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whytheylosttheirminds · 5 days

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I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron

(Prologue and Chapter 1)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

Prologue

Before gold, before grams, before the gun, there was you. Back when there weren’t crosses to steal, lines to snort, cops to run from, there was you. Long summer nights on the Druthers, your mom blowing up your phone ‘cause you missed curfew again. Skipping class and riding to the beach on the back of his bike. All the way back to grade school, playing tag and pretending you were pirates. Then middle school, that kiss under the lifeguard tower, a first for both of you. In high school, the night you got back from the “character-building summer camp” you had been shipped off to and you shared your other first. When you were first together, it didn’t even hurt, but just felt like fucking finally.

He remembers it all, taking all of his strength to keep it stuffed under the surface. The coke, the violence, the drama he creates in his wake cover you up nicely, until those nights when he’s dead asleep and there you are again, leaving. When he wakes, it all comes back to him. How he sat on the curb and watched you go, bloody and hurt from the night that was your final straw. How he showed up on your doorstep the next day, like he was five-years-old again asking if you could come outside and play. How your mother told him you were gone and wouldn’t tell him where you went.

“Honey,” she said with something like pity in her voice, “Promise me, you’ll let her go, let her be happy.”

A promise he kept, until the day you rolled back into town with no warning. Your timing could not have been worse. After the summer from hell, the summer that made him a killer, he finally felt like he was in control. It wasn’t until he saw you, the only person in the world that ever really knew him, that he realized he had no idea who he was.

Chapter One

You clutched your phone tight, reading and rereading the message. One you used to get nearly every night but hadn’t seen in two long years.

party at cameron’s tonite !!

It was a group text, sent by the girl from your high school you bumped into in the grocery store earlier that day. You had been back on the island for all of an hour before inevitably seeing someone you knew. You tried to duck quickly into the cereal aisle, but she caught your eye before you could disappear, an action you were infamous for.

“Omg, we need to hang out soon!” She had said, before handing you her phone to put your new number in.

You smiled your fakest smile and said, “it’s a must!” You didn’t think either of you really meant it, but apparently she had.

There were eleven or twelve other numbers in the group text, none you had saved, but you assumed they were likely other people from your high school. She probably just added anyone in her contacts she could think of, not even stopping to realize she was inviting the Kook prince’s former princess to his party. Your relationship had been the stuff of legend on this island. Everyone had an opinion, you were practically a celebrity couple, and it was the biggest news on the island for months when you left, suddenly disappearing overnight. Some real shit must’ve gone down around here since then to make it such old news that this girl didn’t even think about it when adding you to this text.

Your heart pounding in your ears, you couldn’t believe it when you felt yourself typing out i’ll be there :)

You wore your hair down, the way you always used to have it in high school. After you left, you had cut it short, wanting to shed away as much of your old life as you could, but in the last few months you’d started to let it grow back. Now it flowed down to the middle of your back, tickling the skin of your shoulders where the thin spaghetti straps of the little dress you had on left them exposed. You let the front pieces fall around your face, a sort of curtain to keep an extra layer between you and the other partygoers.

You could not believe you were here. For real this time, not in a dream as you had been every night for two years, but really here.

As you walked down the gravel path, it all came rushing back. The smell of Rose’s garden, the distant sound of the ocean lapping against the shore, the low thud of the music echoing through the crisp evening air. How many times have you walked down this path? How many nights had you spent here, your senses filled with the glory of Tannyhill, the glory of him? And yet now it felt so heavy, the sights, sounds, smells of it all were nearly choking you. Tears welled in your eyes, but something kept your feet walking towards those grand front doors, towards him.

Four years earlier…

The glass panes of the front door are slightly blurred, only revealing the soft lighting of the grand entryway on the other side. You had crossed this threshold at least a thousand times in the ten years since your family moved to this island. Knocking felt strange, you felt so small standing here in the porch light, surrounded by moths and the thick coastal August air. An envelope, wrinkled from being opened and rifled through so many times, was clutched between your clammy hands.

A figure you couldn’t quite make out approached the door, and your heart pounded in your ears as you hoped desperately it would be him who opened the door. But it wasn’t.

“Oh, hey - I- hi, Mr. Cameron,” you stammered, ever intimidated by the island’s most powerful man.

“Y/N,” Ward nodded cordially. “It’s after 10pm.”

You smiled weakly, if you felt small before, you feel positively infantile now.

“I was just hoping I could see Rafe for like, just a second,” you pleaded, putting on your sweetest smile.

“He’s studying,” Ward said. “You can come back tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Before you could protest, the door was closed and the blurred figure retreated into the house.

Never one to give up, you stuffed the letter into the back pocket of your jeans, and stepped back from the porch, sizing up the massive house to see which rooms still had lights on. You knew the blueprint of this place by heart, checking off each family member mentally as you scanned their window for signs of life. Wheezie’s room? Dark. Sarah’s room? Dark. Rose and Ward’s room? Still lit. This would have to be a stealth mission.

You snuck around the side of the house and looked up at the last window on your list. To your excitement, the room was still lit. You saw a long shadow pass by the curtains, and you actually jumped a little from the thrill. After spending the longest summer of your life apart from the one person you wanted to spend it with, he was actually right there, just two stories off the ground.

You traveled 800 miles today, what was a few more feet? Blocking out the better judgment ringing in the back of your mind, you picked up a few pebbles from the rocky path that leads to the backyard, and started climbing the big tree that grew right up past Rafe’s balcony. How you were gonna get from the tree to the balcony? That was five-minutes-from-now-you’s problem. You chuckled to yourself as your body naturally found each branch and knot on the tree. You used to have competitions when you were kids to see who could climb this tree the fastest, and you beat Rafe everytime. You remembered the shocked look on his face the first time he saw you scurry up the tree, you were hoping for a similar level of approving surprise once you got where you were going.

Once you reached the branch directly across from Rafe’s balcony, you pulled one of the pebbles from your pocket and chucked it at his window as hard as you could.

“Shit,” you whisper-yelled as the throw fell short and the pebble dropped, loudly knocking into the first floor window below. You couldn’t afford another noise-causing miss, so you recalculated the throw and bit your lip as you lobbed the next pebble hard. It smacked into Rafe’s window with a loud TINK and you smiled in satisfaction. You waited a moment, then two, and still nothing. The shadowy figure did not return to the curtain. You only had one pebble left, and you had never been good at climbing back down this tree. Remembering the time you fell out of it onto the waiting Rafe below, and you both ended up needing stitches, your stomach twisted in fear. You took in a deep breath and held it, letting the last pebble fly. Another sharp TINK, and a moment of baited breath later, the tall shadow finally returned to the window.

Rafe opened the curtains harshly and you immediately broke into a wild smile. He looked so cute in his fitted gray t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, his normally gelled back her falling in messy pieces around his face. You held back a giggle, delighted by the completely confused look on his face as he searched out the window for the cause of the sound. He lifted the window open and examined the two pebbles that had fallen on the windowsill.

You took the opportunity to whisper a loud “psssst.” His face shot up in surprise and his eyes finally found you in the tree, just a few feet off of the balcony. Where you expected to see surprised delight on his face, you instead caught something cold and irritated.

“Y/N,” he whisper-called to you. “What are you doing?”

“I just got back, I wanted to see you!” You called to him, hoping his apparent anger was just in response to his own shock.

“I’m busy.” Rafe went to close the window and you felt your moment of opportunity slip away.

“Wait!” you stopped him. “Please don’t make me climb down. We both know it won’t end well.” You smiled a sweetly shy smile you hoped would melt his icy demeanor a bit.

He sighed and looked at you annoyed for a moment before climbing out the window, his height requiring him to duck low in order to make it through. He had grown even taller over the summer, he must have hit 6 foot by now, maybe more. Your stomach flipped as you watched his athletic frame emerge from his bedroom, now able to see how defined his arms looked in the moonlight. You’d always thought he was a cute boy, but the way he looked right now lit a fire in your belly. Then you realized what it was - while you were gone, the cute boy-next-door had become a man.

“Just reach over,” he directed you.

“I don’t think I can without falling,” you explained. “I think I’m gonna have to jump.”

“Are you stupid?” He scoffed humorlessly.

Your heart sank, the boy you left behind three months ago never would have called you stupid.

“It’ll be fine, you just have to catch me,” you explained.

He rolled his eyes and opened his arms, reaching them over the bannister of the balcony, “fine.”

The brief moment of joy you got from his submission faded fast as you made the mistake of looking down at the gap between the tree and the balcony.

“Actually…” you said, bravery fading.

“What, are you scared?” Rafe taunted.

“No!” you insisted. You smiled at him, suddenly feeling like the two of you were ten again and he was daring you to jump off the trampoline into the pool in your backyard.

Now or never. With a deep breath and a sharp yelp, you threw yourself out of the tree and towards his waiting arms on the balcony. As promised, he caught you, and pulled you quickly over the bannister. His arms wrapped around your waist, yours around his shoulders, he held you there just a few inches off the ground.

You flattened your hands against the taut muscles of his shoulders, delighting in the strong warmth of them. But before you could fully revel in the feeling of being in his arms, he released his grip on your waist and you dropped the final few inches to the ground. Rafe quickly stepped back, breaking the lock your arms had around his neck. Despite the southern summer heat, the air between you suddenly felt ice cold.

“Rafe,” you whispered, stepping towards him, but he only pulled further away.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said without even looking at you.

Rafe started back towards his window, and something gave you the feeling he was not going to invite you to follow him through it.

“I need to talk to you,” you started to explain.

Rafe whipped around to face you, the way he towered over you at his new height sending goosebumps down your spine.

“Why don’t you go talk to your new boyfriend instead?” He snapped.

You were so stunned that you let out a little laugh, which only made his furrowed brow scrunch even more in anger.

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“I saw the pictures your camp was posting on their website all summer. I saw you wrapped around that douchebag.”

It took a moment of confused silence for you to realize what he was talking about, when it finally dawned on you, you laughed again. He turned from you and started heading towards the window again, but you caught his arm, your hand not able to fit even halfway around it.

“No, Rafe,” you explained, “That was just Andy, one of the other campers. We were doing a trust fall exercise. He dropped me like two seconds after that!”

Despite himself, Rafe turned to look at you, eyes examining you nervously.

“Are you ok?” He asked in a small voice, wishing desperately that he didn’t care.

You smiled softly, there he was - your boy.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, showing him the small scar on your wrist. “Just a little scrape.”

A moment passed, he avoided your eyes but allowed you to step closer, your hand sliding down his arm and slipping into his, his fingers reluctantly intertwining with yours. You knew exactly what words he was struggling to find, but decided to let him get there on his own.

Finally, “Why didn’t you answer my letters?”

Your other hand reached into your back pocket and pulled out the envelope you had tucked away. You held it out to him wordlessly. He took the letter and held it to the light coming from his room, examining it with a confused look. The envelope was addressed to him at Tannyhill, from you at camp. When he finally noticed the “return to sender” label, it all clicked.

“They kept getting returned to me, I don’t know why,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I asked to use my phone to let you know but they wouldn’t let me. I almost just snuck out of camp and came home so I could explain it to you.”

“Your mom would’ve been so mad,” he said, finally, finally smiling at you.

“Then she would’ve just taken away my phone and we’d be back where we started,” You said. “There’s like twenty more letters like that. I don’t know why they never made it to you, it’s like someone was sabotaging me.”

Rafe seemed satisfied with your explanation and the remaining bit of anger on his face melted away completely. He stuffed the letter in his pocket and suddenly threw his arms around you, lifting you in the air as you yelped in surprise, giggling as he started planting sloppy kisses all over your face and neck.

“Shhh, baby, my parents will hear you,” he whispered. “They’ve got me locked in my tower because I failed my last quiz in this fucking summer school pre-calc class.”

“Rafe!” you said in mock-scandal. “Naughty language!”

“Oh, baby, I can say way naughtier things than that,” he growled in your ear, your cheeks now burning from real-scandal.

“C’mon,” he said, setting you down and grabbing your hand, to lead you to his still-open window.

He placed his large hand on the small of your back as he helped you through the window, climbing in after you and closing it slowly so as to not make a sound.

You and Rafe had done some more-than-kissing things before, but that was the night you gave yourselves to each other completely. He held you after, softly kissing the scar on your arm from when Andy had dropped you.

“Never gonna let that Andy asshole touch you again,” he said between kisses. “He can find his own girl, you’re mine.”

You giggled and he looked up at you in confusion.

“Rafe,” you were laughing hard now. “Andy’s gay.”

He broke into a bashful grin, a quick blush of embarrassment swept across his cheeks before he grew serious again and started kissing up your arm.

“I don’t care,” he said. “They should all know - all the Andys and Jakes and Chads and whoeverthefucks,” his kisses had reached your neck, “no guy is ever gonna get to touch you like me.” He pulled back and looked into your eyes with a sincerity that squeezed your heart. “Gonna love you forever. Gonna marry you, make you a mom. Never gonna spend three months, or even three fucking days away from you again. That what you want?”

“Yes,” you breathed, meaning it with your whole being.

“Good.”

Now…

The memories flooded your brain as you opened the door and stepped into the home you used to think would be yours someday. The party was swelling, the vibe feeling so familiar and so uncomfortable at the same time.

You made your way straight to the kitchen, desperately needing a drink. Every step you took sent a memory flashing through your thoughts like a shock to your brain. You passed the living room and saw movie-nights-turned-make-out-sessions on the couch, playing mario kart with Sarah and Wheezie while Rafe laughed at your hyper-competitiveness, prom pictures in front of the fireplace. You passed the dining room and saw the first family dinner you were invited to, how you made Ward laugh with a story about fishing your own dad used to tell, how Rafe squeezed your thigh under the table in pride. You entered the kitchen and saw the time you and Rafe set off the smoke alarm trying to make pancakes, the time he lifted you onto the counter and went down on you when his family was out of town. And then, standing by the keg, you saw the girl who invited you, clearly plastered already.

“Omg!” She yelled when she saw you.

Everyone else in the large kitchen turned and looked at you. It felt dramatic, but you could swear the whole room fell silent when they saw you, a comical record scratch playing in your head.

The girl who invited you ran over to you, beer sloshing over the side of her solo cup and onto her shirt.

“I can not believe you came,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I completely forgot when I invited you, about, you know, you and-”

“Can I get one of those?” you cut her off quickly, gesturing towards her drink.

Before she could answer, a loud crash came from outside the kitchen’s open french doors. The heads that had all been watching you suddenly snapped toward the sound towards the crowded back yard. When the loud bellow of a man’s voice rang out, the people in the kitchen all ran towards the unfolding scene. You pushed through the crowd and out the doors, drawn inexplicably to the voice. Your heart dropped to your stomach when you realized why - it was Rafe.

There in the backyard, packed with drunk people and lit by string lights, Rafe stood with his fist clenched in the collar of some guy’s white button up, forcefully pulling the scared looking dude toward him while he yelled.

“I said none of that fucking cheap shit,” Rafe yelled at the guy you now realized was a cater-waiter.

“I’m sorry sir, I-” Rafe threw the man down and he fell back in the dirt.

“This isn’t some ghetto block party out in The Cut,” Rafe yelled. “Do you know who’s fucking house you’re at right now?”

The crowd around you watched, most smiling in support of the man they looked at like he was a rockstar. You cringed at the looks of admiration in their eyes and took Rafe in with your own.

He looked different, harder. His floppy blond locks had been shaved off, and he had traded old t-shirts and jeans for slacks and a polo. He was as tall and built as you remembered, but instead of it being endearing, it was just scary as he looked down at the poor server like he was gonna kill him.

Then he spat on him. He actually spat on another human being. It disgusted you in more ways than one, and you felt your heart breaking in your chest as you realized you had no idea who this man was. The boy who held you on that night four years ago and promised to be yours forever clearly didn’t live here anymore. You turned quickly and pushed back through the crowd, unable to watch another second of this sickening display of toxic masculinity.

Rafe glared down at the pogue-scum in the dirt below him, an eerily familiar feeling washed over him as something moved quickly in the corner of his eye. He turned at just the right moment to see a whip of long hair disappear through the crowd. But it wasn’t. It couldn’t possibly be. Surely, it was not you.

(chapter 2)

a/n: Hiiii this is the first fic I've posted in about 10 years!! Hope you enjoyed, forgive me if I'm rusty! More chapters to come :)

1K notes · View notes

cozage · 9 months

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hii can i request silent treatment with sabo, law, and ace? like the one you wrote before! i love reading it sm i wanted to see how they (sabo, law, and ace) would react if they received/ gave silent treatment !

Characters: gn reader x Sabo, Law, Ace Cw: everyone involved being a bit of an orange flag Total word count: 4k

Silent Treatment

Sabo

Oh sweet sweet Sabo. He didn’t even realize his offhanded joke in the meeting had offended you. He didn’t think about how you and Koala were the only ones not laughing about the jokes the officers said. He didn’t notice how you and Koala immediately left the room fuming as soon as you could.

He had to run to catch up with you after the meeting, and you showed no sign of slowing your pace.

“Hey!” he called out, trying to get to you. “I’m gonna go out with the guys for a bit, I’ll catch up with you soon?”

“Do whatever you want,” you shot back. “The men know best after all, right?”

He must not have heard the sarcasm and anger laced in your voice, because he just gave you a wink and a peck on the cheek and ran off with some of the other leaders.

Koala gave you a side smirk. “They’re clueless, I swear,” she laughed.

“We never get the credit,” you grumbled. “I can’t do it anymore, Koala! I’m so fed up with this!”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“So many times!” you cried. “We’re treated the same professionally but socially-”

“It’s a commanders club,” she finished for you. “Maybe we should make a separate club?”

“Rule One: No talking to them until they apologize.”

Sabo was surprised to find that you weren’t waiting for him in bed when he got home. You weren’t in the spare room, either.

He finally found a note on the kitchen that was short and to the point. “Sleeping at Koala’s.”

Confusing, but he was slightly drunk, so he opted to go to bed and figure it out in the morning.

When morning came, he was disappointed to find that the coffee hadn't started. He went to grab his overnight oats from the fridge, but you hadn’t made that for him either, which was strange. Usually when you stayed at Koala’s, you prepped all that stuff ahead of time. But last night you hadn’t. He’d have to ask you about that before the meeting this morning.

He arrived late to the meeting since the coffee took longer than he thought it would and he had to make breakfast. You were already sitting when he got there, you and Koala talking to each other quietly. Normally you saved a se at for him, but today all of the seats had been filled, and he was left with one at the end of the table.

He kept trying to catch your eye, but you refused to look at him. He finally caught Koala’s at one point, and mouthed “What’s wrong?” but she simply rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Dragon.

If Koala was mad at him, that meant you were mad at him. He racked his brain the entire meeting, trying to think of what he would’ve done to make you upset. But he couldn’t think of anything.

He tried to catch you after the meeting, but you and Koala made a beeline for the door and ignored his calls after you.

“Just let them go, dude,” Jiron said to him. “Those two never want to hang out with us anyway.”

Shit. It all clicked together. The jokes made in the meeting yesterday, him going out with the boys without asking if you and Koala had wanted to come.

“Maybe if you treated them with a little respect, Jiron, they would.” Sabo’s words came out in a low, threatening hiss.

“Look, I know you’re close with them,” Jiron said. “But they’re not very nice to us either. They’re kind of…”

“Kind of what?” Sabo edged, his blood starting to boil.

“Well…bitchy.”

Sabo wasn’t really sure what happened next. He didn’t remember doing anything, but the next moment, Jiron was on the ground holding his nose. Blood was leaking out through his fingers onto the ground.

“Don’t use that word to describe either of them ever again. Got it?” Sabo growled the words, looking around the room.

“What the FUCK, Sabo?” Jiron cried, but Sabo was already pacing toward the door, desperate to get to you as soon as possible.

He caught up with you and Koala quickly and jumped between the two of you, wrapping his arms around your alls shoulders. You tensed at his touch, but once you realized it was him, you just scoffed and shrugged him off.

“Go away, Sabo,” Koala sneered as she shoved him away.

“I’m sorry!” Sabo jumped in front of you all, trying to block your path. “Please, I’m sorry I laughed at those jokes yesterday and even made one myself. That was really shitty of me.”

“Sabo,” you sighed, shaking your head.

He fell to his knees and looked up at you, begging. “And please teach me how to use the coffee machine! And make overnight oats! I’ll make it from now on. I’m starving and I’m sorry.”

His apology made you giggle, and you took his hands and helped him to his feet. Once he was standing, you laced your fingers through his. “You’ll really make the oats?”

“If you want me to.”

“Deal.” You smiled, and gave him a soft kiss to seal his promise. “Can’t go back on it now.”

“And how are you going to make it up to me?” Koala pouted.

“Oh,” Sabo suddenly got very bashful. “I punched Jiron, I think.”

“You WHAT?!”

Law

You bounded into Law’s office, excited to tell him the news. “Law! Shachi just caught-”

“Hang on,” Law mumbled, flicking through his book. He was always looking for something. You were always interrupting him.

After a few minutes, he looked up at you. “Okay, go ahead.”

“Shachi just caught an electric eel! A massive one!”

The moments the words left your mouth, Law was back to looking back at his book. “Interesting. Is that all?”

“Well, I just thought-”

“Hang on,” he mumbled again, already lost on another tangent in his head.

“Don’t worry about it.” You left the room before he had a chance to respond, though you doubt he even noticed your absence.

He got like this sometimes, and you tried not to get hurt by his sudden coldness. It’s just what happened when you were with the Surgeon of Death. A few hours later you had all but forgotten the encounter. There was an island coming up, and you ran to alert him.

“Law!” You slammed his door open, ecstatic. “Law! Guess-”

“Do you mind?!” His loud and hostile voice made you take a step back. “I’m trying to do something and you keep interrupting me!”

You pushed down the lump that was in your throat, but you could feel your lip trembling, threatening to give you away. You couldn’t look weak in front of him.

“Sorry,” you whispered, rushing out of the room.

Shachi found you first, furiously wiping the tears from your face. “I told you, you’re too good for him! Maybe you should give him a taste of what it’s like to lose you.”

“Like how?”

A devious grin grew on Shachi’s face. “Silent treatment.”

“Hey captain.” Bepo peeked in the door nervously, knowing there was tension about to be caused. “We’re heading off to the island.”

Law looked up from his book, confused. “Island?” You always told him when you were about to approach an island.

“We docked about a half hour ago,” Shachi chimed in from the hallway.

Law could hear something in his voice. “Where’s Y/N? Are they going?”

“They're going,” Shachi said, grabbing the door handle.

“Well, can you-” Law’s words were cut off by Shachi slamming the door shut.

That was Law’s first indication of something stirring. Shachi always took your side during squabbles, and he seemed livid today.

Law meant to go talk to you. He wasn’t sure what he needed to apologize for, but he knew it was something. But then he found an interesting article about poisons, and he got sucked into reading. Before he knew it, the sun had set and he had to turn on a lamp to keep reading.

Shachi, on the other hand, kept your mind busy. He took you out on the town, dragging you into every clothing shop and making you try anything on that even might look good on you. He pulled you into dessert shops and trinket stores and forced you to go on a beach walk with him. He was your best friend for a reason.

“What if he doesn’t apologize?” you asked him, watching the sun sink. “Then you don’t talk to him, no matter what,” Shachi responded.

Law was still shut away in his office when you returned, and your heart felt a soft ache. He hadn’t even noticed your absence.

“Come on,” Shachi said gently. “You can sleep in our room.”

“I should go talk to-”

“No,” Shachi said firmly. “He always does this. He needs to learn his lesson.” So you slept in the crew bunkhouse for the first time in months. Nobody asked questions, everyone just accepted it. You suspected Shachi had filled them in.

It took Law a few minutes to realize what was wrong. He had come into his room silently and brushed his teeth in the dark before bed like always. It was quieter than usual. And when he went to lay down, the bed was still made. As he pulled the covers back, he couldn’t help but notice how unnatural it felt. But he couldn’t place why.

It was too cold, he realized. And he quickly flicked on a light in the room to find it empty. Thoughts raced through his mind. Where were you? Had you gone missing? Had the Navy or someone else captured you to turn you in for a bounty?

He quickly walked to the shared common room, where he found Penguin and Ikkaku sitting. “Did you go to the island?” he asked, scanning the room. It was too late for you to be up, but he had to double check.

They both nodded, and Law tried not to panic. “Did Y/N come back?”

“Yeah,” Penguin affirmed. “We had dinner with them and Shachi, and we all walked back together.” He gave Ikakku a nervous glance before continuing. “I think they’re sleeping in the shared bunkhouse.”

“What?” Law hissed. “Why?” But Ikkaku and Penguin both shrugged, and Law turned and stormed out the door, making a beeline for the bunkhouse.

He flung the door open, searching for you. He quickly found you in the bunk below Shachi, and he walked over to where you were sleeping.

“What are you doing?” Law said, shaking you lightly. “Come to bed.”

You groaned in your sleep and pushed him away. You never slept well in the bunkhouse. You were a light sleeper, any type of noise made you wake up.

“Y/N,” Law said, shaking you harder. “Let’s go.”

“Law?” Your eyes finally opened, your voice full of exhaustion and sleep. Once you realized it was him, you slapped a hand over your mouth. Silent Treatment.

Law could see the hurt and anger in your eyes when you recognized him, and his heart constricted when you turned away from him.

“Can we talk about what’s going on? Please?” he begged. He was trying not to disturb others, but you could hear them beginning to stir.

You almost caved, but Shachi came to your rescue. He hopped down from his bed and put himself between you and Law. “You can talk in the morning,” Shachi said. “Y/N wants to be here, so let them sleep here.”

Law tried to look past Shachi to you. “I know you can’t stand sleeping here. Just come to bed. Please.”

“Captain.” Shachi’s voice was on the verge of dangerous defiance. “Leave.”

Law stared at him, not sure what to make of Shachi’s protectiveness over you. His gaze was almost challenging, but Shachi refused to back down. He could hear the others in the room starting to stir, and he knew he was only embarrassing you, so he conceded. “I’m coming back first thing.”

“That’s fine,” Shachi said. “If Y/N wants to talk then, you’re welcome to have a conversation.”

Law slept horribly that night. His fingers kept reaching out for you. The bed felt too big, the covers weren’t warm enough. He finally got up and started reading. He was too anxious to sleep.

So were you. You were tossing and turning every 20 minutes, trying to get comfortable. You couldn’t sleep without Law’s heartbeat thrumming in your ears. But Shachi made you promise to never admit it.

Law was sitting in the hallway outside the door when you went to get breakfast. You almost tripped over him, and when he saw you, he immediately stood to his feet. His tired gold eyes pierced into your soul, and you could see he was in rough shape. “Can we talk now?” He tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, but you could hear it loud and clear.

You gave a panicked look to Shachi, but he only gave you a smile and a small nod, encouraging you on.

You gave Law a nod in agreement. You still weren’t ready to talk to him, but you could listen.

“I did something yesterday,” Law said, closing the door to his office as you walked in. “I snapped at you when you were excited about something. I prioritized my studies over you and I’m sorry.”

You watched him closely, making sure his words were genuine. Law had a tendency to apologize when he knew you wanted to hear it, not when he actually felt bad about it.

“I’ve been doing that a lot lately,” he continued. “I tend to get obsessed with my work, and my relationships hurt because of it. And I know it’s not fair to ask you, but I need you to tell me when I’m hurting you. Because I don’t want to hurt you. That’s the last thing I want. So please…tell me. Yell at me. Smack me. Just don’t…don’t disappear on me. Please.”

Your heart melted at his words. You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “And you won’t get mad?”

“I promise I won’t.”

You gave him a mischievous grin. “Even if I smack you really hard?”

“I feel like I’m going to regret saying that,” he groaned.

You giggled and gave him a soft kiss. “Too late, Captain.” You rested your head on his shoulder, his familiar scent making your eyes start to droop. “Can we go back to bed now?”

“Bed would be nice,” he mumbled into your hair, already pulling you toward his private room.

Ace

Fifteen people in the bar, and your boyfriend had flirted with every single one.

Friendly. That’s what he always called it. He was just being friendly. But you saw the way those commoners looked at him, the lust in their eyes. Getting with a pirate would be thrilling, they’d whisper when his back was turned. He never seemed to hear them talk about him, but he’d always be around them. Convenient.

“You shouldn’t be bothered,” he’d always say. “You know that I’ll always choose you.”

But you were bothered. You hated the pit of jealousy that formed in your gut every time a new person walked up to him. They were always so touchy, rubbing their hands along his shoulders, and the daring ones would even venture down his chest. Like he was their plaything. But he didn’t belong to them.

He was yours. Just not in this bar. Or any bar.

Maybe it was time to give him a taste of his own medicine. You were certain he wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of you flirting with another man.

Your eyes met an attractive man across the bar, and you decided it would be a good theory to test.

Seeing what you were about to do, Marco grabbed your wrist, pulling you back down into the seat. “Wait,” he muttered.

“Stay out of it, Marco,” you hummed softly. Your voice was pleasant, but there was a threatening undertone to it.

“If you want to make him jealous that will end in a fight and change nothing except the intensity of your makeup sex, go for it.”

Your cheeks brightened at his words, and you finally broke your eye contact with the random man to look at the commander. “Marco-!”

“But if you want to make him panic and stay by your side from now on, listen.” Marco’s voice got low. “Ace looks over here at least once every five minutes. He’s checking on you. I’m guessing jealous sex is his-“

“MARCO!”

“Anyway, I guarantee if you vanish, it’ll make him sweat. Just go back to the Moby Dick, and crash in my room for the night if you want. Give him a bit of the silent treatment. Don’t lean into what he wants. Push away, and I know he’ll stop.”

“How?”

“Because he’s head over heels for you, dummy. Even right now, all he wants is your attention. Don’t give it to him and you’ll cut the bad habits.”

It was worth a shot, and you wouldn’t have to talk to any sleazy guys to test the theory.

“You’re the best, Marco.” You flashed him a grin and stood, giving Ace one last glance. “But never talk about my sex life again.”

“Oh please,” Marco scoffed. “You have no idea what the commanders talk about during shower time, do you?”

Your eyes widened in horror, but Marco just laughed. “Relax! It was a joke!”

“It better be!” you hissed. “Or I’ll skin that boy alive.”

You gave one more glance to Ace. He was caught up in some conversation with a woman, giving her most of his attention. You rolled your eyes, jealousy panging in your chest, and slipped out the door.

The first two times Ace glanced over at your table, he wasn’t worried about your absence. But the third time, he started to get a bad feeling. You had been gone for too long.

He wandered back to the table, trying to appear casual and unbothered. “Hey Marco,” he said, bringing him another beer. “Where’s Y/N?”

Marco knew he was using the beer as a bribe, but took it anyway. “Not sure, they walked out about thirty minutes ago. Hasn’t been back since.”

“What?” Ace could feel himself sobering up, worried about your safety. “Where’d they go?”

“They seemed tired,” Marco said, watching Ace carefully.

“But they always tell me when they’re going home,” Ace grumbled, looking around. “I’m gonna head back too. Kind of over this whole scene.”

Marco chuckled, reading through Ace’s words, but he didn’t say anything further. He watched Ace walk out the door and back to the ship without so much as a goodbye to anyone in the bar, and he knew his plan would work.

Ace tried not to panic when you weren’t in his room. Sometimes you slept in other places, like the common room or the bunkhouse. Especially on drunken nights, you always seemed to find some random place to pass out. But you always told him when you were going to bed.

He didn’t sleep well. He wandered around the ship several times, trying to appear unbothered. But he was searching every nook and cranny, desperately looking for where you had landed yourself.

He didn’t see you again until the next morning, sitting at the breakfast table with Marco and a few others. You were completely surrounded by people, but Ace stopped by your seat on the way to the breakfast line.

“Hey.” He touched your shoulder and you stiffened at the contact, which was odd. Normally you leaned into his touch. You always looked up at him full of love, silently begging him for a morning kiss. But this morning you didn’t even bother to look his way. “Where’d you end up last night?” he asked.

“My room,” Marco answered for you, laughing. “That sure was a shock to walk into!”

You laughed, shoving Marco slightly. You still refused to acknowledge Ace, though it was starting to get difficult. “Hey Thornton, you left shortly before me. Where did you end up?”

“I swear I could’ve made it back to my room if I wanted to!” he bellowed, and everyone laughed.

“Right!” you laughed. “I bet the deck all night sure was cozy!”

You were ignoring him. Ace was sure of it. Had something happened between you and Marco…no. The two of you had only ever been friends, so close you might as well have been siblings.

He finally left you alone, his brain in overdrive trying to figure out what had made you so upset since the last time he spoke to you.

“You flirt too much,” Marco said, joining him in line.

Ace looked back at him, confused. “What?”

“You’re wondering why Y/N is ignoring you, right?” Ace shrugged, trying not to show that it was bothering him too much, but Marco clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Drop the act, man. You should care. And I know you do. I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears trying to figure it out.”

“I just like to talk to people,” Ace defended. “What’s the harm in that?”

“The harm is you don’t just talk. You flirt.” Marco chuckled, shaking his head. “I know what you’re doing, dude, and I don’t blame you. But you’ve got a good thing. Don’t lose it because you want to…talk.”

Ace frowned, annoyed with being called out so personally, but he thought about it while he ate his breakfast alone. He knew how much you hated the way he treated local islanders when you all went out. But he loved the jealous, possessive side of you. He loved watching you fight for him, even if you were fighting with him.

He found you lounging on the deck, reading a magazine. He walked over to you and sat on the edge of the lounger. He saw your eyes flick up and then immediately back to the magazine, and he could’ve sworn the air temperature dropped 10 degrees.

“Hey,” he cooed, his hands dancing up your legs, finding the spots he knew you were ticklish.

You tried to move your legs, but there weren't many places to escape to without getting up and walking away.

“Please talk to me,” he pouted. He leaned against you, pushing your magazine out of the way and resting his head on your chest, looking up at you with his signature puppy dog eyes.

You turned your head away from him, trying your best to ignore him even though he was physically on top of you, pinning you down.

“Pleaseeeee,” Ace begged. His hands came up and playfully squished your cheeks, and you struggled to keep a straight face. He was so good at making you smile.

“Go away,” you finally said, trying to push him off of you. It was useless, but you had to try.

“You speak!” Ace cheered, and you rolled your eyes. You were tired of his antics. You wanted an apology.

“I’m so lonely without you, babe,” Ace sang offkey, his fingers tracing along your shoulders. “Please come back to me, my loveeeee.”

You didn’t react, but you could feel your vision starting to get blurry. He was too stubborn, but you couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep being humiliated and forced to watch Ace live the best of both worlds.

“I’m sorry,” Ace finally whispered when he saw your eyes starting to get watery. “I know I’m a little insane.”

You finally looked at him, still silent. Waiting for more.

“And I’m sorry I’ve been hurting you for so long,” he said. “I don’t want to lose you. So no more flirting with random people in bars. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

“Promise?” you whispered, your voice breaking.

“I promise,” he said, nuzzling into your chest and hugging you tight. He’d hold you close and never let you slip away again.

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reysdriver · 7 months

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Roleplay | E.M.

Day 1 of Kinktober: Roleplay — eddie x fem!reader smut

warnings: 18+, Minors DNI - roleplay, piv sex, unprotected sex, blowjob, fingering, edging sort of, creampie, light begging

words: 1.2k

Eddie rapped twice against your bedroom door to get your attention while you put on the finishing touches on your costume. “Are you alright, sweetheart? Let me know when I can come in, okay?”

You exhaled lightly and spoke up so your boyfriend could hear you from the hall. “I’m ready, Eds.”

He opened the door slowly, and you bet it was because he wanted to build his own anticipation for the moment he saw you. And when he did get a look at you, he was stunned. His eyes moved from the way you braided the front two locks of your hair, to the way you did delicate, sparkly makeup, and to the long chiffon dress you wore that let him get a faint view of your lingerie underneath.

When he had gotten home that night, you had told him you had a surprise for him—and you had implied it was sexual—but he never would have expected this.

Even though you were sure he would be into it, his silence could have been an indicator for anything. “Eddie? Do you like it?”

“You’re— You’re her.” He responded.

You knew exactly what he meant. You had attempted to dress up as the fairy princess in Eddie’s new Dungeons and Dragons campaign—the character he based off of you—and you were so glad he recognized it.

“Yeah.” You whispered, then repeated your previous question. “Do you like it?”

“I fucking love it.”

Eddie’s lust-ridden voice sent a chill up your spine and brought back your confidence.

“Yeah? Well, I was hoping you could be your character and I could reward you for saving me from the Arcane Brotherhood, would you like that?”

“Baby, that’s some shit out of my fucking fantasies.”

“Good. You can just lay back and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“I don’t get a costume or anything like yours?” He asked, settling down on the bed.

You got on the bed and started straddling him. “Well, the goal is kind of to have us both be naked soon, so…” You shrugged, then leaned down to kiss him.

He kissed you back, then pulled away for a breath. Well, you thought it would be to take a breath. Instead, he kept talking. “I’m kind of digging the whole outfit though…”

You sighed exasperatedly. “Oh my god, Eddie. Do you want your reward for saving the fairy princess or not?”

He pulled you back down so you could kiss again. “Yes, absolutely. I’ll shut up now.”

You two were making out heavily, but you moved down to kiss Eddie’s jaw, his neck, his collarbone, and everywhere in between. Eddie tends to have wandering hands when you make out, but this time you had to stop him before they went too far down on you.

When he looked at you with a slightly confused face, you had to explain to him why you did it. “This is an expression of my gratitude for coming to my rescue. I’m sure the High Forest will be so relieved to have their princess back. I want to do something to show how grateful I am.”

He looked like he finally got it. “So I should just lay back like a paladin weary from a tiresome journey to rescue the princess?”

“Exactly.” You said with a smirk.

Then you scooted back a foot or so, just to sit beside Eddie’s legs so you could start undoing his belt and pulling down his pants enough to free his dick.

You looked up at him and batted your eyelashes while stroking his hardening member, trying to put on an innocent yet sexy face. “Is this okay, handsome paladin?”

He was already breathing heavily, but trying to calm himself. “It’s great, princess.”

“Tell me if anything is less than perfect, okay? I want this to be the best gift I can give you.”

“Oh, don’t worry, honey. So far, I love it.”

His compliments just egged you on, but you tried to hide your smile so he wouldn’t get too cocky. You leaned down and fit as much of him inside your mouth as you could. You knew you were doing alright so far because you heard Eddie choke out a moan with every swipe of your tongue against his cock.

You kept going, bobbing your head repeatedly, creating an amazing bedroom symphony when paired with his repeated moans.

Because you knew Eddie better than anyone, you knew that him beginning to get tense was the sign you had been waiting for to tell you that he was close to cumming.

Instead of continuing to suck him off, you let off of him, knowing exactly what it was doing to Eddie.

Eddie looked at you with aching eyes. “Honey, I was so close—”

“I know, but I thought you’d rather finish in your favourite place.” You pulled his pants off completely, then went to remove your dress as well.

“As much as I loved that dress, I’m so happy to see what’s underneath.”

You knew he would like it. In fact, you bought a set with a hole in the panties so you wouldn’t even have to take it off and Eddie could keep looking at it the whole time.

“Yeah? I bought it from some fairies in an oak tree who said any charming hero like yourself would love it.”

“And I do.” Eddie said as you straddled him again. “I mean, I didn’t come rescue you for the reward but I have to admit it’s incredible.”

“Well, I trust you, but I can’t be sure I’ve given a sufficient reward just yet.”

You lined him up with your entrance and lowered yourself onto him slowly. Eddie let out a groan of your name and brought his hands to your hips. You both let out some whimpers—quieter than you would if you didn’t have such thin walls—and you moved your hips to ride him properly.

You kept moving up and down while Eddie helped gently guide you. And even though you really wanted the night to be all about Eddie, you didn’t protest when he moved his hand to help move you along.

“I’m so close.” You said breathily.

He looked like he was holding back. “Me too, princess. I want to finish inside of you, right with you. That’d be the best part of this. Please, princess.”

“I’m right there, honey!”

With the perfect way Eddie was moving his thick fingers, plus the feeling of him releasing inside of you, it was impossible to hold off your climax.

You continued to ride him through both of your highs, and then you practically went limp on top of him. You kissed his jaw in the way Eddie always liked as a way to cool down, and he spoke again.

“If I write more characters based on you, can we do this again?”

You let out a giggle. “I’ll give you one night for every character, Eds.”

#xena's kinktober celebration #kinktober #roleplay #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut

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ceilidho · 7 months

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prompt: (loosely based on Brahms from The Boy) you buy a house. you start to suspect you're not alone in it. [PART 1] tw: death of a parent, someone living in your house

Lightness; there were cracks in the floorboards and light glittering up from beneath them, which is what you first notice about the house.

It would be poetic if it meant anything. Instead, you are forced to pry the planks of wood out one by one at dawn when your fingers are trembling with exhaustion and your clipped nails throb—and, of course, there’s nothing remarkable beneath where the light shines through.

A piece of glass from a picture frame—all right, so you wonder how a piece of glass the size and width of your hand gets caught beneath the floor with the ashes of the photo once held behind it, but it’s half-six o’clock and you’re still yawning from the long drive the day before—catches a glint of light, and, well, you sigh at the blood welling over your nails from having pried off the floorboards with your bare hands.

You’ll replace the boards later. Maybe bandage your hand.

It’s so quiet outside this early. Everything smells just as it should.

It had taken years of scrimping and saving, storing every nickel and penny away in your piggybank to buy your first house. The foreclosure process takes about ten months, every second during which your nails bite into your palms when you close your fists. Your entire life savings goes into the downpayment. It quite literally takes your bank account, holds it upside down, and shakes until every coin falls out.

It’s yours though. A house all to yourself after years of living in apartments—you’ve spent decades living out of a suitcase, your parents changing apartments every year almost, never settling in one place. Buying a house wasn’t a nice-to-have so much as a physical necessity for you.

It’s an old house—plenty of character, as the real estate lady charmingly describes it when you showed you the place. You don’t have the money quite yet to replace the old windows, repair the drywall, brick up the chimney that you won’t use, or change the flooring, but since it’s just you, you don’t mind taking your time. The previous owners hadn’t really kept the place up; there’s even a panel at the back of the closet in your room leading into the walls that needs to be replaced.

Later, when folding your clothes into new drawers that smell of new wood and old wood, you startle, thinking you’d packed your mother’s underwear along with your own; you thought you’d donated everything after she died. The thought is nauseating (a cold sweat breaks out) until you recognize the pattern on the blue cotton as your own and you crumple the fabric between your fingers for a second, dried blood and all.

Dawn is rising outside, emptying out the house until it’s just you and the fifteen pairs of underwear you’d packed days ago. Everything else is sitting out on the patio in cardboard boxes. When you finally get the rest out where it can breathe, morning has settled into midday.

When you finish putting your clothes away, you’re careful not to move for another few minutes until your hands stop shaking and your jaw unclenches. For breakfast, you fix up an omelet with spinach and a glass of cranberry juice. A friend calls not long later, but they mainly speak about their husband and how the living room will look once it was stripped of the gaudy floral wallpaper and repainted. Your friend hasn’t even seen the house yet, only pictures of the house from when you had searched it on Google Maps and tentatively held the idea glass-like in your head for several days.

Your friend says in a voice molasses thick, “I’ll visit as soon as you’re tucked in down there.” It makes you rub your nose against your sleeve.

The pictures online had been splotchy and dim, barely recognizable when held against the lightness of the house full-formed. Your friend had sent you off with cream and lilac paint swatches, wooden coasters, and a copy of Ulysses before you had packed up the last of your things into the back of your car and the sky had been aglow with sunset. A large sunset that dribbled down the horizon and slid all slippery smooth into twilight. Your friend’s face had been lovingly shadowed in their goodbye, the sort of shadow that cut her jaw just so, and made one seem so private and longing. Like an instance of specific longing.

It’s a good morning though, and you bite the inside of your cheek through the whole phone call, not stumbling over frequent ‘I love you’s and ‘I already miss you’s, but feeling like maybe you should. Anyway, your friend hangs up long before you know whether to carry those thoughts out.

Then it’s still again in your unfurnished little bedroom—in one corner, there’s a rolled up carpet and end table that you’d brought in earlier, but they sit there unaltered and you think that maybe later you’ll get around to doing something with them.

No one else calls while you eat breakfast, cutting the omelet into irregular triangles and putting enough hot sauce to make your eyes water. Which they do, but it’s good. After eating, you grab a mug out of one of the boxes on the patio to make a cup of instant coffee.

You fix the floorboards back after, nailing them back in place while sipping the lukewarm coffee that is still so, so good. So, so good to you because it’s early, so on one hand it’s comforting, habitually speaking, but also because the house is so new and old that sometimes you breathe in and feel lightheaded, or like your heart might tremble so violently that it’ll reduce itself to dust.

So, coffee is good. Keeps you steady on your feet when you’re climbing back up the stairs to lug more boxes into the bedroom. Boxes of books you didn’t want to unpack, so they sit under a beam of sunlight in front of the one window in the room and you sit yourself down next to it, curling your legs underneath you and resting your head against the box.

Strange, that the house is so warm when it’s nearly the end of October and it’s not like this city is all that different from the one you left. That the shard of glass you’d found beneath the floorboards could fill you with such a dizzying amount of melancholy (you still have it in the pocket of your sweater, which had deep pockets, deep pockets that apparently you use to carry around pieces of glass); again, though, the house is so warm and your bones are oozing out onto the carpet you unroll. Everything in you feels molten and fluid.

Your spirit roars into the light of this new town with its new air, its new terrain, its new immediacy. Stepping out into the street outside the house, you feel every nerve in your body tremble in the realization of this new sensory landscape. Your fingertips buzz—you could reach out and touch every surface you pass: the wood-grain of a park bench, the sleek chrome of a chain-link fence.

The town feels unreal in a sensuous way. When you go out to explore the town after unpacking the majority of your belongings, you can’t help being drawn down streets and up alleyways, eyes trailing over the russet bricked houses and hedges dotting the front lawns.

On the corner of a street, nearly three blocks from your house, there’s a café with houseplants almost spilling out of the door and windows; you duck inside and order a coffee and a bagel before tucking yourself into a corner by the window.

On the street across from the café, a woman in a yellow raincoat walks by.

“Drip coffee?”

You look up from your seat, startled almost by the voice, at a young man. He has a flare of freckles and an unsure smile.

“Yes, sorry,” you mumble, taking the mug from him and tucking yourself back against the window in almost the same moment.

To be sitting in plain daylight without company or a book or your phone out in front of you feels absurdly barren. Anyone might walk by and perceive the desperation that seems to pour off you. Even the few other occupants in the café are occupied with something or other, eyes pulled down to their tables or to someone sitting across from them.

For a spell, walking home in the daze of the possibility of new peace, you feel light; to be poised on the verge of new possibilities and peering out over the edge, cautiously but with a ray of hope. Even the air feels fresh.

The lightness, of course, cannot last long.

Days before you left, someone told you that it’s common to have nightmares in a new house. You prove them right on the first night.

In the wake of a bad dream, you pad into the kitchen, illuminated only by the moonlight, for a glass of water, reduced to only the silvering edges of your skin in the dark room.

Occasionally it happens that you dream of your mom, in her blue jeans and raincoat again, standing outside the old coffee house from back home. She always looks well rested, and that always stings somehow—it makes you feel like you’re unraveling, even in a dream. She never says anything to you or even looks your way, but you know that she knows you’re there, and that dawdling energy, obvious indifference, is all a measured hurt. You dream of your mom staring off into the red-gold distance, honey-gold herself, irreducible in this place.

Then, you wake up, panting and squeezing your eyes shut.

You pour yourself a glass of water, but the tears don’t stop, coming out of you like a divine flooding.

The two of you hadn’t been on speaking terms in the months before her death. In fact, you hadn’t even known she was dying. You remember you had an argument almost a year before, but for the life of you, you can’t remember what it was about. It was that inconsequential. That inconsequential and still she let it simmer and fester and didn’t bother to tell you that she was dying until it was too late.

You scrub your eyes with the back of your hand, smearing the salty tears across your skin. In the moonlight, your grief seemed inescapable, layered under the lowest level of your flesh. All the loneliness of lonely dwelling catching in your throat, bursting out like the last release of breath of a woman beneath the swell of a cresting wave. The moon is not a comfort; the sky rounded in with its indifference, wholly incapable of putting any sentiment to rest. You feel languid in this old grief.

Unable to bear being inside, you venture out onto the porch for a bit, closing only the screen door behind you. There’s a single light still on in your bedroom, the house otherwise dark. You sit in the cool breeze until your tears dry.

There is something entirely relaxing about watching a breeze push all of the trees to one side—like the world moves with one breath, one thought. Back when you lived in the city, you hadn’t lived in such close proximity to nature, used to the concrete landscape. In the city, everything seemed to exist at opposing speeds and modes of existence—everything perpetually at odds.

You stare out into the street and drink your water, leisurely pacing around your front lawn. Just taking in the feeling of being settled for once. It’s a safe neighborhood. It’s an old house, a real fixer upper, but it’s a neighborhood where you can just walk around at night.

It takes a while to unwind, to shake off the nightmare. You know it finally has when a yawn forces its way out of you and your eyes water again, from exhaustion this time. Draining your glass, you turn around to make your way back inside. You pause. Your foot hovers in place.

Then, in the shadowy depths of your house, you think you see something move again.

#simon ghost riley #ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #cod simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #ghost cod

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thepinklink · 1 month

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@skyward-floored made this post the other day and it gave me ideas. As it is 3,000 words long, I thought it’d be too long for a reblog, so here we are. Thank you for the inspiration, and I hope you like it, Peggy!! ❤️

Read the fic under the cut

“So, what was he like?” Warriors asks conversationally as he sits down before the fire, settling down to eat his dinner of rice.

Marin looks up from her own bowl and hums a questioning acknowledgment. “Mm?”

“You mentioned you knew another Link before.” Warriors shoves a spoonful of rice in his mouth. “What was he like?”

Marin nods, and ponders for a second, a dreamy glaze over her eyes. Warriors recognizes it in the other soldiers he talks to when they mention the loved ones they left behind. Marin opens her mouth as if to speak, the words still evading her for a moment. When they come, they’re wrapped tenderly in admiration and wistfulness.

“He was…like a dream. He was…he was everything I was missing. I told him that I wished I could fly, and he made me feel that I could. I told him I wanted to see the world, and he became it for me, and I saw him every day. His hands were rough and calloused, but he chose not to be calloused in character. He looked at me like I was everything, and he was smart and he was kind and you could see it all in his eyes. And those eyes, they were blue, bluer than the sea where it kisses the sky on the horizon.” She smiled, face turned towards the sky, mind far away from the campfire.

Warriors doesn’t know what to say. He’s heard a lot of people gush about their loved ones, but there is something about the way Marin speaks, careful and sure, that surprises him. He feels he shouldn’t be hearing this—like it was meant for her Link’s ears only, and he was eavesdropping. He’s saved the trouble of an initial response when Marin speaks again.

“I can still hear him so clearly. I can still feel his hair beneath my fingers. I remember him so well…but it all feels like a dream, I feel…that it all *was* a dream, im a way. And, verily, all dreams must come to an end. I wonder if he remembers me, and I wonder if he misses me as badly as I miss him. I’m sure he’s got better things to worry about. But…maybe that’s better. If I hurt this badly, I don’t want him to feel it at all. He told me stories of his past, and he’s lost so much and gained so little…it would be better if he didn’t remember me and was saved the pain of missing me. But then…I wish he did remember me. We loved each other…I hope he remembers me as fondly as I do him.” Marin looks at Warriors, browns eyes brimming with heartache. “Is that selfish?”

Her expression is pleading—silently begging for an answer Warriors is certain he has no business giving. But he can’t leave her hanging. He swallows.

“No. I don’t think it’s selfish. I think…I think he thinks the same thing. I think he lies awake at night, and thinks about you. I think he carries you with him everywhere, in a way, and I think that in a world full of gold and glory and titles, you are his greatest treasure. And I think it will always be that way, for him.”

The lapse in conversation is taken over by the crackle of the fire, and for a few minutes Warriors just watches the sparks curl up towards the night sky. Eventually, with a sniffle, Marin speaks again.

“You Links…you’re all the same, aren’t you?” She says with a watery laugh. “So caring and sensitive. You and him would have gotten along well.”

Warriors chuckles. “I’ll take your word for it.”

* * *

It’s Legend.

Warriors knows as soon as he meets him. They shake hands, and then Warriors finds himself staring into a pair of bright blue eyes.

Blue eyes, as blue as where the sea kisses the sky on the horizon.

They’re sharp, too, Warriors can see Legend taking in a thousand little details even in the brief second they make eye contact, and then introductions continue and Warriors is left reeling under the feeling of having met a ghost.

Later, he talks himself off that ledge. He’s paranoid—as soon as he heard they were all named Link, he’d been on the lookout. He was just paranoid, looking for the first guy who matched Marin’s description, when it was an unrealistic endeavor anyways. Marin hadn’t mentioned any defining physical traits—all the Links had blue eyes, the same blue eyes, in fact, and calloused hands. Everything else had been regarding his character, the way he treated her and made her feel. And Warriors definitely wasn’t getting any first-hand examples of those.

As the weeks go by and Warriors gets to know them all, he ignores the insistent instinct that Marin’s lover is Legend and instead analyses everyone else. And they all fall epically and tragically short. Wind was talkative and never mentioned a Marin, despite telling plenty of stories all staged at sea, and if Warriors was understanding things correctly, Wind was close to a pirate girl named Tetra. Nothing romantic, per se, but everything about Wind simply had the wrong…vibe. That was all Warriors could really argue. Since Marin never mentioned physical traits, it could have been any of them, really, leaving Warriors main method of deduction as whatever his gut was feeling.

Wild ruled himself out with his own Zelda, and most of his story came out fairly early in their journey and no Marin was ever mentioned. Twilight spoke of a girl who had broken his heart, and his melancholy demeanor didn’t match the wistful longing Warriors thought he should have had. Sky was happily courting, Hyrule much too shy, and Four too active and analytical.

Warriors briefly thought it could be Time—he spoke of his wife with utmost adoration. But then they met her, and although Warriors was surprised at her strange likeness to Marin, knew it definitely wasn’t Time.

Which left, as Warriors had originally and always known, Legend. And it only grew more obvious as the time passed.

He guessed exactly who Time married, because he loved someone near the same. He could be snarky and bold when he talked to them, ruthless and calculated in a fight, but Warriors saw the way he interacted with kids and people in the villages they stayed at or passed through. It was as if he’d flipped a switch, and suddenly he was the gentlest and softest person Warriors had ever met. Meeting him in person strengthens the way Marin had described him—hands rough and calloused by his past and traumas, but he chose purposely not to let it sour his character. And he did it all at the ripe age of 18.

All of this, of course, fell into place weeks after their initial meeting, and when it finally did Warriors was left with an entirely new problem: getting Legend to confirm it.

He knew in his heart, sure, that Legend was in fact the Link Marin had loved so deeply. But he could only be 99% sure. That last one percent would come as soon as Legend mentioned her, but Warriors is impatient to wait for it to happen organically. But he also doesn’t want to just walk up to him and mention it—he respects Legend, sure, but that isn’t enough to bridge the gap of familiarity. It isn’t enough to explain the awful feeling Warriors has. It isn’t enough to cover the possibility—probability—that if Warriors is too impatient, it could lead to insensitivity and the last thing Warriors wants to do is dredge up bad memories when Legend is caught in a place where he can’t run.

Ultimately, Warriors can only wait. No matter how anxious he is, he places his money on the goddesses having everything planned out already, and his chance will come when it comes. Which it does, and sooner than the Captain expected.

Months have passed since they first met, and the group has grown much closer. Close enough to rifle through each other’s things, poke and prod at other, compete for largest scar and in general, act very much like brothers. And Warriors has grown to consider them so; in a way he never has with anyone else, Warriors loves them as if they are all of the same flesh and blood. And after that, his mission is no longer delivering one last message. It is giving his brother a vital piece of information. He no longer owes it to him because of Marin or out of perceived obligation. He owes it to him because to keep it to himself would be to lie to his brother.

Well. Maybe not directly, but still. It would feel like lying.

Thus, one warm and humid evening somewhere in Time’s Hyrule, deep in some woods somewhere, when Legend stands up and stretches and declares he’s going on patrol, Warriors jumps straight the chance to accompany him. The silence is peaceable at first, and the two heroes walk through the woods, eyes peeled and ears open for any sign of monsters. The camp noises fade far behind them, replaced by the sounds of a forest preparing for bed. It’s broken when Legend stops abruptly.

“What?” Warriors asks, stopping too and looking around. “Did you see something?”

“What do you want?”

Warriors stops and looks at Legend. “What?”

“What do you want?” Legend repeats, eyes boring into Warriors’ soul. They betray no sign of hostility or wariness, and neither does Legend’s tone. It’s short and to the point. “I can tell you’ve got something on your mind. You have since we first met. I thought you must have recognized me, but I know I’ve never seen you before in my life. So what is it?”

Warriors blinks. Damn, the kid is perceptive. He struggles to find the words, everything sounding too soon, too indifferent, too harsh. Shouldn’t there have been a more gentle lead up to this? Then again, Warriors has no idea how he would have achieved that, either.

“Spit it out,” Legend says impatiently. “I’m not a little kid, I can take it. Are you mad I smeared mud on your face the other day? Because if that’s the case I’m not apologizing, I was perfectly justified—“

“Marin.” Warriors says, and Legend’s jaw snaps shut. His whole body stiffens, something flickers in his eyes—good natured annoyance turns to fear, ever so briefly, before he relaxes again. He’s deadly calm now, attention completely on Warriors. He doesn’t say anything, so Warriors keeps going.

“I met a girl during the war. Her name was Marin. She had red hair and a blue and purple dress and she could sing like no one else. When we met, and I told her my name, she smiled and said that she knew a Link, once. That was you, wasn’t it?”

Legend nods stiffly. Warriors hesitates. Again, words evade him. Legend doesn’t care.

“That’s not everything.” His voice is almost monotone. “Tell me.”

Warriors opens his mouth. No words come out.

“Captain.” It’s harsh this time, almost anxious. “Say it.”

“…She’s gone.”

* * *

“Spit it out. I’m not a little kid, I can take it. Are you mad I smeared mud on your face the other day? Because if that’s the case I’m not apologizing, I was perfectly justified—“

“Marin.”

Legend hates the cold shock that shudders through his whole body when Warriors says it. He forces himself to stay calm, taking a deep breath and exhaling through his nose. His silence prompts Warriors to continue.

Legend nods. He can tell that isn’t what Warriors wanted to tell him. Not all of it, anyway.

“That’s not everything. Tell me.”

Silence.

“Captain.” He feels the faint tendrils of desperation prickling at his heart. “Say it.”

“…She’s gone.”

Legend doesn’t understand at first. Maybe, unconsciously, he doesn’t want to understand.

“What? Of course she is. She…she has been, for awhile now, and she clearly isn’t here—“

“Legend. She’s dead.”

There’s no way he can misunderstand that. He can’t feel the rest of his body. He just keeps standing there, staring hardly at Warriors’ face.

“What.”

“She…she died, Legend. I’m sorry. She fought long and hard, but ultimately the enemy overtook her. She didn’t…she didn’t even have a chance.”

Legend keeps staring at him for a second, and then he shifts his gaze to the ground. He feels sick. He’s shaky and weak, and after a minute, he just sits down.

Warriors knew Marin during his war. Which meant she survived. Somehow, she had survived Koholint, even though it was a dream.

And then she died in that war.

The irony. It’s so ironic, in a sick and twisted way, he can taste it. Uncalled for, a chuckle escapes him, and then a soft laugh, and then he’s just cackling outright, loud, humorless laughter because of course she survived. Of course the Windfish would spare her, of course Legend find that out in an information of her death somewhere else.

Of course Legend would only find out that he didn’t kill her after she had died at someone else’s hand.

He laughs, and he laughs, and he laughs until Warriors is shaking his shoulders and telling him to snap out of it. He does his best, but ultimately all he can do is grasp Warriors’ forearms and look into his eyes, still chuckling breathlessly.

“…Of course.” He says. Warriors looks genuinely afraid of what Legend will say next. “Of course, the goddesses would let me blame myself. Of course they would let me spend all this time hating myself, until they knew there was no way she could distract me.”

Warriors is visibly confused. “What?”

“That’s got to be it…right? There’s nothing…I don’t know why else they would do this. How…could I be so damn unlucky? I’ve lost her twice. How do I keep doing this?” He laughs again, but when it fades out he’s too short of breath and his eyes burn. Scalding tears sear his cheeks, and he doesn’t know if he’ll survive how badly his heart hurts. Not again.

Warriors shifts to tuck him completely against his chest, holding him tightly, as if he could absorb the pain somehow.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into Legend hair. “I’m so sorry.”

* * *

Legend cries for a long time, and violently enough that Warriors wonders if he’s getting enough air. They’re incredibly vulnerable here, and when Warriors hears something approaching through the woods, he jumps up and very nearly stabs Wolfie as he jumps through the bushes. Wild is close behind him, and once Warriors knows it’s just them he returns to Legend.

“Whoa!” Wild yelps softly as he sees Warriors gathers the limp and unyielding Veteran into a bridal carry. “Is he—“

“He’s not injured.” Warriors assures him, shifting his hold on Legend so it’s more comfortable for them both. “He just heard some pretty shocking news and it hit hard.”

Wild nods, understanding immediately and offering no further inquiries.

“You guys have been gone so long we started to worry. Supper’s way past over and we were about to get ready for bed when we realized you hadn’t returned, so we split up and went searching,” Wild explains his sudden appearance.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” Warriors apologizes sincerely.

“It’s alright. Just as long as no one’s hurt.”

The walk back is silent, and Warriors has never been so glad to see bed rolls surrounding a campfire. Legend isn’t asleep, but he’s sluggish and almost unresponsive. Wild digs his bed roll from his bag while Warriors coaxes him to at least take off his boots, and then as soon as he’s tucked into his bed roll, he’s asleep. Warriors, searching to offer a little bit more comfort, undoes his scarf and lays it over the Veteran like a blanket. He doesn’t know that it will actually do much in the way of support, but it makes him feel better so he leaves it.

Warriors himself stays awake until every searching member of the chain has returned, just to explain what took them so long. Any anger at the inconvenient scare dissipates upon hearing how it came to be, and seeing the Veteran curled up in his bed roll. Arguably, they can’t really tell by his face that he’s been distressed—but the fact that he was already asleep when they all got back, and that he remained asleep throughout the remainder of bedtime prep, spoke for itself. Even though Warriors didn’t say exactly what Legend was told, the weight of the situation falls on them all, and except to establish watches, no more words are spoken for the rest of the night.

* * *

Not a word passes Legend’s lips for a week. His mood seems to shift through the days; at first he is almost angry, going everywhere and about everything with a hard purpose, refusing to let his emotions get the better of him. And then one day, he loses that battle as soon as he wakes up, and is the last one for the rest of the week. The last one to get out of bed, the last one to pack up, the last one to start and the last one to stop.

The others do their best to accommodate him, no matter how much time they lose. They can tell he’s trying, even when he’s too tired to. They’ve all been there, in some way, at some point in time. They all give him space, they do their best to silently convey that they’re there for him when he wants to reach out.

Everyone, that is, save Wind. And it is Wind, surprisingly, who breaks him out of it all.

He’s annoying, at first, sticking to Legend’s side like glue and chattering away at every hour of the say. Legend comes very close to strangling him more than once, but that all fades with the anger. The week continues, and Wind’s constant talking fills the silence, the lighthouse on the hill during a storm. He doesn’t realize it until later, but Wind was always helping hold him together. His every story, his every mundane topic was all meant to keep Legend from getting trapped in his own head. From forgetting the feeling of grass beneath his boots and the sound of his brothers as they all walked on.

An evening almost seven days exactly from that first, Legend is sitting in front of the fire, leaned against a log. Wind sits on the log next to him. For the first time in a week, the Sailor is quiet, and not because his mouth is full of food. Then,

“What was she like?”

The question is a violent shift from anything else Wind had said before. His cheery, story-telling tone is gone, replaced instead with tentativeness. It’s soft and curious, worried he’s overstepped. Legend glances around the fire, and the rest of the Chain has all stopped. There’s some tension as they wait for Legend’s response, unsure if he’ll answer or if it will have a negative effect. Legend’s eyes settled back on the fire and he sighs.

“She was my everything.” He looks at Wind, who is watching him with rapt attention. “You would have liked her.”

He doesn’t know what else to say. Words can’t really describe her, anyways.

“Could she sing?” Wind asks. Legend nods.

“Yes, she could sing.”

“What did she look like?”

“…She had red hair, and big brown eyes, and she could get anything out of me with those eyes.”

Wind laughs. “She sounds like Malon.”

Legend smiles. “She was a lot like Malon. Of Malon were a goddess, they’d be almost the same.” He looks at Time. “No offense, Old Man.”

“None taken,” Time says softly, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

A comfortable silence settles over the camp for a few moments.

“She once asked me if it was selfish of her to hope you remembered her.” Warriors says suddenly. “I said it wasn’t.”

Legend nods again. “You were right.” He looks up at the unfamiliar stars, and wonders if she now knows he never forgot.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #lu warriors #plink writes #lu fanfiction #peggy my dear #lu wind #lu wild #lu time #lu marin

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tealfloyd · 1 year

Text

THE REVERSED CINDERELLA TALE

“I’m sorry MC, but you can’t go to the ball~”

SUMMARY: NRC decides to host a ball in collaboration with RSA, but our dear prefect is not invited. Yet, the night of the ball, something strange happens… (Everyone + Neige and Che’nya x Fem!Reader)

WARNINGS: None, I believe)?

CONTENT: Ortho's part is platonic. Crowley being an ass, but like, it was unintentional, really. As I said, this is pretty long, mostly because it has every character separately, plus 20+ barbie dress transformation. WORDS: 9K+

A/N: I still feel bad since I lost all the content I had before, but it’s okay, I’m glad I saved everything separately because if I didn’t… I wouldn’t be uploading this in the first place.

Also, if you want to use this as inspiration for sketches, go on! I remembered a certain comment which asked for permission, and I certainly don't mind! Now onto the fic~

Crowley really has the worst timing.

You were just about to drink a vase of water, throat dry because you passed the whole day with the first years. That’s when the door opened, leaving you to almost drop the cup, your reflexes making it possible.

“Crowley! What the hell!?” You whisper yelled, looking at Grim turning in the sofa, far away in his dreamland.

It wasn’t unusual for the kind headmaster to show up with such… Theatrics, but this was certainly a new and unwelcomed entrance.

“I apologise for the sudden intrusion, but there’s has been an incident!” He exclaimed, and you shushed him, leading him to whisper his next sentence. “You see, the ball of Royal Sword Academy and Night Raven College is near its due date…”

Indeed, the ball featuring both of the most prestigious schools in Twisted Wonderland was drawing near; it started as a friendly way to make their students socialize, soon turning into a way to exhibit who had the most graceful gentleman.

“Yeah, and? I thought everything was fine, Che’nya told me this morning that the arrangements were almost done."

“Me and the Royal Sword Academy headmaster have gotten some complaints indicating that we should not allow you or Grim assist to the ball due to your dorm not being an official part of the school." Ah, so that was the reason of the nervous tone. “I would refuse, but the grievances come from certain parents with high status and—"

You interrupted. “Don’t worry Crowley, it’s understandable that you don’t want to make such powerful enemies. Grim on the other hand…” You spared a glance at the sleeping being, already imagining what kind of reaction he would have.

“I appreciate your understanding, yet that’s not what I wanted to discuss."

“Huh?”

“Some of your friends know about this, and I’m afraid they’re… How can I say this…? A little erratic."

You sighed, knowing exactly what the meant by that. “Are you scared of them?”

“Me? Of course not! I’m the headmage! But it would be helpful if you intervened."

“They can’t be that bad, I’ll go talk to them."

Oh, it can be that bad. Not overblot case bad, but it’s much more chaotic than you thought it would be.

You walked towards the dining hall, place where all of them got the news. You felt bad for the other students who had to run away because of the outburst.

Once you enter the hall, there was only a way you can describe the situation: encasing every reaction in a specific group.

First, we have the erratic behaviour, as Crowley mentioned earlier: students who are enraged because you cannot go to the ball. Here we have Ace, Deuce, Riddle, Leona, Floyd, Vil, Epel, Malleus and Sebek. Some are just snappy, such as Leona or Vil, and Riddle is trying to not let the anger overcome him. The rest are tagged as official menaces.

The second is the quiet group, the scariest of them all. Even if you tried, you can’t fathom what their expressions are hiding, exuding an eerie aura that has everyone shivering. The most students of this group are Azul, Jade, Rook, Idia and Lilia, the most dangerous combination to ever exist.

The last but not least group is the one that has every sane person, and the ones that are near sanity. They are so busy trying to control the furious trope that they don’t realise why they’re mad in the first place. Trey, Cater, Ruggie, Jack, Kalim, Jamil, Ortho and Silver are the ones in this category.

You yelled as loud as you could in order to gain their attention, everyone’s head turning when recognising the familiar voice.

“What’s going on here!?”

“MC/Prefect!” They jolted, abruptly stopping dead in their tracks.

“I thought Crowley was exaggerating when he told me that you were, and I quote, erratic, but this is absurd!” You whined in annoyance, not believing the scene in front of you, much less believing the reason behind it.

“Ah, well, this was just, uh…” Ace was trying to find the correct words to not make you angrier, eyes evading yours as you send him a cold glare.

“We were practicing for, uh…!” Deuce’s desperation showed up in order to think of an excuse, and you had enough of it.

“Do you think I’m dumb?” The bitter words came out as venom, not only being directed at the young boy but at everyone, seeing how you shared your discontent look with all of them. “Is this because of the ball?”

There was a brief silence before it was cut off again by Malleus.

“Child of Man, I think that this decision is an act of unfairness towards you," his comment made way to other ones, clearly displeased with the agreement.

“You have done so much for this school!” Kalim blurted out.

“It’s an improper choice after all the effort you’ve put, since this event is for congratulating students for their excelling performances," Jade remarked, slight annoyance in his voice.

Soon, the hall was filled with different arguments, and yet again, you had to yell.

“Guys, I know that it may be unfair, but I’m okay with it; you all could get expelled for doing this!” More than anger, your voice was full of concern, worried because of their impulsive actions.

“Shrimpy, aren’t you upset?” Floyd tilted his head, not comprehending why you weren’t showing any strong emotion at the news.

“Certainly Mademoiselle, you must feel at least the slightest bit offended, don’t you?” Rook asked, also tilting his head.

“What I think about it doesn’t matter, the decision it’s made and there’s nothing else to do other than accept it, and you must do the same," you sighed, all the stress leaving your body with that long exhale. “You shouldn’t make a fuss over this; there will be other events I can participate to."

“And what if there aren’t any ‘other events’?” The abrupt question coming from Leona made you think, and after some seconds you chuckled.

“If that’s the case then I guess I can always make my own," your quick response had everyone gasp in cuteness, some were more dramatic than others cough Cater cough, but the gasp was there.

“My, is this an angel speaking to us?” Lilia said, his teasing tone having you think it was a joke, which it wasn’t.

“Less talk, more work." And with that note, the students were forced to start their cleaning duties, not really minding it since you were there.

While you were picking up some broken pieces of wood, an idea came to your mind, making you do a soft smile as you thought about the outcome.

ONE WEEK LATER

The ball day was here, and everyone was shining in their own lights, their tuxedos matching their distinctive colours as they added some characteristic details to it.

The week after the incident, everything was pretty chill; they reluctantly agreed to leave the topic alone to please you, switching it to their fashion choices or practicing some basic dance moves.

You were greatly surprised when seeing them all before the event, cheering them up as you told them that they looked handsome, making some of the boy’s blush. “I hope you enjoy the ball!”

You bid them goodbye, making sure everyone was out of sight so you could return to Ramshackle, home to the angry creature named Grim.

“How can they not invite the great Grim to their boring party!? That’s unacceptable!” You laughed at his antics, caressing his fur to soothe his ire.

“Should I remind you that I was also excluded?” He let out a cute groan, curling into your lap to comfort himself.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever ya’ say henchman. By the way, why’re ya’ using that dress?” He lazily signalled the simple gown you were wearing, closing his eyes when you reached an icky spot.

“I don’t know, I saw it at Sam’s and decided to buy it, does it look bad?”

“I didn’t say that. It’s just weird you’re using it now…”

Both you and Grim decided to get out of Ramshackle, sitting on the shore of the pond that was near the old building, the quiet and magical atmosphere worth the outing.

Grim’s soft snores were heard in the solitude of the forest, some fireflies appearing to make the scene look like it came straight out of a painting.

“Am I upset?” You asked yourself, quoting the words from last week.

Truthfully, you did care about not being invited to the ball. Your excitement vanished the moment the headmaster started explaining why you couldn’t assist.

You started to wonder if that meant that your efforts were going to be unappreciated, until you remembered that they weren't. The friends you made here made you feel at home, even though most of them were sceptical about befriending you at first, oblivious to the fact that they started to look at you with heart eyes.

You started to sing a lullaby you constantly heard during your childhood, a calm harmony that brought you peace in moments like this, when you were about to cry out of confusion and sadness.

Your voice acted as anaesthesia for the little Grim, humming contently as you gently stood up, holding him like a baby as you started to dance around.

Unbeknown to you, a wandering fairy heard the enchanting lyric; her pointy ears perked up in curiosity as she approached slowly, her small form making it impossible for you to take notice of, too focused in your dancing solo.

The small, fantastic individual started to hum along. Deeming you as a friend, and not a threat, she closed the distance between you both, a giggle leaving her mouth as she sat on your shoulder, surprised when you didn’t saw her.

She stayed silent, lightly grasping the soft material of your dress so she wouldn’t fall, hearing in joy as you continued your lively tune.

Your steps were feather like, slowly spinning while leaving the forest, now strolling through the dark corridors of the academy. It may seem a little eerie seeing it as an outsider, but everything you could think of was the enchanting lyrics, the absence of light not resembling an issue as you resume the melodious piece.

It was a matter of time when you got to the giant ballroom, passing through an open door as you heard a lively composition that matched yours, smiling wider until you collided with someone.

You woke up from your trance, your previously calm state being replaced by worry as you bow to the person in front of you.

“I’m so sorry, it wasn’t my intention to…” You spared a quick glance at the boy’s face, mouth agape when realising who it was, the little fairy hiding as soon as she saw the unknown person. “Neige?”

“Ah! MC, I was looking for you!” Said the young boy, cheeks dusted of a light pink. “I was afraid you didn’t appear, but I’m so happy I found you!”

That woke up Grim, aside from all the chit chatter of the room.

“Nyah!? Henchman, where are we!?” He jumped off your arms, falling nose-first on the marble floor.

“I may have brought us while dancing…” You confessed, ashamed of not noting it sooner. “I’m sorry Neige, but we and Grim have to go before Crowley spots us."

“Not so fast! I want to check the food! With that amount I’m sure they won’t notice one or two dishes missing…” His mischievous smile threw you off guard, sighing at his intentions.

“Grim, come on, we can’t…”

“It would be a pleasure! The banquet is right there!” Said the naive boy, signalling a large table with lots of different dishes.

In less than a second, Grim was already there, filling his mouth with everything his little paws could hold on to.

“Grim!” The frustration was there, but you couldn’t show it, not wanting to make a scene, but you were certain that some students were already glancing your way.

The kind-hearted boy looked at you with pure adoration, trying his best to hide it as he took your hand in his; all while the little fairy, still hidden, tried to think about what she could do to help you.

NEIGE LEBLANCHE

The gown was sky blue, white grading in the top and sleeves with some yellow sparks. Your hair was now short, curled at the ends and portraying a red lace on the top, a cute bow placed on it.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you… Would you like to dance with me?”

“I guess I can, I’m already here, aren’t I?”

Dear, you just made Neige the happiest man alive. The dwarfs were in their way to talk with him, but when they noticed the huge smile that he portrayed, decided to keep their distance so you could have your perfect moment.

That was interrupted when he stopped, pointing at your dress that had changed abruptly. You were surprised, obviously, but there wasn’t a major reaction from you, since you’re in a world of magic after all. Him on the other hand was completely flustered, trying to think of a compliment as he kept dancing.

He’s a good dancer, but his steps resemble those of a child dancing, in a good way obviously, it’s pretty fun and refreshing to waltz with him.

Laughing time was over when a shout was heard, coming from a certain red hair.

“Prefect!?” Yelled the first years, their loud scream attracting even more attention. You just hoped Crowley didn’t hear it; oh, well, he didn’t. But the others surely did.

And now you’re scared because Vil had a questioning look in his face. If he did saw the dance, may the Sevens let you rest in peace.

“Ah, hey guys!” You backed away from Neige, who in response pouted, sad at the loss of contact.

“What are you doing here!?” They asked, a combination of confusion and excitement washing over them.

“I don’t know, I was enjoying my solitude, dancing alone and when I looked up, I was here, dressed like this," you slightly lifted the dress for emphasis, frowning when everyone shut up. “Uh, guys—?”

“Please dance with me!” Most of them screamed at once, having to cover your ears because it was so sudden and very much not appreciated.

And just like a week ago, that led to everyone argue about who should dance with you.

You were about to stop them again, but someone took advantage of the situation, bringing his hands to your waist.

CHE’NYA

The gown was of a light lilac, along with some stripes that were just a few shades apart, white sleeves added to the palette. Your hair was still short, but it changed the style to a light messy pixie cut with some mauve highlights.

“Isn’t this such an entertaining scenario, nya~?”

“I think is more of a dangerous scenario, incredible to think they’re fighting over such a stupid thing.”

Oh, MC, is that what you think of yourself? This is not a stupid thing, dancing with you is enough to make the most ferocious man drop on their knees, mesmerized by your beauty.

And he certainly would do that just by seeing you with a dress matching his attire. While you don’t know why or how this is happening, he’s grinning widely because you look so beautiful, the slightest shade of pink covering his cheeks as he throws some funny comments, lighting up the mood.

Dancing with him is amusing, to say the least, sometimes disappearing his body, leaving you to dance with a floating head.

Ace, the moment breaker, does his thing once again, his loud shrieks rivalling those of Sebek.

“Ah, she’s dancing with the disappearing guy!” They all turned their heads, most of them having a vein about to pop up from the anger.

“It seems that I’m not welcomed, but at least we will be together the next week, goodbye~!” And with that, he disappeared, again.

Remember that scene when Rapunzel was calming Maximus down? That was the exact thing you had to do with the most enraged students, thanking the unwanted dress for acting as a distractor.

“If you care that much about dancing with me, I can dance with all of you, only if you promise that you would not cause more mess; I’m already walking on a thin line just by being here."

Silence. You tapped your foot impatiently at that.

“Promise that you would not cause more mess," it was more of a demand than a request, but it worked when they all repeated your words, humming in approval.

“Great, so who’s the first?”

Quickly realising your mistake, you spoke again before everything reverted to a few minutes ago. “Wait, maybe it would be better to do this by dorm order. Which means that Heartslabyul will go first."

It was then when the troublemakers of said dorm started to dispute over who should dance with you first; Ace proclaimed that he should because he met you first, and Deuce responded by exposing his terrible behaviour towards you the first time you met.

Tired of this, you grabbed Ace’s hand, being the first pick because, well, both Ace and Deuce were right.

ACE TRAPPOLA

The gown was of a cheerful ruby colour, the sleeves were wine and since it was Heartslabyul inspired, had a chess design along with some hearts in the skirt. Your hair was tied in a loose braid, a heart shaped accessory placed in the side.

“Are you that excited to dance with me, Prefect?”

“Deuce was right, you were the first nuisance I met, I thought it was obvious.”

He groaned in embarrassment, recalling the awful treatment he had with you, wishing it would have gone somewhat different.

When he was about to change the subject when your dress changed yet again. You said that that probably was going to happen all night, and that he shouldn’t pay attention to this Barbie style transition.

He definitely doesn’t know what is a Barbie, but he refuses to not pay attention to the dress, teasing you about it, trying to make you blush. That’s where the tables turned and you teased him, making him blush. Great, you broke Ace.

He dances in a messy manner, but he can be serious when he wants to, so I would say it’s a 50/50 final rating.

Sighing at this, you decided it was time to change partners, leaving his hands so you could grab Deuce’s ones. Expect him to be more annoying, maybe even sending Deuce some threatening glares.

DEUCE SPADE

The gown was navy blue, in its majority, a few hints of cerulean peeking up the skirt, the same chess design with some deuces in the corset. Your hair had a bun, it was loose but it didn’t look messy, just a few strands of hair that were out, along with a deuce hairpin.

“You… You look beautiful, Prefect."

“Thank you Deuce, you also look handsome, but… Your face is very red."

It’s because he wasn’t prepared for this. Did his mother tell him what to do when dancing with a girl whose dress magically changes every time she changes partners? No, he’s sure she’s not.

As a fun fact, Deuce’s mother sensed something was going on with her son; when Deuce told her what happened, words couldn’t describe how happy she got.

When he does notice the dress, he stays still, not moving for a few seconds until you bring him back to earth, worried about his sudden redness. MC, please, you’re going to kill the poor boy.

His mother tried to teach him how to dance a few times, so he isn’t that inexperienced as one would think, but the problem is that he’s dancing with you, and that makes things complicated.

He doesn’t know if he should feel relieved or sad when you move to continue dancing with Cater. Maybe both, but it’s not like he can’t say something, he still respects his upperclassman even though he wanted to keep dancing with you.

CATER DIAMOND

The gown was of a bright tangerine, a soft shade of red covering the sleeves. A pattern of diamonds was outlined in the corset, subtly placed on it so it wasn’t too flashy. Your hair resembled his, the top part tied back into a ponytail and the rest hanged straight, curling at the ends.

“If I posted this on Magicam, a lot of people will get super jealous of you!”

“As if, I’m pretty average, I don’t know why someone will get jealous of me."

Your kindness, tolerance, intelligence, looks, should he keep going? There’s a ton of reasons people will envy you, and he means that as a good thing, really; in his eyes you’re the most stunning person to ever exist.

And apparently you can change clothes magically, we can add that to the list as well.

His dancing is playful, but he’s fairly skilled, talking about random things while he swiftly moves one feet after the other.

He resists the impulse of taking his phone out and taking selfies non-stop, not wanting to disturb you or weird you out in such a moment, when in reality you’re pretty chill about it. If only he knew about it, he would have had thousands of pictures of you and your dazzling self.

He only does it when it’s time to swap, posing with you as he takes a quick snap, posting it with the hashtags: #ballroomprincess #howjusthow #thebeautyandthebeauty, and so on.

TREY CLOVER

The gown was pine, the dark shade of green matching with Trey’s. It seemed to be more nature-like, clovers all around it. Your hair was asymmetrical, and it barely touched your shoulders, looking a little spiky, yet it still looked stylish.

“I thought you weren’t allowed to come here. Did Grim drag you, perhaps?"

“It’s a long story, but Grim’s the one that made me stay; by the end of the night there will probably be no food left to eat though."

Which is a shame because he prepared a few desserts, Che’nya suggestion, and he wanted you to try some of them specially to see your sparkling eyes as you took bite after bite. Oh well, it would have to wait until Heartslabyul’s next tea party.

But it seems he’s gotten a new sight, you in a dress that magically changed and it’s now matching with him. He doesn’t ask about it, letting himself enjoy this brief moment with you.

He’s a good dancer, and his tall figure makes him look elegant while he waltzes with you, the atmosphere breaking when you switch to a huffing Riddle.

He sighs, leaving your hand so it would take his dorm leader’s. He starts to wonder how he can pass more time with you, maybe a baking date session would make you accept.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

The gown is scarlet and white, hints of black but mostly to softly outline the roses and the hearts placed on it, looking fairly fancier than the other ones, like his dorm uniform. Your hair was in a bun, velvety like for the little crown that was on top to stay still.

“I… I’m surprised to see you here, Prefect."

“I was surprised as well, but you get accustomed to it… Ah, Riddle, are you alright?”

He can’t control the blush that creeps up his face. He nods, wanting to look at you in the eyes, yet he can’t help but feeling flustered when you tilt your head in confusion, trying to make eye contact.

Sevens, his mother would be so disappointed at this, what would she say if she found her son wasn’t following proper ball manners? And then he remembers that his mother isn’t there, only you, knowing that you didn’t really care about those in the first place, and he doesn’t know if he should feel relieved or frustrated.

When he sees the dress, he stops dancing for a few moments before continuing, finding the explanation weirder than the dress itself. But he has a limited amount of time and he prefers spending it dancing than trying to find the reasoning of this; even he’s surprised by this thought too.

As said before, his mother taught him how to waltz, so he has experience doing it. Now when it comes to the part of actually dancing… He needs to polish it a little, but the knowledge is there.

Speaking of which, he knows it’s over when you have to shift partners, Leona being the next one. His snarky grin he sends at him is almost enough for him to explode, Trey noticing this and immediately trying to calm him down. Perhaps he can include some ball elements to some of his tea parties, definitely not to spend those with you, no no yes.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

The gown is of a sand colour, golden details all over it to make it look like it was a royal dress; a satin, brown scarf placed elegantly on your arms. A braided chignon hairstyle made it easier to carry a golden tiara on it.

“You really like being in trouble, huh? I didn’t think you would sneak here, herbivore."

“I like to think that since I come here, I’ve became a Jack in the Box full of surprises, don’t you agree?”

Sure you are, not only you sneaked in here, but you also sneaked your way into your heart. He’s not stupid, and he won’t say you are, but what he can say it’s that you are pretty dense. Well, in your defence, you do know he treats women differently, so how are you supposed to guess the fondness he shows at you?

This is one of the few, rare moments where you get to see a shocked Leona, his eyes widening at remodelling of your dress, tail swinging in glee. You really are a box full of surprises, aren’t you? He doesn’t know what he should say, choosing to stay quiet, enjoying the calmness that you made him feel.

He would never say out loud though. At least, not now.

He has a royal background, so it makes sense that he knows at least the slightest bit of dancing manners, and he shows that while waltzing with you.

The moment doesn’t last long as you start to back up from him in a strange manner, and his eyes soon found out the reason why. He growls at this, that hyena is going to pay it off for the next days. Either way, he would have done it even if he didn’t intervene.

RUGGIE BUCCHI

The gown is of a dark fawn, blonde highlights in the neckline. Compared to Leona’s, this was more wild-like, giving a light, rustic impression. Your hair had a back Dutch braid, the mid-length complementing the whole look.

“Hey, Prefect, didn’t expect to see you here. And to imagine that everyone made a fuss 'bout this, shi shi shi~”

“Yeah, I think everybody thinks the same here. There wasn’t really need for you to use your unique magic, I think Leona got mad at it."

Effectively, he got mad at it and because he stole you. Fair enough, he thinks he can endure a few days of Leona’s working, that meant he got to see you more than him since he would be running his errands.

When he saw the dress, oh boy, man was trying so hard to not blush. The only way to prevent that was by teasing you; just make sure to don’t tease him back, he doesn’t think he can’t handle it.

He knows how to dance, so he’s pretty fluent when waltzing with you, making some accidental mistakes so you would step closer to him. That backfires when you cheekily laugh, and the blush he tried to contain creeped up his face.

Just when he thought you were going to see it, you released him, and he was left holding nothing as you giggled at this reaction, now dancing with his underclassman. He frowned but didn’t want to make you mad by using the same tactic, so he let it be.

JACK HOWL

The gown was pearl, similar to the one you were using earlier except that this one was fancier. The skirt had some light golden designs, a few hints of black on it to contrast. Your hair was tied in a classy ponytail, fluffy and shiny, much like his fur when he’s in his wolf form.

“You could get in trouble for being here, don’t you know that?”

“I’m sorry, do you want me to go?”

Short answer, no. Long answer, he’s very happy that you’re here, literally everyone can tell just by looking at his tail, wagging uncontrollably. If you try to say something about it, he will deny it, even though it’s still wagging.

He can’t dance that well, but he’s trying, and that’s what counts. Besides, it’s not that noticeable, maybe a few stomps on your feet but nothing too serious.

This dress causes him to leave a quiet gasp, mouth agape for a few seconds until his mind tells him that he should ask you why and what was that transformation. You respond sincerely, telling him that you don’t know and that he should just ignore it.

Like hell he’ll be ignoring this, it’s not something you can so easily ignore, but for the sake of his dignity, he will try. Keyword try, begging that you don’t start to ask questions about his state.

Apparently, you heard his pleads, muttering a little ‘goodbye’ as you now danced with Octavinelle’s sly, but nervous, octopus. He sighs, he didn’t mean it like this, but it was something that was meant to happen soon or later. More soon than later.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

The gown was of a greyish cloud colour, platinum adornments on it that make it look elegant, even though it seemed to approach more of a softer side. A waterfall braid embellishing the 'marine' style look.

“My, if it isn’t the Prefect. I’m greatly surprised to see you here, and I also see you’ve made some major changes in your attire."

“Those aren’t intentional. I swear I don’t know where they’re coming from, but they’re nice, I think."

Nice? That’s how you would describe them? Your sole being is enough for him to lose his businessman composure, and now you do this, this… How did you call it? Barbie transition? No, he wasn’t hearing the conversation you had with Ace, what are you implying?

He’s already having a hard time to not let his façade break down, afraid that you may not like him if he showed any weakness, and that’s when he saw the dress, now matching his outfit. Although he still is smiling, what gives him away is the huge blush and his subtle coughing, trying to convince himself that he can still talk to you normally, like every other day.

Until he remembers that you don’t usually talk while waltzing, and that is enough for him to sigh in relief, now focusing in not stepping over your feet because of his nervousness.

He knows how to dance, it’s just because of the nerves and the feeling of your curious eyes staring up at him.

A tall figure places himself next to him, and he doesn’t need to look up to know who is, slightly refusing to let you go. Yet he knows that it would not end well for him; the mischievous eel would definitely use this as teasing material. He figures he can make a dance night in the Lounge, only you and him.

JADE LEECH

The gown was teal, and it seemed to be made of a shiny material, some purple laces tied on it as it had a tight and long bow on the left side. You portrayed a half up left side braid, clearly resembling his long streak of dark-grey hair framing his left side.

“You look marvellous tonight, Prefect; may it be because of your presence or your magical dress?”

“Very funny. Obviously, it’s the dress. The one that I didn’t know had magical properties when I bought it, but thanks for noting my presence."

Wrong. The dress certainly was a boost to your natural charming nature, but saying that was the only cause of your fascinating self would be an understatement, after all, the main thing Jade and Floyd finds fascination in is how interesting is the person in question, and for him to have romantic feelings for you? With that you can already imagine what he thinks of you.

He waits for the moment your dress changes, and when it does he leaves an amused chuckle. But surprisingly enough, he doesn’t say anything about it, rather enjoying your reactions at it and your comforting company.

He excels at dancing, even making it more difficult for you to keep the pace, and yet again an entertained noise leaves his mouth. He slows down a little, not wanting to exhaust you, as your next partner would be his energetic twin.

Speaking of the devil, he can’t wait for much longer, whining to you both that he wants to dance with you. He leaves no room for complaints, and so you are separated from Jade, who finds this situation more than lively. If Azul ever decides to tell him about his idea of the dance night in the Lounge, he would be more than delighted to share some of his suggestions.

FLOYD LEECH

This gown was the twin of Jade's, also teal and shiny, the purple bow now sided on the right, now messier and easy looking. Your hair is, again, in a half up right-side braid. Similar to the concept of the dark-grey streak of hair on his right side.

“Shrimpy~! Why didn’t you tell me that you were here? We could have passed more time together~!”

“Sorry Floyd, my mind was a bit of a mess before I got here. But I’m here now, doesn’t that make you happy?”

He lets out a cute: "yay~!" And you are wondering how someone can be so adorable and so frightening at the same time, as his pout quickly disappeared after your kind-hearted question.

He has the same train thought that his brother, and waits for your dress to change. He’s a little disappointed when he sees it at first, I mean, doesn’t it look the same? Until he notices those small details that allure to his right side highlight, and his smile widens so much you can even see his back teeth.

His Shrimpy surely knows how to make him happy! How is he supposed to stop smiling so widely when you can become more interesting by the second? Be warned, this man wouldn’t let you in peace after this, but that applies to almost everything that you do, because for him everything you do can be interesting. Even if they’re not, he would make them interesting just by joining you.

His dancing is… Different. It’s not ballroom dance, that’s for sure, but why should he follow such boring rules when he can have fun spinning you? And you agree to some level, but your stomach doesn’t.

He pouts when you try to change, expressively refusing to let you go. He only agrees to when you say you would pass more time with him after, most likely hovering over you the rest of the night. A true Octavinelle student.

KALIM AL ASIM

The gown was of a really light and shiny yellow, almost looking like it was made of gold, softly transitioning to a silver white in the sleeves and neckline. Your hair had a braided crown, a turban like his slightly covering it.

“I’m glad you’re here Prefect! I was going to throw a ball for you since I thought you would miss this one!”

“There’s no need for that Kalim, but I appreciate the gesture. You’re very sweet."

You think he’s sweet?

Now nothing is stopping him now from actually throwing a ball in your honour. He usually doesn’t think much when it comes to give you gifts and hosting parties for you, no selfish intention behind it, but if this makes you say that he’s sweet again? He doesn’t have any second thoughts about it, much to Jamil’s annoyance.

When he sees the dress he exclaims a loud ‘wow’, like really loud, he even stops dancing for a couple of seconds because of the initial shock. He didn’t know you could do this, MC, this is awesome! Oh, you didn’t do it? It doesn’t matter, it’s still awesome and nothing can change his mind.

He knows how to dance, and surprisingly, he takes it seriously. His steps are firm, contrasting with his saccharine smile.

He sees Jamil aside, a slight frown as he keeps his gaze locked on the floor, and he decides it’s time to change partners, making you do a twirl and practically throwing you at Jamil’s arm, giving him a thumbs up. He can dance with you later when you come to Scarabia, and by later is tomorrow! He’s just too excited!

JAMIL VIPER

The gown was black, little touches of a flaming red on it, mostly placed on the sleeves to emphasize a fire-like emblem, a golden snake tracing your waist gracefully. A braided bun with a large lock of hair standing on the side of your face, similar to his.

“Aren’t you tired? I’m sure all this dancing is exhausting for you."

“I’m fine, this is better than watching soap operas alone while Grim sleeps. His snores are so loud I can’t enjoy the drama."

Watching what? We all know Jamil isn’t much of a trendy and he doesn’t follow the latest entertainment, so he’s confused when you explain this to him. That doesn’t mean he isn’t intrigued, maybe if he wasn’t so busy he could watch this soap operas with you, only if you want to though; his worst nightmare is making you uncomfortable.

The transition has him even more confused, and he hopes he had his hoodie right now to hide his face in it, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of you because of that stupid cute blush. He asks about it, and he sighs when you told him the story we already know, already expecting something like this, it’s you who we’re talking about after all.

He’s an A+ dancer, and the great thing about dancing with him is that he understands you can’t follow his moves and accustoms to your moves, making you feel at ease and welcomed.

When he spins you, Pomefiore’s house warden takes your hand in his, now taking the position as your current partner. He leaves a bothered noise, awkwardly staring at you and the Magicam star.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

The gown was black, a violet robe placed on it in a similar fashion like Vil's, the most outstanding feature being its length. Your hair had a side French braid up-do, a tilted golden tiara on it.

“It seems that you’ve finally taken my fashion suggestion, potato."

“The answer may disappoint you, Vil, but this is not my doing. Although it’s fancy, it can’t rival yours."

He can’t agree with that; sure, he’s dressed elegantly and his makeup is perfectly done, but that doesn’t mean you’re inferior than him. You’re one of the few people that don’t have the title of potato in his head, even though he has it like a nickname for you, but he sees it as an endearing term and he low-key hopes you see it as well. He never really understood the concept of inner beauty before meeting you, now getting its meaning.

Vil’s a professional actor, so he only shows the slightest hint of surprise when your dress changes. His blush isn’t a noticeable one, and even if it was, he could have just said that it was a new product, knowing you would believe him. He finds your naïve nature confusing; Neige is naïve, and that bothers him, because he’s Neige, but when it comes to you is just… Endearing.

You’ve practiced with him quite a few times, using it as an excuse to see you since he was pretty busy with the clothing arrangement the week prior to the ball, not really expecting to actually dance with you.

You spot the astute hunter behind him; deciding it was time to change, he reluctantly released you, his face betraying as he scoffed at this, softly enough so you wouldn’t hear it.

ROOK HUNT

The gown was of an iris purple, a short, red cape hovering over your shoulders, looking a lot like a hunter's cape, a black neckline completing the Pomefiore’s colour palette. Your hair was wavy, bob styled, matching with Rook's.

“Quelle beauté! Your beauty is nothing I can ever compare, for it is so endearing that my heart flutters at this magnifique sight!”

“Wow, I… I don’t know what to say— Thank you, Rook. That’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve said to me, and I encounter you every single day."

You really think so? Then you should listen to his poetry; dozens of poems dedicated solely to you placed neatly in his drawer, ready for you to read them, or, even better, he can read them to you! He recites them every time he thinks about you, so he knows them by heart.

He’s great at acting, but why should he act when he’s genuinely happy of having you this close? He doesn’t see the appeal in it, he wants you to see how much appreciation he has for you, continuing to spill carefully planned comments, even forgetting about the fact that your dress has just magically transformed. The hovering attention has you stuttering, and he leaves a content sigh at your reaction, basking in your cuteness.

He’s the vice dorm leader of Pomefiore, he knows how to dance, and his gracefulness is something you did expect from him, so there’s no surprises in this part.

He doesn’t put a fight when you have to switch to your next partner, only making a dramatic sight and saying something corny like: "may fate reunite us again." Rook, you’re going to see MC tomorrow, calm down.

EPEL FELMIER

The gown was lavender, an apple red cloak covering your bare shoulders, the interior being of a velvety black. Your hair was tied in a low, twisted ponytail, some golden apple hairpins on the side.

“Ya’ look very pretty… I mean, you look great, Prefect!”

“Thank you Epel, but you know that you don’t have to hide the accent when you’re with me, right?”

He forgets how thoughtful you are, how he doesn’t have to act like the perfect boy Vil wants him to be, and how you don’t think of him as weak just because of his feminine looks. He’s thankful for that— Correction, he’s thankful for you.

He maybe in Pomefiore, but he has no acting skills, backing off you for a few seconds because of the surprise, immediately recovering from it upon seeing your confused expression. He didn’t mean it as a bad reaction, he saw it before, but he still doesn’t know why or how you do this, only to receive the explanation that you aren’t the one changing your dress, jokingly telling him that if you could do that you wouldn’t be broke. Sad facts, MC, sad facts.

He’s an average dancer. He’s had so many, so many classes with Vil graved in his skull, but not on his body, so he constantly looks at his feet and even like that he makes some mistakes, but nothing you can’t correct.

It was hard to switch partners this time, only because Ignihyde’s gloomy dorm leader was hidden in the crowd. When you did spot him, you had to make your best try at making it as smooth as possible, waving Epel goodbye, who in return waved you as well, being too nervous to actually protest.

IDIA SHROUD

The gown was indigo, the dark colour combining both of Ignihyde's characteristic style, adding some sapphire elements so it would look a little more "futuristic". Your hair had a classic half up-do, the volume matching with Idia's flame hair.

“How did you—? Forget it, of course it’s something the main character would do."

“Aww, you think I’m the main character?”

And now his hair is combusting into pink flames. Good job MC.

He can’t believe he actually lived long enough to see you like this, and what’s worse better, you spotted him and wanted to dance with him. Is there some kind of manual for situations like this?

Maybe he should ask in a forum. Wait, is something he can actually ask? There’s a ton of questions and no answers, but those thoughts disappear when seeing you change of dress and hairstyle yet again.

His dancing skills are… Non-existing. This man doesn’t dance. You have to guide him in the entire waltz, and it’s difficult because he’s standing there, officially classifying as a rock.

You see his younger brother besides, and you can’t help but changing with him, wanting to have a bonding moment with the little boy. Idia froze in place, mind racing with thoughts of what could he have done to scare you— Oh, you’re dancing with Ortho, now he’s at ease.

ORTHO SHROUD

This one was a short dress, knee-length; it was lapis, layers of a translucent fabric covering the skirt, looking slightly lighter in colour. Your hair was simpler this time, a short and cute cut with a blue flame hair accessory.

“Hello MC! I’m happy you’re here, and thank you for dancing with my brother. He seems much livelier now!”

“Really? That’s nice to hear. Idia’s not the type to go to these events, so I’m happy if you both are happy!”

He knows about his brother’s crush on you, and honestly speaking, Idia’s the one that has a huge advantage against everyone else: He has a cute brother sorry Leech, you're cute too, but c'mon, he's Ortho who wants him to be happy. I’m sorry everyone, this is the truth.

This was actually pretty fun. His short height made it easier for you if you're tall, sorry, can't relate to dance with him, and although he’s a robot, he can dance fairly well, giggling when you spin him.

He stops and says that it’s time to switch, according to the data he’s recollected during the night, and because a dragon-fae is waiting just behind you.

MALLEUS DRACONIA

The gown was all black, the only other colour it had was a bright green, seen in the hem of the cape and the large lace that was tied in your waist. Your hair had a twisted royal bun, a dark crown over it with some black diamonds, outshining the hairstyle itself.

“You always manage to amuse me, Child of Man. May you join me in this dance?”

“Your old-fashioned talking amuses me too, Tsunotarou, so let me try… It would be a pleasure, noble gentleman."

The giggle that leaves your mouth after saying those words is music to his ears, holding you in such a fragile manner as if you were porcelain. When he does start waltzing, his eyes focus on yours and only yours; being with you like this makes him forget everything else, choosing to rather enjoy your presence and the warmth that it comes with it.

The dress does break his concentration, fixating his gaze on it for a few seconds before his eyes return to his initial position. It’s not that he doesn’t think you don’t look enchanting, you always do, but even if you wore a potato sack to the ball he would still think of you as his goddess. That’s how much he loves you.

He’s an exceptional dancer; he grew up in a royal environment after all, often practicing with his grandmother and Lilia, but he’s willing to slow down for you. And that’s when his mind wanders about dancing with you at night, the moonlight covering your smooth skin as you both dance till your feet hurt and— Where are you?

It seems he let himself out of guard and now you’re dancing with… His overseer. Did— Did Lilia just stole his Child of Man? DID LILIA JUST STOLE HIS CHILD OF MAN—?

He calms down, knowing that making a scene is considered rude, and so the only thing he can do is… Pout. So he’s now a sad and pouting dragon-fae.

LILIA VANROUGE

The gown was of an opaque magenta, the top being black with some leather belts tied on it. Your hairstyle was asymmetrical, mid-length with a resemblance to his own, some of it flipping upwards, looking like small horns.

“It’s endearing to see you here, dear. I was thinking of even bringing you with me~”

“Thank you for not doing it, I don’t think I can endure another flying session…”

That’s a shame, he loves when you cling onto him like your life depends on it, and it low-key does, but there’s nothing to worry about! He would never drop you or let you fall, not even him would joke like that.

He recognizes the type of magic that is causing this, and lo and behold he takes a glimpse at the hidden fairy behind you. He chuckles, not saying a thing to let the show continue, but he’s really intrigued by how you managed to get the attention of such a shy creature, soon remembering that of course it was attracted by you, everyone in this room could say the same.

He’s a good dancer, but he chooses to make it more fun by elevating you a few meters off the floor. You cling onto him, telling him to stop doing that as you slowly tried to reach the marble ground.

When it’s time to change, he spins you dramatically, and you fall right into the arms of the drowsy Diasomnia knight, who woke up at the sudden impact.

SILVER

The gown was white, some simple and silver patterns on it, maybe from a knight's armour. Your hair had a flower braid, specifically a rose, cascading down like a waterfall.

“Prefect…? Are you okay? You look a bit exhausted."

“I’m fine, Silver, sorry to wake you up this way, it wasn’t my intention."

He doesn’t mind if you are the one waking him up, and it’s not like this is the first time it has happened either; your clumsy friends always manage to make you fall, and conveniently for you, he’s there, be it catching you or cushioning your fall, but once again, he doesn’t mind.

If he’s being honest, he didn’t pay attention to the dress nor the hairstyle you were wearing at first, and how it magically transformed every time you changed partners, so this background leads him to make a baffled expression, mostly because he isn’t the greatest at showing emotions. He mutters some compliments, but the echoing walls don’t let you hear what he��s saying, much to his invisible frustration.

He’s a calm dancer, and it’s very much like dancing in a fairy forest, animals surrounding you as you continue to be invested in the harmonious waltz.

But that moment breaks when the last boy complains under his breath, probably because he was the only one that hadn’t had his dance with you, and with an apologetic smile, you go to him. He sighs, trying to stay awake, but failing at the end as his breathing regulates in his sleep.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

The gown was lime, some parts had a darker green and others had subtle white highlights. Your hair was now straight, twirling slightly at the ends, which touched your covered neck.

“I’ll give my all in this dance, human!”

“I know, Sebek. You always give your all in everything you do~”

Are you trying to use the same tactics you’ve used to seduce Lord Malleus? That won’t work, human! He’s not weak to your charming smile and lovely eyes, he must stay alert to guard his master from any threats!

Less to say that is a terrible lie; he’s head over heels for you, but can’t express it, not even when the transformation happens for the last time, the enchanting dress and enticing hairstyle had him in a state of shock for five to ten seconds, and when he snaps out of it he wants aka sort of demands to know what’s the meaning of this. He shuts up after hearing that you also don’t know, feeling bad for all the shouting.

He’s a vigorous dancer. His moves are more energetic compared to the others, but not enough that you grow tired of it.

Since Sebek was the last one you were supposed to dance with, you sigh in relief, maybe you can finally rest and maybe even enjoy the rest of the night-

“Prefect! What is the meaning of this?” Here it comes, the problem you wanted to evade.

"Crowley! Hello! I was just, uh…” You tried to think of an excuse that made sense, even if you knew that everything you said would be a futile attempt to get out of the situation.

“She was making sure everything went perfectly; she helped with the organisation, after all," Azul declared, him and the eels hiding your figure behind theirs.

“It’s our fault she’s here, we insisted she stayed," Riddle added, unconsciously joining the barricade, as well as the other Heartslabyul students.

“I appreciate the worrying, but I explicitly said that she nor Grim could take part in this ball."

“She helped with it, and for her to not be part of it was an act of unfairness," said Malleus, his cold glare sending shivers down the spine of the kind headmaster.

“I understand your position, Mister Draconia. But—“ You went out, standing in front of Crowley.

“Guys, it’s okay, I’ll take Grim and then we would return to Ramshackle." Before they could even start complaining, a different voice joined the conversation.

“My, what is this commotion?” The Royal Sword Academy headmaster: Ambrose the 63rd, asked. “Oh, you must be the prefect I’ve been hearing a lot about, it’s nice to meet you," he presented himself, and you did the same, somewhat intimidated of him.

“It’s nice to meet you too, sir. My name’s MC, and I know I shouldn’t be here, but I assure you I was about to leave—"

“Leave? Who said anything about that?” Your face shifted into a confused expression.

“I was told that some parents had a problem with me and Grim participating of this ball, so that’s why I thought that—"

His amused laugh shut you up, baffled at this action. “Yes, that’s correct, but it would be cruel to send you home after you made all the way here."

“Headmaster! The parents solicited—"

“I know, Crowley. But they’re not here, and this young lady has the right to enjoy the same things as their classmates. There shouldn’t be any problem since this is a private event."

“But I—"

“You heard that MC!? He said you can stay!” Kalim exclaimed, smile widening due to the excitement.

“It seems that's the case." You said, turning around to the man that helped you, bowing before him in gratefulness. “Thank you, Mr. Ambrose”.

“No worries, dear. Now if you let me, I have to talk some important things with your headmaster." Both of them walked away, Crowley’s shocked expression still placed on his face.

It seems that happy endings do exist in the real life, and if you’re wondering where did the little fairy go… Well, she changed your dress again to the initial gown you wore at first, except that it was more of her liking, with huge bows and puffy sleeves.

But the rest, as some say, it’s history.

THE END~

DON'T REPOST.

EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO, AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.

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pigeonpeach · 4 months

Text

Yandere Genshin

Prompt: youve caught their eye but… you’re already taken… that won’t be a problem…

Cw: yandere duh, mentions of murder and violence, manipulation, kidnapping, etc. fem reader

Characters: Jean, Diluc,Yelan, Neuvillete

Jean finds herself more and more infuriated with your commitment everyday. A simple hunter from Springvale is the one that catches your eye? How absurd! She knew she should’ve been more forward with her tatics. Oh this frustration and heartbreak has been tormenting her, impacting her work ethic as she tries to give you space. But its hard because you work for her. A cutesy little maid. You belong to her.. you’re everything she could want in a partner. So delicate, so plump, you’re the perfect bride. There’s no way she’s letting a man who can’t read s kid’s book without struggle surpass her!

So… she staged a little accident lets say.. she happened to cut the patrols in the area, making them closer to the city itself. That way there still was protection for the city… just not for the hunters. For awhile they’d been complaining sbout how the patrols spooked the boar. Even though those patrols were meant to cut down and discourage hilichurl camps. From a political perspective she just gave the hunters what they wanted. To up the anti more she had Kaeya tell him about a legendary boar deep into the wilderness. How the boars get bigger in hilichurl camps because they’ve started to fence them off and fatten them up, if he goes at night when they’re asleep, he could surely nail himself a big boar and pass it as a authentic catch…

The short of it was this. Your almost boyfriend snuck into one of the biggest hilichurl camps without the knights patroling nearby. And Kaeya knowing Jean’s work was negatively impacted by him.. may or may not have done something to alert the hilichurls to the the intruder. Quickly he was overwhelmed and beaten. With no knight in sight he was all alone. His struggle only made the hilichurls more violent. They threw him out, beaten to a pulp. When he saw Kaeya he was relieved thinking he was saved. But Kaeya had orders to finish the job of need be.

His death? A accident. Later hunters found him rotting near the camp, no foul play found. No one knew of his idea or who gave it to him, or who gave that person the idea. In your devastation you ended up right in her arms weeping.

“I am so sorry for your loss. I’ll make sure patrols return to normal and those camps are wiped out soon enough. I won’t let you experience such hardship ever again.” Crying to your boss felt so unprofessional but Jean was just so comforting to you. You had been putting on a brave face until now. You stood as she held you. “Lisa bought me this tea recently. It helps to steady my mind when I’m stressed, would you like me to give you some. I know it won’t remove your pain but it should help you somewhat. Unfortunately I can’t give you time off as two others are currently sick. But once they’re back I’ll give you some vacation okay?” She wiped your tears as you nodded.

“Th-that’s reasonable.. th-thank you.. oh god i must be such a burden. You’re already so stressed i didn’t mean to make it worse for you-“

“That’s not the case at all. I care about you. I want you to be safe and happy as every citizen in Mondstadt should be.” She kissed your forehead as she handed you the cup she prepared. “Here drink some tea. It was originally for me but I figure you need it more. I haven’t dranken from it.”

“Y-you’re sure that’s okay? I don’t mind waiting for another cup.” You asked. Oh how innocent you looked. Jean hated how she had to come to this, asking Lisa for a love spell to be put into the tea. But she couldn’t risk doing this to every suitor who got close to success. She needed to make sure you chose her otherwise she might go further next time.

“Its fine.” She said. You drank it with no further complaints.

Diluc was certain this was some sick prank. You, his beloved little maid, in love with nothing more than a simple merchant? Its not uncommon for the route from dawn winery to be used. But a certain merchant he purchased seeds from seemed to be getting far too close to you. Sure you two weren’t dating, he hadn’t even made the first step. But now he was absolutely was going to take drastic measures.

The first step: Distract you. You found yourself being assigned to chores more indoors an less outdoors. Diluc could sense how you would look out beyond hoping to see him again and he didn’t want that to continue. The second step was to lure said merchant back on a day you weren’t working. His arrival was horrible as the maids had all gone home leaving Diluc and Adelinde to recieve him, on a new moon, there was no moon to illuminate his path home so Diluc offered him to stay the night. He thought of this gratefully, originally the death Diluc planned was a simple killed in his sleep. But when he asked about you… oh it activated something in him. He even brought you a gift… how thoughtful… Diluc struggled to maintain his composure.

The merchant never did make it past the night. Despite his struggles. His body found beneath the bridge near Stone Gate. A investigation launched but ultimately blamed on bandits. With it his gift was smashed. You were devastated yes but your employer seemed to suddenly be more attentive than usual. He offered you meals and tea. Often requesting just to talk to you.

“Its getting late. I really should be going.” You set the tea cup back. “This was nice though. I wouldn’t mind doing this again but… oh.. is it raining?” You look out to see water coating the windows as what sounding like rain came from outside.

“Oh my it appears to be. At this hour you would be most vulnerable if you left now. You have no pets correct?”

“No.. oh dear…” you silently began to worry.

“You could always.. stay over. There is many a guest room and there’s spare pajamas for you. I’m certain it’ll be better than getting sick. Besides there’s bandits on the roads at these hours. You remember what happened to that merchant.” His voice luring you to s false sense of safety.

“Yes… I’ve been quite nervous going home now to be honest. Do you know if they ever found who did it?”

“Still nothing. Guards are posted more though. But it wpuld be easier. You do have a early shift here anyways in the morning so you wouldn’t need to go home right away. If that sounds alright.” He says, you jolted slightly as his hand gently grazed yours as you held your jacket. At that moment thunder clapped, startling you.

“I suppose that makes sene. I’ll take you up on that offer then..” you smiled shyly.

“I’ll lead you to your room then.”

He wasn’t going to let you leave.

(A/n: this is a alternative route to my other work Yelan vs Pantalone, dont consider this cannon to that piece but as its own spinoff)

Everyone has secrets. And Yelan’s is the fact that she stole a bride straight from Pantalone. It was mostly just to spite him, and also because she’s a sucker for a pretty face and couldn’t stand letting that happen. But oh they’re far more irresistible than she could’ve imagined. Now that they’re safely hidden in the jade chamber, working as a intern. She’s been visiting them when she comes to visit Ninguang, lucky her that Ninguang would allow her little damsel to stay in the jade chamber. But while her back was turned to her former life, she set her eyes on the people once known as parents to them. Her little Damsel cannot return to her former identity ever. And thus its better for her to believe that Pantalone went back on his word and killed them.

And that’s exactly what ended up happening. The Fatui’s search was halted and stopped because the Millieth wasn’t going to let the Fatui kill civilians just because they lost a bride. Even though they insisted they didn’t all signs pointed to that. She then forged documents to show to her beloved little damsel that this was the plan from the beginning, that Pantalone would have killed her parents upon acquiring her. Like the others so far, she used this opportunity to soothe them and bring them closer. At least this way they are alive and safe rather than in the hands of their families killer. Only… they are infact in the arms of their families killer. All seemed well until some stupid guard started poking around. He seemed more interested in courting them, believing they myst secretly be from s powerful family outside of Liyue and hiding. It was a rumor she purposely started to cover for their true identity. But now it backfired as this man saw a opportunity to climb up the social ladder. She isn’t quite sure what his exact plan was but her guess was he intended to make her fall for him and then marry him when she returned to her life, this guaranteeing a life of luxury. Unfortunately for him that won’t be the case. But Yelan can’t go killing her own. So she decided to simply use her influence to have him demoted to ground work instead. Convincing Ningguang that if allowed to stay he’ll uncover their scheme. The reason given to him was that apparently he was too loud or social than was acceptable in such environments. Afterwards he died to a hilichurl raid. Whoops.

“You.. you got my stuff?” You were surprised when she came to you with a crate.

“Yes, since legally you’re dead, your parents stuff was sold at auction at request of your family members. I grabbed what I remembered you valued myself.” She said with s smile as you beamed at the sight of your old things.

“It won’t raise suspicions will it?” Yu asked.

“I won’t let it. Don’t worry your pretty little head about the details.” She said patting you.

“I-i don’t know what I could do to repay you. You’ve done so much for me i-i truly have never had someone like you in my life.” You looked at her expecting a sort of humble brush off or something to actually be named.

“A date would be nice. Once everything cools down of course.” Her voice was like a purr, making you flustered.

“O-oh sure.. as long as it won’t cause you any trouble.”

“Perfect.” She said. You didn’t see it but she was considering drugging your tea that sat on the table behind her. A love potion, how typical but how effective. But seeing your blush she could tell you had infact fallen for her already. Which made the potion more of a backup if you ever lost feelings.

Neuvillete is anything but dishonest. But… seeing you cling to the arm of a guard, how happy you two looked.. it left him green with envy and red with wrath. To control himself he decided to simply change the guards routine to be out of your way. But you just went to meet them after work. His favorite little employee falling for the guard rather than him.. he felt deeply insulted.

Time for more drastic measures. He asks a favor from the clueless and happy Sedene (a simple melusine) to sneak into his house. To which she happens to find something. Just as planned he spends his time arranging scenarios to increase suspicion causing the other guards perform a check up right as he is planted with primordial sea water. He is quickly taken away to be questioned. Meanwhile you are distraught. You never thought him capable of such feats. But alas he was hardly the man you thought he was.

“I-I’m so sorry.. i truly didn’t know anything… i- Oh god ll this time..” you were hyperventilating as you were brought into questioning. “I-i.. oh god.. am i in danger? I could’ve ended up just like those missing girls..” Neuvillette’s hands reached out to your space as if to tell you to quiet down.

“I understand this situation is difficult. If necessary I’ll give you a moment to compose yourself. There isn’t any reason I have to suspect you but I still have to take precautions. You agreed to the random house search and no trace of seawater was found. I’m simply asking if he told you of anything suspicious or gave you any implications of his true nature.” He lowered his voice in a more gentle manner than he would in court. You sniffled as you wiped your tears.

“He.. he did keep inviting me to his place. I never went though. I didn’t think we were far along to do such things.. you know like… intimacy..” you nervously muttered. He still heard you, he was pleased to know you two didn’t get too serious.

“Were you two officially a couple?”

“No.. but we were close… i was going to ask him but then this all happened and… you know the story from there.”

“Hmm.. I see. It appears you infact were a target. Is there any reason you can think of?” He says. The sight of you so heartbroken and shaking is strangely attractive to him. So timid, so easily manipulated.

“No.. no not at all.. i don’t understand why?” You seemed more and more frightened. “S-should i not leave the house for a bit. This sounds very scary.. i don’t know if I can continue my routine as normal like this!” You whimpered as your hands seemed to get closer to your body. As if you retreating into she’ll to hide in.

“Fear not, I’ll have the secret patrol watch over. And each guard will undergo inspections from here onward. But i will be seeing you more. I want at least weekly updates to know of any strange activities or unexpected changes. Understand?” He said. You nodded. “With my life, I promise you, you will be safe. And I will let no harm come to you.. ever.”

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #diluc x you #jean gunnhildr x reader #diluc x y/n #wlw #yandere diluc #yandere jean x reader #yandere yelan #yandere neuvillette #neuvilette x reader #yelan x reader #yandere diluc x reader #yandere themes #mlw

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pupcuck · 6 months

Text

WASTE ME 2

ft. leon s. kennedy x gn!reader

tags. past rape/non-con referenced, unhealthy relationship, rape aftermath mentioned, blood mention, trauma, age gap, lots of victim blaming, creampie, pussy spanking

notes. hi :3 same warning as before this is just reader forming a trauma bond with their rapist but a onesided unrequited trauma bond 😭 leon is ooc so sorry ab that! probably vendetta leon but think ab any leon idk completely unedited bc i got lazy so ignore anything wrong I beg you. pov switches lots and leons character changes like 68 times

one / three

You must be sick in the head. Got more than a few screws loose. ‘Cause he just raped you. When you asked for his number, he assumed the worst, you’re gonna take it to the cops for sure. So he thinks of pulling out all the stops. Do you know who I am? I saved the president's kid back in ‘05, D.S.O agent, sweetheart, you’ve got nothing on me. Shitty move. Super villain type shit that is. He’s meant to be quite the opposite. Meant to be keeping civilians safe or whatever. You just looked good, alright? Bent over like a dog, like you were asking for it. Jesus. That sounds fucked. Jail worthy statement. This job has messed with his head.

Then you whip out your phone, give him a shaky smile, look at him like he’s a god or something. His gut churns. You’re not much of a looker; eyes sunken into your skull from a clear lack of sleep, hangnails for days, skin patchy. But he feels bad. The least he can do is take you out to dinner. Pay for your hospital bills in case he tore anything important. Doubt it. Leon’s not got that much going on down there. God, you look young. Real young. Can’t be more than twenty-five. Closer to twenty if he’s completely honest with himself.

“I like your jacket,” you say, scuffing your shoes on the ground. He pretends not to notice the droplet of blood on your otherwise white sneakers.

“Thanks,” Leon tries to stop himself from grimacing as he gives you a once over, “I like your…” There’s nothing. He doesn’t like a single bit of you. I like your ass, that’s why I stuck my dick in you by the way, pussy was pretty good too, had me acting like a total sleaze. He couldn’t say that. Or he could. He’s sure you’d take it well. Might even wag your tail a little. Get on your knees and suck his dick. What a fucked up kid. Glad he had enough sense to pull out.

You wait with bated breath, blinking at him with these big, sad eyes. The rope of silence burns.

“I like your eyes.” It’s a patent lie, but you don’t pick up on it. Instead you get shy and look down at the ground.

Leon passes your phone back, you pluck it out of his palm, careful not to touch him. Practised movements almost. He doesn’t question it. You ask for his name, he answers but doesn’t ask for yours in return.

“I’m sorry,” Leon tells you, it’s not enough, and it never will be. But he’d like to be absolved of this guilt. He already has enough. It sits heavy on his chest most days. Now he has to go and do this. A few drinks in and he starts thinking with his dick.

“No, it’s okay,” you brush him off, smile at him with all your teeth. The bottom set is crooked. “It was my first time, so thank you. I’ve been meaning to lose it.” Who even talks about sex like that? As if it’s paperwork you haven’t gotten around to.

Yeah. You’re gone. Thanking the man who raped you. Did he knock you around too much? Good work, Leon. Just ruined another life.

“I don’t think…” Leon trails off, shakes his head. “Call me.”

“Will you pick up?” You ask quietly, there’s nerves behind it, you must be used to fake numbers.

He wasn’t going to pick up. But he will now. “Yeah, I always pick up.” Good ol’ reliable Leon. Being falsely cordial even with his rape victim.

“Cool,” you smile once more, it reaches your eyes, makes them crinkle. “Well, I’ll see you soon?” Your tone lilts in question.

“Soon.” Leon nods affirmatively. You limp away and he swallows down the bile burning his throat.

To say you like Leon would be an understatement. You’d smash every mirror that doesn’t hold his reflection. Thinking about him is all you do these days. When you’re laying in bed, when you’re laying on the sofa, when you’ve got your hands down your pants. You don’t do much else anyway. So it’s exciting to have someone new to think about, someone to break up the mundanities of your stagnant life. He’s busy a lot. He might be lying, but you choose to believe him. You’re the only one lonely enough to bear his absence.

It takes all of your confidence to call him, the line rings thrice then goes to voicemail. He calls back late one night. You’re up watching some B-movie that’s classed as soft porn. “Hello, hi?” You suck with phone calls. Fucked up so many jobs ‘cause you failed to answer unknown numbers.

Silence, then the audio crackles when he sighs deeply. “Hey.”

“Leon, hi,” you wonder if he can hear the smile in your voice. “What’s up?”

“I missed your call.”

He’s missed a lot of calls, you don’t remind him. “That’s okay, I know you’re busy.”

“Yeah,” Leon says absentmindedly, “what did you want?”

You haven’t thought that far ahead. You just wanted to hear his voice. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Listen,” he starts, you assume the worst. He’s going to get a restraining order against you. “Can we get dinner one night? Get this over with.” It’s only just started and he wants to get rid of you so soon. Better than nothing.

“Yes,” you agree too quickly, “yeah, I’m free whenever.” Whenever means whenever. There’s not a single day you’re booked and busy. Never is.

He says Friday at six. You wait for it all week long. Pace around your room, mull over an acceptable outfit. There’s no such thing as formal wear in your wardrobe, haven’t even done the laundry in weeks. It’s piling up, gathering dust in multiple corners of the house. You shave your legs for the first time in months, get razor burn, clean your brows up to the best of your abilities.

Leon still makes a face when he sees you in the light. Your mug takes some getting used to. He’s dressed in what you saw him when he held you. That same leather jacket, the stiffness makes his shoulders appear bigger than they are.

When you smile, he smiles back crookedly. Shows his teeth to compensate for the fakeness of it. He’s real handsome. The type of handsome that makes you feel sick. That you feel you shouldn’t be in the presence of. Making you so anxious it’s giving you the shits. If you saw him in public, you’d duck behind someone taller, stick to the shadows, just in case he caught your eye and felt nauseous.

“Sorry I’m late,” you try to keep up with his pace as he strides along, the urge to cling onto his arm is there. He’d likely push you off, spit on you, call you gross. Not that you’d mind. Would be quite embarrassing though. So you hold back.

“It’s alright, I only got here a minute ago.” His disgust ebbs away. You think. ‘Cause he manages to glance over at you without keeling over.

“Was it good?” You take his wrist in your hand, dig your blunt nails into his skin.

“What?”

“When you… when it happened, when we had, like, sex, was it good?”

“Jesus, that wasn’t, that wasn’t sex,” Leon tips his head back, brows drawn together. His head is killing him.

You’re at a loss for words. Opening your mouth to speak and coming up with nothing. You’re hurt maybe. When you do talk, it’s pure fluff. Really shows your age. “It wasn’t? So what was it?” When he shrugs, you keep going, “I wanted to know if it was good ‘cause I knew this girl, like, in school, her name was Emma,” you pause to wave at a baby snuggled up in its stroller, “her mom was a hooker, and she said it was, like, genetically loose. Like her y’know, down there.”

“What?” He repeats, equally baffled as he was by you calling rape sex.

“Yeah, and my mom wasn’t a hooker or anything, but I was just wondering’ if it felt good? Like for you or was it loose?” You gaze up at him the way a beaten dog looks at its owner. Like you trust him with all of you. With your beating heart, with all the gristle and the tough parts, with your paper-doll body, like he wouldn’t tear you in half.

What’s he supposed to say now? It felt real good. Best pussy he’s had in years, the guilt just feels a lot worse. He sobered up after the initial rush. Started feeling bad too late. When he’d bloodied you up already. Left you walking funny, knees bent inwards in a crude attempt to hide the raw pain.

“Felt great,” Leon’s a people pleaser.

“Would you do it with me again, Leon?” You ask him shyly, worrying your bottom lip til it bleeds.

“Yeah.” Pussy is pussy. Even if it’s coming from someone ugly. Oh, he’s just being mean now. You’re cute. Well, cute in the way pugs are. People like to take care of things that are ugly, they feel bad for them, and decide to adopt pugs despite all their problems. He’s a sucker for pretty eyes though. And he’s started to like yours. There’s a deer-like quality to them. Maybe it’s that wide-eyed look of sheer terror you give him anytime he shrugs you off. Kind of addictive.

“Wait, really?” God, you’re shaking, shaking out of pure excitement as you loop your arm with his. “I’d like to see your face, but I really don’t mind. We could do it like that again, from behind.”

“Let’s not talk ‘bout that right now, okay, sweetheart?” Leon says it as tenderly as he can manage.

“Yeah, right, sorry, god.” You follow after him quietly.

Leon orders for you ‘cause you ask him too. You sit on your hands to warm them up, you pick at your skin, don’t really have many manners. Clear you don’t come out often. Not like he took you anywhere fancy.

You eat when Leon isn’t looking. When he’s focused on his own plate, when he’s busy chatting up the busty waitress. It’s strange. You’re strange. Like you don’t want anyone to see you doing anything normal. It’s like breathing is embarrassing for you. Then you open up your mouth and tell him some bullshit, and it’s all very confusing.

He doesn’t want to take you home. You’re not like anyone else, not a cutie he’s picked up from the bar, not someone he’s known for more than a while. But he raped you, so he owes you. Now you’ve got some trauma bond with him. Imprinted on Leon like a duckling. Couldn't you just take some government apology money and leave?

There’s not much to talk about, nothing he wants to find out, he has no interest in getting to know you. Leon asks if you have a job, you shake your head, tell him your parents love you enough to give you more than you need, but they don’t quite like you. That you go to college, but not often, that you don’t really have many goals, that you’re okay with dawdling through life. Nothing has ever worked out for you, and that’s why you’re glad you met him.

Leon has to stop himself from gagging. When he looks your way he’s repulsed. Not by you. Promise. He’s seen some shit. An ugly thing ain’t enough to scare him. Just remembers the blood caked on his cock, how he tucked it back into his pants and it dried up on the drive home.

He takes you to bed soon enough, saw your knee bouncing with excitement, and Leon’s never been particularly good at small talk. You smell nice at least. Tad too sweet for his liking, but that’s alright. Clearly, you’ve put a lot of effort into looking nice for him, and he can appreciate that.

The hair on the back of his neck prickles when your smaller hands find purchase on his waist. You’re shaking as he hovers over you, too close for comfort. Avoiding eye contact like anything. Shy little thing you are. Might as well make a meal of it this time, take in all of you. You ask him to keep the lights low, beg him at one point when he reaches over to turn the lamp on his nightstand on.

“Sweetheart, I can’t even see what I’m doing,” Leon mumbles, his fingers fumbling with the buttons on your shirt, “might slip it in the wrong hole if I’m not careful.” Gross. When did he start saying shit like that?

“Hah,” you laugh softly, airy and nervous, hands coming to rest on his firm chest instead, “I wouldn’t mind, Leon.”

“You would when your fuckin’ guts fall out,” he manages to pop them, a few buttons clatter to the wooden ground noisily, “colostomy bag ain’t no fun.”

“I didn’t think that far ahead.” You’re smiling at him for sure, when he dips his head down to give an open-mouthed kiss to your lips, he feels it. Runs his tongue over your teeth. “I still wouldn’t mind, Leon.”

What a freak. He smooths your hands down your sides, over your tapering waist until he feels your belt loops, jeans low on your hips. The zipper is already down, the button is stiff, but he manages to get them open, shuffling them down and tossing them on the floor.

When Leon goes to undo his belt, you grab his wrist. “Can you turn on the lamp actually? I changed my mind.” You say quietly, fingertips running over his knuckles. “I want to see you.” So he listens. Leon wants to see what you’re wearing underneath. If it’s anything special. It’s not. Plain black cotton. You must not have anything else he supposes. “It felt bigger than that last time.” You’re looking at his half-hard dick, sitting up on your elbows and scrutinising it real bad.

Ouch. Well, you’re the ugly bitch who hasn’t managed to get him to his full potential. Leon’s being mean now, needlessly mean, ‘cause you’re just a kid with a big mouth, and you don’t seem to know when to shut it. “Yeah, ‘cause I raped you,” he laughs dryly. Tastes bile again. Funny saying those words out loud it is. Makes you feel like a real asshole.

“But I liked it, Leon, so I don’t think it was.” By the way you flinch when he spreads you apart, Leon thinks it really was exactly that. Poor baby. Pussy all sore ‘cause he split you open.

“You liked it, hm?” Leon drops his forehead against yours, tries to gage your reaction to his words. “You like being raped?”

Eyelids fluttering shut. Breath hitching. All smiles and warm skin. Yeah, you loved it. You don’t have to tell him that, he can see it. “Yeah… I loved it, Leon.” His thumb slips past your petal lips, he doesn’t even have to ask you to suck. He pulls it out with a pop, brings it down to your cunt and presses the pad to your throbbing clit. “Mmm, ‘cause you wanted me so bad you didn’t even ask me…”

Just his thumb and your hips are lifting up off the bed, cunt drooling all over his sheets. He has to admit, he made a real mess of you that night, can see the way he broke you in. Left you all sloppy. Ruined your perfect pussy so no one else could ever use it. Leon only wants the mess ‘cause he made it himself.

“That’s right,” Leon nods his head, “‘cause you were stickin’ your ass in the air like a bitch. Can’t blame me can you, sweetheart?”

“No, ‘s all my fault,” your brows pinch together when he pulls back the hood of your clit, rubs figures eights into the twitching bud. You mewl, snapping your legs shut, he pries your thighs apart easily, splays a big hand over your tummy to keep you down.

“Weren’t me, was it?” He pinches your clit between his thumb and pointer finger, dips the middle into your drippy cunt to test the waters. “Did that all to yourself ‘cause you wanted some dick, ain’t that right, baby?”

You’re awful cute like this, tears making your eyes all glassy, teeth chattering with the nerves, nostrils flared. Dumb little pup. Wonder what you looked like back then, with your face in the concrete, did you cry this pretty?

“C’mon,” Leon urges, “tell me again, sweetheart.” It’s snug in your cunt, two fingers squished together nicely by your pulsing walls, hot and wet. Makes a sticky sound when he pushes them knuckle-deep.

“Oh god,” you whine, hips bucking up into his palm, clit mashing into the bump of his palm, “it was my fault.” There’s a shaky breath between each of your words, so worked up, heat coiling in your belly.

“Coulda got me in so much trouble,” Leon tuts, shakes his head and you lower your gaze. Squeeze your eyes shut to hide behind the lids. Don’t wanna be blamed for it. “Don’t even care, do you?” He’s quick to remove his fingers, readies his palm to give your cunt a firm spank instead, the pleasure making your entire body jolt. “Just thinkin’ with this stupid fuckin’ pussy.” He spanks you again, cunt makes a wet squelch with the impact. Shit. There’s practically a puddle beneath you, leaking slick down your thighs, all over his jeans. Soaking him to the bone. Like he’s been caught in a monsoon or some shit.

“I’m sorry,” you choke on a sob, let out an ugly sounding hiccup that makes him coo, tilts your chin upward to kiss the salty tears away. “Didn’t mean to do it, Leon.”

Leon clicks his tongue, spanks you once more for good luck. “I know you didn’t, sweetheart, you’re just a bit slow, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you agree tearfully, he can’t help but laugh.

“Oh, that’s alright,” he croons to you so sweetly, like he might be in love with you. He’s not. But this is fun. Most fun he’s had in a long time. “Useless little thing, not good for much, are you?”

“Mhm,” you nod at him, so stupid, empty fuckin’ head.

“That’s alright, you’re good for one thing, sweetheart.” Leon squeezes your thighs, watches the skin dimple, “know what it is?”

“I’m good for you.” You give him a dopey smile, makin’ goo-goo eyes at him. God. Not in a million years.

“Not for me,” he pulls you towards him by your ankles, legs dangling off the bed until you wrap them around his waist, hold him close to you. Leon stands at the edge of the bed, his jeans fall loose around his ankles, he kicks his boxers off. Just to make his life easier. “Just for dick, yeah? You’re real good at taking dick.”

“Only yours, Leon,” you’re so taken by him it’s sickening.

“Nah,” he palms himself, thumb digging into the weepy head, “I think you’ll take any dick you can, sweetheart.” Your ears perk up at the schlick, schlick, schlick as he readies himself, droplets of pre running down his fist.

“I like you so much, Leon,” you’re begging him with your eyes, they flit from his cock to his eyes. Dick to his eyes. Blinking so much it’s making him a little dizzy. You’re all lashes and pouty lips, hands clasped together like you’re praying. “Oh!” You grab at his shoulders when he bullies his cock into you. Pupils blown out, doll lips parted in surprise. There’s not as much pain this time he bets. Cunts like a fucking slip ‘n slide, he’s sure it must feel good.

Leon bottoms out with a grunt. He draws his hips back, shallow thrusts that get you keening, babbling like a little baby ‘bout how much you adore him. Just ‘cause of some dick. God, you really know how to make him feel good. The fat head of his cock hits that spongy spot inside of you just right, ‘cause your back arches up in a way that looks painful. Exorcist type shit. Even hears your bones crack.

“That good, baby?” He laughs lowly in your ear, has to swallow back a groan when you clench tight around him, “c’mon, stop pushing me out, darling.” Leon gives a sharp thrust, pushes his way past your tightness, leaky tip nestled up against your cervix, fleshy and warm. Tiny little pussy you’ve got, no wonder it hurt so bad back then, just about managed to take all of Leon.

“I love you,” you whimper a fervid confession, baring your neck like an animal. He bites into your skin with the aim to break it. Hot and carnal. His heavy balls slap against the fat of your ass, he’s fucking you so good, so deep. Each thrust garners a whiny noise that he hushes with a kiss, gushes of slick running down his shaft and wetting his balls. Messy pup. Never fucked anyone that got so damn wet for him. Mostly ‘cause Leon has a knack for hitting on people who don’t reciprocate. His fingers on your clit is all it takes. Leon feels it, how your cunt forces him out when you cum, with each upwards thrust is a squirt of wetness.

“That’s it, sweetheart, let it all out for me,” Leon rolls his hips into you, the sweat on his brow begins to trickle down his face. He tastes it on his brow.

You're spent. Can’t even lift a finger, going lax on him as he drives himself into your cunt, slams his hips into yours till they bruise. Groaning, his cock spurts all it can inside of you, skin stretching taut as his abs tighten, spilling his load in your cunt. Right where you’d like it. Pulling out didn’t even cross his mind. Pussy is awful good for such a dull face.

“Leon,” you’re giving him a dopey smile, so stupid, lovesick on dick alone, he hasn’t even done anything nice for you.

He hums for you to keep going, slips his cock out with a lewd pop and flops down beside you.

“I really like you,” you nuzzle your nose into his neck, “like loads ‘n loads.”

“I know you do,” Leon states, “I don’t mind keepin’ you around or anything, darling,” like a pet, “just can’t have you fallin’ in love with me.” You look away from him with a scowl. Too late. He knows that.

“I like you, Leon,” you hug his arm, “I don’t… you can stick it in my ass if that’s what you really want, I really don’t mind. I don’t think it’d feel that bad.”

You think that’s gonna keep him around? Might’ve worked when he was twenty. “When I call you, you’ll pick up, won’t you?”

“Yeah, of course I will, Leon.”

“Then we can talk, but you can’t keep calling me, alright?” Work has always been a problem. But now he has you. Loser who’ll stick around to the end of time for him. It’s nice this way. The whole rape thing is behind the both of you too. You’re so set on liking it anyway, not gonna turn him in or anything.

“Okay, Leon,” you’re pouting, but you’re not spoiled so you agree. “What if I miss you?”

“Then you just gotta wait for me.”

“I’ll always wait for you, Leon,” you smile wide, “I don’t have anyone else to wait for.”

Not like he had anyone else either. Quite nice finding the one person in the world that might be lonelier than him. Sadly, it makes Leon feel better about himself, ‘cause at least he has contacts in his phone. He’d be dead if he ended up the way you did. Would’ve knocked back a few pills years ago.

“I really like you though, Leon, and you can rape me again if it makes you like me too,” you’re so incessant, he might just take you up on that offer.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #tw noncon

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pink-sparkly-witch · 5 months

Text

The Widow Timestamp: I Love You

Summary: Sam tells Y/N that he loves her for the first time. This is basically PWP.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Jared Padalecki Character for @j3bingo

Warnings: flirting, kissing, smut, fingering, hand job, p in v.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: My first journey into Sam smut… please be kind 😅 Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

You can catch up with The Widow here!

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

SAM’S POV

“Hey, Dean,” Sam says as he answers his phone.

“Sammy, you better not bail on me tonight,” Dean grumbles, getting straight to the point as always.

“I’ll be there,” he responds. Honestly, the week he’s had at work, meeting his dad and brother at a bar on a Friday night is the last thing he wants or needs right now. A night lounging in sweats, eating Chinese food, and watching a movie he didn’t need to use too much brain power for, is what he really wants to be doing.

“Good. Just checking. Can only get you away from the office if it’s for your girl these days, so…” Dean said.

“Yeah,” Sam chuckles. “Sorry about that. She, uh…” he trails off with a chuckle, lost in thoughts of his girlfriend.

“I know, Sammy,” Dean says, and Sam can hear the smile in his older brother’s voice. “She can’t come, right?” he checks.

“No, it’s her friend’s birthday, so they’re having a girls night,” Sam says, sounding slightly less enthusiastic than he meant to.

“What’s the matter? Y/N got you so pussy whipped already that you can’t stand the thought of being away from her for one night?” Dean laughs, and Sam chuckles along with him.

His brother isn’t completely wrong. He and Y/N have been dating for almost three months and are blissfully in the honeymoon period of their relationship, where they can’t get enough of each other or bear to be apart for too long.

“No, it’s… I’m just tired, is all. It’s been a long week at the office. And it’s the firm’s family day tomorrow, so I’ll see Y/N then, anyway.”

“That’s right. She’s meeting all the big guns for the first time! Are you nervous?” Dean asks, and Sam sighs loudly.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t be. I mean, who cares if they like her, right? Because I do, and that’s all that matters. It’s just… if I want to make partner one day, things like stable relationships and who your other half is seems to have a say in it,” Sam admits.

“They’re gonna love her, man. I think it’d be hard for anyone not to fall in love with her,” Dean reassures him. “You found a good one, Sammy. Hold onto her.”

“I know, I will.”

Despite his earlier reluctance to spend the night in a bar with his dad and brother, Sam is having a great time. With work and Y/N, it’d been a while since he’s spent this much time with them, making him feel a little guilty.

Sam’s worries about his dad and Dean teasing him about ‘his girl’ are quickly dampened when his dad asks if things are serious between them. Both men had smiled and clapped him on the back at his confirmation that it was and that he was confident she was it for him. The only slightly teasing remark so far has been from his dad.

“Better start saving for a ring, son,” John chuckles.

With both men grinning at him like idiots, Sam feels a hand slide across his shoulders. “I’m flattered, but I have a girlfriend,” he says without turning around.

“No, I’m flattered,” Y/N responds, and he smiles before turning to face his girlfriend. “And very reassured.”

“Hey, baby. What are you doing here? I thought girls’ night was across town?” Sam asks as he stands to kiss her.

“Well,” Y/N huffs with a roll of her eyes. “It was, and we were having a great time, but Charlie dragged us all the way over here because she found out the girl she’s crushing on works here. And, you know, can’t say no to the birthday girl!”

“Well, can’t say I’m not happy about that,” Sam chuckles, placing his arm around her shoulders. “You look beautiful, baby.”

“Thank you,” she smiles and glances down his body before she speaks again. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear plaid before. I like it. It’s a good look on you,” she stretches up on her tiptoes to kiss him again.

“Noted,” Sam chuckles, and Y/N giggles.

“Alright, I’ve had enough of this lovey-dovey bullcrap. Makes me wanna vomit,” Dean winks to show his jest and stands from the table. “Can I get you a drink, sweetheart?”

“No, thanks,” Y/N shakes her head. “I have one waiting for me at my table and probably three tequila shots by now. I just wanted to come over and say hi.”

“Do you, uh, wanna come to my place when you’re, you know?” Sam asks quietly, hoping it’s quiet enough that only she can hear him. His dad’s chuckle and Dean’s slap on the back, and a “Get it, Sammy!” make him want a hole to open in the ground and swallow him.

Y/N laughs, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment before he watches her take a deep breath and pull herself together.

“I’d love to, Sam. But the cardinal rule of girls night is that you can’t bail on girls night. Especially for a guy. You know that, right? It’s the whole ‘chicks before dicks’ thing. So, there is no way I’m getting to sneak away from that,” Y/N points to the table of women laughing loudly and downing shots, “before midnight.”

“I’ll wait up,” Sam grins charmingly with a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes, watching Y/N’s facial expressions intently as she takes in and interprets his meaning.

“Well, alright then. Guess I’ll see you later,” Y/N said, biting on her plump bottom lip.

“Yeah, you will. Have a good night, baby,” Sam leans down and presses another kiss to her lips.

“You too,” Y/N smirks, pulling Sam down by the lapels of his shirt for one last kiss. “It was good to see you again, John,” she smiles as she reluctantly parts from Sam.

“And you, sweetheart,” John smiles. “You’ll be over for dinner on Sunday, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Y/N returns his smile before turning her attention to the eldest Winchester son. “Dean, that table,” she gestures in the general direction of where her friends are, “is out of bounds.”

“What? But why? Come on, Y/N! There are some real hotties over—” Dean tries, but Y/N’s warning scowl and raised eyebrow make him back down.

“I mean it, Dean! I don’t want my friends badgering me for your number, or with questions about what they did wrong, or asking me to ask Sam to ask you why you didn’t call,” Y/N chuckles.

“Fine,” Dean huffs in resignation before walking over to the bar.

“Good. I’ll see you later, Sam.”

Y/N’S POV

12:45am

The cab pulls away from the curb, and you walk up the path to Sam’s house. Stopping at the door, you take a second to fluff your hair. You’ve never been like this before; never bothering too much about your appearance and certainly never for a guy. Still, you found yourself touching up your makeup and perfume before leaving the bar to come over here, making sure you look perfect for him.

You ring the doorbell and nervously shuffle from foot to foot, wondering if the butterflies you feel with Sam will ever go away. You hope not, as the flutter turns into a swarm when you hear the door unlocking.

“Hey, baby,” Sam smirks, eyes slowly taking in every inch of you. “Glad you came.”

“Well,” you grin as Sam steps to the side, inviting you into his home. “I know what kinda night I’m in for, and I would be a fool to miss out on this.” You trail your fingers up his chest, grab the neck of his t-shirt, and pull him down to meet your lips, kicking the door closed behind you.

Sam pushes his tongue into your mouth and shoves you against the door. He quickly turns the lock, shutting you in for the night. The kiss is hot and heavy, and you whimper as his fingers tug at the zip of your dress.

You shimmy the material down your body and let it pool at your feet, leaving you only in cobalt blue lace underwear. Sam growls, grabbing your thighs and pulling you up his body. You wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, as his lips find their place on your cleavage, licking and sucking your skin.

Sam’s hand trails up your back and into your hair, pulling it hard enough to force your head back and gain access to your neck. He sucks and nips gently, cautious not to leave a mark, knowing tomorrow is an important day for both of you.

“Sam,” you groan, and fuck, is it the neediest and most pathetic you’ve ever heard yourself. “Need you.”

“Yeah?” Sam rasps, his voice deepened with lust. “Right here, baby?”

“Yes,” you gasp, already breathless, and he’s barely touched you yet.

Sliding his hand over your thigh and pushing it between your bodies, Sam pulls your underwear to the side and, without warning, shoves two fingers inside you. He barely lets you adjust to the intrusion as he immediately begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your tight, wet channel, smirking as you moan his name.

Curling his fingers inside you, he watches your head fall back and thump against the door. “Fuck,” you grunt, your hands dropping from his shoulders and desperately fumbling with his belt. You love it when Sam builds the pleasure and teases you, but you can’t, not tonight. Tonight you need him now.

“Hey, what’s the hurry, baby? We’ve got all night,” Sam chuckles, but you don’t stop undoing his pants, finally pulling his belt loose and moving quickly to the button on his jeans.

With his jeans finally undone, your hand delves into his boxers and finds their prize. Sam is already fully hard, and you grip his cock and pump your fist as best you can while pinned against his door.

Sam growls when your thumb swipes over his sensitive head, turning you on even more. The wet sound that gets louder and louder with every pump of his fingers inside you should embarrass you, but instead, you moan.

“Fuck, baby,” Sam groans lowly into your ear. “I need to be in you.”

“Yes! Please, Sam,” you whimper as his fingers suddenly leave you empty and wanting. He pulls your hands off his cock and teases your clit with its tip before he pushes inside you in one slow thrust.

“Shit,” you whine, still not used to his generous length stretching and filling you so completely. You’ve never had anyone reach so deeply within you, and you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

Sam holds himself fully sheathed inside you, this time allowing your fluttering walls time to stretch to accommodate him, and his lips find yours in a passionate kiss that’s all teeth and tongue.

The second you feel yourself relax around him, he pulls out to the tip and slams back in, punching the air from your lungs. He doesn’t let up, pounding into you ferociously, and your high builds quickly.

Sam’s large hands grip your thighs, and you groan loudly, trying to remember to choose a long dress or pants to wear tomorrow because you can already feel bruises forming where his fingertips are digging into your soft muscle.

It’s become one of your favourite things; the colourful little bruises that litter your skin thanks to his groping hands. He’s an animal in the bedroom, but when it’s over, he always places soft kisses on every mark he leaves in his carnal state.

“Sam, I’m close,” you whine as you slide your hands into his hair and tug on the long strands.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know. I can feel it,” Sam says through gritted teeth. Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you, and you growl in frustration, tugging his hair harder to emphasise your displeasure.

“What the—? Sam, come on! I was nearly there!” You whine, pouting at him when he chuckles, tightening his grip on you and walking towards the sofa.

“I know, and I wanna watch you,” Sam smirks, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks.

“Watch me?” you murmur breathlessly.

“I wanna watch you come, and I wanna do it while you ride me.” Sam’s lopsided smirk creates another pool of wetness in your core, and you seem to have lost the ability to speak. “Is that alright, baby?” You nod and gulp, your words still failing you.

“Alright,” Sam says as he unwraps your legs from his waist and puts you down on shaky legs. He pulls your underwear down enough that it falls to your feet before ridding himself of all his clothing.

“Then get riding.” He smacks your ass, sits on the couch, and waits for you to climb onto his lap. You stretch your arms behind your back, ready to unclasp your bra, but Sam clicking his tongue stops you.

“Uh uh, baby. Leave it on,” Sam grins, and you smirk as you finally climb onto his lap and take his cock in your hand, placing it at your entrance and sinking down slowly. When your skin meets his, your head falls back with a gasp.

Sam’s hands drag up your body, pausing to toy with your nipples behind the blue lace. He slides the straps down your shoulders, exposing your hardening buds to the cool air briefly before his lips cover one and his hand the other.

Raising your hips up and down his length, you find a rhythm and angle that lets you feel every ridge of him glide perfectly between your walls, hitting all the right spots and making you see stars.

“Sam, baby, I…” You grind your hips through your orgasm, and Sam grunts as your walls clench him.

“That’s it, good girl,” Sam murmurs, kissing your sweat-slicked chest. “Hold onto me, baby.” He takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders; you know it’s his turn now, and he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.

Sam lifts you and lays you on the couch, moving your hands from his shoulders and placing them above your head, trapping them with just one of his own. His other hand grips your thigh and pushes it, forcing your legs to open wide for him.

The first thrust is heaven, hitting everywhere all at once, and you and Sam’s grunting confirms that your walls are still fluttering, clenching, and sucking him in.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good,” Sam groans, his hips moving impossibly faster and pushing in deeper and deeper.

Your eyes roll, and you scream Sam’s name as he sends you soaring over the edge again, taking him with you.

“Fuck, Y/N!” Sam gasps, grinding himself into you, and you feel his release coat your quivering walls. “Fuck, my girl’s got a good pussy. So fucking good, baby.” You’d giggle at his praise if you hadn’t lost the ability to breathe, let alone speak.

Sam drops his head to your chest, kissing over every inch as he grinds against your cervix. You moan with every twitch of him inside you, and when his kisses turn to bites and sucks, you add a high neckline to the list of requirements for tomorrow’s outfit.

He lets go of your hands, and they instantly go to him, wrapping around his back and holding him against you for a little longer.

“I love you,” Sam says, leaving your breasts alone to look at you.

“Yeah?” you smile widely. It’s the first time either of you has said it, and it feels good. It feels right. “You’re not just saying that in your post-orgasmic haze?” you chuckle.

“No. I have for a while now. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Sam.”

Tags: @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @octoberclidan @nelachu2423 @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567

#j3bingo #the widow #timestamp #au sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester

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exrellian · 3 months

Text

Replaced MC AU

I’m pumping this out cuz I’m motivated! Still in third person

TW: the brothers being mean, MC getting bullied-

Part Two!

Everything is Changing

Mammon was the first to fall for Amelia, then Levi, Asmo, and Beel followed quickly

Satan, Lucifer, and Belphie were… weary about the new girl, the three found it odd how quickly their brothers fell for Amelia, seemingly forgetting MC completely

“Hey Beel, Hells Kitchen has a new menu item, it looks delicious! Want to go try it together?”

“Sorry, Amelia and I are going to try it in a couple minutes”

MC shrugged it off, happy Amelia was making friends

“Mammon, I’m bored, wanna go to the casino tonight?”

“Amelia and I are going to watch some movies tonight, no can do human.”

What? MC started to feel weird about this, not really too phased by the fact that the two were hanging out, but the fact that Mammon so nonchalantly called him ‘Human’

“Asmo..? Want to go clubbing tonight?”

“Hm? Not with you, not really. Sorry!”

Oh.

What?

“Levi? Want to play Raft together? I heard a new update came out!”

“I already beat it with Amelia, it was really fun!”

“Oh? Well would you mind playing it with me?”

“Amelia used your account, so we would have to start over for you to really see the update and that would just be boring”

“Oh um… alright, I’ll just play it on my own!”

This went on for about a month before the next brother dropped

“Hey Belphie, do you still have my blanket? It’s kinda cold in my room”

“Oh, I let Amelia have it because she was cold.”

“You gave my blanket to Amelia? Why couldn’t you give her one of yours?”

“She liked yours, don’t be selfish MC, you can just go buy another.”

“Fine.”

MC left, frustrated and still cold.

It was then when the worst so far came to be.

“That will be 18 Grimm”

MC swiped his card and it… declined? That was weird, he had more than enough Grimm! He had a part time job for a while and was payed by Diavolo for hosting events at RAD too! He opened his DDD and checked his account

-143 Grimm

What!?

He puts his DDD away and pays out of pocket for the blanket before returning home in a rush and going to his and Amelia’s room. Luckily for him, Amelia wasn’t there. Grabbing his laptop and checking his bank account he sees a bunch of online purchases on various video games. He slams his computer shut and runs to Leviathans room to see Amelia and Levi playing some random gacha game.

“Are you on my account Amelia?” He tried to keep his voice low and calm but he was shaking

“Oh! I’m sorry MC, Levi said I could!”

“Did you buy anything?”

“Well yeah! I didn’t like your account so I reset it so I could get the characters I wanted! Levi said his card was attached so I could spend as much as I wanted! Wasn’t that so nice of him?”

MC was writhing

“MY card was attached to that! You drained my account completely!”

Amelia looked almost… happy?

“It was your card attached? Sorry MC” leviathans tone was disingenuous and annoyed

“Since it was meant to be your money can you just pay me back for what she spent? I was saving up for something!”

“I’m not giving you my money MC, you need to stop being so selfish. Get out of my room.”

“No! Amelia spent all my money thinking it was yours so clearly you have the money to reimburse me!”

Levi stood up and walked over to MC

“I don’t know what has gotten into you, but you are not the person I fell in love with. You are almost more selfish and self centered than Mammon. First you go bullying Amelia, then you think I have to give you money for a little mistake. Leave my room MC, I don’t want to see you.” The hatred in Leviathans eyes struck a fear into MC that he hasn’t felt since he first arrived in the Devildom, weighing his options, he left, deciding it would be in his best interest to talk to Lucifer about it. He arrived at Lucifer’s study to find it empty, he then checked his room, finding it also empty

MC [Hey Lucifer, are you home?]

Lucifer [I am in a meeting. If you need to talk meet me in my study tomorrow.]

MC [K.]

Tomorrow could not come sooner

#obey me #obey me satan #obey me solomon #obey me angst #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me oc #obey me one master to rule them all

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odigaon · 11 months

Text

baby

summary: you and your boyfriend decide to start a family together

rating: smut, 18+

characters: optional bias x afab reader

word count: 1,161

warnings: dumbification, oral (female receiving) impreg, unprotected sex

unedited!

—————————————————————————————————————————

there you were. spread out, dripping, and anticipating what he was going to do next. the thick fog of subspace hazing your brain was preventing any fully coherent thought from forming in your head. it was okay though. you knew that he was there.

for the last hour you had been bent into multiple positions all over your apartment (and outside): the car before you even arrived home, the front door, the couch, and the dining room table before he finally got you into the bedroom. your poor cunt was swollen and tender from cumming so many times, but every touch from him still felt as good as ever.

now he had you here on your shared bed. on your back with your legs spread and knees pushed up to your chest. his face was buried in your pussy, no doubt that his mouth was covered in spit and cum. how many times had you been eaten out tonight? three? four? it feels so good your brain is practically melting out of your ears.

at this point you think he must be doing it for his pleasure and not yours. every swipe of his tongue and suckle from his mouth has you keening and whimpering. words aren’t even being formed but he knows just what you need.

what gets you the most though? his moaning and whining. every time he feels you clench around his tongue makes him want to stop just slide into you and feel it on his cock. when he hears your voice pick up in pitch, he presses your knees further into your chest and avidly continues exactly what he was doing in order to get you your release for the fifth time that night.

you feel the knot in your tummy start to tighten. toes curling and fingers grasping on to the sheets as best you can, you try your best to warn him, but the only thing that can leave your lips are moans and whines.

letting out a loud squeal, your release hits you like a freight train. white hot pleasure radiates from the top of your head to the bottoms of your feet. black spots dot your vision as you try to come down from your high. you feel him pull away from your cunt and sit up slowly. trying to blink away the haze, you do your best to follow him with your eyes.

he massages your thighs and whispers, “are you feeling okay, baby?”

when all you can do is sigh and blink at him he giggles, “silly me. why am i asking you when you’re too fucked out to answer? i’m sorry. my dumb little baby can only think with her pretty pussy right?”

you feel your cheeks flare up. even fucked out, you can tell his tone is the one he uses in times like this: a bit mean but still conveying his love and adoration for you.

“not dumb.” you muster out

“oh so my pretty girl can use her voice! what do you want next baby? no begging. just tell me and i’ll give it to you. but you have to use that pretty voice of yours or i’m gonna have you the way i want,” he says while lightly tracing the outer folds of your pussy.

“cock!”

embarrassing. you meant to form a full sentence, but evidently it’s not in the cards for you tonight.

“aw does my pretty baby want my cock?”

you nod your head frantically

“uh uh uh. words, baby.”

“yes. wan’ your cock please.”

he smiles one of smiles he saves for when you do something especially cute. pushing him self up slightly, he readjusts you both to be a bit more comfortable.

“you ready?”

“mmhm.”

he lines him self up, and slides home. or at least it might as well be home.

the first slide in is always his favorite. the sound you make is a drawn out combination of a moan and a whine. that sounds almost makes him blow every time.

he presses into you further and you think you feel all the air leave your lungs. he’s so deep, you think you feel him in your stomach. every inch deeper is making you lose your mind and before you know it, all train of thought leaves you and you are solely focused on his cock inside you. the loud ground that leaves him sends you over the edge again; tightening up on him and preventing him from moving .

“fuck baby. i love you so fucking much. your cunt was made for me. i wish i could spend the rest of my life inside you, pretty girl.”

god. the things he’s saying.

if that’s one thing you love about him fucking you: he always ends up fucking the both of you dumb.

the slow, deep thrusts leave you clenching and unclenching around him uncontrollably. one small change in the position, putting your knees back up to your chest, leaves him grazing your g spot. now your mouth has become a waterfall of whines and moans, if anyone tried to quiet you right now, you don’t think they could.

you feel him leaning down close to your ear and nuzzling your neck.

“yeah? that feel good baby? god i wanna cum inside you so bad. will you let me?”

all you can do is wrap your arms around his back and sink your nails into his broad shoulders.

“yeah? want me to cum inside? fuck, pretty girl wants me cum inside her and get her pregnant, huh?”

at that, your eyes nearly roll back in your head. pregnant? he always talked about wanting kids, but you didn’t know that he wanted them this bad.

a chorus of “yeses” start leaving your mouth. all you want, all you’ve been thinking about for the past couple months while the both of you had sex was how bad you wanted him to cum in you.

“you’d look so beautiful pregnant.”

it’s the last straw. as you’re cumming again you muster enough effort to reply to him.

“i want them to have your laugh.”

he starts picking up the pace and leans away slightly to look at you clearly. the pretty smile and misty eyes tell you that he loves you.

“I want them to look just like you, baby. your eyes, your smile, your cute little nose. i want them to know how great of a mommy they have.”

your eyes start to tear up. how can this man make you feel like this while still fucking you so good?

whimpering louder, you clench down on him in an effort to keep him inside. you want nothing more than for him to fill you up with his cum and get you pregnant right now in this moment.

his groans and moaning grow in volume as he gets closer to his release.

whispering out a small, “please. fill me up. i want it all. please. i wanna make you a daddy.”

his thrusts start to grow sloppy and he begins thrusting into you without his earlier finesse.

“you want it all? i’ll give it all to you baby. only you.”

with a handful more thrusts, your boyfriend is finishing inside you. his head drops into your neck while he rides out his high, whimpering in your ear. reaching up to run your fingers through his hair, you ask, “you really think i’ll be a pretty mom?”

he chuckles a bit at that, smiling into your skin and giving you a small kiss.

“i said beautiful. not just pretty.”

a soft blush colors your cheeks. he lightly strokes the side of your face while he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

“you really wanna be parents right now?”

at that he lifts up, gives you small kiss on the forehead, nose, and then lips. he grasps your sides gently and shuffles the both of you around to where your head now lays on his shuddering chest.

“i want nothing more, baby. i’d do or give up anything in order to start a family with you.”

at that, your eyes mist over. god, you really love this man.

“should we start thinking of baby names and nicknames then?”

———————————————————————————

thank you so much for taking the time to read! if you liked it, please leave a like and reblog and if you’re feeling extra nice, a comment as well!

if you have any questions or would just like to talk, feel free to drop in my ask box!

#xdinary heroes smut #skz smut #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #xdh smut #skz x reader #xdh x reader #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #xdinary heroes hard hours #xdinary heroes hard thoughts #bts smut #optional bias smut #optional bias x reader #bts hard thoughts #bts hard hours

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cloudyyoimiya · 11 months

Note

omg please May i requet chuuya, fyodor and tecchou when they beg for s/o atention

yes ofc! good lord i rlly like this idea. just the idea of these tough, masculine men resorting to begging for a sliver of attention is rather funny in my eyes, but yet it would prove how far they’d go for their s/o. anyways, thank you for requesting!! <3

Begging for Their S/o’s Attention; Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, and Suehiro Tecchou

Format: Scenarios

Possible warnings: Fyodor most likely being out of character

Chuuya Nakahara

Currently you were typing away on your computer for work. By midnight you had to fill out several reports, thus you had no time to spare for breaks or even making dinner for yourself. You weren’t a slow worker, no, but you weren’t a quick one either. You didn’t even procrastinate this time! Why did your boss have to dump all of his work onto you for the night?!

Chuuya sat by idly, doing some random surfing of the internet on his phone. Every now and then you’d ask him to get you a food or a drink, and he’d oblige. He knew how much your work meant to you, so he didn’t wish to interfere by asking you to spend some quality time with him.

But Chuuya could only take so much of no attention from you. Thus, after a while, he finally decided to try to get your attention.

He got up from his seat on the sofa and walked to your desk. Chuuya then bent over a little bit so he could become eye level with your sitting form.

“My dear?” He asked with a forced smile. “When will you be done?”

“Oh I dunno… Maybe in a few hours. I still have a few reports to fill out,” you responded, still furiously typing on your keyboard. “Sorry!”

Chuuya internally rolled his eyes then folded his arms across his chest. “D’ya think you can take a break?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t wanna risk not reaching my deadline,” you murmured.

Your boyfriend let out a rather loud sigh. It almost seemed like he wanted you to hear his disappointment.

“Can you please take a break?” He asked, his voice becoming sickeningly sweet. It sounded extremely forced.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Please?”

“I told you I can’t, Chuuya.”

He let out yet another loud sigh, but this time it was a borderline groan. “I’ll do anything ya want for a week if you take a break.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” you said as you started a new paragraph of your report. “But my answer is still no. I have to get these done, Chuuya. There’s no room for breaks.”

Chuuya stayed silent as he continued to stare at you. Apparently it was time for drastic measures on his end.

“When is the last time you saved that document?” He asked, trying to keep a friendly smile on his face.

“Just a few seconds ago. Why do you ask?”

When you finished talking, Chuuya immediately placed a hand on the back of your laptop and forced it to close. He then looked back up and you, a small smirk forming onto his features. He seemed rather proud of himself for this small stunt he pulled.

“That’s why.”

“Are you serious?”

“Very,” Chuuya huffed. “Is it so wrong that I wanna spend my free time with my partner?”

“Not at all, but you could have at least waited until I was done!”

“You wouldn’t be done for the next couple of hours,” your boyfriend deadpanned. “Now c’mon. I wanna spend time with you.”

You sigh as you sat up from your seat at the desk. You then stretched your limbs, your bones making a subtle popping noise. “Alright, alright. Fine.”

Chuuya smirked. “Good! Now lemme just…”

Your boyfriend threw you over his shoulder and started to bring you to the living room.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re lucky I love you, Chuuya.”

Chuuya let out a soft chuckle. “I love you too.”

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

You were currently in your shared home with your boyfriend, relaxing in the living room while reading a book. You read about a chapter or so before the front door to your home opened. You shifted your glance to the noise, curious as to what it may be, and you were greeted with the sight of your tired boyfriend.

His posture was only the slightest bit worse, and he has eye bags slowly starting to form on his pale face. He looked like he had gone through a lot today; maybe that Ukrainian clown was bothering him again? Who knows…

You shrugged your shoulders and continued to read your book in silence. When Fyodor seemed like he was exhausted from work, he’d rather be alone than be with you. He has told you that it had nothing to do with you, it was just that he needed a little alone time to destress from the day. Who were you to argue with that? You were the same way if you had a particularly terrible day.

Fyodor sat down next to you as you continued to read your book. He seemed a little bit more fidgety than usual, but you brushed it off as he was still overwhelmed from whatever happened today.

“Love?” He eventually spoke up. His voice was as flat as ever.

“Hm?” You hummed as you turned the page of your book.

Fyodor stayed silent for a little while, most likely trying to gather his thoughts. He then spoke up in a whisper. “Can you do something for me?”

“Of course,” you said as you nodded. You then closed your book, making sure to place a bookmark where you finished your reading. “Do you need me to leave and give you space? I can do that for you y’know.”

“No, no. It’s alright,” Fyodor spoke, his tone getting gentler. He then went to say something, but stopped himself.

“Then what do you want me to do? Make you some dinner? How does chicken alfredo sound tonight?”

“No that’s not it either.”

You sat there, mildly confused. You put your book onto your lap and then crossed your arms. “Then what do you need?”

Fyodor seemed rather embarrassed as he spoke. “Can we please cuddle?”

“Pardon?” You asked, your eyes widening only the slightest bit.

Fyodor has always been really blunt as to what he wants and needs. He has never once hesitated to tell you what he desires, but this time he seemed embarrassed. Fyodor has never really outright asked you to cuddle with him, so this was a slight shock to you.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Fyodor muttered just loud enough for you to hear it.

“I won’t but… Are you sure? Don’t you want some alone time after a stressful day?”

Fyodor scoffed then glared at you. “I don’t need that right now. If I did then I’d already be in our room sleeping.”

“I see… Alright then. I’ll oblige,” you said with a small chuckle escaping your lips.

Fyodor scooted closer to you, then leaned his head onto your shoulder. You then let out a small sigh of content as you wrapped an arm around his waist. Fyodor was really never one to beg to be held like this, so you made sure to make him feel comfortable.

“Feel good?”

“Yes, thank you, myshka.”

“Of course, my dear. Anything for you,” you said with a small smile.

Fyodor let out a small sigh. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Suehiro Tecchou

With a whisk in hand, you were busy in the kitchen baking something for your boyfriend. Recently he had told you that he had a craving for chocolate cake with some cloves and cayenne pepper, so being the good partner you were, you decided to surprise him and help him satisfy his cravings.

Tecchou was currently sitting in the living room, scrolling through his phone. He was never really one to go into social media, but he felt like he needed to distract himself from you. The Hunting Dog wanted to get your attention, but he knew that he would never be able to get it while you were baking. After all, you had a very specific way you liked to bake, and he didn’t wish to intrude. He learned that the hard way.

Though, he could only take so much. That’s why Tecchou decided to get up from the couch and enter the kitchen.

You were whisking together your batter when you suddenly felt muscular arms wrap around you from behind. You let out a soft gasp then immediately whipped your head behind you, looking at your boyfriend straight in the eyes.

“Do you need something?” You asked as you continued to whisk the batter. You then directed your gaze to the mixing bowl once more.

“I’m bored,” your boyfriend simply stated, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. He seemed content with holding you like this.

“Can’t you entertain yourself with your phone or with a book?” You asked, your voice remaining neutral.

“No. My phone isn’t you.”

You let out a soft hum. “Then I suppose you can stay in here while I bake. Just promise not to touch anything, alright?”

You could feel Tecchou nodding into your shoulder. “Of course, angel.”

“Good. Now give me some space,” you said as you carefully swatted away his arms.

Your boyfriend let out a small groan, clearly disliking that he won’t be able to hold you while you bake. He did respect your wishes though and let go of you for a little while. He then sat at a nearby barstool.

“When will you be done?” He asked.

“Soon-ish.”

“Soon-ish?”

“Mhm. Just be patient,” you said with a kind smile. “I’ll be done in no time.”

Tecchou let out a small sigh as he rested his elbows on the kitchen counter. He then continued to watch you, making sure you don’t somehow hurt yourself while baking. He knew that you were a careful person, but sometimes you had your days when you were clumsy.

After around fifteen minutes of you not being done, Tecchou got up from the bar stool and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind once more. And just like before, he also nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“It’s been fifteen minutes,” he mumbled into your neck.

“Has it? I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he continued to mumble. “Are you done yet?”

“Just about. This can go in the oven to bake,” you said with a smile.

You walked over to the oven and carefully placed the cake tin full of batter inside all the while Tecchou was still latching onto your backside. Once it was in you set a timer and wiped some sweat from your forehead with your wrist.

“That just about does it!”

You could feel Tecchou nod into your neck before be picked you up and held you in his arms bridal style. You let out a small yelp as you felt in carrying you into the living room.

“I just wanna be with you for a little while, alright?”

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