#*and i just noticed his hand his backwards

[i-love-ptv]

(Coco) Nuts For You 𓈒ㅤׂ 𓇼

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Coconuts n cuteness with your lovely JJ

Fluff! + One sexual innuendo ;)

(Not proofread I fear..)

Wc: 583

An: Hi Babies!!!! I’ve missed you all so so much! Sorry for the long break, but I think it was def needed for me. Here’s this small fic so I can get back into the groove of things! xx

feedback is always appreciated <33

“Hey J?” You murmur.

“Hm?”

“Ya know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Oh, well that’s never good, is it?” He sasses heartily.

“Shut up. It’s basically been scientifically proven that i’m smarter than you,” you say while giving a slight kick to his shin under the table.

JJ chuckles, “Whatever helps you sleep at night cupcake, now what were you saying?”

“Oh right! I was thinkin’, if you were a fruit, you’d totally be a coconut!” You say with glee, with a sense of urgency.

“…Yeah? And why’s that baby?” He asks as he pops another fry into his mouth; his voice filled with amusement while he slightly tilts his head to the side in a puppy-like manner.

You hold your index finger in the air, signaling for him to ‘hold on’ while you sip on your crisp coke.

“Well I dunno, I just think it fits you. I mean, coconuts are hard ‘n tough on the outside, but they’re so, so sweet on the inside, ya know?!” You say as you reach over and grab one of his fries in his basket.

You continue shortly, “Like they’re kinda hard to open at first, takes you a ‘lil to get it, but it’s worth it at the end.” You finish, with a shy glance up to the blonde.

“…..Or maybe it’s jus’ cause you have a big ass head.” You say through snickers, which turn into full-blown laugh when you watch disbelief wash over your boyfriend’s face.

“Oh, you little-” He cuts his shout off quickly, noticing a few other customers in The Wreck looking over; some with a snarl.

This only makes you both giggle louder. Whenever you were with JJ, it felt as if nothing mattered, as if you were both in your own little world, together. Being with the boy made you stop caring about what others thought of you, it wasn’t easy persay, and you’ll always thank JJ for helping you get out of your shell.

“Way to ruin the moment, and you know what, I’m gonna ignore what you just said. That just may be the corniest thing you’ve ever said, hun.”

“Shush, you. It’s not a bad thing,” you mumble out.

“I’m glad that you’re comfortable enough with me to let your guard down, to let me care for you like you deserve.” You say softly, as you link your pinkies together over the wooden table.

JJ displays a full smile after this, letting his canines show brightly.

“I think you’d be a peach,” he says with a smirk as he fixes his red backwards cap.

“Oh yeah? Why?” You say with a similar look, a hint of mischief in your eyes.

“It’s ���cause your butt is like two round peaches together. Or maybe a watermelon, ya know, cause I love your sweet taste, if you catch my drift.” JJ says as he releases laughter that could fill the room alone.

“Jesus Christ JJ! God, I think you’re the one ruining the moment now!” You screech out, as you throw his fries at his face, in a way to somehow silence him before you get a complaint from your shared friend Kiara.

JJ’s head is tilted back while his hands rest on his stomach. You peer at him over your glass, and wonder how you got so lucky.

You don’t know what god you somehow pleased, but you’ll endlessly be grateful for them allowing you to wiggle your way into JJ’s heart.

No matter what, it’ll always just be the two of you, in your own little world, together.

[chaossturns]

"𝐇𝐔𝐇 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓?" | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

synopsis: you and the triplets were hanging out at your place, but while they were over there you kept staring at Matt. What will happen when he catches you?

dom!matt x poc!reader

warnings: fingering , pet names , p in v , backshots , spanking , praising, unprotected sex (wrap that shit before you a tap a bitch), kitchen sex , and no use of y/n

a/n: i've recently become such a slut for matt and i'm going crazy , but i actually love what i wrote.

word count: 1.5k

slightly proofread

“There goes Jayson Tatum at the three point line, banking it into the hoop.” The commentator, Mike Breen had announced. Chris and Matt stand up, screaming in praise, thrilled that their hometown basketball team is currently winning. 

You look over and smile at the pair, slightly pulling the blanket that covered you and Nick up higher. Nick tipped the bag of chips a bit towards your direction, taking a handful of chips out of the bag. 

Matt and Chris are sat back down in their original spots, Matt sending a smirk in your direction as he lifts his hips up, trying to get comfortable. You sink back into the couch, heat beginning to creep onto your cheeks. 

“You good girl?” Nick questions, noticing your strange behavior. You nod your head yes, peeking over at Matt, looking at his face as it focuses on the game infront of him. Admiring him more, you observe everything he’s doing while watching the game. 

The way his face contorts into confusion when a bad call is declared, or how his jaw clenches whenever the opposing team scores, and when the veins in his hands become more prominent anytime he balls them into a fist. 

You subconsciously press your legs together, wetness starting to pool in between your thighs. Now centering your attention on his fingers, you take a look on how long and slender they are, wondering how they would feel inside you. Matt removes his gaze on the game, staring right into your face. 

Your eyes travel from his hands, to his crotch, to his lower abdomen, to his chest, and then his face. When you reach his face you regret everything you did, his staring becoming intimidating now that he’s caught you gawking at him. With your eyes widening, you regain as much focus you can on the game. 

It was now the fourth quarter, the sound of Nick’s quiet snores being heard. Chris was falling in and out of sleep, trying his hardest to stay awake and finish the game. Trash was lying between you and Nick, leading you to get up with your hands full of trash. You walk into the kitchen, the floor groaning aloud as you walk , and placing the trash in the can. 

You turn around being met with Matt’s hard chest, your hands pressed against it. 

“Oh, I’m sorry Matt. I didn’t know you were behind me.” You say, your soft brown eyes meeting his hard blue ones. Slowly backing away from him, his footsteps inching towards you with each step backwards you take. 

“Y’know you’re so gorgeous.” Matt says, your back now colliding with the kitchen island. You just stare back at him, your throat suddenly becoming dry. 

“Say thank you mama.” Matt adds, tilting his head to the side as he approaches you. 

“Um, t-thank you Matt.” You say, your breathing coming out shaky as nervousness scales over your body. 

“That’s my girl.” He replies, his veiny hand wrapping around your jaw, giving it a squeeze while doing so. You thought you would have been opposed to a man touching you like that, but it was something about Matt that made you enjoy this every bit. 

“Now tell me,” He starts, “what were you thinking about when you were staring at me?” he asks, making you feel so tiny compared to his frame. 

“I w-wasn't thinking about anything.” You say, your face engulfed with a rosy tint. 

“Don’t lie to me. Just tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.” Matt says, a smirk staying planted on his face. His right hand is now removed from your jaw and now dropping to your neck. 

“I was thinking about your fingers inside of me.” you say, it leaves your lips in a mere whisper. 

“Huh sweetheart?” Matt asks, his face leaning into yours, a small distance left between your lips. 

“I said I was thinking about your fingers inside me.” you repeat, now coming out louder than before. Matt hums, his lips closing the gap, placing his lips against yours. Removing his hand from your neck, he goes down to your thighs, grasping onto them as he raises you upon the counter. 

Matt groans into the kiss, pushing your back against the counter. You hiss out due to the coldness, goosebumps forming along your body. He leaves your lips, his being red and puffy. He leaves a series of wet, sloppy kisses down your neck. 

His fingers teasing the waistband of your gray leggings, tugging them down a bit. 

“Matt, I need you so bad.” you whine, collecting your thighs together. Matt now pulls your pants pants down, your underwear following immediately after. You feel his fingers graze against your body, taking his time to reach the place you need him most. 

He reaches your heat, starting to toy with your clit, his lips now kissing along your collarbone. You sigh out, finally getting what you had wanted. Matt plunges one finger into you, melting against underneath his touch fully. You let out uneven breaths, arching your back off the chilling counter. 

“M-Matt,” you say, moans stuck in your throat, trying to swallow them away. His long, lengthy fingers abuse your insides, stretching you out in the best way possible. A low moan leaves your lips, Matt making it difficult for you to refrain from letting out your sounds of pleasure. 

“Look at you,” Matt begins, “taking my fingers so well sweetheart.” he finishes, your face twisted up in satisfaction. The pace of his fingers speed up, his fingers now entering your pussy knuckles deep. You feel the coolness of his ring hitting the outside of your core, moaning loudly as he continues his intense movements. 

“Shh, we wouldn’t want my brothers to know your acting a mess over my fingers,” He says, planting an opened mouth kiss to your swollen lips. You shake your head, not being able to find the words. 

“Words, I need your words baby.” He says, slowing his fingers down, waiting on your answer. 

“Mm, no Matt.” You say, needing him to continue. He speeds up, becoming all worked up from this. Matt knew he needed to be inside you, wanting to feel how you felt wrapped around his dick. He removes his fingers from you, leaving you feeling empty. 

“Turn around for me ma.” He says, now having your front half pressed against the freezing surface, you standing on your tiptoes. Matt presses kisses along your spine, a smack echoing through the kitchen as he slapped your ass. He pulls away from your body making you look back with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, watching as Matt strips from his sweats and boxers.  

His hard member leaking with precum, feasting your eyes on him as he comes closer to your dripping cunt. 

“You gonna be a good girl for me? Huh sweetheart?” He asks, his dick now entering you at a slow pace. 

“O-oh fuck yes Matt.” You moan out, the sound of groans being heard from behind you as Matt dives deeper into your wetness. He now rolls his hips into you, overtaken by how well you fit around him. 

“Fuck, you’re so big.” You whine out, arching your back as Matt drills into you harder and faster. Matt grasps onto your wrists, collecting them at the small of your back. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, dropping your head onto the counter. 

“Please, don’t stop Matt.” you say into the island, one of his hands now gripping onto your shoulder as he thrusts into you. 

“Didn’t plan on it.” Matt grunts, the sound of his pelvis meeting your ass filling your ears. This had you going overboard, knowing your best friend's brother was mercifully pounding into you as they were asleep, not too far from you. 

A knot in your stomach begins to form, now clenching around Matt’s aching length. 

“You feel so good, mmph shit.” you say, pushing back into him as you match his rhythm. Matt releases your wrists, now gripping your hips as you reach your climax. 

“Yeah,” He says, “how good sweetheart?” he asks, a groan leaving his throat directly after. His dick now hits your g-spot over and over again, making your need to cum more prominent. 

“S-so good.” you say, a loud moan running out of your lips. Matt smacks your ass, grabbing your neck from behind as he continues his tortuous ramming. 

“Shh baby be quiet.” He whispers into your ear, his breath fanning against it. You nod your head, your legs trembling as you need to cum. 

“I’m gonna cum Matt.” your hands gripping onto the counter as you conquer this overwhelming pleasure. 

“Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you.” He says, throwing his head back as his strokes become slow. A pornographic moan leaves your mouth, trying your hardest to not let anything else escape your lips. 

You feel Matt cum inside you, the warmth surging all over your body. Matt stays inside you, louds breaths being heard from both of you. The sound of the couch is known, looking up to see Nick toss from one side to the other. 

You look back at Matt, a lazy smile dancing against your lips. He pulls out, your tight cunt now having his cum dripping out of you. 

Maybe you’ll just have to look at Matt more often. 

tags: @selenascorner @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @sturnsslut @bigbeefybitch @rileysturniolo @summerssover @l0ver-i @thenickgirl @mattssluttygf

[fanaticsnail]

Hi! This is anon with the doctor oc.

I have not a request but just a thought. Imagine Doc revealing to the crew that flowers can be edible (I think it can be new info for most of them) just for it to backfire immediately because someone is trying to eat a poisonous flower the next minute

What Did You Eat, Bubblegum?

Hey Doc Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,600+

Synopsis: Sharing your passion has ended in un very foreseen circumstances, but leaving you a little upset regardless.

Themes: Platonic!Bubblegum x gn!reader, Platonic!Killer x gn!reader, softness, little bit of flirting, allergic reaction, poisoning, venting, swearing, medical practice, patient x doctor, terms of endearment, reader is referred to as "Doc" - the doctor of the Kid Pirates

Notes: As someone who has a basic guide for foraging on edible weeds and native plants in my home country, this is very dear to my heart. I use flowers in most of my cooking, especially as garnishes. Onion Weed (three corner leek) is my favorite edible flower. Screengrab from this clip.

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sinning-23 @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @nerium-lil

“Oh, come on,” you whisper beneath your breath, hastily rolling back the sanitary lining sheet for your treatment cot to house its next victim. 

“Hey Doc," the voice of the hulking first mate called over from the threshold of your office door, "Got another one for you.” Bubblegum was heaped over his shoulders, his face three-times what it ought to have been. 

Bubblegum was hastily placed down in a heaping thud, his head immediately flopping backwards and his mouth hastily gasping and gulping for air. His skin was blotchy and donning the same vibrant hue of purple as his lengthy hair. 

“What did you eat, Bubblegum?” you gently coax your sensitive crewmate, noticing the rise in welts and pus-filled boils forming beneath the surface of his skin. Bubblegum attempted to smile at you, his teeth drawing back to reveal a sheepish grimace. 

“Wih wahs’ah fauwah,” he muffled past his abnormally puffy lips. Your puzzlement was depicted on your brow as you looked to Killer. He sighed, rotating his head on his shoulders and donning the 'hat' of 'muffle-translator.' 

“It was a flower,” he nodded to you, gently walking to perch his hips against the back of your office chair. 

“And where did you find it, sweety?” you asked Bubblegum as you donned your hands with latex gloves. 

“Doun bai n’dah wayah n’ groien’ i’da reyds,” you nodded along to Bubblegum's muffled words before looking over to Killer. 

“Down by the water and growing in the reeds,” Killer bobbed his mask along with each nonchalant explanation. You nodded, looking over to Bubblegum and readying an aloe-based balm for his itching skin. 

“And what color was it?” you bit back your growing smile as you added, “Be as descriptive as you can, sweetheart. It helps with every detail to know how to treat you.” Killer rumbled a soft growl below his breath as Bubblegum began to explain himself. 

“N’ah sem ehz woit n’dah pels ‘er ewow,” you sucked your entire bottom lip into your mouth as you turned away from both men, overcome with the ridiculousness of the encounter, and stifling a laugh with knowing Killer would have to translate for you. “N'ah miwow ehz weyd n’deyre wahz bwaek speirz grewin’ aouda n’dah senn’r. D’ehr wayah wah’z pewlin’ inah cwoiyew ahda boyum.” 

Without missing a beat, you straightened your back and bore your eyes directly into Killer's mask and waited for his translation. He huffed back a guttural growl, inhaling deeply as he translated for you. 

“The stem was white and the petals were yellow, the middle was red and there were black spikes growing out of the center,” he uttered concisely, “The water was pooling in a coil at the bottom.” You nodded, gently mincing up a remedy with your mortar and pestle and bringing up a drawstring bag. 

“Mm-hmm,” you nodded along, placing down your mortar and pestle and removing a portion of the creamy aloe concoction and pasting it on his features, “And what did you learn?” Bubblegum’s face blushed a soft hue of pink as he widened his eyes to depict his innocence. 

“Notta gow fowahjin’ ithow m’hawaht doktnar,” he uttered sorrowfully. You smiled down at him as Killer translated for you. 

“Not to go foraging without the ship's doctor,” Killer uttered nonchalantly with a soft shrug. 

“My hot doctor, you mean,” you nod back at him over your shoulder, finishing off with Bubblegum and giving his shoulder a soft squeeze. “Use this balm until the itching, swelling and bruising goes down. Okay, sweet pea?” 

Bubblegum nodded along and gave you as much of a close-lipped smile as he could muster. The purple-haired crewman exited your office and closed the door behind him, prompting you to exhale while removing your latex gloves with a curt ‘snap.’

Just as you began to relax, two arms snaked around your waist and tugged you back into the wall of flesh and muscle behind you. You shrieked in response, your whole body growing tense with fright. 

“You little shit,” a husky pur called down into your ear, forcing lighting to surge from your coccyx up to your cranium in a fizzling crackle, “You could understand Bubblegum the whole time, couldn't you?” A small squeak was pulled from your throat. 

His arms felt like everything all at once, overwhelming your senses. Secure and welcoming, taunting and warning, strong and intimidating: all of the things you knew Massacre Soldier Killer to be. You lulled your head back on his chest, looking up at his mask adorned face and giving him a coy, pouty smile. 

“I didn't want anything to get lost in translation,” you shrugged in his arms, clicking your tongue up at him with a mocking taunt painted on your lips, “Didn't want to miss an opportunity for you to use that pretty voice I love so much, big guy. It's always a joy to fuck with you a little bit.” 

“Oh, you're a little bratty today,” he purred down at you, the hue of his icy blue orbs gazing dangerously down at you through the several holes in the mask, “What's got you in such a shit mood, hm? Wanna tell Daddy about it?” You refused to pay his comment any mind, instead shrugging out of his arms and tidying up your work bench. 

“You know, if you keep using that one slip up against me, it's gonna lose its charm,” you scoffed at him, ridding the cot of the sanitary lining and throwing it into the trash compartment beside the bench. You spray down the leather lining to sanitize it, wiping it down and casting away the disposable material in the same trash compartment. 

Killer continued to watch you, eying you off and reading your body language with ease. 

“So you don't want to talk about it?” he offered you, spinning your desk chair around to watch it rotate with a soft squeak at the metal base, “Gonna do that thing you do and pretend you're fine until you explode?” You huff out a puff of exasperated air and turn back around to him. 

“Look, I'm just a little pissed that my idea of fun turned around and detonated in my face, is all,” you pout at him, folding your arms and glaring at the trash compartment at the side of your bed. “When I borrowed that book on edible plants for remedial purposes from the Blackleg chef, I should've known it'd turn to shit. Sometimes I forget the crew I serve with, I should've known better.”

“You shouldn't feel apologetic for your enthusiasm,” his tone was solid and baring a hint of warning, “We love your enthusiasm. I-... I love your enthusiasm.” His stutter caught you off guard, prompting you to arch your brow at him. 

“I'm fully aware of how much you all enjoy my enthusiasm,” you arch your neck and look down your nose at him, your pout still evident on your features, “I just wish you'd all check in with me before eating random shit you find on the side of the bay.” 

Killer’s soft, high-pitched giggle prompted you to drop your pout and offer him a soft, half-smile. His laugh continued as you joined yours alongside his, softly reaching forward and placing your hand on his scarred, left forearm. 

“Alright, alright,” you squeeze his arm and teeter off your joint laughter, “Let's get back to work, yeah? I've gotta do some paperwork correspondence with Trafalgar.”

“Trafalgar?” you could hear the audible arch in his brow, his disdain depicted in his tone, “Why?” 

“He was asking about something, is all. Something to do with my dissertation paper back when I graduated,” you shrug, gently releasing his arm and turning back to your desk. “I don't get to geek out about my thesis often, and getting his questions via Den-Den made me feel passionate about my studies again.” 

Killer nodded along with you, slowly returning your desk chair back towards your desk and gently coaxing you to sit down in it. 

“Dinner’s in about about thirty to forty, if you're coming,” he uttered beneath his breath. As he turned away, he felt your hand clutch his wrist and hold him in place. He gently glanced down to look at you, your face not leaving your desk as you withheld your growing fluster. 

“Thanks, Kil,” you continued to hold your eyes fixed on the desk in front of you, “For listening to me, I mean. It means-... It means a lot to me.”

He leaned down, his mask brushing it's brow gently against your temple. 

“I'm happy to be on ‘Doc Diffusal Duty’ any time,” he whispered softly before pulling away, “You wanna talk, know I'm here, alright?” 

“You're the best, big guy,” you give his wrist two rapid squeezes before letting go of it, returning back to your writing. Killer halted at your door, glancing back at you and watching as you returned to scratching and marking your journal and shifting through the papers. 

“It's paella, by the way,” he called back over to you, “Just in case you were wondering.”

“I'll have an epinephrine on standby for Wire,” you called over your shoulder, “We both know there's no holding him back from your cooking.”

“Oh, Doc,” he clutched his heart in feigned dramatical emphasis, “You flatter me, but there's really no need.” You paused, cocking your head to the side and your brows knit in puzzlement. Killer giggled softly before his regular baritone cadence returned. 

“I used chorizo as a substitute for shellfish, just to give you a bit of a break.” 

Before you had the opportunity to turn the entire way around, you noticed Killer was already away from darkening the threshold of the doorway. Your bottom lip quivered at the thought that he changed the menu just to suit both Wire’s anaphylaxis, and to give you a break from playing disciplinary warden and watchdog. 

You were definitely going to volunteer for washing up duty as payment for his thoughtfulness.

[thetaxicabber]

Another new art for my Fic Voyagers of Time and Shadow

Here’s an excerpt of this scene 📚

-Sebastian sighs heavily and pulls his hand from his robes. He holds it out to her, extending it. Evie stands and takes it, expecting him to take her somewhere. Sebastian only shakes his head and turns his hand up so it’s closer to her face. She realizes then that he's showing her his hand not giving it to her.

A little gasp escapes her lips as she takes in the skin on the back of his hand. There are words carved into the flesh, red words where it's scabbed over. The wound is raised and when she runs her fingers over it she can feel the definition of the words. The words read ‘I will show respect.’ Evelyn’s stomach twists violently. He’s been permanently scarred by whatever this is.

“Seb…” she whispers, her voice filled with concern and sadness.

“I didn’t want to tell you,” he mutters quietly and Evelyn fumbles for a wiggenweld from her bag. She carefully pours the potion across his irritated skin. She hopes it will soothe it because it must be quite painful for him. Once she’s applied the potion she kisses the palm of his hand tenderly. “This is the first time that the words didn’t fade after I wrote them," he informs her quietly.

“This is how detention is served in this time?” Evie feels herself getting angry. How is this allowed? Has Sebastian been suffering every night? She didn’t even notice. She feels terribly guilty. She's a terrible friend....terrible girlfriend.

“No,” he shakes his head, pulling his hand back from her grip and runs his fingers through his hair. “Potter told me this isn’t normal. He’s…actually not a bad bloke. But Evie, this Umbridge is the worst witch I’ve ever come across. Worse than the Ashwinders. She’s using a cursed quill to do this!”

“We can’t let her get away with this!” Evie exclaims. How dare this woman harm Sebastian? How dare she mark him in this way!

“What choice do we have?” Sebastian sighs and his anger fades. He looks suddenly so tired. “We can’t do anything, Evie. We just need to find a way to get home…”

Evelyn is unable to temper the anger that’s burning through her. “I don’t bloody care about that! I care about you! She hurt you! We can’t let this stand. I can’t!” Evie feels her power thrumming in her veins. Her fists are clenched at her sides. She itches to make Umbridge suffer…suffer like she has inflicted on the poachers she battled. The darkness within her rises, beckoned forth by her rage.

Sebastian takes a step backwards, away from her. “Evie…your eyes. They’re glowing…red.”

This amazing art by @giselsann-opencommissions I'm so excited to continue getting art for this series! If you've read it let me know which scenes you'd like to see! :)

[thebest-medicine]

The Harm in Trying

MHA - BakuDeku & the Bakusquad lee!Bakugo, lers!Izuku Kaminari Kirishima & Sero - [read on ao3]

Summary: Bakugo is put into a ticklish situation by Midoriya with the rest of his friends… and of course he denies he’s ticklish.

A/N: I am so weak for giggly smiley Kacchan…it’s a problem and I’m making it all of y’all’s problem now. On a fucking roll with these BNHA fics lately, sorry not sorry for my bkdk brainrot~.

Words: 2.3k

…

“Wait, no way! Kacchan! Are you still ticklish?” 

Bakugo can feel the heat of his blood burning across his face and ears with embarrassment. “The fuck? Of- of course not!” He dares a glance at Midoriya—and finds a knowing grin on his classmate’s face, instantly regretting the decision. “Don’t even think about trying—”

“Aw, why not? If you’re not ticklish~, then why does it matter?”

“Shut up, Deku!” Katsuki hisses. 

“No, no, Midoriya has a point.” Kirishima agrees, holding up a finger to get the attention of the rest of the group.

“Seriously, what’s the harm in trying~?” Kaminari grins.

Bakugo rolls his eyes at Izuku despite his prominent blush. “Look what you did. Damn it, nerd!” He cracks his knuckles and shifts his weight so he’s in a good place to spring up from his seat quickly if he needs to. “Hope you guys know, if you try this, I’m gonna kill—”

Sero is quick with his tape and has the advantage of being out of Bakugo’s line of sight. At the first sign of movement, explosions start to crackle off of his hands, and Katsuki leaps to a stand to put up a fight with his classmates. 

Instead of a fight, it’s over in moments, to Bakugo’s dismay, as tape wraps its way around his arms, legs, and whole body tightly. There’s a tug, and Bakugo feels himself tumbling backward, only to be caught short of the floor by Midoriya. 

Katsuki’s eyes flare with alarm as he realizes the brief battle has taken a severe turn out of his favor, and fast. He also notices Izuku looking down at him with.. Amusement? Concern? Interest? 

“What the hell?! You guys are seriously dead! Let me up! Now!” 

“…Sounds like something a ticklish person would say.” Kirishima smirks, moving closer.

Kaminari laughs, joining in. “Hehe yeah, you seem worried Bakugo… What’s wrong? Are you like reeaaaaally ticklish or something?”

“No you idiots! I just don’t like being jumped by my so-called friends! What the hell?!” 

Ignoring his barking, they reach in to help Midoriya lower Bakugo gently to the floor of the common room. Kaminari throws a leg over Bakugo’s legs while Kirishima untangles one of his arms and drags it up over his head, exposing his side. Sero sits down beside them. Katsuki’s other arm is taped against his side, and his legs are haphazardly wrapped together, meanwhile his idiot best friend now has one of his arms in a vice grip over his head. Kaminari settles into a spot just above Bakugo’s bound knees, holding him in place further. 

Midoriya leans in closer, shifting around the Bakugo’s side opposite Sero, clearly remembering the tickle fights they had gotten into as kids. “Uh oh, you’re in trouble Kacchan~.” 

All four of his classmates have excited grins on their faces. Fuck. Fuck. Red blooms across Katsuki’s face.

Kirishima brings a super wiggly teasing hand down slowly, frustratingly slowly, toward Bakugo’s exposed armpit, and he can’t help his eyes locking to it. “Seriously, cut this crap out!” 

“Not a chance!” Kirishima exclaims with a giddy smile.

Bakugo growls in frustration as the claw draws closer, just a few inches from his skin. Suddenly, it dips down faster, and a gasp fills the room just as quickly. 

Bakugo growls again when he realizes the trick… and his mistake. His attackers snicker with glee.

“Did you see his eyes just now?” Kaminari observes excitedly.

Sero chuckles along. “Yeah, oh man.” 

“You’re totally ticklish Bakubro.” Kirishima laughs, delighted, and continues his teasing descent.

“Bet you we can get him to giggle.” Kaminari suggests.

“I don’t fucking g-giggle.” Katsuki swallows, quick to stop talking as Kirishima’s fingers touch down, poking curiously. 

“Actually, Kacchan, I’m pretty sure you do have some giggle-spots.” Izuku chimes in, biting his lip to fight back his grin. 

“You’re gonna be the f-first to die, Deku!”

“Hey! That’s not very nice.” Izuku chuckles. “You’re not really in a good position to be rude right now.” He pokes his fingers into Kacchan’s tensed abdomen which jumps slightly under the touch. 

Bakugo’s skin is alight, his nerves tingling in anticipation. His focus is forced in on the points of contact his friends have with his underarm and stomach. “Don’t.” He grumbles weakly, energy focused on keeping his composure intact.

The hesitant yet curious fingers pick up pace, encouraged by his stonewalling. Kaminari joins in, pinching the tops of Bakugo’s thighs, and Sero starts poking at his exposed ribs. 

Katsuki twitches more and more under each touch, his chest starting to rattle a bit with held back laughter. This led him to the conclusion that he was absolutely, definitely, undeniably still ticklish. It was much worse than he remembered.

As his friends grow more and more confident by the moment, he finds it harder and harder not to laugh. A wide smile works its way onto his face and Katsuki curses himself internally. Soon, giggles are starting to slip through. He only wishes he could at least have a hand free to cover his ridiculous face. 

“It’s working! Look!” Kaminari concludes triumphantly, reaching up further to prod at Bakugo’s hip bones. 

“Ah! Stahahhop it—”

Kirishima and Sero grin in turn, encouraged, and start to tickle with more determination at their respective spots. It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for Katsuki’s laughter to begin leaking out.

“Nahahaha- idiots! Cuhuhuhut it out! Thihihis is stuhuhupid!” Bakugo complains, chuckling through his torment.

“It’s working, let’s get him worse!” Kirishima and Kaminari agree, suddenly tickling with fervor over their respective spots. 

“No!” Bakugo shouts, panic rising with his laughter as he realizes he can’t move.  

“Guys…” Izuku clears his throat for a moment. “Wait a second.”

They pause, turning to look at Midoriya.

“Let’s just… take it easy ok? I don’t think we should be too mean…” 

Kaminari shrugs. “I mean… He’s already gonna kill us all for this, regardless of what we do going forward.” 

“Yeah but.. I still think we should be...” Izuku pauses, drawing a lazy finger down Bakugo’s midsection, feeling the muscle tremble beneath it. Little protection is offered in the form of casual dorm clothes. “—well, try to be… nice. I think.” Izuku brings the rest of his fingers out into a spider-y crawl up to his ribs. “He always hated it if you went too hard, back then.” 

“Sh-shuhut the fuck up!” Katsuki growls between fading laughter. “Stop tahahalking about mehehe- while you’re—”

“Hey! He’s trying to stick up for you, bro.” Kirishima chastises, pinching Bakugo’s upper rib cage, sending his head back with a shout. He keeps up wiggling his fingers softly into the ribs.

“I don’t cahahahare! All of you shut uhuhuhup! Gehehet off already! It’s ahah- hahaha obviouslyhehehe not wohohohorking!” The fire of Katsuki’s embarrassed rage burns its way into the words, finding its way through despite the cackling laughter surrounding his words.

“Listen.” Kaminari leans in, trying to force eye contact with the flustered, angry blond. “Even though you’re being a big fat liar and a total jerk right now and you totally deserve to get it worse… We’re gonna listen to Midoriya and take it easy on you.” 

Part of Bakugo wants to scream, ‘don’t you dare take it easy on me! Ever!’ —but the ticklish part of his brain keeps that other part silent. He scoffs instead and tries again to kick his legs out unsuccessfully. “Whatever! Either get off or get whatever the hell you’re gonna do over with already!” 

Kirishima beams. “…That almost sounds like an invitation.”

“Shut up!”

“You need to work on your attitude, Kacchan~.” Kaminari snickers, poking a few times into Katsuki’s sides, and Bakugo tenses again, face still lit up with a warm blush. Midoriya continues to scribble gently at Bakugo’s stomach and up to his lower ribcage, searching for the perfect spot on his ribs that always made him.. Ah, there it was.

“Ehehehe, stahahaha— Deku d-dohohon’t!” Katsuki giggles.

“Are your feet ticklish too?” Sero asks, happy with his tape bonds and feeling a bit crowded with the other two up near Bakugo’s chest. 

Bakugo’s toes curl in his stupid, measly, unprotective slippers. “N-no! I told you— I’m not fucking tihihicklish!” He blatantly lies. “Sh-ahaha-shut up, stupid ehehextras!” 

Kirishima sighs dramatically over the sound of Bakugo giggling. “Sounds like we’re gonna be here a while guys…”

“That’s fine by me!” Kaminari adds gleefully, pinching at both of Bakugo’s hips every few seconds and watching him buck faintly at the touch.

Katsuki continues his mantra of cursing and denial, only encouraging his tormenting friends to push him, tickling and teasing with a greater boldness with each passing threat he makes. And well, damn if his own competitive steak isn’t to a fault — he can’t help the instinct that he doesn’t want to lose. He knows it’s stupid at this point to keep denying that he’s ticklish. And yet…

“Shuhuhut up! I’m nohohohot! I’m not! Ahahah- don’t! Shihihit-fuck you Deku! Hahaha nooo—”

“Ooh what’d you do?” Curious voices crowd Izuku, faces trying to catch on to what he did to attract Bakugo’s ire.

“Nothing—” Izuku lets out a little laugh. “Just—”

“Nothing!” Katsuki reiterates, interrupting and glaring up at Deku. 

Midoriya laughs awkwardly. “I think Kacchan would actually murder me if I showed you… sorry guys.”

They think for a moment, then shrug in agreement. “We’ll just have to keep doing this until we find whatever that spot was, then, I guess. Start a weekly tradition.” Kirishima says as though it’s a new chore they have to complete. 

“Don’t. Don’t you fucking dahaHAHAhahare!”

“Wow, Bakugo, for someone who’s definitely not ticklish, you’re laughing a lot.” Kaminari teases. “What's so funny?” 

“Your stuhuhuhupid fahace!” Bakugo laughs back without missing a beat. 

Kaminari narrows his eyes, then pulls away his hands. He pulls his hand in close to examine it, flexes his fingers a few times; he rests his fingertips gently on his other forearm, watching thoughtfully. Electricity crackles, quiet enough to miss over Bakugo’s strangled laughter. With a grin, both of Kaminari’s hands are back, reaching down toward Bakugo’s middle, who groans with frustration. 

When Kaminari touches his stomach this time though, he pushes his hand under the shirt and against the bare skin. Bakugo tenses even further, his mind stumbling between a mixture of embarrassment, lightness, anger, laughter, and an overloading nervous system. 

“The fuhuhuhuck are yOU-HA! STAHAHA-NO! WHAHAT!? WHAahahaha whahahat iS THAHAT!?” Comes Katsuki’s increasingly frantic response to the feeling of tiny, popping electrical stimulations pulsing out from Kaminari’s nimble fingers. 

“Oh man, seriously what is that?” Kirishima asks with a grin.

“If you want us to stop, all you have to do is admit that you’re ticklish~.” Kaminari reminds a cackling Bakugo. He drags his fingers in light, slowly closing and widening circles along the skin he can reach under Bakugo’s shirt that isn’t fully closed off by tape. “It’s nothing really, just getting a little creative with my quirk.” He says casually to his friend as though there were not a writhing Bakugo between them.

“That’s so cool! How’d you come up with that? Is it easy to manage the minimal electrical output? Oh man, it seems like it tickles really bad! Poor Kacchan..” 

“Hey, if you want to try it out next…” Denki snickers.

Izuku holds his hands up, crossing and uncrossing them in front of his chest quickly. “No! No, I’m, heh, I’m already really ticklish so…” He blushes crimson with a nervous smile.

“Oh are you now?” Kaminari winks, grinning. “Maybe we’ll have to test that some time.” 

“N- uh. Heh.” Midoriya’s face is red as he stumbles over words and eventually just turns to focus on poking at Kacchan in front of him rather than his future possible victimhood.

Sero, meanwhile, tickles up and down Bakugo’s soles and pinches at his ankles and calves and shins, gaining him some suppressed kicks and jerking muscles.

When Midoriya returns to tickling along his ribs, Bakugo feels that he isn’t going to be able to take this much longer, with Kirishima on his underarm and occasionally neck, Sero on his feet, and Kaminari spreading his terrible little sparking tickles all over his sides and stomach now.

“Fuck! Stahahahahop- ehehehehenough already!” Bakugo growls through his increasingly desperate laughter. 

“You just have to admit it~.” Kirishima sing-song’s.

Bakugo shouts through his laughter, frustrated and nearly at wit’s end. He grapples with the few options he can think of right now, landing on nothing but the obvious out. Deku’s fingers start crawling back up toward his ribs and he panics, shouting out between laughs. “Fine! Fihihihine I’m ticklish! It fucking tihihihihihickles! Ahahahahhare you happy nahahahow? I am! Ahaha- haha is- is thihihis what you wahahahanted?!” 

Everyone slowly pulls their hands away, leaving a panting, flustered, still-giggling Bakugo taped up between them all. 

“See, that wasn’t so hard!” Kaminari laughs, starting to tug at the tape securing their friend. 

Bakugo flinches when he first reaches in, which makes everyone laugh again. Soon, everyone is helping, and Bakugo is quickly free enough to stand up and rip the rest off. He tries to glower, to stare them all down, but the red hasn’t left his cheeks yet, and the smile is still fighting its way onto his lips. 

“You’re all gonna fucking die. I hope you know.” Katsuki cracks his knuckles, then turns and points accusatorily. “Especially you, Deku!” 

“Wha- me?!” 

“Obviously! This was all your fault!” 

Midoriya squeaks, shrinking in on himself and putting distance between him and Kacchan. 

“I have better things to do right now. But you’re all gonna get yours.” Bakugo threatens as he heads toward his dorm to ‘do better things’ (totally not just take a nap because he’s exhausted from laughing so hard).

[brandyllyn]

Silk from their soul (13)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: T Words: 1.7k Summary: Daisy, Daisy

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

Sunlight wakes you up.

Your Cowboy isn’t nearby and he definitely didn’t wake you up for your watch. You stretch, noting the bandage wrapped around your arm. You can’t even imagine how tired you must have been to sleep through him removing the needle.

Then again, yesterday had been quite the day.

There’s a bottle next to you, filled with distinctive red and yellow pills. You swallow one down, figuring the lingering effects of the Rad-Away will stack well enough with the Rad-X. No sense in not being careful, and their presence is signal enough that your Cowboy has his mind on some things.

Good, so did you.

The fire is out and you slowly sit up, digging in your pack for breakfast. You’re halfway through a ration bar when he strides back in, all confidence and cocksure grin.

“Looks like we might make the foothills today if we hustle.”

You nod, swinging the pack on and climbing to your feet, mouth half full of dry oats. The sudden movement makes you wince and you try to shift your weight as inconspicuously as possible.

He notices, of course.

“You hurt?”

“Sore,” you mumble, trying not to meet his eye.

“Sore? From wha-?” He seems to suddenly realize and that cocksure grin of his gets even wider, if that’s possible. “Well now, can’t say there’s much I can do about that.”

“Well, I’m going to need some recovery time,” you tell him primly, trying to hide your smile when he laughs.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he catches your hand and presses a kiss to your fingers, slipping one into his mouth briefly before letting you slide away, “plenty of other trouble we can get up to.”

Was it hot in here? You were suddenly sweating.

Thankfully - for your journey more than your sanity - he sets off for the day after that exchange, pace steady and sure. The ground is mostly dirt and you walk side by side down what’s left of an old road.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He glances your way from under the brim of his hat. “S’pose that depends on the question.”

“What do you do?” He blinks at you and you rephrase, “I mean, you’re obviously pretty good with a gun, you’re… what you are. I’m just wondering - what do you do? To earn caps? To pass the time.”

“Oh,” he turns from you to scan the horizon, drawing the word out, “bit of this, bit of that.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Never said I would.”

You huff, picking your way around some rubble. “Gigolo?”

It gives you a little too much satisfaction to see him stumble, head turned back to look incredulously at you. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’d be good at it,” you say blandly as you pass him. You don’t get far, his hand catching on the back of your skirt and pulling you back into his chest.

“They do say if you’re good at something, never do it for free.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have any caps on me,” you sigh theatrically, reaching back to slink a hand behind his neck, “do you take any other forms of payment?”

He bites you in retaliation, his tongue quickly soothing the flesh. You should be more concerned, you know that. He’s necrotic and by all accounts has been for a long time. The chance he’s eaten a person were pretty high - although you can hope they weren’t alive at the time and deserved it a little.

“I think we can make some arrangements,” he drawls into your ear and you giggle, twisting away from him. There’s a group of abandoned buildings ahead of you and you dart towards them, listening for his footfalls behind you. He’s quick to follow, a gruff laugh escaping him as he gives chase.

You turn to skip backwards, grinning at him. “C’mon, you can do better than that.”

He bares his teeth at you and starts to say something when his eyes dart over your shoulder and suddenly he’s next to you, pushing you behind him.

“Well howdy fellas, something we can do for you?”

You turn and see them - four men, each with guns, standing in the road ahead. There’s another on top of a building nearby.

“We’re after the girl.”

“Well I’m thinking you might have to find one of your own, this one here is mine.” He’s keeping himself between you and them and you have no problem letting him. He’ll heal up a heck of a lot quicker than you anyway.

“We ain’t lookin for trouble, ghoul. I imagine we’re all after the same thing.”

He cuts his eyes to you before turning back to them. “I thought you might say something stupid like that.”

The first gunshot takes you by surprise, his pistol jumping into his hand so quickly it looks like magic. One man goes down instantly as his compatriots scatter. Your Cowboy goes for the next but you lay a restraining hand on his arm, pulling him behind a wall.

“I thought we agreed on not shooting first and asking questions later?”

“I don’t intend to ask them questions, darlin’,” he responds, unholstering his rifle and casually taking aim around the corner. The shot makes you cover your ears but you still hear someone scream in the distance. The wall next to his head explodes and he jerks back, a piece of stone embedded just beneath his eye.

“You’re hurt!” you cry out, pulling his face towards yours. He shrugs you off, touching the area before refocusing. 

“It’ll be fine.”

You pull at everything in you and force him to look at you. “Let me talk to them.”

He curses but doesn’t shoot again, glaring at you all the while. You wait a moment before calling out in your sweetest voice, “It seems we got off on the wrong foot.”

“That bastard killed Darryl!”

You glare at your Cowboy who looks entirely unrepentant. “Well, you were holding guns on us, it’s a dangerous place out here.” 

A breeze caresses your face and you take a chance, stepping around the wall over your Cowboy’s spluttered protests. Your skirt whips around your knees and against the back of your neck as you hold your hands up. “I’m sure we can come to an amicable agreement!”

A head pops up, the scarred face staring back at you slack jawed. “Well hell you look just like her, Daisy Mae in the flesh.”

Groaning softly you try to keep your expression chipper. “Ain’t that something! May I ask what you’re here for?”

“You know what we’re here for.”

Well shit, you did. It was too much to hope that that asshole hadn’t sent people after you. But you really didn’t want them talking about that. “Well, then I think you also know that I’m not really interested in acquiescing.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“She ain’t going with you, numbnuts.”

You try not to roll your eyes at your Cowboy’s words. He gives you a look of wide-eyed innocence. “Want me to rephrase that as a question?”

There’s the sound of a shot, and suddenly pain blooms along your side. You clutch at it automatically, gasping softly, and then he’s there. Your Cowboy. One arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you out of the line of fire.

Distantly you hear yelling, hear the men arguing with each other. But all you can see is the burned face of the man above you. 

“Ah shit,” he grunts, pressing a cloth to the wound, “you ain’t got enough blood to be losing this much.”

“Sorry,” you mumble in return, trying to give him a halfhearted smile, “I’d rather it be on the inside too.”

He gives you a quick smile, pressing your hands to the cloth. “Am I allowed to do some hurting now?”

You wave a hand weakly, “Have at it.”

It’s efficient, whatever it is. Seven shots over the course of less than a minute. All of them from him as far as you can tell. None of them sound far enough away to be anyone else. You poke at the wound as he does it, grimacing at the ragged edges. Hopefully it wasn’t organic - you could probably heal up from a bit of metal if you were careful - but organic stuff had a tendency to fester.

Boots crunch on rock and you barely glance up as your Cowboy drops into a crouch next to you. He’s got a pack in his hand, a bandage in the other. You try to wave him off but he bats your hands away. 

“It ain’t much, but it’ll set you up til we can find somewhere safe.”

“I’m fine,” you try to tell him even as he presses the somewhat clean gauze to your wound. “I don’t need-”

He cuts you off with a hand around your wrist, pulling you to your feet and throwing your arm over his shoulder. You cry out in pain and he freezes for a moment before wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“You’ve been shot, so unless you and I got a fair bit more in common than you’ve been letting on, we need to get it treated.”

You nod, biting your lip. It hurts like a son of a bitch and you do your best to keep quiet as he leads you off in a different direction, towards what looks like a decently preserved building. Inside there are bedrolls and the remains of a fire - even a cot in one corner which he leads you near before leaning you against a wall. A moment later he reappears with a blanket from your pack, throwing it over the stained mattress and guiding you to lay down.

“Wait here, don’t move. I’m going to go roll the bodies, see if they have anything on them.”

“Roger that,” you say weakly, trying to give him a halfhearted salute. He snorts a laugh before heading out.

You close your eyes, just for a moment. Just to keep your head from spinning.

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

[hauntingkiki]

Hi! I was wondering if you can do venture waking up from having a nightmare about reader dying and readers like lying right next to them and hears venture crying but reader try’s to comfort venture? Just some angst fluff please :c

OMGGG AWWW, IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS!!

Hellish Night

Venture x Reader

Overwatch

2nd POV

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

venture scrambled into their room, tears poured out of their eyes, rolling down their cheeks and dripping on their clothing, skin and the wooden floor beneath them. “oh my fucking god.” they shakily sobbed, their mind backwards as they immediately forget where everything was located around their room.

their knees gave out from under them, catching themselves on their desk with a sucked in breath. their heart hammered against their chest, the scene from a few hours ago replaying in their mind.

~~

“SLOAN!” you screamed, struggling against the strong hold that was around your waist. you threw your fists into the back of your kidnapper, trying to wiggle out of their hold.

sloan chased after you, stumbling as they tried to keep up with the pace. “Y/N!” they cried, reaching a hand out in your direction.

your kidnapper turned his torso, grabbing his mini gun then firing at sloan, dropping the weapon back to his side as he continued to make his way to the get away helicopter that drowned out the loud mini gun sound with the obnoxious whirling of the propeller.

venture was lucky that all the shots missed, punctuating the ground that was at their feet. venture came to a halt, skidding against the orange dirt as they started at the flying machine in front of them.

your attacker threw you off of his shoulder and onto the metal floor, enemy troops snagging you off the floor, trying to detain you but struggling as you kicked and bit, wiggling around.

venture covered their face with their arm, turning their torso away as the wind around the helicopter pushed them back slightly. when the wind slowly stopped, sloan peeled their arm away and cocked their head up towards the pink and orange sky, wide eyes, horror completely washing over their body as they watched the helicopter zoom off. they faintly noticed you reaching out the open side of the vehicle, getting pulled back by the troops inside.

“SLOAN!”

~~

it kept playing in their mind.

over and over and over again.

a hand shot over their mouth, wide eyes as they gagged, but thankfully swallowed it down. sloan started at the wooden floor beneath them, the wax having a faint reflection of themself.

they felt so stupid.

they could’ve prevented all of this from happening.

sloan should’ve been more cautious about the situation, they could’ve warned winston about their past encounter so he could’ve been kick out of overwatch.

sloan knew what he was capable of. fuck, they’ve seen it first hand! back at illios, talon and some of his troops came into the sight, including mauga.

groaning through gritted teeth, sloan pulled themselves off of the floor, whipping their head around to find the needed supplies they were going to need for this journey.

their eyes landed on their canteen that was hanging on their doorknob. ripping it off of the door, they stormed out of their room and into their kitchen, placing it onto the island before walking off.

they did this for about 15 minutes, going into different rooms and grabbing things that they were going to use.

letting out a breath they didn’t even notice, they stood in front of the island, glancing over all the items that were scattered around the countertop.

a first aid kit; full of gauze, wrapping tape, hydrogen peroxide, alcohol wipes and a lot of other shit sloan didn’t even know were medical stuff.

a canteen with backup water bottles.

a few snacks; crackers, chips, small baggies of fruit and some assorted sweets. anything to give them and you fuel.

a pistol that their grandfather gifted them with boxes of backup ammo.

and their drill.

with backpack in hand, they started to pack, trying to organize everything so it would fit into the pouch the best it could.

just as they finished filling up their canteen, a knock echoed through the room. turning the tap off, they twisted the lid on the metal container, gently placing it on the counter as they walked over to the door.

“angela?” sloan gasped when they opened the door, revealing the medic. their eyes looked around her face, brows knitting together. “what are you doing here?”

angela peeked behind sloan, getting a glimpse of their backpack and their drill. she sighed when they stepped over to the side, blocking her view from inside, even though they were too late. “venture, you can’t go there alone.” she muttered, adjusting her glasses before reaching out and grabbing their calloused hands. “lucio’s getting winston now; we’ll all go with you to save y/n.”

venture turned their head to the side, eyes glued to the ground. “i can’t wait, angela.” they huffed, looking her in the eyes, watching as her face slowly softened at their words. “she needs me. she’s my girlfriend for christ’s sake!” they chuckled faintly at the end, shrugging their shoulders.

the two fell silent, angela letting go of their hands with a nod. “go get her then.” she whispered, nodding in approval. “just…stay safe. and bring her back safely.”

venture started at her with slightly wide eyes, their lips parted at her words. they nodded faintly before nodding eagerly. “i will.” they reassured, running a hand through their chocolate locks. “when winston gets reported of it, you guys can head straight there.”

angela hummed in agreement, giving them a quick hug before running down the hall to alert the others about the situation at hand.

venture quickly put the backpack on, then their canteen around their body. they grabbed the gun and put it in their waist band before dragging their drill and walking out, making sure to grab a pair of keys with them on the way out.

locking their door, they made their way over to all the hero’s vehicles, speed walking over to their motorcycle. they got their drill adjusted onto the back of their bike before they hopped on, putting the keys into the keyhole and started up the bike. revving the engine a few times, they slowly drove out of their parking spot before accelerating and driving off.

•••

coughs and hacks filled the room, the sound of liquid dripping into the floor faintly made it’s presence. shoes clicked around you as one of the soldiers walked around your hunched over body, all of the soldiers who took you hostage watched with chuckles and smirks as blood slowly started to cover the floor from their torture.

tears pooled into your eyes, your attention glued on the blood and spit mixture that dribbled down your chin and into your legs, rolling down your skin and spreading onto the concrete. you slowly turned your gaze over to mauga, your body shaking as you watched one of the soldiers try to coax him into joining the torture, but thankfully for you, he declined, staying in the shadows with his arms crossed.

“i’m going to ask you again!” a male voice spat, baton in his right hand. he got onto one knee, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head up, making eye contact with your wide, tearful eyes. “WHERE is the ffFUCKING ARTIFACT?!”

you shook your head against his hold, blood and spit rolling down your chin. “i don’t FUCKING KNOW.” you spat, blood spattering onto his mask that was covering his identity.

he let go of your hair and spun the baton in his grasp before swinging, landing a clean hit on your jaw.

you cried out, your head snapping to the right. you scoffed faintly, opening and closing your jaw before you spat out some more blood.

the soldier pushed you over with his boot, making you whimper as you landed on your fresh cuts and bruises. you brought your knees up to your chest, hissing as blood gushed out of your abdomen from one of the many stab wounds you’ve received. he raised his arm over his head, getting ready to hit you before pausing.

everyone froze, turning their attention onto the doorway as faint gun shots echoed throughout before a booming drill sound followed.

then silence.

your heart fluttered in your chest, pushing yourself up from your laying down position. you knew that clunky drill sound from anywhere.

venture walked into the room, blood slightly dripping off their drill and off their coat.

your eyes went wide, shuffling forward as tears started to pool into your eyes again. “VENTURE!” you sobbed, your body violently shaking as you wailed.

“GET EM!” a soldier from behind you called out, the rest of the soldiers (besides the one that’s next to you and mauga) started to shoot at the archeologist.

sloan dived behind a pillar, using the pistol to pick off some of the soldiers, groaning when they remembered they left their bag full of ammo back with their bike. tossing the gun to the side, their hands wrapped around the handles of their excavator before they burrowed under the concrete.

you watched your partner with a twinkle in your eyes, your lips parted slightly with a faint smile.

you were going home.

mauga slowly walked over to the soldier who stood a little ways behind you, clearing his throat to gain the man’s attention. once he had his gaze, he jerked a thumb over towards you. “she, uh…she won’t say anything.” mauga admitted, rubbing his neck as he glanced over to you before turning back to the soldier. “we just need to find someone else to tell us.”

the soldier’s eyes landed on a dagger that mauga was holding out to him. he gently took it from the inked up man, caressing the blade between his fingers, being careful to not cut himself with it. he slowly nodded, getting a comfortable grip on the handle. the soldier inched his way over to you, kneeling behind you and-

your eyes shot open, the coldness of the blade entering your skin before it quickly left. you slowly and shakily looked down, blood oozing out of your skin, soaking into your shirt. you felt the liquid trickle from your chest and your back, seeping into your pants.

breathing quickly became hard to do, making you put all of your energy onto a simple task.

the two men behind you quickly left, the dagger staying behind on the floor a few feet away from you.

sloan had their back towards you. their chest fell and rose rapidly, sweat building up and collecting in the blood that spattered onto their skin; they were covered, almost head to toe.

sloan snapped out of their odd state, turning to you with a grin before it quickly slipped of their lips, fear washing over. “y/n!” they gasped, dropping their drill as they ran over to your laying down frame. they slid on their knees when they got to you, rubbing a bloodied hand through their hair. “no…no, nonononono.” tears collected in their caramel eyes, gently lifting you up and holding you in their arms.

you wheezed, coughing as you felt the blood pool into your lungs, time quickly running out for you as you were drowning by your own blood. your own body was killing you.

slowly, you reached a freed hand towards your partner, sloan meeting your hand halfway as they leaned their head down into your touch, placing their bigger, calloused hand over yours.

tears were flowing out of venture’s eyes, dripping onto your face as they slid down. “i love you, cariño.” they whispered, their shoulders shuttering as they sobbed. “don’t leave me…please.”

you smiled meekly, caressing their cheek with your thumb, the blood on their face and on your fingers smudging into their skin. “i love you too, baby.” you muttered, taking a deep breath before slowly exhaling, your eyes closing for a brief moment. “i…” you sighed, before going quiet, falling limp into sloan’s arms.

•••

sloan let out a gasp, clawing at the bedding that was placed over them as they shot up. their hunched over frame stared at the base board at their feet, their chest rising and falling quickly.

sweat rolled down from their temple, their shirt was drenched in the salty liquid, so they quickly tugged the shirt off, some of the left over sweat sticking to their chest from the shirt, but it seemingly disappeared once the ac kicked on.

their vision was a haze, impossible to see in the dark. they blinked a few times and their vision got adjusted to the darkness. they glanced around the room they were in, their eyes stayed glued to the right side of the room first. a bunch of maps, drawings, rocks and gems, history books and other things littered the side of the room; their side of the room.

slowly they turned their head to the left side, their eyes immediately shot down to the bed that they were in.

there you were. sleeping peacefully, your lips slightly parted as you lightly snored, your hands gripping at the sheets and comforter that coated your body.

sloan immediately broke down at the sight of you, relief quickly washing over them when they realized that it was all a dream, a nightmare more than a dream. they threw their face into their hands, their back pressed against their pillows and the head board.

their hics and weeps were quick to wake you up, your hand rubbing the sleepiness out of your eyes as you let out a yawn. “babe?” you yawned, fluttering your eyes open once you were done rubbing them with your knuckle. you let out a gasp, pushing yourself up into a seated position as you leaned over to the person sitting next to you. “sloan?! w-what happened? are you okay?” you panicked as you turned on the small lamp on your nightstand, the soft light casting a gentle glow onto the two of you.

your eyes darted around the backs of their hands, scooting your way in between their legs so you were front of them.

sloan peeled their hands away from their tear stained face, choking on their sobs as they struggled to make eye contact. “i…i had a nightmare..” they admitted, almost embarrassed that they were sobbing like this over a nightmare.

you nodded, showing that you understood, sincerity lingering in your eyes. “okay..” you whispered, your hands rubbing gently along their bare, muscular arms. you would be lying if you said you didn’t blush a little at the sight of their bare chest, a small skull with your favorite flowers in your favorite color on their left side immediately catching your eye. you shook your head, scolding yourself at the thought. you can think like that later, you cursed to yourself. “what happened in the nightmare?” your left hand reached out towards their face, gently cupping their cheek as you gently made them look at you, a worried look twisted at your face.

sloan swallowed thickly, their hand atop of yours. they also linked their other hand into your free one, immediately getting a reassuring squeeze from you. “you were taken by talon…” they started, their eyes flickering between your eyes as you watched them. “and you were killed.” they whispered, you almost didn’t catch it.

you let out a huff, a frown tugging on your lips as you brought sloan into a hug. “oh, you poor thing.” you muttered, rubbing a hand in circles along their bare back as your other hand got lost in their thick curls.

sloan dove their face into your chest, gripping at your top as their body shook once again, sobbing into your pajamas.

you shifted around as you comforted your partner, your legs straddled their hips as you gently shushed them, your chin atop of their head as you gently pressed kisses against them every now and then.

“i don’t want to let go.” they muttered against you, loud enough for you to hear it. they pulled away from your body, looking up at you as your hands cupped their cheeks, thumbs grazing under their eyes.

“you don’t have to.” you whispered, kissing their forehead. “i’m not going anywhere.”

sloan sniffled, nodding their head against your hands as they leaned into your right, kissing your palm. “i love you.” they whispered, hands snaking down to your waist as they pulled you closer. “so much.”

smiling, you bright them into a kiss, their lips chapped from the cold air that was being blasted into the apartment. “i love you too.” you muttered against their lips, pulling them into another hug.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

oh…my…god…

that took so long to write holy😭 but totally worth it! (if you couldn’t tell, they’re my favorite character to write) i hope you enjoyed!

[bryhoney]

Recognisance pt.5

It's been so long since my last update it's now Pride Month!!! (Yay!!)

Again, I'm sorry it's taken so long - things are still up in the air for my personal life but here we go update time.

<- Previous Next ->

He’s standing 20 feet away from you, on the other side of the server room. He’s holding his rifle out in front of him - aiming directly at you. 

He’s barely visible in the darkness, his figure illuminated only by the red glow that dips in and out. He appears entirely unphased as he inches closer to you, as though he is preparing to strike.  

You can barely think straight, utterly terrified to face a Ghost again. 

“Don’t cry yet, there’s so much-”

Your hand doesn’t shake as you aim your pistol towards him - your body resolute in its mission to fight. You would not be going anywhere with this bastard. 

You’d kill him before he harmed you again.

The ghost calls out your name softly as though he’s trying not to scare you. It’s almost a whisper, but you can tell there’s no shock in his voice, he knew you were here. He sounds devastated. 

“Kid?” his stance falters, his shoulders drop and he takes a step forward

Pain and darkness and laughter. Silver catches in the light as it moves closer to your skin. 

You push the memory away, now is not the time for this. Even the slightest distraction will allow him an opportunity to kill you. This man was one of the finest the Americans had - you would not best his reaction time. 

“Stay right there!” you yell across the space between you, voice unwavering and strong despite being up against an opponent whose skills you simply couldn’t match. He was a Ghost after all and you were? 

“It’s me, I-” He says softly, “Do you know who I am?” he asks like he’s trying to tame a wild animal.

“Shut the fuck up” you snap at him. How dare he speak to you like that? Your fear was morphing into abject rage and your finger itched at the trigger. Yet, despite everything Rorke’s ever told you, the desire for answers currently outweighs your desire for revenge. 

You decide you want to know who you’re about to kill. 

You’re desperately trying to recall the images plastered around the base of the Ghosts, trying to piece together which mask matched the ghost in front of you. 

He takes yet another footstep towards you and whispers your name again, his gun lowers away from you ever so slightly. 

You readjust by centimetres and fire, shooting his left shoulder. A warning shot. 

He stumbles backwards slightly, quickly catching his footing. He hisses in pain but that’s all the reaction he gives you from the impact. You’re almost disappointed. 

He doesn’t deserve a warning. At least that’s what you tell yourself - you don’t want to think about how, just for a moment, you were scared you might have miscalculated. That your shot might have rang true, killing him.

Why would that scare you?

He takes a step backwards, somehow managing to keep ahold of his rifle amidst the chaos, which is now aimed back at you. Yet, it doesn't feel steadfast, more half-hearted than anything.

Your breathing is shallow and is absolutely giving away how much adrenaline is coursing through you. You notice your hand is shaking now, and you take a step backwards towards safety. 

“I guess I should’ve seen that coming, huh?” he huffs, it feels like it should’ve been a laugh but his rigid roll of his shoulders gives away his discomfort. 

“Why- How could-?” you shake your head, angry at your inability to control your emotions. You must sound so weak and vulnerable. You were back in the hole again. 

“Look- Kid, this isn’t the reunion either of us wanted, believe me- but we’ve gotta move. Now.” his voice is low and urgent - he sounds utterly in control. “We’ve got to get you out of here, and we’ve got to go now” he brings his hand up to his comms device and you suddenly harden, clenching your jaw. 

“Don’t you fucking dare” You grit your teeth and aim your gun at him again, you might be able to take one ghost out, but no more. 

“Keegan, really? Are you fucking serious? She’s my-”

It’s the voice you once heard comforting you. It’s your father’s voice. Elias’s voice and its sudden invasion cripples you. You stagger back, trying not to lose your sudden advantage over the ghost whose gun is now only gripped by one hand.

“Dammit, we’ve gotta go now” There’s an urgency to his voice as his comms chatter too quietly for you to make out over the alarm. 

“Don’t let your dad catch you running around after those two, he doesn’t want that for you” Merrick’s voice is soft, caring. He knows you. He knows your dad. 

He hurt you. 

“I should kill you!” It was meant to sound threatening, but it’s more of a question. 

“We don’t have time for this, lower the gun, Walker” I can hear the frustration mounting in his voice an-

“Walker?” you’re heart sinks. No. No. NO. 

He pauses, “Oh kid, no- What’ve they done to you” he sounds sad. 

“You’re an idiot” the man with the deep voice, he’s laughing. He has the same voice as the man in front-

“You’re a Walker —-- and thr–gh, a certified idiot - I thought may– it was just the men – —- family”, there’s more laughter. 

You feel tears run down your face, “No” is about all you can manage. Your breathing is erratic and your stance is forgotten, the gun is lowered but he doesn’t take advantage of the situation. 

“Higher! H–! Lo will c-tch me!” you’re a child. Happy. 

“That’s your name, look I’m- we’ve gotta get you out of-” he begins, softly, urgently, but the doors to the server room crash open before he can continue. 

“Keegan?” you whisper. It’s him - his gravelly voice. He’s the voice that’s… “No-”

He lurches forward reaching out for you, and every instinct in your body tells you to fight. Yet, the movement is all too familiar-

Your gun is raised and he stalls, before, yelling, “KID, C’MON” as he runs for cover. You’re standing out in the open as gunfire ricochets around you. 

Every instinct tells you that this man is safe. But the memories of what the ghosts did to you are so overwhelming. So terrifyingly real that you can’t move. You desperately want to, but you just can’t. Your brain is too consumed with trying to piece together that you’re a Walker. 

Your dad is Elias. Your brothers are Logan and Hesh Walker. 

It’s only at the thought of them that you jolt back into action. Despite being willing participants in your torture, something doesn’t fit right. 

No, they didn’t- it wasn’t. You love them, they love- loved you. 

You’re surrounded by Federation soldiers, it’s too late for any escape with Merrick now. But it’s not too late to help them. You’re not entirely sure why you feel the need to help them after everything. It’s too scrambled to make sense so you push it out of your mind. 

“I’ve got you! You won’t fall!” 

A tear escapes you.

Some of the soldiers grab you, and you try shrugging them off, “don't touch me,” is all you manage. They chatter amongst themselves, organising a search for the Ghosts. Some of the men begin escorting you back down the way they came. You have a mission in mind; get to one of the surveillance rooms. 

—

The alarm is still blaring when you reach the surveillance room, it’s empty. You ask the guards to lock you in and stand watch so the ghosts can’t get to you. It’s not a convincing rouse, but they don’t question it too much. 

Inside the room, you try to calmly make your way to the observation deck, it’s small but it’s got enough controls that you might be able to be of some use. There’s only one man inside the room with you and he's relatively easy to disarm, even easier to immobilise. You’re not entirely sure how you did it, it was almost a reflex.

Ignoring the shouting coming from his radio, your eyes scan across the series of monitors in front of you. 

You find them quickly, they’re in one of the lower levels, two of them standing next to one of the doors that lead to an external tunnel that burrows into the nearest mountain. They’re trying to blow the door out with some sort of explosive, while two others are kickstarting a car to life. 

You can see the button that will open the door, but you press another, the one that locks the hanger door behind them just before Federation soldiers can burst through. 

You unlock the tunnel door, and open comms, “Go” is all you manage as the door springs open. One of the Ghosts shouts your name, and you hold back a sob. It’s Hesh. It’s your brother Hesh. 

The ghost standing next to him has to forcibly wrestle him into the car before they make their escape. You press another button and the door seals shut behind him. 

You destroy all the footage you can, but it won’t do anything. If they want to find it, they will. 

You’ve sentenced yourself to death for men who tried to kill you. For men who are your family. Rorke had given you a false name, he had redacted your information from the dossiers on the Walkers. 

He’d tried to erase you.

Nothing made sense, you’d seen the ghosts hurt you. You’d felt it and lived it for months and months and months. You’d never seen-

The door opens and Rorke stands on the threshold. 

You’re crying, breathing rapidly as you point the gun towards him, “Gabriel? What’s happening to me?” you feel like you’re shutting down. He’s going to look after you.

He’s going to kill you.

He puts his hands up, “We’ve got you, it’s alright”. 

You shake your head, “You lied to me. I’m-” he’s already crossed the distance between you and has lowered your gun. You’re shaking and you hate the conclusion that’s slowly forming in your head. The resolve that is building in you. 

“We’ve got a lot to talk about,” it’s soft, thinly threat. He nods his head towards the control panels that you’ve deactivated, “don’t we?’. 

You hate that another sob escapes you. How weak you are. 

“You don’t have to pretend you’re alright, kid” it’s his voice again. 

Rorke hauls you away, and you’re less concerned with your safety and find your thoughts drifting back to one, unmistakable fact. 

Rorke killed Elias. 

Rorke killed your father. 

[villianicious]

Creepy Aura

Not proofread yet. Pardon the mistakes for now.

Rating: EXPLICIT/MATURE/ 18+

Toji Fushiguro x reader/you

Warning: Smut, unprotected sex, language.

wc: ~1.2k

You can sense him. You could feel his intense gaze piercing through your core as you try to converse with a group of friends in front of a busy restaurant, waiting to be seated. You feel uncomfortable but not in a creepy sense. You just feel this sudden desire to run to wherever the hell he is and jump on his lap. And you know it's him! Only Toji can make you feel this awkward and hypervigilante in public without physically being there himself.

Suddenly the conversation around you turns into nonsensical babbles as you feel an invisible hand grab you by the waist and pull you backwards. You quickly turn around to see no one is behind you.

"You okay? It's almost our turn to get seated", you heard your friend try and grip you back to the real world. You felt her warm hands on your cold wrist.

You nod as she (unknowingly) pulled you out from that void you were being sucked into. The voices and chatter around you returned to normal; concise and coherent.

You enter the restaurant with goosebumps all over your body. A reminder that he is always watching.

————

As you and your friends finished dinner, you decided to skip the movies and apologized with the excuse of having period cramps.

You carried a small bag of leftovers for your man as you entered your tiny little apartment only a mile away.

As you opened the door to your apartment, you sighed at the sight. He was lying on the couch, watching some race that he probably bet half his earnings on with trash all over your living room rug.

"Hey babe. We need to talk", You started off gently.

Toji slowly sat up from the couch and looked at you with emotionless eyes. But you know those eyes carried a heavy burden.

"Shit....ya ya....I'm still looking for a job. You gotta gimme some time doll face", he said as he stared into your eyes, trying to judge on a scale of 1 to 10 how pissed you were. It looked like a 5. (The fact that you got him some dinner added an extra point) So there was a 50-50 chance he would get some tonight. He would bet on those odds.

You set your purse and his food on the dining table while walking towards him.

"No I don't care about that. You just need to stop following me around in public and spying on me. It's borderline creepy and distracting".

It wasn't so much creepy than it was distracting. His presence really disturbed the peace between your legs.

You leaned forward and began to collect the garbage off the floor of your living room.

"Oh that. Ya I was out and about ....um looking for a job and saw you. How ya know it was me?", he asked while watching but not helping.

"You were not looking for a job. And I can sense your creepy energy miles away. Don't know how and why. But I just can", you explained as you sat on the floor to dig under the couch for some trash.

Toji just grinned at the view. You were wearing a short skirt and a tank top. In this position he got a good view of your cherry print panties peeking out of your skirt. He felt a tug in his pants as he leaned back to enjoy the view.

"So my energy is creepy?"

"Toji...you are creepy. Mysterious and creepy. I swear you're a hitman or some assassin but you won't admit to that. Fair enough. Not a good hitman if the secret is out. And let's not get started on how many times a day I notice you creeping around my workplace".

"Babe...you know I'm just protecting you".

"Protecting me from what? What's after me? Another hitman?" you ask in frustration.

"No...other men", he admitted. However, that was half the truth. The remainder was a painful reality of his life which he did not want to get into.

"But admit it. You love it when I am watching you from the shadows. It turns you on.". He really went 'all-in' with that one. Risky move with his 50-50 odds.

"Toji!", you squeal when you feel his rough hands grab your ass. You try to push his hand away but he was quick to prove his point. He could feel moisture around your entrance through your panties.

"See babe! I was right", he grinned while raising his right hand to show his glistened finger tips.

"Oh fuck off!" You feel embarrassed as you get up and begin to walk away. But you feel a sudden grip on your wrist and a quick tug of your arm. And just like that you are trapped in an embrace, his muscular arms caging you in.

You sigh as you melt into his warm body. You felt his overprotective masculine energy engulf you and it made you weak at the knees.

"Let's take this to the bedroom", he whispers suggestively into your ears, his deep voice vibrating your eardrums. You swear you heard a soft moan escape your lips before he threw you across his right shoulder and carried you to the bedroom like a trophy.

————-

Toji never used the rubber. He preferred skin on skin and enjoyed the feeling of your warm wet insides hugging and milking his cock. He enjoyed the dirty wet sounds that came from the mixing of bodily fluids. He definitely enjoyed the feeling of dumping his seed deep inside your womb and watching it drip out as you walked away all fucked up. He was a filthy man. And he enjoyed the filthy sex.

"Come on babe. Don't suppress those moans. How would I know I'm hitting it right?", he teased while fucking you into the bed. Of course he was hitting it right on. He never missed his target.

You bite your tongue as you worry your neighbours would hear you. But Toji doesn't give a fuck who listens or watches when he was giving you pleasure. "Don't be shy. Fuck'n tell the world who's fucking your brains out woman!"

"To...ji...mmm fuck", you barely sound coherent as he literally fucks your brain to mush. Skin slapping, fluids leaking and tits bouncing. You feel a jolt in your lower abdomen as your body stiffens.

"Toji baby...I'm gonna cum", you warn him with tears of ecstasy in your eyes.

He feels your pussy tightly clamp down on his invading cock. He spits on his own thumb before lowering it down on your hard clit and massaging it in circles. You were just on the edge and that just threw you over.

"To...ji...fuck", you spill your release all over his cock as your body began to convulse in a rhythmic fashion.

He suddenly locked his lips against your parted lips as he kissed deeply while fucking out his own release. You feel his warm seed fill you in the most soothing way possible.

He finally pulls away from the kiss and looks down at the beautiful hot mess he just created.

"Toji?" You whisper while cuddling up against his chest. Exhausted and sore.

"Hmm?"

"Promise me you'll be careful? Whatever it is you do. And please never stop watching over me".

"Sure".

Not really a promise he could keep.

[sophie1973]

I am yours, you are mine (let's not fuck around)

Can be read HERE or under the cut

The girl looks familiar, but Henry can't place where he's seen her before..

It doesn't matter. He only cares because Alex has been engrossed in conversation with her for the past 15 minutes, all smiles, warm eyes, and subtle touches, and Henry's heart aches with a mix of envy and resentment.

He’s acutely aware that he has no right to feel this way, yet jealousy churns within him, deep and unsettling.

The thing is, it has been a bit weird between them since New Year’s Eve.

Since what was meant to be a chaste New Year’s Eve peck on the lips when the clock struck midnight had unexpectedly transformed into a ten-minute, full-blown make-out session.

Which had been brushed under the non-existent carpet in their shared flat on January 1 as if nothing significant had happened and blamed on the alcohol and the fact that they had both been painfully single for a while. And now Henry was supposed to go on with his life as if his best friend hadn’t shoved his tongue down his throat - a very skillful tongue, by the way. 10/10. No notes.

It’s one thing to quietly pine for your best friend, keeping your feelings hidden for the sake of the friendship. It’s another thing entirely to know firsthand what that best friend can do with his mouth and not be able to enjoy it on a regular basis. They had always been very affectionate, never thinking twice before hugging or cuddling on the couch during movie nights. Alex had come to terms with his sexuality a few years ago, before meeting Henry, so Henry had accepted that even if Alex was attracted to men, he wasn’t attracted to him. As long as he had Alex in his life, he was content with that.

But Alex, tonight, is a frustratingly perfect sight. Clad in black jeans and a white henley, his curls in charming disarray, he has the girl completely captivated. Henry can’t really blame her.

“Pretty sure this girl has done nothing to you, so why the glaring?” A voice resonates in his ear, and he turns around to meet the knowing smirk of his other best mate, Pez.

“I do not glare,” he instinctively denies, even though he knows it’s useless. Pez reads him like an open book and has figured out his feelings for Alex long ago.

“Could have fooled me,” Pez mutters, and Henry can’t help himself.

“Who is she? She looks familiar. Do you know her?”

Percy shoots him such a disbelieving look that Henry gets slightly defensive. “What?”

His friend lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I always brag about how smart my best mate is, and then you go and remind me how much of an oblivious sod you are as well sometimes.” It’s said with a gentle pat on his shoulder and in such an affectionate tone that Henry can’t get mad and snorts instead.

“Well, enlighten me, then.”

“Her name is Georgia. She’s a law student, hence how she knows our dear Alexander, and she’s from Australia.”

Henry frowns. “Ok, that doesn’t ring any bell.” 

“I also call her the Australian Henry,” Pez whispers conspiratorially.

“What?”

“Just look at her, darling.”

Following Pez's advice, Henry observes Georgia again, scrutinizing her sandy blond hair, porcelain complexion, blue eyes, and full lips stretched over a bright, gummy smile. She’s dressed in a soft blue sweater and a denim skirt. It strikes him then, noticing his own attire mirroring hers with a similar blue jumper and jeans.

I call her the Australian Henry.

Oh. Oh.

“No wonder our dear Alex seems so smitten,” Percy adds with a nod to the young student who’s currently laughing out loud at whatever Georgia told him.

Oh great, she’s funny too. Alex only ever laughs like that when Henry uses his sarcastic wits and…

The realization of what Pez implies hits him like a freight train, and he stumbles slightly backward, his hand gripping the table behind him to find some balance.

“And at last I see the light, and it's like the fog has lifted…” Pez starts singing, his face full of glee.

“I…No, it’s not…I mean…how…” Henry stammers, struggling to process the revelation. His brain refuses to cooperate, overwhelmed by the enormity of what this could mean. So he follows his first instinct: flee from the potential threat (the threat being, in this case, a broken heart. He doesn’t precisely fancy the idea.)

“It’s just a coincidence,” he asserts firmly. 

Pez's eyes roll with such intensity that Henry fears they might become permanently lodged in their sockets.

“Look, Hazza, We’re in America, so Land of the Free and all that. Do with that information what you will. You can keep your pretty head in the sand or decide Alex is worth taking a leap of faith. Your move, darling. Toodles!”

Henry shakes his head, feeling a blend of exasperation and fondness as he watches Percy depart. Deciding he needs a distraction from his preoccupation with Alex and the charming Australian, he heads to get another drink. Taking a sip, he winces at the overly sweet taste of the punch.

He should have stuck with his usual gin and tonic.

"Is it really that bad?"

Henry smiles as his classmate, Oliver, approaches and gestures at the drink. 

"Worse," he chuckles, setting the cup on a nearby table. Henry remembers Oliver is a member of the frat house hosting the party. He's also attractive, with brown hair, green eyes, and a kind smile. They'd met a few times, chatted after class or on campus, and exchanged notes, but they'd never really talked in a more casual setting.

"Where’s your boyfriend?"

"My... Oh, you mean Alex? He’s not my boyfriend—just my best mate. And roommate as well."

Something shifts in Oliver’s expression.

"Uh, I always thought, with how he looks at you..." Oliver's voice trails off, a hint of uncertainty in his tone as he steps closer. “Good to know I was wrong.”

Henry's brows knit together in confusion. "The way he looks at me?"

"Hey, I've only seen the two of you together a few times, so I just assumed… I'm happy to hear he’s not, though." Oliver's smile widens, his chuckle growing bolder. "I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while, but… So, how about we grab coffee sometime?"

Henry’s brain screeches to a halt for the second time that night. He really hopes this constant mental whiplash doesn’t leave him with permanent brain damage.

Amidst the turmoil in his mind, two distinct facts pierce through :  First, two different people have hinted at the possibility of Alex harboring a crush and/or deeper feelings for him. Second, Oliver's sudden proposition has caught him completely off guard.

"Actually, I drink tea," he responds a bit awkwardly. Oliver laughs as if Henry has said the most amusing thing.

It’s endearing.

Henry can't find a reason to say no. Yes, he knows he should consider what Percy and even Oliver said about Alex. Still, a part of him vehemently refuses to believe there’s any real possibility of it being true. That part of him always wins because hope often brings with it the risk of crushing disappointment.

Besides, Alex is a big boy. If— and that’s a big if— he really has feelings for Henry, surely he would mention it, right?

Henry opens his mouth, ready to accept Oliver’s offer.

"Ah, there you are!"

Both of them turn as Alex joins them, a broad grin on his face but an unusual glint in his whisky-colored eyes. He extends a hand towards Oliver. 

“Alex,” he says, his voice casual, carrying an undercurrent of something. 

“Oliver. We’ve met a few times, though.”

Alex doesn’t bother to reply, instead draping an arm around Henry's shoulder, a gesture he’s done countless times before. Still, this time, it feels different, especially when he says in that particular voice, “I was wondering where you disappeared to, Baby.”

Henry curses internally. Alex is always generous with terms of endearment, often calling people ‘sweetheart,’ but ‘Baby’ is reserved solely for Henry. And he both hates and adores how it turns his spine into jelly every single time.

But something about Alex’s sudden, timely appearance and his cheerfulness, which seems a bit too forced, doesn’t sit right with Henry.

He stiffens and crosses his arms. “I’ve been here the whole time,” he says a bit curtly, biting his lip to stop himself from mentioning that Alex had been talking to Georgia the entire time and didn’t seem to be looking for him very hard.

Alex’s smile fades slightly as he senses the shift in Henry’s demeanor, giving him a thoughtful look.

Leaning towards Oliver, Alex whispers a few words in his ear. To Henry’s utter astonishment, Oliver nods and says, “Of course, I understand, man,” and without sparing a second glance at Henry, he walks away, leaving the two of them alone.

What in the Bloody Hell...?

“What just happened?”

“He just wanted to fuck you.”

“He was asking me out for coffee, and I was about to say yes.”

Alex shrugs. “Coffee, fucking, same difference.”

Henry feels his irritation bubbling to the surface. Who does Alex think he is, flirting with some random girl, then pulling some ridiculous territorial stunt the minute he sees Henry talking to someone else?

“You don’t even know him. He’s one of the kindest guys I know,” Henry argues.

Alex's expression softens to something almost like pity, and seriously, what the fuck?

"Oh, Hen. Do you know that 32% of those 'nice guys' turn out to be serial killers?" Alex retorts.

Henry sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to rein in his aggravation. “You’re making that up.”

“Not even close. Law student, remember? I know my statistics. And as your best friend, I have to make sure you don’t end up on the ten o’clock news.”

Henry closes his eyes, torn between the urge to laugh at the absurdity of their conversation and to cry in frustration because, really, what is Alex’s deal?

“Whatever you say, Alex. I’m going home.”

He strides away without glancing back, done with the maze of mixed signals for tonight. As he steps out of the house and reaches for his phone to call a taxi, Alex catches up to him.

“Wait, you’re actually leaving?”

Henry ignores him. He just told him he was leaving; he sees no point in repeating himself.

“What did I do?” Alex asks, his voice tinged with genuine confusion and that Henry can’t ignore.

“I was having a nice chat with a guy - who happens to be a classmate, by the way - and you barged in and chased him away for no bloody reason!” 

“I told you…”

Anger rises back up in Henry’s throat, and he steps closer. “Oh, for Christ’s sake, Alex, do not give me that serial killer bullshit again. It makes no sense, and you know it. Go back to Georgia,” he spats. It’s probably a bit too spiteful, but he doesn’t really care at this point.

Alex frowns. “The State?” he asks with a look of bewilderment. “Why would I go there?”

“Oh my God. Not the State! The girl you’ve been talking to all evening. Because no one was rude enough to interrupt your conversation ?”

“Oh! She left with her boyfriend. I don’t think he would appreciate it if I tagged along.”

Henry’s anger falters at this tidbit of information. Not that it changes anything. So he desperately focuses back on his phone, still trying to call that stupid taxi.

“Hen, please,” Alex says, soft contrition coloring his voice. Henry hates himself a little for how those words tug at his heart, softening his ire. Staying mad at Alex for any significant length of time seems like an impossible task.

That part of his brain, the one that's hopelessly, irrevocably in love with his best mate, makes it all the more challenging. It’s maddening and endearing all at once.

Even more so when Alex catches one of his hands, his thumb caressing his knuckles in a soothing gesture and remorse evident in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep like this. I’m a fucking moron. But he was not good enough for you.”

There’s a tense silence for a moment, and then Henry can’t help but soften at his earnestness, even if he’s still confused. 

"How could you possibly know that? You barely talked to him for two minutes."

I don’t need to know him. I know you. You would be bored out of your fucking mind after twenty minutes.”

Henry sighs, turning his head away so Alex doesn’t see his anger dissolving into a reluctant smile he can’t fully suppress. 

“You are such a bloody nuisance,” he mutters, though there is no heat in his words.

“But I’m your nuisance, right?”  

He looks back at Alex, his breath catching in his throat. Beneath the humor in his voice, there is a vulnerability Henry hasn’t heard before - at least not directed at him - and something in his gaze is troubling and intoxicating.

Something in Henry snaps. Fueled by a sudden, almost reckless determination, he takes a leap of faith, hoping Alex will meet him halfway and not let him fall into the abyss.

With one hand firmly on his chest, Henry pushes Alex backward until his back presses against a sturdy tree. Gently cupping the back of Alex's head, he brings their faces closer, halting just as their lips are a mere millimeter apart. He offers Alex a moment to pull away, to say that he doesn’t share the same feelings.

Alex doesn’t. Instead, with a barely audible gasp, he leans forward and closes the distance between them, their lips finally meeting in a soft, tentative kiss at first.

 Henry’s heart races as he deepens the kiss, his hand sliding from Alex's chest to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. Alex responds in kind, his arms encircling Henry's neck as he leans into the kiss, all hesitation melting away. 

The world around them fades into a blur as Alex lets out a soft, needy moan. He pulls Henry impossibly closer; their bodies pressed together so tightly that it feels like their heartbeats merge into one. The kiss grows more intense and desperate as Henry’s hand slides into glossy, brown curls, tugging not so gently, and Alex growls.

“Fuck, baby,” He pants, and if Henry weren’t already half-hard, the urgency in Alex’s voice would have done the trick. “I need you in me like, yesterday.” 

A few whistles snap them back to the present, reminding them they are still in the middle of the street, engaged in something that could get them both arrested for extreme public indecency. Given the unexpected and exciting turn his evening has taken, jail is the last place Henry wants to end up tonight. Not when he has a large, comfortable bed at home where he plans to do very bad, unspeakable things to the gorgeous man still holding him.

“Right. Hold that thought,” Henry says to Alex, stepping back. Alex reluctantly lets him go, his eyes still smoldering with intensity. Henry shifts his attention to his phone's screen, forcing himself to concentrate on the task at hand instead of the fiery spark in Alex’s gaze.   

“Where’s that taxi?” Alex grumbles, breathless. Henry can’t help but feel a bit smug hearing the strain in his voice. He definitely plans to leave Alex completely speechless soon. Henry knows it's a formidable challenge, but he’s nothing if not determined—especially when it promises plenty of satisfying orgasms.

Obviously, they will need to have a conversation at some point, but Henry can only hope they are on the same page right now. After this night, their friendship will be irreversibly altered, opening up uncharted territory between them. However, something in Alex’s eyes, beyond the raw desire, suggests his feelings run much deeper than mere lust or the chance for a one-night stand.

“I still haven’t called it. I got sidetracked listening to you ramble on about stupid serial killer statistics.”

Alex grins. “Oh yeah, I totally made that up.”

Henry rolled his eyes. “No kidding,” he deadpanned, finally placing his order with a satisfied hum.

Alex, who seems unable to keep his hands to himself - and Henry already knew that, but not to that extent, obviously - comes behind him and wraps his arms around Henry’s waist, trailing his lips on Henry’s throat

“I meant what I said. I was a fucking moron.”

“You’ll hear no argument from me, love,” he replies, laughing at Alex’s indignant ‘Hey!’ but his laugh turns into a gasp when Alex slides a leg between Henry’s, his muscular Lacrosse player thigh pressing against his groin, creating a delicious friction.

Henry whimpers, his head leaning back on Alex’s shoulder as he feels Alex’s hand venture dangerously close to the waistband of his jeans, grazing the soft skin under his sweater. Henry thinks that if the taxi doesn’t arrive in the next two minutes, he will throw years of proper British education and etiquette through the window and have his wicked way with Alex in front of the whole bloody frathouse. 

“I’ve been dreaming of having your dick in my hand, my mouth, and my ass for months, baby,” Alex whispers against his throat, “Can’t blame me for being a little eager.”

“Do you hear me…ah!...complaining?” Henry exhales as he feels Alex’s tongue trace a fiery path on his neck, right at the sensitive spot beneath his ear.

With immense effort, Henry checks his phone and sees that the driver is one minute away. He disentangles himself from Alex, ignoring his protests. It doesn’t seem necessary to put on a show for the driver.

The journey to their flat is brief, filled with shared smiles and knowing glances. They refrain from touching, afraid of scarring the driver if they only lose a fraction of the control they struggle to maintain.

Once in their apartment, though, all bets are off.

The front door is barely shut before Henry shoves Alex against it, their lips crashing together in a searing kiss. His hands slip beneath Alex’s henley, fingers grazing over his stomach's firm, soft muscles. Alex emits a shaky groan, and Henry revels in the sound, feeling slightly intoxicated by the power he now holds over the man he has adored from a distance for so long.

Henry steps back, pulling Alex by his waistband while skilfully unbuttoning it, and they make their way to the bedroom, leaving a trail of discarded clothes behind them until they find themselves naked, standing by Henry’s bed.

Henry’s heart races as he pauses to look into Alex’s eyes, his gaze soft and filled with want. They stand close, skin against skin, the room around them quiet and serene, encapsulating them in a comforting bubble. Henry gently brushes a stray curl from Alex’s forehead, and Alex smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners—an expression that always makes Henry’s breath hitch. Alex wraps an arm around Henry’s waist, his hand cupping Henry’s cheek as they share another kiss, their bodies melding seamlessly together.

"Are you sure?" Henry asks, giving Alex one last chance to change his mind. Truth be told, if Alex does, Henry isn't sure his heart could handle it. Now that he has had a taste of Alex, freely roaming his hands over Alex's gorgeous body, the thought of returning to their previous status quo feels unbearable.

The devoted, warm look in Alex’s eyes reassures him immediately. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life, Baby.”

Henry shivers at the pet name because it definitely holds a more profound, intimate meaning now.

Henry takes his hand, and they both kneel on the bed, facing each other. He gasps Alex’s name as his fingers trail down his side before reaching their intended target and wrapping around Henry’s cock, pulling a noise from his chest he’s never heard before. It’s been a while since he had a hand that wasn’t his own, and the fact that it belongs to Alex sends pure electricity throughout his body. Alex grins against Henry’s mouth as he says in a gravelly voice, “I want you to fuck me so hard I have to bite the pillow so nobody hears my screams.”

Henry bites his lip, long, slow swoops of desire curling in his belly. “What if I want to hear you scream?”

Alex smirks. “Well, bring it on, then, Sweetheart. Lube?” 

"Drawer on the right," Henry pants, and Alex reaches toward the nightstand, grabbing the bottle. They don’t mention condoms since they are both clean, and neither had engaged in any encounters since their most recent medical tests.

He hears a soft thud followed by a heartfelt "Shit!" from Alex.

"What?"

"I dropped the bottle."

Alex leaps off the bed, and Henry watches as he disappears, crouching next to it on his knees. "It rolled under," Alex informs him. "I can't find it."

Henry listens to Alex cursing as he fishes under the bed with his arm. Unable to contain his laughter, Henry says, "God, you're a bloody disaster," feeling his heart swell with love for the naked dork next to him.

He’s not letting the night end without professing those words to Alex, consequences be damned.

"You know, there's this thing called a vacuum cleaner, Hen. You've got a whole colony of dust bunnies under here," Alex comments casually, despite them being moments away from a significant shift in their relationship. Henry snorts.

"I'll take your advice under consideration, darling.”

“Aha!” A triumphant shout erupts as Alex reappears, holding the offending bottle. It is indeed covered in dust, as is Alex’s arm and hand.

“Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back,” he says, jogging to the bathroom. Henry hears water running before Alex returns, handing the now-clean bottle to Henry, seated on the bedspread. 

"Thank you, love. Now, on your hands and knees."

Alex grins and eagerly complies. "Bossy."

Henry keeps his expression neutral, raising an eyebrow. "Is that a problem?"

Alex's grin falters slightly as he gulps. "No."

Henry smirks and pinches one of Alex’s buttocks, making him moan deeply. "Good boy," Henry purrs, the sound sending a thrill through him. He opens the bottle, squeezing some onto his hand. He spreads Alex’s cheeks, bringing a finger to his rim, and rubs the tip softly, almost teasing but not quite.

He’s savoring the moment.

Alex’s breath stutters as he reaches to brace a hand on the headboard, pushing back against Henry’s hand. Henry methodically presses in one finger, then another, maintaining a leisurely pace.

"You can add another, baby, I’m ready," Alex pleads, desperation tinting his voice.

Henry smiles sweetly. "It’s adorable that you think you have a say in this, darling."

"I’m not above begging, you know."

"Then let’s hear it," Henry murmurs. 

Alex shoots him a heated look, a mix of exasperation and desire. "You’re such an asshole."

Still, Henry takes pity on him, adding a third finger and sliding deeper, preparing him, opening him. With the next thrust, Henry finds his prostate, eliciting a cry of pure pleasure from Alex.

"Oh fuck, yes! Right there…Oh, God."

Henry hums, leaning in to kiss Alex’s shoulder. “Henry’s fine.”

Alex huffs. “You’re not as funny as you think, Sweetheart.”

"Good. I wasn't aiming to make you laugh. Didn't someone mention something about screaming my name?" Henry teases.

He senses Alex shivering beneath him, and his stomach flutters at the sultry gaze Alex directs his way from under those fucking eyelashes. He puts a caressing hand on Alex’s buttock, spreading the cheek as he takes his cock in hand, the anticipation of being soon buried into Alex’s heat making his skin tingle.  

"Wait, baby, I want to see you." Alex requests.

Henry retreats, and Alex turns over, lying on his back with his legs spread open, inviting Henry to crawl back over him. They share a tender smile.

"Hi," Henry greets, unable to conceal a gummy smile at the sight of Alex spread eagerly beneath him.

"Hey yourself."

"Are you ready?"

"Do your worst," Alex replies cheekily, making Henry snort.

All traces of humor vanish quickly as Henry slides in, pushing to the hilt in one sleek motion. They both let out a keening moan. Henry leans in, his tongue tracing Alex’s bottom lip, and Alex lifts his head, pressing his mouth to Henry’s in a hungry kiss. 

Henry withdraws almost entirely before smoothly reentering with a single deliberate motion, drawing a groan from deep in his throat that echoes Alex’s gasp at the friction. Alex digs his heels into Henry's lower back, arching up to meet his every thrust, ensuring their bodies remain intimately connected. Henry responds with a throaty whimper as Alex's movements drive him in deeper. The slow thrusts, paired with Alex’s cock trapped between their bodies, create intense pressure.

“Fuck, Hen, I’m going to—” Alex's voice cracks as he nears his peak, the overwhelming sensation turning his cry into a sob. Henry slides a hand between them to stroke him through it, murmuring praise against Alex’s gasping mouth.

“You feel incredible, love,” Henry gasps, his voice thick with emotion.

“I want you to come inside me,” Alex breathes.

Henry’s thrusts intensify, becoming deeper and harder, each thrust driving him closer to the edge. It only takes a few minutes until the heat spirals low in his belly, blood thrumming through his veins. The pleasure that explodes behind his eyes is blinding, a kaleidoscope of sensations so potent and overwhelming that it steals his breath away, 

Henry collapses next to Alex, who instantly turns towards him, draping a leg over Henry’s thighs and an arm across his chest. As they both catch their breath, Henry hopes the wonder in Alex’s eyes mirrors his own. Their fingers intertwine over Henry's chest, and Henry keeps his gaze fixed on Alex, admiring how his eyelashes flutter prettily against his cheeks as he fights to stay awake. An exhale escapes Henry's lips, a contented sound mingling with the heady scents enveloping them— the musk of sweat, the lingering trace of their lovemaking, and that indescribable, intoxicating essence uniquely Alex.

For a few minutes, they doze off, basking in the afterglow, their breath synchronizing until the stickiness on Henry’s stomach becomes uncomfortable. Henry softly presses a kiss to Alex’s forehead and gently caresses his arm to rouse him. “We should clean up, love.”

“M’comfy,” Alex mumbles, shifting his leg and brushing against Henry’s cock, which, to Henry’s surprise, twitches with interest.

"Seems someone is eager for another round," Alex teases playfully, one eye cracking open to reveal a mischievous glint.

"Do you think there's enough space for both of us in the shower?" Henry quips, raising an eyebrow as amusement dances in Alex's gaze.  He’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

Alex's eyes light up with mischief. "Only one way to find out," he declares, seizing Henry’s hand and tugging him toward the bathroom.

They step into the bathroom, and soon, the sound of rushing water fills the air. They both manage to squeeze into the surprisingly spacious shower, warm water cascading over their bodies.

Henry wraps his arms around Alex, pulling him close until they are pressed together under the spray. "Looks like I was right," Henry murmurs, his voice low and playful.

Alex grins, tracing a finger along Henry's jawline. "You're right more often than I like to admit," he teases, tipping his head back to let the water soak his hair.

With a sly smile, Henry leans in, capturing Alex's lips in a slow, passionate kiss before Alex falls on his knees, taking his sweet, sweet time to take Henry apart, and Henry sighs blissfully, his heart swelling with love at the care and devotion in Alex’s every touch. 

Once done with the shower and having dried themselves, Henry climbs back on the bed, ready for a cuddling session with his boyfriend - yes, he’s aware they haven’t labeled it yet or even properly talked. Still, to be honest, he’s already planning his proposal in his head. He’s that far gone, and he is absolutely fine with it.

But Alex doesn’t follow him, lingering in all his naked glory next to the bed, a look of uncertainty on his face, and Henry’s heart stops for a second.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, a tremor in his voice, suddenly wary of what Alex might say, of having completely misread what happened between them.

“Should I…I mean…Do you want me to go back to my room?” Alex asks tentatively, his vulnerability tugging at Henry's heartstrings.

Henry’s heart breaks a little because he’s familiar with Alex’s dating history, his struggle with his ADHD, and how it has affected most of his relationships. His partners deemed him ‘too much’ after a few weeks, sometimes even a few days. The irony is that what those people saw as flaws are some of the numerous reasons why Henry loves Alex so deeply.

He’s not too much. He’s absolutely perfect. And Henry will make sure that Alex hears it every day for the rest of their lives.

“What I want is for you to bring your gorgeous ass back to bed with me and not go back to your room tonight. Or ever, preferably.”

Relief floods Alex's features, his lips curling into a smile as he swiftly joins Henry under the covers. Their bodies fit together seamlessly like puzzle pieces, seeking closeness and comfort. Henry's hand glides in lazy patterns over Alex's back as they nestle together, Alex nuzzling his nose against Henry's neck, peppering soft kisses along his throat.

“Hen?” Alex’s voice breaks the silence.

“Mmmh?”

“Just to put it out there…” Alex's voice wavers with a mix of nerves and sincerity. 

Encouraged by Henry's loving smile, Alex takes a deep breath, his eyes fixed on Henry with intent. A slow smile spreads across his face as if reaching a decision.

“I love you.”

Henry’s smile matches his own, and a happy laugh bubbles out of his chest. Leave it to Alex to pour out grand declarations immediately after their first night together. Henry is so in love with this man that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

“I love you too, darling,” he whispers against Alex’s lips.

They will have time tomorrow to have a deeper conversation, but at this moment, as their mouths come together in a fervent kiss, no other words are necessary.

.

[ithelicorice]

🎾🦝 taso tennis

[yut-art]

Adventreebark- win/lose

um yeah they died in this one sorry 🤷‍♀️

[baku-usagi]

@breadedsinner i can draw man tiddy but not pancake or pan or spatula :C you win some you lose some

[ticenchantedtoc]

i'd like to see Pierre!

Perfect timing! I just finished a doodle of his cursed form:

I want to draw more of him at normal size (and in his normal outfit) too and maybe smth of him with Belle to actually show that size difference, but this is what I have for now!

[stranger-chichka]

[sttoru]

sukunas fav concubine being bullied by the other concubines?? maybe they push her into the fountain 👀👀👀

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. being bullied because you’re sukuna’s favorite concubine is nothing out of the ordinary. when sukuna finally notices the harassment you’re going through, he doesn’t hold back.

wc. 2.2k-ish

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff, angst (hurt to comfort). heian era. bullying. one mention of d.ecapitation. vile language. reader gets called ‘brat’. beta reading? what’s that

“she’s got nothing going on for her,” “right? i don’t get what he sees in her,” “tch—he’s only using her for her body anyway,” “duhh. he can’t be pleased by her looks. i mean, she’s really ugly. i bet he thinks of her as just ‘nother hole to use. . .”

and the shushed gossips continue. the concubines hanging around the garden have noticed your arrival, though do nothing to stop badmouthing you. they couldn’t care less if you hear what they say.

you’re used to it by now. you’ve adjusted to this life of yours as one of sukuna’s concubines. his favourite at that—which automatically makes you a victim of verbal (and sometimes physical) harassment. the other women in the ruthless sorcerer’s harem can’t stand you.

your eyes are glued to the path you’re walking on. your lady-in-waiting doesn’t utter a single word as well, holding her head low as she follows behind you. you know that the concubines will immediately pick on you if you make eye contact with one of them.

it’s moments like these where you actually miss sukuna. his intimidating presence and (in)direct threats would immediately make the others fall silent. you wouldn’t have to hear them call you nasty names.

though, unlucky you, sukuna’s out on business. uraume is left as a temporary supervisor of the entire estate. to make sure nothing goes wrong. despite all of that, you still find yourself in an unfortunate predicament.

“hey. we’re talking to you,” a female voice rings from behind you. it isn’t your lady-in-waiting, but the brown-haired woman whom you recognise as one of sukuna’s concubines. her name. . . you can’t recall.

she forcefully pushes your shoulder with two fingers. you stumble backwards, nearly tripping over the material of your kimono. you look down at the hem and notice a subtle muddy stain on the cloth now that you’ve accidentally stepped on it.

you curse the woman out under your breath. the kimono is one of your favorites since sukuna had it made and tailored to suit your taste.

“my apologies,” you mumble politely. you do not wish to make a scene as much as you want to defend yourself. not in front of those poor servants who are simply minding their business and tending to the garden.

the lady scoffs. another one joins. soon, four of them surround you, leaving you no place to escape the situation. with every step you take back, they take one forward. it’s intimidating, though you try to make it seem like you’re not afraid of their words.

“tell me,” the blonde one speaks up and her hand trails up your arm. she twirls a strand of your hair around her index finger before harshly tugging at it. you wince, but she doesn’t budge, “tell me what sukuna sees in a worthless slut like you.”

it’s about sukuna every time. you’re getting sick of the way they treat you because of something you can’t control. you don’t know why he favors you out of all the other women at his service. the way you’re treated because of something that you cannot change is getting frustrating.

the brown-haired woman follows the other lady. she pushes you until the back of your shoe bumps against the edge of a fountain. the grande fountain in the yard that you always love to admire.

the tugs at your hair get stronger. your patience is wearing thin. you take some time to reply to the other concubines, hoping to silence them for now.

you look up at the group surrounding you—a grin tugging at your lips as you decide to taunt them. you scoff, “hah. you cannot blame me for satisfying my lord better than all of you could do together.”

audible gasps sound from the group of concubines. they can’t believe you had the audacity to talk back and be disrespectful about it. the comment you made clearly struck a nerve. or in this case multiple.

“oh, you slut!” the blonde one shrieks, clearly more than upset by your doubts about her services as a concubine. in a flash of rage, she gives you a firm push, sending you backwards until you fall into the fountain with a loud splash.

your lady-in-waiting is the one gasping this time. she looks at you with great worry in her eyes, not knowing if she needs to go fetch uraume or not. she doesn’t have much say in the matter either way.

you’re humiliated by this. you can feel the water seep into the robes of your kimono, staining the beloved material. your hair is wet as well, the water droplets falling off the ends of your locks.

“pah, you look pathetic,” one of the lower ranking concubines chimes in—giggling at the unfortunate situation you got yourself in. the others follow with their own high pitched laughs, “serves you right.”

you don’t even know what you should do. your body feels heavy because of the water wetting your clothes. your nails drag along the fountain’s surface, trying to compose yourself before you do anything irrational.

you grit your teeth and take a deep breath. you’re shaking, both because of the cold settling over your body as well as the anger simmering inside of you. you open your mouth to say something, only to be interrupted.

by someone you didn’t expect to see any time soon.

“enough.”

the deep tone sends chills down your spine. the volume of the male voice nearly shakes the ground. it’s powerful, dominant and quite aggressive. as if the owner of the voice is pissed. no, more than that.

the group of concubines freeze, not even daring to turn around and face the unexpected visitor. you notice your lady-in-waiting immediately falling to her knees, bowing at the man whom you know very well.

“my lord,” you stammer out, being the first to speak up and address him. you’re surprised to see sukuna back this early from his business trip. he normally stays away from the estate for days on end.

sukuna’s footsteps are heavy. his strides are menacingly slow. the aura surrounding him makes the others shake—one concubine being smart enough to bow to him. the king of curses is not one to be messed with, especially when he’s angry.

“tsk. have you lost all your respect while i was gone?” sukuna growls, seeing how the group of concubines are frozen in place with fearful expressions on their faces. the fact that they’re not bowing before him worsens his temper, “kneel.”

he raises one hand and they all knew what was going to happen. you squeal and shut your eyes, hearing that familiar and dooming sound of slashes around you. it doesn’t sound like they’ve hit anything, so you peek through your eyelashes.

you see how the group of women have dropped to their knees the instant sukuna raised his hand in that specific manner. everyone knew just what that meant; death to anyone who’s got their head held high in his presence.

you’ve all seen enough people get decapitated by that same action to know that the sorcerer was not playing around.

sukuna scoffs. he walks up towards you, ignoring the pleas of the other concubines that are begging for his forgiveness. his bottom set of eyes look down at them with disdain before focusing on your figure again.

he silently stands still at the edge of the fountain. his large frame looms over you and you find yourself struggling to get up from the water to bow at him as well. you keep your eyes on your lap, “i’m sorry, my lord.”

sukuna hisses at your apology. a warning for you to shut your mouth. you’re apologising when it’s not your fault and that irritates him more than anything. two of his strong arms reach down to pick you up from your vulnerable position.

the king of curses hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. he’s not bothered by the fact that you’re dripping wet. in fact, both of his left arms wrap around your torso in attempt to warm you up.

“stay. you’ll all be dealt with accordingly when i return,” sukuna harshly orders your aggressors as he turns around and walks away from the group. he carries you in his arms, not sparing a single glance at his concubines.

he doesn’t even care that he stepped on one of the women’s hands as he passed by. the high pitched shriek only serves to annoy him, which you notice by the way he squeezes your waist in response.

it’s silent between you two for a bit. sukuna steps inside of the estate, his ominous aura making you hesistant to speak. you decide to stay quiet for the sake of keeping the peace. for now.

sukuna’s breathing is a little heavy. he’s trying not to lash out or say anything hurtful. he doesn’t like raising his voice at you—but sometimes he feels like he needs to. especially when you land in situations like those.

“how long has this been going on?” sukuna asks through a heavy sigh. his red eyes are focused on the end of the hallway, where his chambers lay. the veins in his neck look like they could pop out any second now, “and don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me, y’hear?”

you gulp. you’ve never been so nervous to answer him, ever. you attempt to respond, “uhm, for quite a while, my lord.”

sukuna breathes in sharply at the revelation. the fact that you did not specify your answer only made him think that it’s worse than you’re making it out to be. he stops in his tracks, two hands on your waist as he forces you to face him.

your body dangles in the air as sukuna makes you look at him from up close, showing you that dangerous look in his eyes. you do not dare to avert your gaze from his as he speaks.

“you should’ve told me the moment they started disrespecting you like that,” sukuna grunts. another big hand grabs your jaw firmly, squeezing your cheeks together. you whine as it hurt a little. he scoffs and releases your jaw with a light push, “pathetic.”

you feel your body get thrown into your original position once more. your head is upside down and your legs hang limply over his shoulder. you try to defend yourself in a quiet tone, “i thought you were too busy. i didn’t want to bother you with such unimportant matters.”

it’s true. as much as you wanted to tell sukuna about the mistreatment you were receiving, you knew how busy he was attending to more urgent business. you didn’t want to annoy him with your own problems that you could easily solve.

if only you could stand up for yourself.

“nonsense,” sukuna raises his voice in a moment of weakness, though remembers that you’ve probably been through enough for the day. he doesn’t need to add to that by treating you like shit as well.

he simply sighs it off, “unimportant, huh? ‘s that how you think i view you?”

you raise an eyebrow at sukuna’s last sentence. you’re at a loss for words. you know sukuna values you more than any of his other concubines—it’s the main reason you’re getting bullied for—yet you never heard him speak to you in such a surprisingly soft way.

almost like he’s disappointed that you don’t realise the extent of his favoritsm. he cares about you more than you actually think he does.

“i-i’m sorry, my lord,” you stutter. you really do not have a clue about what to say. all you can do is apologise as you’re left overthinking that one little sentence he said.

“what a brat,” sukuna quickly regains his usual stoic and stern composure. he reaches his chambers and enters his personal bathroom before putting you down on your feet. he looks down at your short stature, feeling the warmth of your body leave his skin once you’re separated.

sukuna watches you shiver. he wants to get angry at you for not telling him about anything that’s been going on while he’s not present, though he simply cannot at the moment.

he’ll let you off the hook for now. but, he’s surely going to give you your own special scolding after he’s taken care of the other concubines. the man grabs a large towel from nearby and messily wraps it around your upper body.

sukuna turns around to walk out of his bathroom, looking over his shoulder once more, “get dressed into something else before you catch a cold.”

he calls for a couple servants to tend to you while he’s away to take care of those deviant concubines. sukuna watches the three maids rush to your service, preparing you a new set of clothes as well as trying to dry you off.

his gaze lingers on you for more than is necessary, his jaw clenching at the sight of you trembling from the low temperatures you’re experiencing. sukuna’s going to make sure those other women pay for what they’ve done to you.

he leaves the bathroom after that, though not without leaving you an order to follow;

“you’re staying in my chambers tonight.”