ever hurt that shy doll.
But he couldn't just kill you either. Not when your dad was the town sheriff.
He was lucky you were so obsessed with him that fucking you once in a while was enough to keep your pretty little mouth shut.
Honestly, just fuck the day you caught him slicing that man's flesh. That scum was hardly worth all the trouble he now has to go through.
"But I'm working on it." Alastor promised as he finally pulled away from you.
You gazed up into his warm, honest eyes. You adored the way he towered over you, really. It's like you fit together so perfectly—like puzzle pieces, was it? Was that how that cheesy line went.
"And then we can be together?" Your palms move to cup his face, and Alastor caught them on instinct before they could.
But you didn't notice, not when he corrected his actions so smoothly by pressing his lips to your knuckles instead—he tried his best to ignore how filthy they are, just to hide his mistake. "Of course, darling. In fact, I think I can work things out by tonight." 
Your father was going to be alone at the station.
Your eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Yes, my dear. Soon all of this hiding and sneaking around will be a thing of the past." He said, almost with the same amount of excitement as you.
He couldn't wait to toss your body in a ditch next to your old man's corpse.
"But I musn't be late"
He'll miss his chance to slit your father's throat if he lingered any longer.
"Soon you wouldn't have to be jealous of my wife, dear."
After all, the dead don't envy do they?
Alastor willed himself to humor you one last time, pressing his lips to yours before he bid you a good night.
He couldn't have rushed out that door any faster.
Who would have known trying to keep his cover would have eaten up so much of his time? He barely had any left to do the very act he was even trying to cover for.
Honestly, how troublesome.
But no matter, no matter.
He glanced back at the station. He could vaguely see your lovestruck figure through the window. He watched amusedly as you pathetically held your fingers to your lips, absolutely lost on cloud nine.
It won't be long until he was rid of you, and that fact was enough to lift his sour mood.
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waffle-gal · 3 days
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A..... A.... A- CHOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
TADC - ADVENTURE AU MASTERPOST & BOUNDARIES
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Big thanks to @burrotello for letting me use your digital circus logo 💜
Summary:
When a virus sneaks into Caine's "Amazing Digital Expansion (Beta)" his powers end up disappearing! It's up to him and Pomni to journey outside of the circus into the expansion itself to find his powers, stop the virus and save their world!
In this slow-burn romance adventure, Caine tries to understand what it's like to be human, while Pomni just wants to live at the end of the day.
They both get into more trouble than they bargained for, as danger, peril and love await in The Amazing Digital Adventure!
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Q&A and BOUNDARIES
Can I draw fan art and write fanfics for this AU?
Absolutely go for it!! I would love to see what you make! 💕
Can I make NSFW for this AU?
Yes! I am an adult, but I am also aware I have a following of people who are minors. So, if you do make content, please spoiler it and use the appropriate tags. Maybe I’ll make another blog for that
Can I dub/voice your comics?
Please credit me if you do!
Is the rest of the digital circus cast going to be in this AU?
The story is primarily Caine and Pomni, but I'm not opposed to having the rest of the cast making appearances in the future!
Waffle, isn't this just canon Pomni and Caine?
But hear me out-- Hear me out... What if I told you...
Showtime? 👀
Waffle why aren't you answering my ask?
My inbox is not exactly working at the moment. There's a chance I will see your ask, and other times it might not even go through. I already contacted Tumblr support about this, but while this is happening, please keep trying to send me things! If I don't reply back, please make a post on your blog tagging me with your ask! I definitely want to hear from you!
I don’t ship Showtime, is this an AU for me?
Probably not, but I think it’s still good to be open to the pairing if you’re interested! If you’re still not then no biggie, but don’t attack others for what they like please. Thank you.
More will be added in the future. This master post took a lot of time and energy to make, so I might be slow. However I’m super proud of how this turned out! I'm so excited to make more content.
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theotherbuckley · 20 hours
Text
Something Something Thursday
(Just pretend I have an excuse to post this snippet <3)
You guys gave me an insane amount of support on my last snippet and ahsjsjsj it means so much to me💜💜 so I can’t let the people down I’m writing this fic (who cares about completing assignments anyway). Interact with this post if you would like to be tagged when I post!!
Here’s more of it:
“Yep.” Buck leans closer to Eddie, resting his hand on his thigh, and whispers in his ear. “I’m super hot plus you’re super hot, think about how good the sex would be.” Eddie does not choke on his beer.
It’s not that he hasn’t thought about having sex with Buck. He’s only human. But never in his wildest dreams did he ever think that would be something he could have. Before tonight, Eddie would have never guessed that Buck was anything other than straight. To be fair, everyone thinks he’s straight too. Still, even in his fantasies, he never expected Buck to be so forward.
Once again, as the tightness in his pants suggests, he’s not complaining.
He figures, if this is a dream, then there’s no harm in indulging a little. He gulps down his beer and turns back to face Buck. “Well, can’t argue with that math.”
Tagging the usual crew:
[edit: yall are tagged for @actualalligator’s Thirsty Thursday] @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @jeeyuns @wildlife4life @honestlydarkprincess @eddiebabygirldiaz @spagheddiediaz @jesuisici33 @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @giddyupbuck @eowon @elvensorceress @watchyourbuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @king-buckley @rainbow-nerdss @cal-daisies-and-briars @evanbegins @diazsdimples @wikiangela @bucksbirthmark @underwater-ninja-13 @daffi-990 @fionaswhvre @aspecbuddie @lover-of-mine @nmcggg @tizniz @monsterrae1 @smilingbuckley @loveyouanyway @hippolotamus @actualalligator @pirrusstuff @actuallyitsellie @dangerpronebuddie @bucksbackwardcap @loserdiaz @ronordmann
Also tagging some people who commented/rbed on the last post (hope you don't mind): @murder-trio @emilybahu @loveyou2thecore @unlifeira @crazyaboutotps @bigfootsmom (tell me if you want to be added or removed sorry if you don't like being tagged!) Thanks for the support everyone!!
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chosoisamalewife · 2 days
Note
* Sees the angst tag in the masterlist * me: 😈
I request the finest dish of Sukuna and Male reader, with the drink being Angst. Sukuna had kept his Male servant around in the heian era and began to have a soft spot for him. But when he found a servant's dead body, he began to go mad. Now, the rest is up to you.
Sukuna x male!reader
A/N : I am a big angst lover so the moment I saw this request I squealed and instantly started writing
A/N : I gotten inspiration from the last of us opening for the death scene. Also Sukuna and reader had a special thing 😉😉 ALSO SUKUNA IS HEAVILY OOC
Sukuna wasn’t a kind man,well he wasn’t a man to begin with, he was a curse object that hated basically everything. He wasn’t kind at all, he was rough and mean. He was one thing that has zero weakness or so he thought. There was you he never understood why he adored you so much. You were a pesky human to him, a mere servant of his. However he couldn’t help but to be soft and patient with you. He felt pathetic every time he saw you smile, every time he saw your eyes and skin glowing in the sun light. The way you looked at everything with kind eyes, even him, a monstrous being. The way you trace the patterns all over his body, your fingertips grazing his skin gently like he was fragile glass as your soothing voice spoke. Oh your voice was something he could listen to always, it was one of a kind to him. He hated it but oh he couldn’t tell you to stop. You were a weakness to him and he hated, he hated everything about it, yet he couldn’t get rid of you.
He has even tried to, there has been many times he has thought about killing you. He has pictured it many times and many different ways, sometimes they come out of the blue. The other times is when you are sleeping peacefully next to him, his eyes starring at your resting face trailing them down looking at all the marks from him. He couldn’t help but to imagine ripping your heart out right then and there, doing the same thing you have done to him, making you feel the same pain.
You didn’t understand it either why he was so gentle to you. When you first became his servant he treated you like the other. He was cold and ruthless to you, the only person you saw he even remotely nice to was uruame. The first time that you saw something different from was when you bumped into by accident. The force of him basically knocked the breath out of your lungs. You just stared up at him with fear as he just stared down at you. You gotten on your knees "I'm sorry King. I must have been distracted I didn't see you." Your voice shook with fear. He reached one of his hands down offering it to you. You looked at him confused
"Are you gonna take it or what?" He asked without any emotion or tone to his voice. You put your hand in his helping you raise up. From there you saw him slowly began to soften. He knew the track you walked in the castle so he eventually start to intercept that track. He knew you liked to paint so he start to let you go outside to do that with his "supervision" of course. You had a favorite spot too, it was under a tree surrounded by flowers, so he had other servant set up a area for you there. He stood out there with you for the most of it he wanted to make sure you didn't run away. But that was just an excuse. He stood out there because of how peacefully you looked. He liked how you looked when you concentrate, he liked how your strong hands look holding the brush. He also did it to make sure that no one would disturb you.
One thing he hated more than how gentle you were, was the way you looked when you cry. Sukuna wasn’t a patient being which caused a lot of fights between the two of y’all. Sukuna never felt the need to apologize to anyone or anything but with you he just couldn’t help it. He felt the need to apologize especially after a bad one. Such as the recent one, he was sitting on his throne thinking of the way your eyes filled with tear before you stormed off. The way you yelled “If you are so tired of me then kill me! Do it already!”
He decided to ask uraume to make your favorite dishes as a act of him apologizing to you. When he brought the food up to your door. He could hear sniffling. He thought your were still upset so he put the tray on the floor and knocked gently on your door. "Y/N, I know you're probably still upset but here is some food. " That’s when he heard you say his name but it wasn't normal. It was odd like you were hurt. He opened the door to find you bleeding on the floor.
He ran to your body lying on the ground, the was a big gash from your chest to your torso. “Y/N, going to be okay.” He took you in his arms trying to pick you up which caused you to scream in pain. “ I know, I know but you have to let me. I have to get you help.” He tried again, your nails were digging into his skin as you screamed. “I know baby, I know.” Baby was a nickname that he has never used until now, it was always brat. He stood up half way before the grip you had on him let go and everything went silent. Your body fell limp in his arms. “Y/N” He sat down on the ground with your body cradle in his arms. He sat there just staring at the opened window. If he wasn’t late he could’ve caught that person, the thing that killed you. Or he could've killed it before it hurt you. The thing that took you from him. He’s going to hunt them but he doesn’t want to kill them. No, killing them would be to humane. He wants to torture them until their body can’t take it and give up.
He sits there for hours in the the silence of what use to be your lively room. What once was a room filled with laughter, talking, and other noises is now a room with nothing. The sound of the door opening interrupted his thought. He turned his head looking at the intruder, it was another servant. “My kin-“ the servant wasn’t even able to get the full word out before a slash went through his body. Uraume eventually came the fetch the body before leaving sukuna alone again. It began a repeated process of servants intruding to only be killed in a second
This went on for 3 days, your body started to decay but he didn’t move. He stayed there not caring about the decay or the smell. “Sukuna” Uraume opened the door gently. He stared at them with a look in his eyes that they have never seen before. Was it heartbreak, anger, madness that he didn’t want to let out. Simply because he didn’t want to disturb your resting body.
“I don’t want to fucking hear it.” He barked at them. They crouch in front of him leaving your body in between them.
“Sukuna, I think we should give him a proper burial. He doesn’t deserve to rot here.” He sat there for a second considering it. "Please" They pleaded with him hoping to get in his mind. He nodded slowly. "Where do you want to bury him"
"I know a place." Sukuna and Uraume put you in beautiful clothing before burying you along with your paint and brushes. Your favorite place became your resting place, under the tree surrounded by flowers.
For hours the quiet castle became home to thunderous yells the sound of things being thrown. No one even dared to ask Sukuna if he was okay, it was clear to what would happen. They would become like those painting of yours that he has ripped up. Those gorgeous painted vases shattered on the floor, he didn't care about the glass stabbing his feet. Everything reminded you of him and he wanted it all gone, it all destroyed and dead just like you. Sukuna's madness went as far as killing every other servant that met you. They knew that you were a weakness to him and he couldn't let them live. He made sure that only him and Uraume remembered you.
Over the course of centuries you began to fade into the back of his mind, a place that he will never tap back into. Those memories no longer had the same effect on him. They didn’t make him soft like they use to. They made him angry, viewing them as a time that he was weak. He even forgot that he was on a hunt looking for the person or curse that killed you. If anything he now wishes it was him that did it. He sees you as having a victory over him simply because he couldn't. You were his biggest regret and now you exist forvever in the back in his mind. You were like a thorn in his foot that he can never get out. No matter how much it annoyed him, it will always be there so he learned to ignore it.
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turtletaubwrites · 2 days
Text
Misty Eyes ~ Part 3
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THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. *This part contains two Doffy flashbacks with a graphic depiction of violence including blood, murder of an unnamed character, and the reader being sick, as well as implied sexual encounters. Doffy flashback sections are marked between these symbols ~🦩🦩🦩~ so you can skip past them if you'd like. The chapter begins with one of these graphic memories, but ends with some Hurt/Comfort & sweet fluff!
Pairings: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Fem!Reader (Past & Flashbacks)
Word Count: 5768
Misty Eyes Masterlist
Ao3 Link
Summary: You try to acclimate to life aboard this yellow submarine, but your past keeps tearing you apart. All that Doffy made you do feels like a stain on your soul, and you're afraid you'll never be clean.
Author's Note: This one gets really fucked up, but I hope the sweet ending makes up for it! 🖤 I have added the dead dove do not eat tag, so please heed the warnings, and do not read if they might be triggering for you.
Thank you so much @pinejayyfor this delicious request!!
Rating/Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Devil Fruit User Reader, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Angst, Pet Names, Degradation, Punishment, Emotional Abuse, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Grooming, Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Donquixote Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Bondage, Dissociation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Kissing, Shame, Blood and Violence, Vomiting, Minor Character Death, (unnamed character), Sparring, Childhood Memories, Chaste Childhood Kiss, Teasing, Tickling, Yandere Donquixote Doflamingo, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags To Be Added
!!! SPOILERS !!! This story begins during the 2 year timeskip before the Punk Hazard Arc, and there will also be spoilers for the Dressrosa Arc for backstory lore
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
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~🦩🦩🦩~
“Another simple mission too much for you, Y/N?”
Doffy ducked a bit as he sauntered into the room, his voice making your enemy freeze with her sea prism stone blade to your throat.
“Young mast–”
Your target smirked at you, pressing the tip of the blade into your flesh, just enough to cut your words. 
“Are you good and scared,” she taunted, ignoring the powerful man at her back.
Is she fucking stupid? She has to know who he is.
Doffy grinned as he moved closer, until you saw yourself reflected in his sunglasses over your enemy’s head. Neither of the menacing figures before you moved or spoke for a moment, leaving your mind in chaos. 
I failed him again. He’s not helping me. Why would he? I’m worthless. 
The woman chuckled, showing no fear as the future king of the pirates towered over her. Until his large hand fisted her hair, lifting her until her toes barely touched the ground. A shocked cry left her lips, her satisfied smirk torn away as she struggled to free herself.
“You really can’t do anything on your own, can you?”
Humiliation poured over you, making you wish that the blade had cut you deeper. The prick of blood on your throat wasn’t nearly enough to drown your shame. 
The woman laughed, even as she struggled in Doffy’s grasp. She choked on that laughter as the blade in her hand flew toward her own neck, tugged by invisible strings. 
“Wait, you said–”
Those frantic eyes had tried to look toward the young master, but her words ended as a flood of red left her throat. Doffy laughed, watching your wide eyes while the woman thrashed. The blade clattered to the floor as a rain of bright, hot blood fell upon it. He took a step toward you, letting all that cherry red cascade down your chest as you stared into the woman’s dying eyes.
She reached for you, dragging her nails across your throat.
“You’re really gonna let this trash disrespect our family? Disrespect me,” Doffy questioned, as bile rose in your throat.
“N-No, I’m sorry young–”
“Finish it. Pick up the knife, and gut her.”
The woman was still struggling, still fighting, but you knew it wouldn’t be long. 
I have to prove myself. 
You couldn’t move. 
“Do it, Y/N,” Doffy threatened, his voice low as he shoved her closer. That hot blood poured over your face as he lifted her higher. 
You fell to your knees, somehow finding the blade through the red that had covered your eyes, spitting it out of your mouth as you used the wall to stand back up. 
“There you go. Prove you can do something right, Y/N.”
Blinking through the blood, you held the blade to the woman’s stomach, throwing up before you could pierce her flesh. 
Doffy dropped that lightly twitching body as you started to retch, stepping back to watch you cover your enemy in your own pathetic disgrace. 
Choking on sobs as your stomach emptied over the nearly dead form, you tried to wipe and hide your face. There was no way to hide from Doffy, his manic grin looming near as he crouched beside you. 
“Such a pathetic sight. To think that a member of my family could fail me like this,” he tutted, ripping your heart to shreds. 
“I’m so sorry, young master, I–”
Your fingers slipped in the blood and sick on the floor as you tried to push yourself up, until your body moved on its own. 
No. Not on its own. 
Doffy moved it, his fingers extending as he controlled you. A disgusting marionette, dripping with the evidence of shame. 
“So disappointing.”
The young master’s voice weighed you down, even as he held your body up. He directed your movements, forcing you to walk as though you were proud of the sticky failure on your skin. 
I’m nothing. I don’t deserve to live. I don’t deserve his love. 
~🦩🦩🦩~
“Y/N, hey, you’re okay–” 
“I couldn’t do it, I’m too weak. I’m so sorry, young–”
Nausea tore through you, the fight to keep from being sick bringing you into the present. Into the mist. Law’s soothing voice was too full of concern, and you hated taking down your camouflage. Hated letting him see how weak you were. 
“Y/N, can I check your–”
Law’s fingers were on you as soon as you nodded, slipping along the cold sweat that coated your skin as he checked your temperature and pulse. 
“I’m fine,” you lied, your voice hoarse as if you had been sick. 
His hands guided your trembling body as you sat up, your eyes caught on your own misty fingers. 
Pathetic. 
“Do you… wanna talk about it?”
A sharp laugh escaped you, flooding you with guilt. An apology died in your throat as you rubbed your hands over your arms, sliding through that layer of sweat. 
“Can I take a shower?”
~
The “Surgeon of Death” waited outside the bathroom for you. You thought he was trying to help you feel safe by not letting anyone else in, until you remembered the concern, the pity on his face. 
He’s making sure I don’t hurt myself. 
You couldn’t meet his eyes as he tried to speak to you on the way to the galley, but a tiny smile broke through your heavy shame from Law’s poor attempt at small talk. 
“Good morning, Y/N!” Penguin’s voice was too loud as he leaned close to grab breakfast at the counter. The stuffed penguin on his hat bobbed toward you while he spoke.
“Morning,” you greeted, with far less enthusiasm, only to be met with a small orchestra of cheerful voices calling to you, and their captain. 
“Hope you didn’t mind the captain on your floor last night. He used to snore like a–”
“Penguin,” Law commanded, voice low as he gripped his crew mate’s wrist. 
The man's friendly clap on your back had made your shoulders tense up, your jaw clenching as Doffy’s voice boomed through your mind. 
‘Only I’m allowed to touch my little doll,’ Doffy rasped, pinching your thighs almost too hard as you sat in his lap. You tried not to stare at the blood spreading across the marble floor. ‘I don’t like to share.’
“Sure, sorry captain, sorry Y/N…” Penguin took a step back, dipping his head at Law’s frown.
“It’s okay,” you breathed, your lying smile forming so easily on your face before he led you to a table in the corner, away from his happy crew.
I’m like mist, sucking the joy and beauty out of a sunny place.
“Why don’t we skip the interview today,” Law suggested, tapping his pretty fingers on the table.
“But, don’t you nee–”
“I need you to be okay,” he interrupted, reaching those fingers to touch your wrist gently, barely, before pulling away. “Besides, I have something else in mind.”
Moving through the metal halls felt like a dream, like you’d get lost, and keep walking for years before you woke up. Until he spun the wheel to open a heavy door, leading you into the largest room you’d seen on this underwater ship.
“How nostalgic,” you teased, nodding your head toward the wall of weapons in what was clearly a training room. 
“It’s been a while since you kicked my ass,” he said with a laugh, and you chewed your lip to fight your cheesy smile. He moved down the wall, pulling two daggers free before facing you. “Catch.”
“Wait,” you cried out, ready to move or mist away, but your body acted on its own. You caught the blade he’d thrown your way, gripping it as you smiled to yourself.
“I see you haven’t lost your reflexes,” he hummed, facing off with you.
“What if I had,” you scolded, your free hand on your hip. 
“I knew it couldn’t hurt you. But your enemies might not,” he mused. “Why didn’t you strike? I gave you an opening.”
“What are you–” you laughed, shaking your head at him. “I’m not a fighter anymore. Besides, I don’t want to be mauled by a bear when your crew finds out I tried to attack you.”
His scowl was so sharp, you almost missed his movement. The second blade flew toward you, spinning clear with the ringing of metal as you blocked it with the first dagger.
“What the fuck, Law?”
He ignored you as he pulled a sword from the wall, striding your way with death in his eyes. Your body slid into a stance it hadn’t felt in years, and you gritted your teeth. Barely escaping Law’s attack, you used the dagger to deflect his blade as you rolled away.
“Why are–”
His sword came down over your head, and you misted out of reach, your breath heavy as anger and fear started to build. 
“Law! Why–”
“Why do you keep saying you’re weak?”
You froze, unable to move as he plunged his sword through your chest, meeting nothing but mist.
“What happened to the girl that could kick my ass? Until I’d get her back, of course,” he grinned, offering his hand to help you up. Still frozen, you watched him sigh, dropping the sword as he sat down beside you. 
“Why do you keep saying that you’re weak,” he repeated softly, his gaze stripping you to the bone.
“Because I am weak.”
The words held nothing but truth, a truth you’d long since accepted. 
“Don’t be stupid,” he reprimanded, the insult bringing your eyes to his with a bit of shock and annoyance.
“Is that my doctor’s orders,” you growled, anger showing through your mask for the first time in ages. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you dug your nails into your shins, the comfort of the mild pain helping you stay grounded.  
“Yes,” he deadpanned, your lips parting as you glared. He didn’t drop that judgemental look on his face, and it was too fucking much.
You hid the need to squirm by standing, picking up the weapons to hang back on the wall. The weight of a useless life pushed your shoulders down, until a tattooed hand touched yours, taking one of the daggers from you while you stared at the floor. 
“When we were kids, you were just as strong of a fighter as I was. I don’t understand how that could change, Y/N,” he recalled, voice soft as he touched your chin. His eyes searched yours, as if you were a puzzle he couldn’t solve. 
“I know you’re fierce. Pretty sure I’ve still got a few scars from you,” he laughed, that gentle sound making your eyes drift closed, a bittersweet smile on your lips. 
“I’m not fierce,” you confessed, shivering as your skin burned where his fingers still held your chin. “I couldn’t keep up. My powers are so... I kept failing, just like they said I would.”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
You almost gaped at him again, but his hand on your chin kept your jaw from dropping. Pulling away, you crossed your arms, that irritation growing. 
“Your bedside manner is shit, you know that?”
“We’re not in bed right now,” he countered, his confident voice cut short by his own awkward cough as he continued. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. I’m not a fighter anymore, Law. I can help you with my memories, you don’t need to do all of this.” He ignored your movements as you gestured to the wall of weapons, falling back into that frown he’s so good at. 
“Get over it.”
“Excuse me?”
He thrust the handle of the dagger into your palm, leaning close. 
“Everyone has to pull their weight on this ship. You’re gonna shadow the crew until we find a job that suits you. You’re gonna sit with me for interviews. And you’re gonna train, just like everyone else,” he commanded, your breath catching as you felt the authority pouring off of him. His fingers were still wrapped around yours, pressing the handle of the blade into your skin.
“Do you under–”
Law grunted with more surprise than pain as your other fist connected with his face. He took a step back, scalding eyes raking over you while he rubbed his jaw, but you cut him off before he could speak. 
“Gotcha, with a capital ‘G,” you declared, moving your arms with the dagger to create a poor image of the letter ‘G.’
Everything else faded from your mind as Law started to laugh, holding himself up with his hands on his knees. You couldn’t help but join him, some good childhood memories finally filling the air between you. 
“Does he still do that,” he asked, still breathless as he fought the laughter.
“Lau G won’t stop doing that until he’s dead and gone.”
He leaned against the wall of weapons, shaking his head as he pulled up ancient memories.
“That old man trained both of us, Y/N. You were neck and neck with me, even though I’d never admit it back then.”
Your face grew hot, hopefully masked by the wheezing laughter you were still recovering from. But shame quickly followed the pride from his praise, so you turned away to stretch, avoiding his discerning eyes.
“Let’s start with hand to hand,” he ordered softly. You let him take the blade from you, meeting him on the mats in the center of the large, echoey room. Bouncing on your heels, you fought to keep yourself in the present. 
‘Can’t take care of a single mission. I’ve never had such a failure in my family before. What should I do with you?’
‘So misty, so flimsy! You’ll never be as strong as us. I bet the young master will throw you out soon.’
‘Why don’t you just focus on being pretty, dear. I heard the young master say that’s all you’re good for.’
“I won’t go easy on you," Law's threat broke through your foggy mind. He smirked, taunting you with a tilt to his head. “Kick my ass.”
Falling into a stance without a thought, you tried to be here, to be nothing but this. You couldn’t make the first move, getting annoyed as Law feinted, tapping you here or there until you finally fought back. 
There he was. That silly, angry boy with that wicked smirk. The smirk that you needed to kick off that pretty face. Two years of rivalry, two years of tiny, vicious preteens sparring daily, came flooding back as the sounds filled the training room. The sounds of fists and shins connecting with bodies, breaths and grunts, snarky remarks and laughter. 
It felt like no time had passed. 
Until you noticed that thought, and shame hit you just before Law tackled you, taking your breath as he rode your body to the ground. 
Coming back to yourself too late, he had you pinned, unable to work your arms or legs to get out of his grasp. 
“I know you can do better than that,” he teased, his black hair caught in the sweat on his forehead as he stared down at you. 
“Go fuck yourself,” you breathed, still winded with his weight on your body.
“With a capital ‘G,” he smirked, too much satisfaction on his face. He laughed as you squirmed harder, trying to free a hand to punch him with. 
Now you were satisfied, hearing him grunt as he struggled to keep you in place. You freed one arm, but before you could make contact, Law changed position. He caught your wrist, his breathing ragged as his face hovered even closer to yours. 
The air was different, shivers running through you as your bodies relaxed into each other. The struggle halted as you felt his breath on your lips. 
His eyes were wide as he took you in, his brows creasing just a bit. Your chest warmed at the memory of a childhood crush, and a quick peck of a kiss before he disappeared. That sweet memory fell apart when he pulled himself off of you, a slight frown on his lips before he turned away. 
Oh. 
“That’s, uh,” he started, walking away as he avoided your gaze, “that’s enough for today. Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll get your schedule for tomorrow. Good work, today.”
You held up a polite smile as sharp blades of ice seemed to carve into your empty chest. Wanting Law to kiss you seemed ridiculous. Selfish. You hadn’t realized that your stupid, absent heart was so delusional. And now you knew exactly why you shouldn’t think about him that way. 
He’s disgusted by me. I’ll always be tainted. Ruined. I’m lucky he hasn’t put me out of my misery yet. Why would Law want to touch trash like me?
The thoughts crashed into you, and the moment wouldn’t stop replaying. The press of him, his amber eyes, the sweat and breath mixing between you. 
And that frown as he pulled away. 
It played on a loop as you walked through the submarine, repeating through another shower, a nearly silent lunch in the galley, and the tour. Law guided you with a hand drawn map, labeled with the various stations, and the crew members you’d be shadowing. A detailed weekly schedule filled the back of the paper, and you let out a quiet laugh at his attention to detail.
“Do you have any questions?”
“No, teacher,” you teased, breathing deep when he finally looked at you again. 
“It’s captain,” he corrected as he pointed to the schedule. “You’ll be with Ikkaku tomorrow morning, then if you’re up for it, I'd like to do another interview.”
“Aye aye, captain.”
Just a twitch of his lips this time, but it was a relief. Until he left you in the galley with the crew, excusing himself to complete some “captain’s duties.”
He doesn’t even want to eat with me now. I probably make him sick.
“Hi, Y/N, you can sit with me! You know, if you want to…” Bepo trailed off, flipping from excited to glum in seconds. 
“Thank you, Bepo,” you agreed, donning your cheerful voice as you sat across from him. 
“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier,” Penguin said as he sat beside you, still too close for comfort after years of Doffy’s rules. “The captain’s the only one that taught us any manners, but I guess I still need some practice.”
“It’s al–”
“Give her some space, you’re being a creep,” Shachi cut in, sitting across from Penguin as he pointed a fork his way. 
“I’m not a creep, you jerk–”
“The captain said to behave ourselves,” Bepo scolded, and you found a real smile on your lips as you saw the concern on his cute, furry face.
“Hey, you’re with me tomorrow, right?”
Ikkaku waved over the bear's shoulder, her dark brown curls making her instantly recognizable. You confirmed with a nod while the three boys at the table kept bickering. 
“Let’s go talk about it.”
Arguments and insults floated through the air, and you were grateful for the rescue as you joined the only other non-man on the ship. She smirked as she nodded her head toward her crew mates.
“Don’t mind the dumbasses, they’re harmless.”
“Thanks,” you laughed, your appetite returning as you watched Ikkaku take a large bite, rolling her eyes at Bepo’s table. 
Comfortable quiet sat with you, and you finally felt a moment of ease in your new world. Even with Law, you felt this energy of holding yourself up, of presenting yourself how you wanted him to see you. But this relaxed woman seemed friendly as she dug into her meal, without the pressure of a smile. She didn’t watch you, or force you into small talk, even when you followed her out of the galley to point out where you’d be working in the morning. 
“I’m ‘Weps,’ so I’ll be showing you how to spot and kill enemies. Hopefully we’ll always be bored,” she huffed, pointing vaguely toward her station before guiding you back to the barracks. 
“That’s you, right,” she asked, tapping on your door. “I’ll yell when it’s time to go.”
“Thank you,” you squeaked, staring for a moment as she turned away. 
That small metal room seemed to amplify your worst thoughts, your loneliness echoing through the air like some torturous bell. You wished you had some sort of drug to knock yourself out. Instead, you curled on your side, trying not to think about how Law had cared enough to sleep on your floor last night, but could barely look at you after your near touch earlier. 
~🦩🦩🦩~
“Don’t get all misty-eyed. That man should have known better than to touch my pretty doll,” Doffy declared, crouching down to press his palm into the sticky red puddle.
The blood of an unlucky man. A friendly man that tried to help you stay balanced while you walked down a flight of stairs in too-high heels. 
“No one else will ever touch you,” Doffy breathed, pressing his bloody palm to your chest. He licked his lips as he dragged his fingers higher, painting your skin. 
Doffy loves me. He’ll be King. Kings have to do this. They have to enforce their–
Your deep breaths and calming thoughts halted as his sticky hand gripped your face, digging into your cheeks to tilt your face up to his.
No more misty eyes.
You felt pride for your lack of tears, and for the smile he gave before he smoothed the hair from your face.
“You’re so pretty when you listen to me,” he praised, his grin deepening when he heard your pleased hum. “You know I’ll have to kill you too, right? You're my doll now. Letting someone touch you with their grubby fingers, and defile my toy sounds like another failure, huh, misty eyes?”
A soft noise escaped your lips as you struggled to be strong for him. 
“Well,” he seethed, the veins in his forehead bulging as he shook your face in his bloody grip, “does my pretty doll have anything to say?”
“I-I’m yours, Doffy,” you promised, keeping your eyes dry as your body went loose, leaning into his hold. 
“My body belongs to you, young mast– Doffy. I’d rather die than let someone defile your property.”
A bruising kiss took your breath, and you whined for him as he laid you on the marble floor. That spill of red beside you had finally stopped flowing. 
“Don’t forget that, Y/N. I’m the only one that gets to defile my pretty doll. My disgusting, little toy. No one would want to touch you anyway. Not if they knew what you let me do to you.”
Doffy laughed as he proved it to you.
And you kept your eyes dry.
~🦩🦩🦩~
Last night, your mind had chosen memories over dreams. The lights and sounds of the sonar were lovely, yet too soothing, and Ikkaku caught you shaking yourself as you held in a yawn. 
“Come on,” she ordered as she pushed you out of the weapons room, leading you through the halls. You pressed your fingers into your brow, trying to alleviate some of the pressure, not realizing where she was taking you until she called through a familiar door.
“Captain, I need to report a crew member who’s unfit for duty.”
“Wait, what,” you cried out, cutting off your own yawn as she rolled her eyes at you. 
Law opened the door, his eyes narrowing on you before he looked at her.
“What’s your report?”
“Y/N was doing well with sonar, but she's clearly sleep deprived. There's no yawning at my weapons station, Captain.”
Ikkaku softened her report by flashing you a tiny smile, but your shoulders slumped in embarrassment. 
“Thank you for the report,” Law cleared his throat, avoiding your eyes as he focused on her. “We’ll try again tomorrow. You’re dismissed, Ikkaku.”
She patted your back as she passed, her gesture of comfort lost as your body tensed at the touch. 
With a shaky breath, you turned to him, staring at his tattooed arms that flexed as they crossed below his chest. 
I didn’t mind when he touched me.
That thought was bittersweet, the bitter turning to bile when you remembered him pulling away. 
“Come in,” he gestured into the office, and you stepped back into your memories. A shrine to Doffy, even if it was built of hate. 
“How much sleep did you get last night,” he spoke like a doctor, scrutinizing every movement as you sat down across his desk. 
“How would I know? There’s no clock in there.”
Somehow, his frown deepened, and you let out a heavy sigh. 
“Did you sleep at all?”
The touch of warmth in his voice filled the cold room, but you didn’t want it. You couldn’t truly have it. So you let the truth ring through your mind as you lied again.
All I am is the broken toy of the man he despises. 
“I’m sorry. I’ll be okay.”
Your eyes slid away, seeing nothing as you pretended to be fine. Yet, you blinked slowly when he stood, his chair scraping along the floor before he came to kneel beside you.
Time seemed fuzzy, but after a while you heard his voice, low and steady. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
Too tired and stuck for anything except for the faint quivering of your bottom lip, you stayed silent. 
“Is it…” he cleared his throat, flexing his hands before he went on. “Is it alright if I hug you?”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he tried to cover his worry in a soothing tone as tears and small choked sounds left your throat. “We don’t need to–”
“Please.”
That tiny, pathetic word left your lips, and you felt sick for asking for anything. Sick for forcing him to take care of you. 
But you didn’t fight as he pulled the chair out, as he knelt to the side of your knees, as he touched long fingers to your cheek. 
“Is it alright if I hug you,” he asked again in a whisper. You were too weak to protect him from you, nodding slowly until you felt more of his touch. 
He pulled you gently forward, your arms limp as he wrapped his around your waist, letting your head rest on his shoulder. 
“You’re okay,” he soothed, sliding a palm between your shoulder blades. “You’re gonna be okay.”
Denials and arguments struggled to leave your lips, anger and fear fighting for control. 
But you were so tired. 
And Law felt so warm, so solid, his smell familiar, yet new. He squeezed you tighter as your breath sped up, holding you still, until you held him too.
He didn’t let go as you dripped hot tears onto his neck. He didn’t let go when you clung to him, digging your fingers into his arms and shoulders. He didn’t let go as your cries flipped from silent to pleading, as you begged for his forgiveness, or choked over the fears and shame you carried. 
Through every round of emotions, you would return to guilt and disgust.
“I’m sorry, Law, I’m sick. You shouldn't be... I’m sorry you have to touch me.”
“Why are you saying that,” he nearly growled, holding your head against him to keep you from leaving his grasp. 
You had no idea how long you’d made him care for you, how many tears you’d let stain his shirt. But however long it had been, you were finally able to speak some of it clearly. 
“You hate him,” you said, your feeble voice breaking between your haggard breaths, “and I’m his… I’m broken. I’m disgust–”
“Shut up.”
A surprised yelp stopped your words, the force of his grip catching your breath. 
Law’s fingers dug into your skin as he pressed you against him, almost to the point of pain, and your mind froze as you waited for him. 
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he declared, forcing the words through his teeth. “I don’t give a shit about what he did to you. I don’t care what he made you do. It wasn’t your fault, you hear me?”
There was anger in his words, but you knew it wasn’t for you. Still, you were stunned, feeling his heavy breaths beating against your chest. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he breathed, his voice cracking as he buried his face into your neck before pulling away. It was almost painful losing his warmth against you, but he took your hands in his. He seemed to be having more trouble meeting eyes than you were, and you started sinking into the chair while he cleared his throat a few times. 
“When I found out that you’d… That he’d… I should have saved you, Y/N. But I decided not to care about you so I could focus on my mission. I let him–”
“Stop,” you cried out, shaking your head against the guilt in his voice. “I wouldn’t have come with you before. I don’t even know when things started to change. But I would have betrayed you. I wanted to be… I’m glad you didn’t find me sooner, Law. I just wish–”
You cut yourself off, melting into his golden eyes. A stolen moment of peace amidst the guilt and pain. 
“What do you wish,” he asked, rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands.
“... I don't think broken people get wishes.”
He gave a jaded laugh before standing, leaning against the desk while he rubbed his knees. 
“Will it help you sleep if I stay on your floor tonight?”
You smirked at his soft words, looking from his knees up to his face before responding. 
“I don’t know, old man. I don’t think it’ll be good for your joints.” The look on his face was perfect, and a real laugh left your raw throat, shaking your tired body. 
“We’re the same age,” he countered, eyes wide with that manic grin, “and disrespecting your captain is a punishable offense.”
“I see how it is,” you teased, lightly poking his side. “Still can’t come up with a good comeback, so you threaten me with violence? Looks like you haven’t changed a bit, you– Law!”
He’d grabbed your wrist before going to his knees again, those pretty fingers searching your ribs for the perfect spot. You writhed and laughed, and failed to fight him off as he tickled you, the way he used to when he couldn’t outsmart you. 
“Law, you–”
“Fuck, sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
Law pressed himself against the desk, still on his knees with his hands held up, his eyes wide and worried as he looked at you. 
You cracked up, true, heavy laughter, until his lips curled into that evil little smirk. But you beat him to it, sliding to the ground to get him back, tickling and getting a good squirm out of him before you both attacked. 
He growled as he laughed, grappling you to the side of the chair until he had you pinned to the ground again. Neither of you could tickle the other as you fought for control or freedom. His cheeks were flushed as he laughed in your face, giving you a snarky, “nuh uh,” when you failed to break loose. 
His tongue pressed between his teeth as he gloated, that cocky grin fading as you melted into each other again. 
“I–I’m sorry,” he sighed, shifting his weight to leave. 
“Don’t be sorry,” you demanded, breathless, and aching for him to stay. “I want…”
You closed your eyes, guilt and shame sliding into your lungs again. 
His weight shifted, settling back where he was before. You bit your lip when you saw him staring at your mouth, and heat filled your body as you became hyper aware of every detail of his gorgeous face. 
“You want,” he rasped as he met your eyes, concern still pouring from his own.
Your words were choked by all those shitty feelings and doubts. 
“It’s okay, Y/N.”
His gentle voice eased the tension in your body, and you were grateful that he hadn’t moved. That he still touched you. 
He was still touching you even though you were broken.  
“I want you to kiss me.” 
~🖤🖤🖤~
You’d ordered the stupid boy to kiss you, your arms crossed as you tried to act like you didn’t care. He’d lost the bet, and had to do whatever you asked. 
“Ew, gross! I’m not doing that.”
Law stuck his tongue out, pretending to be sick.
“You lost the bet,” you scolded, punching his shoulder. “Want me to tell everyone you’re an oathbreaker?”
“Why do you wanna kiss me anyway? I’m sick,” he questioned, a hint of hurt in his voice as he gestured to the pale spots on his face. 
“I don’t care if you’re sick. I like you how you are.” The confession slipped out, and heat rushed to your face as you clamped your hands over your mouth.
“You like me,” he taunted, smirking as he poked your burning cheek. “Ha, you’re such a girl.”
“Am not,” you yelled, your hands going misty with embarrassment. 
“So, all I gotta do is kiss you, and we’ll be square?”
You nodded quickly, not sure if you should trust him. 
“Fine,” he complained, leaning in. 
You didn’t know what the big deal was about kissing. His lips were cold and scratchy when he pressed them against yours for a few seconds, then he scowled at you as he pulled away. 
“That was dumb,” he deadpanned, poking your side. 
“You’re dumb!”
He stuck his tongue out at you, and you chased Law down until he swore to never tell a soul. 
~🖤🖤🖤~
“Ew, gross,” Law grinned, your mouth falling open in shock. 
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he teased, moving his smug face closer to yours. “Kissing you sounds gross.”
“You fucking ass,” you seethed, struggling to get out of his grapple so you could punch him. “I can’t believe–”
He let out a needy sound as he crashed his lips onto yours, and you moaned against him. Your back arched when he released his hold on your arms to cradle your face. 
A sob of relief escaped you, and you felt like you’d lost your mind, your hands clawing at his back to pull him closer. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against yours. “I should–”
“No more ‘sorry's,” you ordered, “I just want you to kiss me.”
Law chuckled, his voice coming back in a wicked rasp. 
“Ew, gross.”
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Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!
a/n: Sorry about the gruesome, but I hope you enjoyed the wholesome Law with his childhood sweetheart. I adore this man 🥰
Note for the timeline: The childhood flashback occurred shortly before Cora took Law away, so both the reader and Law had known each other over 2 years, and were both between 12-13 yrs old. At the present time in the story, both the reader and Law are around 25 years old.
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Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel | @nothing-but-brass
Part 4
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Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.
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| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
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daycourtofficial · 2 days
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Hi! So I love your blog and have read practically all of the main 10 Acotar fan fiction blogs on Tumblr and was wondering if you had any recommendations for authors that you think are underrated or don't have as big of a following/like counts on their posts that you think are worth reading?
Also another question sorry: I've never rly considered reblogging works because I have no followers and my account is totally private but I read today that authors prefer to see people reblog than like their works. I was just wondering if the was true because if so, I'll start doing it, I just always thought it was pointless if my blog is so unused.
Hi! This took me like a week to answer because I was compiling a list of other authors. Let me give some love to some authors that I love and adore and would give little forehead smooches to. I’m really not sure about notes/quantity of notes because I don’t really notice a trend in note count for others, but I’ll highlight some authors I love and have devoured all of their fics, some authors I’ve read only a handful of fics, and some authors that are pretty new that I’m excited to see more of. This is basically a masterlist of some of the authors I follow 😅
Also if anyone has any other authors they’d like to hype up, feel free to drop their @ in the replies.
Anyway roll credits:
@shadowdaddies @imaginesmai @serpentandlily @prythianpages @danikamariewrites @readychilledwine @thehighladywrites @thelov3lybookworm @nocasdatsgay @tsunami-of-tears @tadpolesonalgae @parkerslatte @assriels @utterlyotterlyx @utterlyazriel @imagineaworld @b00kdiary @writeroutoftime @callmeblaire @heartless-tate @sarawritestories @sapphicmsmarvel @throneofsapphics @throneofsmut @milswrites @grandlinedreams @arrantsnowdrop @littlestw01f @starsxblazing @eve175 @itsswritten @aboggoblin @stormhearty @acourtofladydeath @illyrianbitch @illyrian-dreamer @loneliestluvr @solbaby7 @b0xerdancer-writes @azrielsdove @assassinsblade @azrielslightintheshadows @lalacliffthorne @bubbles-for-all-of-us @fieldofdaisiies @historiaxvanserra @fairydustblossom @readychilledwine @secret-third-thing @acourtofwhatthefuck
There are so so so many writers who are phenomenal that I’m sure I’m forgetting. Also I had tagged a bunch of people and it got lost so I had to try to remember who all it was so I’m sorry 😞
As for your other question, it’s very writer to writer dependent. Personally I try to reblog a lot of writing because I have a following and want to promote other writers, but it doesn’t bother me when people don’t reblog my fics. To me, support is support, whether that’s comments or likes or reblogs. I would assume though if you have a blank blog, the reblog won’t really matter to most.
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freckliedan · 19 hours
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wait can you talk more about christmas 2018?
Anonymous asked: Just what you said in your post! "the first christmas where they publicly spent that much time together" did they usually keep quiet about where they were?
i can't speak to the 2014-16 era because i fell out of touch with the fandom at that time, but i was absolutely around during 2017 & 18. both of those years marked HUGE shifts, and both of those huge shifts came at the tail end of gamingmas/dilmas. you can check out my original frog theory post and my frog theory tag for elaboration on the function of gamingmas irt all of this. as just like. prerequisite framework reading.
ANYWAYS. the thing that was such a big deal was that dan was openly visiting the lesters with phil. yes, you can visit friends' families during the holidays. but it's much more frequently something you do with a significant other. so the ruckus was because dan and phil knew the conclusions people would jump to if we knew dan visited the lesters at christmas, and they still let us know that it happened.
(this got disgustingly long, so i'm putting the rest of this post under the cut.)
part of what made that such a big deal was having that happen after the no homo/closet era, the "we're not together we're not even that close of friends we're just roommates" era. the significance of their trust & openness was MUCH more tangibly felt. a way larger percent of the fandom at that time had been present when the vday video leaked/had joined shortly afterwards when that was one of the biggest things impacting both phandom culture and our relationship with dnp.
so in 2017 when we got a glimpse of dan up north at the lesters' in a couple of cornelia's instagram stories? we lost our fucking minds about it. it was only 2 (i think) background cameos, but it was quite literally unprecedented. it's not something that qualifies as openly spending time together at the holidays because of the method throug which we found out about it, but like. there's no way they didn't know that cornelia was posting those, and no way that they didn't know we'd know about it.
when i say we, i mean dedicated phannies. people who could possibly be reading this post, not casual subscribers to the gaming channel. because when it comes to casual viewers, or even people who aren't a part of dan and phil's usual audience at all? there's a lot of methods of communication that they just plain aren't paying attention to and won't be aware of.
the most direct, permanent methods dan and phil have for communicating are videos on either of their individual channels or on dan and phil games, and after that is instagram grid posts or tweets, as well as videos on their side channels. twitter replies, insta stories, livestreams, and their public likes on any social media platform? those are for a more private audience. their appearances in other people's posts reaches a similarly small audience.
knowing that they were starting to be more and more open through the communication channels only open between them and dedicated fans, and that it was a trend - december 2017 is also when phil, in a liveshow, read out someone's "you and dan are so married" comment and just.. laughingly said "it-it's a useful thing". (link to gifs of that). it wasn't a one-off. it was a trend.
and compared to 2018, it was dust. they spent the whole year becoming increasingly open with us, through increasingly direct methods. it was a whirlwind. even for people who've watched all the videos and liveshows, you don't have the whole picture. the onslaught was coming at us from every angle at all moments. you'd have to also explore the full archives of social media posts, insta stories, meet and greets , social media likes, and like.. the archived recordings of every interactive introverts tour date. it was batshit.
it was genuinely one of the most insane years of my life. i was having physical symptoms. we all knew what was coming, we all could tell they were working up towards coming out, but nobody wanted to trust that we were right about that. my dashboard was regularly at a fever pitch.
and december 2018 was the culmination of everything. and then they were talking directly to us in a liveshow and being. insanely open. they told us that dan was going with phil to visit the lesters. and they told us that pinof was ending. and then dilmas started dropping, aggressively cementing the fact that dab and evan were sim-universe proxies for dnp, while dan and phil posted instagram grid and story updates about visiting the lesters. and then dab and evan came home to the howlter house for the holidays. and got engaged.
and then they went on hiatus, and we pretty much did not hear from dan until he came out.
the point is. we knew there was a fucking insane energy. we KNEW something big was coming. we fucking knew. it was a two year build up to dan and phil being the most publicly gay they'd ever been on the gaming channel and every single other platform - and part of that insanity was them being open about dan visiting the lesters, which coincided with them having their proxy sims get gay engaged while visiting family.
"did they usually keep quiet about where they were?" anon, the last time before all this that they had openly acknowledged dan visiting the lesters during the holidays was 2009.
the way they were acting over christmas of 2018 had me experiencing shrimp emotions to such an intense degree i was having verifiable psychic visions.
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