#and like i had a feeling it'd flop? like i have followers who are used to drabbles and like 4k fics

[banggyu0308]

gonna be honest w y'all in the tags of this one

[your-next-daydream]

Glitching lust

Fizzaroli and Asmodeus x reader

Summary: What happens after Fizz gets captured by Crimson and even after Asmodeus's public love confession during his stand-off with Mammon? Asmodeus is worried about his froggie, so he hires a body guard to follow them around.

A/N: I'll make more than one part if anyone wants it. I just wanted more of Fizz and Ozzie x reader, so I did it myself.

This is targeted towards more masculine readers, but it will be gender neutral for everyone. I will attempt to keep this as neutral as possible pertaining to the readers' looks since it is a reader insert. That being said, the reader, you, are an imp and incubus hybrid.

Incubus: male demon who feeds off the sexual nature of others.

Succubus: female demon who feeds off the sexual nature of others.

I will be using the term incubus due to this being targeted towards masculine readers, but that will be the only term to “hint” at the readers gender.

A bit of back story:

You, the reader, have a past in being a dancer at clubs to gather money when you were old enough in hell but after a bit of discovery you found you liked being a gaurd or a body gaurd much more than you liked the tainted lust of others watching you dance for a buck or two. For a few years, you did freelance bodygaurding or just took up a job where someone was hiring for their club. After seeing an advertisement for I.M.P. and seeing an article about how the boss of the Immediate Murder Professionals himself guarded one of Asmodeus's performers at Mammon's annual clown fest, you decided to send in an application to I.M.P. luckily for you, the resume you had spoke for you and you were hired.

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Fizzaroli stares at Asmodeus with his eyes slightly squinted to stare up at the sin. “You want to…what?” He sighed, zipping up to sit on the island in their shared kitchen.

“I just think some extra security would be good for you, Froggie.” He said slowly, flipping over the pancake in the pan that he was cooking. “Mammon was right about one thing, and not that I regret doing what I did. I'm just more worried about your safety than before.” He flipped the pancake again before sliding it into the already growing pile next to the stove.

Fizz watched him making breakfast thinking about what he was saying, he understood why Ozzie wanted him to have some extra security but, “I don't wannaaaaa-” He dragged out the syllables flopping down dramatically on his back on the island reaching for his coffee mug.

Ozzie sighed, putting down his cookware and turning to him, crossing his arms and leaning against the stove top. One side of his mouth was curled up. No matter how serious he wanted him to take this, he couldn't find himself to be upset with his antics. “Just think about it, okay, Fizzie? You like going out a lot, so it'd just make me feel better knowing if someone was there when I can't be.” He pushed himself off the counter with his hip strolling over to where he was splayed over the island.

Pushing his legs apart with his own, he slotted himself there, uncrossing his arms to gently place them on the island on each side of Fizzaroli's hips. “I worry for you out there as it is,” he paused looking away for a moment his bottom lip finding its way between his teeth as he looked back to Fizz his eyes a bit downcast, “But now there's even more of a threat to you now that we've been made public.”

Clearing his throat from the embarrassment at the position he was in and to clear some other thoughts, he leaned up on his elbows, reaching one hand up to press against the side of his face. “I'll think about it, Ozzie. I've been dealing with fans for a while. And after the thing with Mammon and also me and Blitz getting captured…I understand your worries.” He nodded his head, making up his mind. “I'll let you look into it, and we can go from there.”

He leaned into the hand on the side of his face, a soft smile replacing some of the worry that was left lingering there. He moved one of his hands to cup the one Fizz had on his face. “Thank you,” he pushed his face down into the crook of the smaller man's neck leaning to whisper into his ear, “Froggie.” He then leaned back up to press a kiss to his lips, staying like that for a moment before pulling away. Fizz had leaned up, trying to follow his lips, but he'd already turned away.

He chuckled lowly as he made his way to the plate of pancakes. “Now! We have a long day ahead of us, so pancakes!” He picked up the plate with a stack of the fluffy aforementioned breakfast food walking over to pick up Fizz with the other arm before making his way to the table.

“Pancakes pancakes pancakes!” He chanted as he was picked up and walked to the table, looking up at Asmodeus admiring his features. Though he did notice while the sin himself had a soft smile on his face, the faces in his fiery mane reflected the worry he'd expressed earlier. That made part of his smile tug down a little. “Is he that worried…?” He thought to himself before shaking his head, focusing on the moment.

Asmodeus sat down in the head chair moving Fizzaroli to sit in his lap as he set the plate down moving another empty one in front of him as he pulled a few off the stack with a fork piling it with syrup before handing it to Fizz with a smile.

He piled his own plate with the same treatment, taking a bite with a self-satisfied sigh. “Alright we have a few things in order for today. Firstly I was thinking if you'd like a new uniform it'll look similar it will just match the colors of my club a lot better.”

Fizz watched as he took another bite before sliding in his own comment. “You mean match your colors better.” The way he said it wasn't a question, just a statement as he looked up at him suggestively taking a bite off his own plate watching the sin sputter.

“Well I mean…yes.” He cleared his throat, looking for his mug as he realized he had left it on the counter.

Fizz looked at the mug, extending one of his arms over there to grab the handle before quickly retracting it back and holding it up to Ozzie with a wink. “Do I make you thirsty, Ozzie?” He laughed at his own sexually charged pun watching Asmodeus take the mug with a huff, not missing the smirk he hid behind the rim of the glass.

He set his mug back down watching as Fizz then leaned for it again taking a drink of his own and he smiled fondly at that knowing he could have extended to grab his own mug that wasn't much farther from where his was originally.

“Like I was saying, the design won't be changed much, and you'll be overseeing the alterations. I'd like for your attire to match the club scene a bit more rather than the so-called “circus” Mammon had going on, but that's completely up to you.” He snapped his fingers pulling out a agenda and a pair of reading glasses appeared on his face (don't take this headcanon away from me) as he flipped through the pages pulling a pen out to write something else. “I'll be calling one of my assistants to host something to find a candidate for one of your guards. Hopefully, they'll be able to pull something together today. I've been talking to them about it since you…got taken from me.” He paused for a moment before quickly getting back on track.

Fizz felt bad that he had to pause for a moment while talking about it, and he nodded along, picking at his pancakes with his fork before taking another bite. His mind wandered a bit, thinking back to the scare he had while being taken but then shook his head to clear that train of thought. He listened intently at the mention of a new uniform thinking about what he'd like. He knew Ozzie would listen to him about his ideas, so he didn't have any worries about that. He was worrying about the body gaurd ordeal, though.

“I'd hire Blitz, but he's too busy running his company.” Was what Fizz heard after snapping himself out of his thoughts. “Though after it got out that I had him protecting you at Mammon’s show, he tells me he's gotten a few new hires. So I may be able to recruit someone from I.M.P if having an imp gaurd would make you more comfortable?” He questioned, looking down to Fizzie, noticing his eyes were glazed over in thought. “Hey…” He brought a hand away from his writing to hold the side of his face. “You alright, sweet thing?” He questioned softly that smooth voice of his bringing Fizzaroli back with a snap.

He quickly nodded, his head leaning away to take a bigger bite. “It just seems like a hassle, that's all. I mean, I'm just an imp. I really don't think it would be that big of a deal.” He rambled before looking back to Ozzie going silent at the serious look on his face. “You were stolen from me by an imp, for an imp. They know how much I'd risk getting you back. That's why I'm worried and think this should be necessary. The Imp, Crimson, who stole you was from a mafia in the greed ring. I don't have as much power there, and Mammon didn't seem to care that it happened under his watch. I will not let that happen again under my own.” He took a breath, calming himself down. “I'm sorry, Fizz, I'm just worried.”

Meanwhile, at I.M.P….

Moxie was in the arms room showing the new hire where his belongings would go and giving him a tour of everything else in the room.

Walking over to one of the lockers, you put your own weapons in where they went and slid the bag you had slung over your shoulder to the bottom. You'd been hired about a month ago and over those weeks before and during that month you'd been assessed. Before coming to I.M.P, you'd been a body gaurd for a few of the higher up clubs.

“Thank you for showing me around, Moxie, but I think I've got it from here.” You nodded your head at the shorter male, closing your locker and sliding the lock in with a ‘click’ before walking to the door, holding it open for him, and then following behind him.

He nodded his head in return. “Well if you need anything, you can come to any of us or Loona if we aren't here. Your bigger outings with us should be rolling in soon.” He held up a thumbs up before walking off.

Walking over to the lounge area, you flopped down on the couch, minding the leathery wings sprouting from your back as you did so. Pulling out your phone, you scrolled mindlessly for a while, occasionally looking up at hearing movement.

An hour or so later, you heard the front phone go off, seeing as Loona was…Lucifer knows where you walked over to pick up the phone. “I.M.P here how can we help you?” You asked hearing some movement on the other end before a different voice replied.

“Yes is this Blitz? This is Fern calling on behalf of Asmodeus.” Eyes widening for a moment at the idea the sin wanted something from I.M.P. you responded quickly. “No this is not Blitz he's out, but I can take a message for him if that would be fine?” You asked politely, waiting for a response.

“Asmodeus wishes to recruit a body gaurd from his establishment. Do you know when he'd be in?” You took a glance over at the time sheet, realizing he'd left over an hour ago. “He'll be back in a few moments. I'll tell him to call you back when he arrives.” You both continued talking for a little longer before cutting the call.

Walking back over to the couch, you awaited your boss to return with a few of the newer recruits that had more training in assassination than you did. You wondered for a moment if he'd send you to the interview since you had more gaurd training than the rest. You brushed that off with a shrug, pulling your phone back out.

A little while later, you heard a portal open up in the other room, and Blitz talking to the rest about some pointers but saying they did good otherwise. “Alright kiddos lock your stuff up where it goes. I'll be back in a minute.” He closed the armory door behind him, spotting you on the couch. “Where's Loonie?” He asked. You stood up, pocketed your phone, and walked over to him, looking down at him. “She texted, saying she went out for a call.” You pulled a piece of paper out of your pocket handing it to him. “Asmodeus's secretary called asking about a body gaurd job and to call that number when you returned.” You repeated the person had said and watched him huff taking the paper.

“Immediate murder professionals not Immediate gaurd professionals. If it comes to it, would you take the job? You did body gaurding before, right?” He looked up somewhat hopefully.

“Yep, mostly club guarding, but I've been hired all around. But for a job like that, shouldn't you hire someone you trust more? And there will probably be others in the line up anyways.” You questioned, tilting your head.

He shrugged. “Nah! Your resume speaks for you well enough that I'd be fine sending you in our name. Let me go talk to the person and I'll get back to you.”

A while of doomscrolling later…

“Well! Looks like you have another interview, newbie!” Blitz shouted excitedly, walking over to hand you a paper with a time and a place on it. “You'll be paid by the hour, and then some of the percentage goes to me, but we can talk about that when you return later if you get the job!” He explained with a grin, raising an eyebrow when you looked at him expectantly. “What?”

You tilted your head, looking at the paper before looking back up at him. “When is it?” You didn't see a date on the paper, so you thought he may have forgotten.

“Ohhhh, it's today. Better get moving. You only have two hours to get to the lust ring!” He laughed at your expression before walking off.”

“Damn I guess Asmodeus really needs a bodyguard…why would a king of Sin need a gaurd though…” you thought before jumping over the couch to get to the armory tail flickering in irritance behind you at the time constraint as you grabbed your belongings and made your way to the door.

After nearly missing the train to the lust ring and having to deal with the small space, you made your way to the building, noticing a line outside.

The line mostly consisted of people just wanting to meet the Sin, some who looked like they had some experience, and then a couple of others. Rolling your eyes, you got in line bag slung over your shoulder resume at the ready scowling at some people who got a bit too close. “Just because we're in the lust ring doesn't mean you need to get close an’ personal.” You thought to yourself with a groan.

After a while, you noticed some people being turned away at the top of the line, and then the rest was led to another room. At your turn, you saw the person in front of you walking into that room before turning your attention to the man with the clip board in front of you. “Resume please.” He asked, holding a hand out. You handed it to him, watching him look over it for a few minutes before he handed it back with a nod. “Go into that room.” You raised an eyebrow, not noticing anyone come out before shrugging and making your way into the dimly lit room. You sat down in the chair, looking around, noticing there was another door inside of the room.

Turning your attention to the person speaking to you and eyeing a pin on their jacket, you slid the envelope across the table. “Ah you're the one from I.M.P.” they said, reading over your file.

“Yes, I'm the one you spoke to on the phone, Fern, right? Anyway, I haven't worked at I.M.P long. I was in the body gaurding business long before that.” You took another glance at the door inside the room, noticing a faint glow under the door and hearing voices from inside.

They tilted their head at the mention of them being the one you spoke to on the phone. “How did you know it was me you spoke to?” They looked over your file for a little longer before asking another question. “Why did you go to work at I.M.P.?”

“I recognized your voice, and I saw on the news that my Boss did some work for Asmodeus as a body gaurd so I thought since the boss had done it himself that either he didn't trust his employees or that he was short staffed. Turns out he didn't have anyone to do body gaurding, so I was in luck.”

They nodded their head at your answers to both questions, giving you a look before sliding back your resume with a piece of paper on it that was stamped with Asmodeus's symbol on it. “Lastly, why are you here?”

You took your resume with a nod of your head. “To do my job.” Was all you said before standing up and walking to the other door. “Assuming your boss is in here to do the other part of the interview?” You asked slyly, watching their eyebrows go up before nodding your head and walking in.......

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So what do you think so far! This will be my first multipart fic, so feedback is appreciated! If you want the next part, just let me know. I already have it in the works, and we get to meet the big man of lust and our favorite jester next!

[b0und4gl0ry]

Alright, I can't really elaborate on my girlfriend, Beth, without elaborating on my life in general, and the event that led to my homelessness. so here goes:

Beth used to be one of my friends waay back when I was like 15-16, but I realized she was literally the fucking snobbish rich kid stereotype, so we got distant and eventually just stopped talking.

I just kinda hung out with my other friends, and did school shit for a while.

...

About a month or two after I turned 19. my dad came home, super pissed off about something, I don't remember. He apparently didn't like mom trying to calm him down, got Even more pissed somehow. He went to his bedroom, eventually, he came back out, I barely even registered the fact he was holding a shotgun.

You know what he did.

After, I ran to my room, broke the window, jumped out, and fucking booked it.

I had nowhere to go for who knows how long.

I just kinda existed.

Eventually, after what felt like centuries of fighting for my fucking life, I saw someone familiar.

A lanky calico with well kept fur and brown eyes. It was Beth.

I said hey, she said something, that I very much didn't expect.

She fucking, asked if I was okay

And the entire story spilled out my mouth.

She told me I could stay at her place.

And it turns out, she went on a self improvement journey or some shit, and she's... Not an asshole anymore! Lol. And nearly fucking telepathic with how well she knows how to read people.

We got close, I loved to just hear her talk on and on about something she loved, I loved just hearing her talk about some random things that nobody should find interesting... And I loved her dorky ass too.

And that's the story of how I almost died, And also the story of how I met Beth.

Honestly, if I were you, I would go back to where it happened. Hell, you wouldn't even have to leave your van, just do a driveby of the place, and hit the bricks if some bad shit happens.

- Stace T.

the first chapter of "Casey's Mixtape - Bound For Glory" will be added to this post. Asks specifically for Casey will be unanswered while I write this fanfic. Feel free to ask ooc questions though!

Please, don't expect Shakespeare here...this is my first fanfic. Crit appreciated! Fic below the cut!

Chapter One: "I Can Only Run for So Long - Kitsune"

There's a loud slam on the pavement as Casey Hartley hits the ground, disconnecting the feed to his Tumblr blog due to his phones sudden slam. It scrapes his paws, his knees...

And whatever's left of his pride, as well. All of his followers just got to witness him freak out LIVE, over something so small and harmless! She meant WELL, Casey! And you freaked out like a damn...some kind of...ugh...

He picks up his phone, finding a nice crack in the glass...which just sets him off more

"FUCK- GODDAMNIT!" He yells in a rage, kicking his van door shut with his paw, slamming it with a 'thunk'

He lays back down, covering his face with his hands, facing up at the sky. He groans loudly, his tail bristled.

"...it's...it's not real..." Casey whimpers to himself "...you're in Ohio, remember...?"

And then, he sits up quick, instinctively reaching for his belt in a haze...just to find...nothing there! Just like he said! That...fucking THING...it wasn't real!

And honestly? He wishes it was real, just this once...cause it'd give him, in his mind, something better to cry about.

"Fu-u-uck!" He cries to himself as he flops back down, defeated as usual.

He slowly turns his head upwards to look at the stars above. A vast, deep, black sky with white dots peppering it, like spilled salt on a countertop.

The air is cool, crisp, and clean...a owl hoots off in the distance. then the silence, deafening silence. Maybe a car passing by every so often, but mostly...

Quiet.

He's not sure what to do now. What's the decision to even make? Where is he going?

Sometimes, he even forgets where he is. After a while, every highway looks the same, blending into a blur of black, white, and fluorescent yellow. Moving fast, curving and swirling and moving...like a snake dragging him into eternity.

But he mainly feels...defeated. Like he's hit rock bottom again. No, more like he hit rock bottom and then kept digging.

He looks to the still open door of his van. His sanctuary. Home on the road. A...roam?

Roaming, it's what he's been doing for so long. Driving, eating, sleeping, interesting, and then all again tomorrow, like a snake eating it's tail and spinning in a circle. What's that called...a ouroboros! He thought about getting a tattoo of it once.

He's eating his own tail as we speak. He'll get up and keep driving. Eventually he always does. He's a stubborn ass.

The night continues on. Time will pass, and more trains will come and go. The owl hoots, the crickets chirp. The grass sways, the wind blows.

Casey crawls back to his van, climbing in the main living space, sitting on the dirty floor, littered with monster energy cans and...well, lots of soup cans. Geez, he's let himself go.

His voice cracks and wavers as he speaks, cutting through the quiet like a knife

"I...I give up" Casey wavers to himself, as he slowly inches towards the driver's seat

Casey sits in the driver's seat, the worn fake leather welcoming his form like a warm hug, and he starts the van. He's going back 'home', if it's still there. 

The van slowly rumbles to life, the engine humming beneath him like a purring cat. A quick glance at the clock on the dashboard--2:22 am. It really is late, isn't it? But it doesn't matter. He needs to drive. Go, Casey, go! Do what you're best at!

The van keeps going, the engine humming and the heat kicking in at the flick of a switch. Eventually, the old, cracked, pot-hole infested main road ends, and he finds himself back on the freeway. The stars above, the trees passing by...the silence is almost deafening.

God, the highway...highway 56? 64? Where is Casey Hartley? At this point, even he doesn't know anymore. The numbers on the exits pass by. There's the faint feeling of familiarity, but it's been six months, hasn't it? Has anything changed much? Probably not, right?

A road sign catches his eyes. The I-76. Ohio to Pennsylvania. He was this close to home already? Wasn't he just in Indiana? Wasn't he in Kentucky?? Wasn't he in Tennessee???

The actual 'radio' hasn't worked in a while, and he's too tired to plug in his phone to blast any kind of tune to wake himself up. Death Grips normally wakes him up by now...but...he can't bring himself...

There's a heavy rumble that stirs him awake. Rumble strips! Don't drive off the freeway, Casey! Are you fucking crazy?!

He jerks awake, staring at the road, and gripping a energy drink in his shaking paw and chugging it to stay awake. The artificial taste, which used to be fun and inviting, is now dull to his fried tastebuds.

He's almost back in Pennsylvania, and back to the town that's called home. But is it really home? Has it been the whole time he's been away, or has it become a foreign place? He guesses he'll just sees when he gets there.

The van dings softly. It needs gas. He needs to 'feed his baby' as he so loving calls his humble van. His baby. And babies need food!

And so, he finds a stop after pulling onto a exit ramp, dragging his little baby to a 24-hour Pilot gas station.

There are some lights, some people here and there, a sign about fresh snacks inside, and a small, gas station looking building where an attendant waits. She's a pretty Calico cat. Her name is Beth, as shown on her name-tag.

The attendant is a little tired. But they have a warm smile for him. They even said hello as he pumped some too-expensive gas into the van, letting it run for a bit first before setting the nozzle aside. He finishes, gets back, pays for gas, and decides to peruse the gas station's wares before he moves on.

"Aw shit...they got a Subway?" Casey says to himself. He actually loves subway sandwiches. He has cash to spare, and his stomach roars like a tiger. Yeah, it's dinner time!

He strolls forwards, entering the Subway quickly. The walls are beige, with the all too familiar smell of fresh bread, and the old, mid-2010's art on the walls, the dining benches...

But it's time for the main event, as he walks up to the sandwich making station. There's a short, black cat standing at the counter, and she's prepared for anything Casey throws at her, figuratively and literally, considering customer service work

But, no, Casey is ever so polite. He orders a All-American Club. Hold the tomatoes and most of the sauces...keeping the lettuce and adding extra Parmesan cheese to the order. He also picks up one of those "Sidekicks", specifically the footlong pretzel. Boy's gotta eat!

And, well...he gets a blue raspberry slushee too. That'll wake him up good, mixed with the caffeine in his system.

He pays for his order, his voice softer than usual due to his sleepiness, and he can almost swear the black cat does a double-take when she looks at him, but she doesn't say anything, at least until he gets outside and she scurries up to the kind Beth at the counter.

She probably mistook him for someone else, right?

But no more wondering, he needs to eat. He skitters back to his van, and hops back in the cab, setting up his laptop for a YouTube and Subway session.

He's gonna hate having crumbs everywhere, but...fuck it, it's his van.

He settles in, watching a video of some TF2 gameplay. Deep down, he's still a gamer. He remembers being a Scout main. God, when him and Gregg would play together, it was a troll-fest.

But now he watches Medic gameplay, mainly. Casey likes his voice lines...and design...

Well, nevermind all of that. He's gonna Eat Something.

He props up one of the flip-up doors under his bed that hold his clothes and other things, and is able to use it as a tiny table to place his bounty on. He places it down and unwraps the sandwich first. Now this is some peak home decor. 

Oooh, god, it smells really fucking good. The sandwich...tasty, with the bread and the cheese and the meat and the bacon! Oh, this is a great night.

And the Medic has a wonderful accent. It's soothing, in a way. Almost comforting.

The sandwich is a tasty one, as Casey chews through it like he hasn't ate for days...which may or may not be true. And it's a satisfying size, making eating it a joy, instead of a chore. Casey's got good taste in food, too. Casey is a bit messy, but he's doing just fine...his van, his rules.

It's Casey's mess, his rules. As long as he's comfortable, that's what matters, right? There's nobody around to judge him here, so there's not much that he should worry about. Just good food, good drink, good entertainment.

But after he finishes up his sandwich, and his pretzel, and his smoothie, ends his night with just scrolling around on Pinterest and boogieing out to music.

The more Casey looks, the more he finds, and the more he scrolls through, and...oh dear. Well, he should go to sleep soon, shouldn't he? It's like...2 am...The more Casey looks, the more he finds, and the more he scrolls through, and...oh dear. Well, he should go to sleep soon, shouldn't he? It's like...2 am...

Casey pushes the laptop off of himself, making it land softly on a cushion to charge for tomorrow. Sleep would be lovely right now, and he's got the perfect set up for it.

And slowly, Casey drifts off to sleep, snuggling into his pillow and probably thinking many things to himself.

Sadly, his dreams are never peaceful...Never.

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

Portrait: 5 Oct. Suptober

The heat between them was rising again, along with other things, when Dean launched himself off the bed.

deancas, newly established relationship au, slightly spicy

Cas would've never cast aspersions on the Impala's capabilities as a makeshift shelter – he and Dean had spent more than one enjoyable evening in the backseat – but after a long day of battling ghosts, even a rundown motel in a small, haunted town was relieving. The car didn't even have a shower stall.

The water was barely warmer than Dean's wicked hands. No hardship; Cas let Dean push him against the slick tiles and wash every bloody image out of his thoughts.

Though neither of them were sated by the time they were relatively dried off and sprawled on the room's old sagging mattress, neither were they doing anything at breakneck speed. It was enough, for a while, to kiss softly and tangle limbs and hold one another, the earlier intensity faded to simmering. Cas loved this too: the faceted green of Dean's irises up close, the slight flush beneath his freckles; the fluttering pulse in his throat that Cas covered with his mouth.

The heat between them was rising again, along with other things, when Dean launched himself off the bed.

Cas had no more than sat up before Dean was throwing Cas's rain-wet trench coat over a portrait on the wall Cas had barely noticed before was even there.

"What–"

"Just," Dean panted, a hand aloft in acknowledgment. "Gotta tuck this here…" He captured his tongue between his teeth in concentration, making sure the entire painting was covered by the soggy coat. 

Cas took the opportunity to admire Dean's pale ass and waited for further explanations with atypical patience.

Dean finally flopped back down on the mattress. Cas beheld the smothered painting and then looked at Dean with a raised eyebrow.

"Didn't like that dude watching us." Dean shivered. "If I'm gonna put on a show, it's gonna be for cash."

"I could stuff your g-string with dollar bills," Cas offered.

"I'm not wearing a g-string." Dean grinned as he reached up to cup Cas's jaw.

"Another time then," Cas promised. After a long, filthy kiss, he thought of something. "So that's a no on voyeurism?"

Dean gaped at him for a second. "Well," he said slowly, "a no on that particular old timey sea captain leering at us. And it'd be a no on–" He coughed. "Other people."

"But?" Cas rubbed his thumb along Dean's lower lip gently.

"It could be a yes if it were, y'know. Just us." A new blush atop Dean's cheeks deepened, crept down his throat and onto his chest. 

"Good to know," Cas said, committed now to kissing every inch of that blush.

He'd planned to feel triumphant so was perhaps a little distracted in his plans and therefore a little surprised to find himself flat on his back, and Dean's eyes sly as he leaned closer.

"You didn't," Dean whispered as he nuzzled against Cas's ear and as his fingertips circled Cas's navel, "ask me what I wanted to watch. Who." He began to follow his fingers with his lips.

Oh.

[rhadinesthes]

🐍About Me🐍

Got tagged by @n-brio, so let the fun begin~

Nickname: I've had several, but the most prominent are S_D (which I've used since I was twelve) and Snek. I like snakes. There's also the name people call me when they forget my name. Somehow it's always the same, so it must really suit me. XD

Sign:

Call Me Little Sunsign

Height: 5'5"

Last Google Search: I've been looking for a certain sausage cheese ball recipe, since I've lost the one I used last time.

Song Stuck In Your Head: Granite (Pendulum), since it's what's currently playing.

Followers: 2

Lucky Number: Killing Defiled Amygdala in only two tries was pretty lucky. That's gotta be my greatest Soulsborne moment.

Sleep:

Dream Job: I'm trying to write a story/book, so if I finished that and people enjoyed it, that'd be swell.

Wearing: Jack-o-lantern/bat/rat/ivy print leggings, socks, flip-flops house shoes, my middle school orchestra shirt, and a big, cozy jacket. And to think I just ragged on Fred for wearing flip-flops with socks.

Favorite Songs: So many. I'll pick some from a variety of styles: Legion (VNV Nation) Im Guten Im Bösen (Eisbrecher) Theremin [Club Edit] (Covenant) Respite on the Spitalfields (Ghost) Planet Hell (Nightwish) Honeythief (Halou) Das Neue Fleisch (Sielwolf) Resurrection (Christopher Young)

Favorite Instrument: Harpsichord. I love the sound.

Aesthetic: Does goth count? I've been into goth shit since, like, middle school. Otherwise, it's a hodgepodge. Feel free to peruse my Aesthetic tag.

Favorite Author: Lovecraft. I feel the burn of the torches and the sting of the pitchforks already. Honorable mention goes to my two favorite books: A Madman Dreams of Turing Machines by Janna Levin and The Hot Zone by Richard Preston.

Favorite Color: I like blues and greens a lot. And black.

Favorite Animal Sounds: My grandma has this saying: Whistling girls and crowing hens always come to no good ends. So you know what? Shout out to all the crowing hens.

Last Song: Benzin (Rammstein) just finished playing.

Last Series: I've been watching The Last of Us with someone who's super into the games. I never played them. The last shows I was really into were Resident Alien and Snowpiercer.

Random:

I don't have many people to tag, so... @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe, I tag you. Have fun~ :3 It'd be funny to tag @n-brio again and make it recursive. And anyone else who sees this, Kos has planted a tag inside your brain. Hail Mother Kos! Grant us tags!

[gasolineghuleh]

im sick and if its not too much to ask could i get a lil fic of sick mountain with aether and dew taking care of Mo? It'd mean a lot 🥺❤️. (Ty in advance for your consideration)

Of course!! I hope you feel better darling!! I write Mountain as mostly mute, just as a heads up.

--

Mountain coughs harshly and looks up at the other two Ghouls with a pitiful expression under his mask as if to say "help me" and Aether and Dew have no choice but to take pity on the large Ghoul. His tail lays flat and drags on the ground behind him, flicking gently with every cough that comes from his battered lungs.

"Ah, geeze... Aeth, do we have any medicine in the den? Mountie's got somethin' goin' on over here." Dew looks at the bigger Ghoul and frowns in sympathy, moving over to him and putting his hand on the forehead leather of his mask. "Yep, he's sick," he says confidently.

"That tells you something?" Aether asks, moving forward and doing the same. Beneath his large hand, Mountain sighs, the sigh turning into a pathetic cough that sends his tail flapping miserably.

"I dunno, the humans do it. I figured I would try it." Dew circles Mountain once before taking his hand gently in his own. "Maybe he should sit down and get some rest, right, Aeth? This seems like a human cold. Papa had one once a few weeks back. Maybe that's where he got it."

"Yes," Mountain says simply, his voice even more gravelly than normal. He allows himself to be led by the smaller Ghoul until he comes to a large couch, flopping over onto it. Mountain is miserable, and the normally stoic Ghoul has no qualms about letting his bandmates know this simple fact with another harsh cough that rattles from his chest.

"Get some rest, Mount. We'll scrounge you up some medicine, a'ight?" Dew says, patting the Ghoul on the head clumsily and a little too hard.

--

An hour or so later the boys return, Aether's arms laden with different medications that are all Ghoul-tested-Ghoul-approved, as well as an extra blanket. Dew is carrying a small tray with light snacks and different electrolyte-infused waters for the sick Ghoul as well. While Dew sets the objects down and arranges them on a nearby table, Aether gently shakes Mountain awake.

"Hey, Mount. We got you some stuff that should help you feel better, ay?" Aether smiles donw at the sick Ghoul at pats the top of his head gently, talking softly to him. "Dew has some water over there that's going to make you better, yeah? Can you sit up?" Aether extends a hand to him and Mountain takes it gratefully, sitting up and reaching out for one of the bottles.

"Thank you," he says softly, as if his throat hurts to be used. He takes the bottle gingerly and cracks the cap, sniffing at it curiously before taking a sip. "Grape."

"Yeah, grape, man! I thought it would be better than uhh..." Dew trails off and looks back at the table at one of the brightly coloured bottles. "ARCTIC CHILLER... whatever the fuck that means." Mountain huffs a quiet laugh and takes another sip of the drink, nodding approvingly.

"We also have some meds for you, if you think you can swallow some of that? Know your throat probably hurts, so we weren't sure. You think you can?" When Mountain nods, Aether gestures to Dew, who brings over some red capsules in a small cup. "Papa says this is supposed to really help you when you don't feel good. They're small, so I don't know how helpful they'll be, but we'll try it."

"Toss 'em back!" Dew instructs as chirpily as he hands Mountain the small capsules. The larger Ghoul takes them gingerly and holds them up before swallowing them and following them up with a sip from the grape water. "Awesome. Get some more rest, big guy. We'll come find you later and check on you."

Mountain just nods and lays back down on the couch, smiling to himself when Aether covers him up with the large blanket that they keep there, explicitly for napping purposes. As the two go to leave, Mountain pokes his head up from the make-shift nest once more.

"Thank you."

[your-divine-ribs]

Kinktober 💖 Truth

"I actually think a lot of girls can do it but they don't realise it... they've just never had someone make them come hard enough before."

Words: 1.6k // I’m With the Band Van // squirting

Kinktober Masterlist Main Masterlist

💖 You'd thought that being on tour was going to be non-stop excitement, a never-ending run of shows and wild after-parties that would leave your head spinning and your thirst for hedonistic pleasures sated. Turns out that the sex, drugs and rock and roll lifestyle that you'd been expecting was a big misconception on your part where the Catfish boys were concerned though.

💖 You'd been on the road for four days with them and the wildest moment so far had been a messy night where you'd sunk shots and played Truth or Dare at some dive bar after a show. It'd been great fun until you'd all got thrown out when Bondy had been dared to re-enact the Coyote Ugly bar dance scene but had fallen off spectacularly and taken a dive into a table full of drinks.

💖 You'd giggled to yourself as you'd heard the scathing lectures the tour manager had handed out the following day, tucked away in your hiding spot on Van's bunk. "I told you it was a bad move bringing her on tour, she's nothing but a bad influence. This isn't the nineties anymore... despite what you might think it's not good publicity to be out getting fucked up in public. You're not Liam bloody Gallagher!"

💖 You're still smiling to yourself when Van appears twenty minutes later with a spliff in his hand and a giant frown on his face. He flops down on his back on the bunk, blowing a plume of smoke upwards. "Christ... it's like having me dad on tour, except even he doesn't lecture me like that!"

💖 "So... you gotta behave yourself from now on then? Got your orders?" You lean forward, plucking the spliff from between his fingers and taking a deep drag. "Heard Dan say that apparently I'm the bad influence... the cheek of it!"

💖 Van hauls his body upwards to sit facing you. "As I remember it was you who suggested playing Truth or Dare, which is exactly what got us into all that trouble in the first place... so I guess he was right... and you never even had your turn..." He pauses, grinning as he watches you with hooded eyes. "So... what'll it be then?"

💖 "Huh? What'll what be?" You shrug, confused as to what he's asking, passing the spliff back in exchange for a can of Red Stripe which you pop open, taking a swig. Van's smile widens. "Truth or Dare?"

💖 An hour later you're laughing so hard you're in tears, both feeling a little buzzed from the weed and the lager you've consumed. You've been exchanging silly dares and shocking truths back and forth, each turn getting more and more daring, and the mood has shifted from lightly flirtatious to downright blatantly sexual.

💖 "So... truth... how many virgins have you deflowered then?" You giggle, reaching for another can. Van practically sprays his mouthful of lager all over you as he stifles a hearty laugh. "Deflowered?" He echoes, clearly amused. "You make it sound so poetic!"

💖 "Isn't it then? Aren't the girlies all swooning and walking on clouds after spending a night with the hot frontman of their dreams?" He smirks back at you in a way that makes heat bloom between your thighs. Damn! Why does he have to be so bloody attractive? "Maybe you'll find out for yourself one day... and hey! It's not your turn, it's my go. C'mon what's it gonna be this time?"

💖 You roll your eyes at him, announcing "truth" before sitting back in the bunk, stretching out your legs in front of you, draping them over Van's lap. His eyes dart down to run over the smoothness of your bare legs as he ponders your question. When he looks back up at you his smile is mischievous. "Has a guy ever made you squirt?"

💖 "What the fuck?" You squeal, cheeks flaming as you clap a hand over your mouth, laughing to hide your embarrassment. "What kind of question is that? Not all girls can do it you know. If you think they can you've obviously been watching far too many pornos!"

💖 "I take it that's a no then," he says, placing his can down and resting his hands on your legs whilst you try not to react to his unexpected but welcome touch. "I actually think a lot of girls can do it but they don't realise it... they've just never had someone make them come hard enough before."

💖 Your cheeks grow redder and that's not the only part of you ready to combust. The atmosphere in the cramped bunk space has definitely changed from light-hearted and playful to heavy and charged. You swallow down a gulp. "And I suppose you're the expert in that area then are you?"

💖 You just look at each other, gauging the other's reactions, your gaze slipping down to his mouth as you see his tongue dart out to swipe over his plump bottom lip. Fuck... how you've wondered what that mouth might be capable of... and those long dexterous fingers that are currently moving down your legs to wrap around your ankles, gently tugging you towards him so you slip down until you're propped on your elbows. "Uh-huh," he confirms self-assuredly. "Wanna find out if you can?"

💖 You find yourself lost for words, an unusual occurrence, so you just nod, muttering out a mumbled assent of sorts, pushing your body even further down the bed so you're lying flat on your back. You can hardly believe what you're doing as Van eases your legs apart, settling down on to his belly between your spread thighs, lips brushing your skin. "Fuck Y/N, I've always wanted to do this..."

💖 Twenty minutes later you're writhing on the bunk whilst Van works you into a frenzy, kissing and licking at your now tender clit, sucking it between his plush lips whilst two of his long slender fingers fuck deeply into you in a way that makes your toes curl. You've had to clamp your hand over your mouth again to stifle the pornographic moans that still somehow manage to seep out.

💖 You're pretty sure at this point the whole tour bus including all the crew and even the driver knows you're having the time of your life back here but you can't even begin to worry about the dirty comments and Van's smug face that'll haunt you for the rest of the tour. He's a fucking magician and he's already pulled several orgasms from you, each one increasing in intensity until you're sure you're going to pass out if he keeps it up.

💖 "Shit Van," you groan as his seeking fingers hook upwards to catch a spot that has your legs nearly snapping shut around his head. "I dunno if I can take any more. I'm feeling kinda faint... ohhhh.... oh fuck that feels... uhhhh..."

💖 "Just one more darlin', you taste so fucking good," he murmurs, his words sending vibrations through your core that have you fisting at the bedsheets, your head pressed back so hard against the pillow you feel like you might melt into it.

💖 "Oh my fucking god," you whimper out, clenching helplessly around his skilled fingers as he starts to pump them in and out of you in a fast motion, his tongue circling your clit relentlessly until you feel like you might explode. "I... I... I can't..." you stutter.

💖 "C'mon love just let it go," he whispers into your slickness and then he puckers his lips around your clit, sucking a blissful pressure in tandem with his pistoning fingers. "Give it to me... I want it all."

💖 Your nerves are singing with overstimulation and you're caught between pushing Van's head away or tugging his hair by the roots to press him even closer. You decide on the latter and he increases his efforts. You almost draw blood you're biting down on your bottom lip so hard. "Uhhhh..." you moan in a voice that doesn't even sound like your own.

💖 Everything is winding up tight and fiery again except this time something feels different. You lift your head up off the mattress, mildly panicking. There's a blinding pressure low down that feels so overwhelmingly intense you'd probably feel scared if Van wasn't situated between your thighs, looking up at you with those captivating blue eyes.

💖 "Fuck... fuck... fuck... Van... I... I..." you babble, frantic fingers gripping his hair so tight he hisses in pain. He doesn't falter though, determined to give you that final push over the precipice... and then it explodes...

💖 The pressure suddenly gives way in an all-encompassing rush that sees your vision blur and a strangled cry tear from your throat. You come so hard you lose all sense of reality and you're not absolutely sure but it feels like you might actually black out for a few seconds. Your body tenses up then immediately slackens like you're boneless...and then there's the wetness.

💖 Your thighs are soaked, the bedding's drenched and to your horror you blink up, stunned, to see Van rising up to hover over you, the lower half of his face and neck dripping. The front of his shirt's wet through too and you start to blather, absolutely mortified. "Oh my god... did I... is that... oh shit, I'm so sor..."

💖 "Hey..." he cuts you off firmly, wiping his glossy lips on the back of his hand, seemingly completely unbothered about being soaked through. "Don't you dare apologise, that was the hottest fucking experience of my life... I'm not kidding." Then his mouth curves into a toothy grin, a little smug, a little over-awed, and definitely ecstatic. "Guess that answers our question then about whether or not you can! Are you okay?"

💖 "I... errr.... I... think so," you mumble uncertainly, your embarrassment starting to fade as Van cups your face in his hands and leans in close. "So how about a dare next?"

[system-of-a-feather]

can i eat your anatomy skills? yes my style is much more cartoony but you managed to make really good muscles on your characters and i need to learn how to do that.

saldfjlkadf thank you thank you

I honestly just really like drawing muscles and admittedly looking at them and building them look collectively as a system we are muscle heads don't @ me too loudly its 100% part of that whole meme of someone who draws feet TOO well but me @ muscles

Currently I'm kinda in what is probably best summarized as a "study period" of drawing in the sense that I'm mostly focusing on doing things with heavy references and reviewing / polishing how I like to go about doing things and trying some more experimental things rather than explicitly necessarily going in with the intent to draw something in specific.

Usually my art during study periods are either moderate flops or some of my best things I draw until i cycle back to another study period.

(For the record, I don't plan study vs practice periods, they just follow with my mood as I get tired and loose interest of both if Im on one long enough; I don't recommend anyone study if they feel its something they "have" to do)

But like the one - if you mean the Xiao one where dudes fucking shirtless cause I had too much fun with the anatomy - that one I was partially doing specifically to review muscles and to also try to use them in a bit more of a like... odd / dynamic perspective / camera angle

I usually spend a good time looking through pinterest and google and stuff for things I'd like to study, reference, and do an artwork based on during study periods and then I pick one of the like 80+ OCs that I think would work well with the thing I felt like studying

In that case I found this (image below the keep reading, cw shirtless man with male presenting nipples) on pinterest and I REALLY liked the pose and how the chest and waist were connected in a much more fluid manner than the standard poses + the not-standard camera angle and really wanted to play with it

Best thing for learning muscles though is to reference nude / partially nude photos of people, unironically looking at muscle group diagrams and seeing the general shape of muscle groups in the body, and HONESTLY looking at other artists and how they approach drawing muscles and meat on the body

I'm honestly not the best with more cartoony (and even anime since I consider mine like anime-esque semi realism) so I don't think I can give any direct advice on how to do it in a less-realistic manner cause I struggle with the concept of less-realistic styles but if I were to guess it'd be to learn the general muscle areas and their shapes and see how you can incorperate those shapes into your art ^^

Also this is generally a description of how muscles work which can help kinda figure out what might be off with a drawing of muscles - but honestly this is just a kinda more niche formal knowledge thing

-Riku

[mad-hunts]

@hexsreality sent🔪 to walk in on my muse standing over a dead body.

after having his breath restricted for so long, whenever barton does finally have the chance to inhale, it comes out as a gasp — a desperate sound that he hadn't heard for a long time from himself. he was unfortunately in the process of being suffocated by the man on top of him who was now a mere corpse. and as a result, he knew that he'd have to do whatever he had to to kill them to save himself. that meant slashing through their upper body from their collarbone, all the way down to their gut in this case. that is, once he had managed to grab the knife back that'd been kicked from him. subsequently, as you may be able to imagine, a very unsavory thing followed this. which was blood pouring out of them like a damn fountain. barton's clothes as well as his neck and parts of his face were now completely doused in it because of this. and gosh, he imagined that if he were squeamish, this would be like his worst damn nightmare.

but barton had done things before that would make this most recent kill of his almost look tame in comparison. so the only thing he was reeling from now was the adrenaline-induced high that his brain was still in. it made his pulse thunder in his ears and not to mention, he could smell the sweat coming off of himself. getting the man off of him was an easier task than barton thought it'd be then (perhaps as an after-effect of the fight-or-flight response) as it only took one push and his limp body had flopped down beside him. or, should he actually call the 'stranger' by his name? lauri eigo, a man whom he found out had come all the way from estonia to gotham to investigate why his sister had never come home from there, only to stumble across barton leaving the scene of a crime where a murder had occurred. and what do you know... the other person that'd been killed that day was also a transient, as barton normally targeted them.

thus, lauri took it upon himself to look into the man he'd seen and he was able to find out quite a bit about him before he sent him an invitation through the mail to meet him at his apartment under the guise that he was an admirer of his. but he really just wanted to confront him and then quite possibly kill him for doing the same to his sister. well, unfortunately for him, barton thought — anger had made him stupid and he didn't want to kill him with something like a knife but with his hands. or, at least, that's how he viewed it. barton was just starting to get up using his hands as a balance on the floor when he saw that he wasn't alone here. in all of the chaos that was 'taking care' of lauri since he knew his secret, however, barton had made one mistake and that was keeping the door slightly ajar when he entered the place. now he had to admit that there was no way to excuse the blood all over himself when there was a dead body literally right under him.

barton had to hold back a laugh at how bad his luck was as his eyes zeroed in on wanda. ❝ huh. you know, i had a feeling that i was missing something, but i just wasn't sure what. i know this looks extremely bad but just... give me one second to explain, ❞ he was absolutely stalling here, as barton was well-aware that even the most smooth talker could not worm his way out of this situation. barton soon plastered on a smile before he subtly turned the heel of one of his feet towards wanda. then, just like that, barton was running towards her in order to try to direct several slashes to her body rather wildly. he pretty much had no option but to kill wanda as well now. no other words were necessary, since he thought he made it rather clear through his actions that he wasn't just going to let her leave.

[go-our-own-ways]

I keep tweeting my thoughts abt 8loom and tsunapi when I REALLY ought to be putting them HERE jasdfoiawherogh I keep forgetting aggghhhh

ig for now the tl;dr is after falling down the 8loom/kimi no hana ni naru rabbit hole, my new hyperfixation now is tsuna keito and hachimura rintaro, but there's way more watchable/leisure content of tsunapi (bc of being in industry longer + being an established actor already) so I've been watching his stuff

started out with ookami ni wa damasarenai, and have been flip flopping it with ryusoulger! it's been a fun time

admittedly feeling kind of bored by ryusoulger, but I'm gonna try my best to finish it (I'm like almost halfway through anyway). I think it's just not my cup of tea, sentai series... it's a lot less engaging (for me) than I thought it'd be compared to kamen rider ;; I've seen several kamen rider shows at this point and I know sentai isn't the same but I had hoped for like...clearer plot, I guess? but I'm halfway through with a lack of plot other than episodic like monster of the week style plot orz not a bad thing! just not my thing in particular, I guess

BUT it's still worth my time for tsunapi, so I will persevere

meanwhile ookami has been...interesting lol. I keep cringing at the romance element, even though I know it's just the medium through which they're trying to determine who the werewolf is. I couldn't stand the tension so I spoiled myself already, so at least that's out of the way? but also because like. my jp isn't THAT good, so it's a little hard for me to follow all their logic right...so I figured meh, doesn't hurt to know in advance lol

tsunapi is very charismatic and cute throughout ookami (: makes me happy to see him here, actually. my one gripe is that his end-game coupling is with an 18 year old, when he was 22 at the time lol. why does japan keep doing this... ; u ;

also been browsing t1kt0k a lot lately... yep I finally fell into that. I use it almost exclusively for 8loom content though, since I realized that these boys (well, most of them) have one, and the official account posted a lot of their stuff there, too. plus, it's been a nice place to find a lot of random content I missed from their insta lives, magazine shoots, and whatnot (:

on a more..serious? note

I get mildly disgusted with myself whenever I think too hard about the next hyperfixation I enjoy, because it feels like the age of the boys just keeps getting younger each time TT I'm trying to tell myself that I just like cute faces + jdramas have a habit of always picking up new cute faces so it's inevitable I'll find younger and younger actors... but ugh god I don't want to become a cougar or some shit TT I could never actually deal with someone younger than me by more than like. 2 years probably LOL...

I think maybe also what's going on is that even though I'm nearly 30 (insane, but time sure flies...), my soul is still stuck at like. 26 or 27. because that's when the pandemic happened. lmao.

I feel like I haven't lived life, had a crazy romance, or anything...so it just gets funneled into the next idol or actor hyperfixation... TT

sorry god for being a disgusting human I guess ;__; though I know my intentions are not dirty, but I know there are z gen kids now who would find me disgusting so... I'm sorry... ; ;

so yeah...that's me lately LMFAO

now note to self COME BACK HERE TO POST YOUR BRAINWORMS...I need to unaddict myself from twitter lmfao

[bougiebutchbitch]

Sorry if this is inappropriate, no need to answer if that's the case! But you've answered kink based questions before, and I wondered if you had an opinion on kakashi pet play? No need to answer if you don't want to, I'm just rolling the dice to see if it's something you would expand on!

>:3c

nonnie my bestie I am so glad you asked

This man is already half dog... I mean.... it's right there asking to be written......

I feel like Kakashi would enjoy it both ways, yanno? Like, with his pack, he's very good at being The Human Master, and he obviously gets a lot out of caring for people. He just often forgets to care for himself in the midst of all that.

So, while he'd probably be a good master for a pet, it'd also be really healthy for him if he could come home to Gai and chill the fuck out and sprawl over his lap and be loved, ya feel?

I also insist that some canine traits sneak their way into his mannerisms. Mostly for my own amusement - because just IMAGINE the super-cool legendary General of the Shinobi Alliance, the Sixth goddang Hokage casually scratching his ear with his foot while sat down and talking with other military leaders....

He continues talking like absolutely nothing happened while they all stare. King.

Kinkier stuff under the cut!

In addition, he absolutely loves being petted, whether it's by his kids in a cute platonic way, or by Gai when they're snuggling in bed after sex! I think he'd have to be in a very particular mood to enjoy being muzzled or leashed, but he's always ready to laze around Gai's house naked maybe with a collar and a tail plug in don't look at me and have 0 responsibilities except being stroked and told he's a good boy....

Like, I imagine the only time he actually accepts the compliments Gai gives him is when he's in subspace or petspace, so if Gai tells him he's Good when he's like that, he might actually believe it hgfdghdgfd

I, uh, also have Some Headcanons about ANBU conditioning and how you can bark certain numbers and words at Kakashi and Tenzou and they just kinda. Automatically fall into a battle-ready position on full alert, or start cataloguing their own injuries to report on their condition...

It's very useful in dangerous field situations! But it's also pretty fucked up!!

Anyway, the idea that following an order can bring a strange sort of comfort with it (especially for Kakashi, who has been promoted into leadership his entire life but has 0 ambition and, despite his need to take care of his teams and village, obviously just wants to retire with Gai and be done with all this responsibility lskdfhsd) is something that could be explored in a far, faaaaar healthier way through petplay!

Gai can be a great commander too, after all! I'm sure he'd be very happy to give gentle little orders to Kakashi in the privacy and comfort of their home - mostly because he loves petting him and praising him like a pupper when he obeys!

And Kakashi is obviously at his heart a little troll bastard, so uhhhhh you could get some fun bratty stuff in there too... :sweats:

I love the idea of him acting up and trying to get Gai to humiliate him a bit, but, being Kakashi, not communicating that this is a thing that he wants. And of COURSE Gai's not gonna do anything like that without fully talking it over and establishing Kakashi's consent first!

It winds up with Kakashi (cheekily, lightly) biting Gai when Gai goes to stroke him. And Gai pulls back, kinda panicked, worrying he's hurt him - but there's something in Kakashi's eyes...

Gai blurts out, "Do you want me to spank you while you've got the tail in, rival?"

To which Kakashi goes bright red, flops over Gai's lap, buries his face in the bed and nods a whole lot gdhhfdhf

I am losing all coherence because this is such a cute concept helpppp

[manjiropie]

do whatever is in your mind.

Young Mikey x Reader!

Warn! no warnings today! enjoy!

It's not often Mikey and I have a quarrel. We do bicker here and there, but that's what happens between friends, right?

I've joined Toman for almost a year now– although I've known Manjiro for much longer. I met him through Emma, who is a big friend of mine for as long as I can remember. She was there for me at times when I felt like there was no exit, no light. She's an extremely important part of my life– of me.

I've come to realize that I have been spending more and more time near Mikey, which is not bad, I do enjoy his presence. He may look tough and intimidating but he's just like a mochi: freezing cold on the outside but melting saccharine inside. Now that I'm a part of the gang and actually get to know and participate, I've gotten closer to him. Here and there Mikey invites me out.

"So, it's like a date?" I'd smirk suggestively at him.

"In your dreams." He'd try to hide his smile and he'd look away.

However, there are a few little habits he has that tend to send me on a rage trip. I get mad easily. Things will likely set on fire quickly. It's not that I want to, but my mother is not one of the most patient people in the world and she tells me to cool down. As if.

This last week was the cherry on top.

Mikey had crossed the line. He had pissed me off in every single way possible. He pretended not to listen to me while he was eating. He would answer me in a "oh, I don't really fucking care about what you're talking about!" way. He tripped while he was laughing hysterically at something Draken had said and his pink lemonade was all over my white shirt. He drew in an assignment that was due to the next day for my math class. He told me off for no reason at all in front of everyone in the last Toman's meeting... all of that wasn't on purpose. I am aware of how incredibly short his attention spam is when it comes to not so important affairs. But, fuck, couldn't he just be a little nicer to me? At least during last week where I was having sharp cramps in my fucking uterus? Yeah, maybe he didn't know that because I try not to be so obvious. But when he told us we'd be training last thursday I almost laid on the ground in fetal position and cried for hours. I didn't! I fought and then went home and cried.

Then, this Saturday– today –he invited me to his house to hang out. Emma was with a friend and his grandfather was out of town. When he called me to his house we never did much. We'd watch TV, hang out on the couch discussing stupid stuff, we'd be on our phones... nothing so wow. It was still fun, though.

I wasn't in the best mood to leave my comfy bed but I was way less in the mood to fight him off over the phone. So I slid out of the bed and dressed the first jeans I saw laying on the end of my bed and the oversized Nirvana shirt hanging off my chair (it's actually my dad's shirt, shhh).

~

I knocked twice on his bedroom's door.

"Come in." He yelled from inside. I open the door and he's laying on the bed, his head hanging off of it and his hair is almost touching the floor. His face lit up and he rolled over so he laid on his stomach. I walk over and sit down beside him.

"What's up with the frown?" I didn't notice I was frowning to be honest. Guess the bad mood followed me here.

I shrug.

"Ugh, don't tell me you're in a bad mood." He whines. "I called you here to chill and you're already angry. What's up?" He lays on his pillow and swings his legs to place them on my lap. I huff and shove them off, getting up.

"You've been treating me like shit the whole week and now you wanna chill?" I say, more calm than I thought.

"I did not treat you like shit this week? When do I treat you like shit?" His tone was one of disbelief and confusion.

"Ah, Mikey. Embarrassing me in front of the rest of gang; spilling your drink on my school shirt, which is now stained; ignoring me or answering like you're bored..." I list them off on my fingers. "I am the one who asks, what's up with you?! God, you're always being so unpredictable, which is good sometimes but not like this! Not to me!"

I flop down on the couch, starting to get tired of this whole thing. Knowing Mikey, I know that he'll not lay down again.

"So you're the only one allowed to have bad days now?" He sits on the edge of his bed and I turn my head around lazily, uninterested, bored, like him.

"You were laughing incredibly loud with Takemitchi and Draken friday."

"You can be so annoying sometimes."

"Oh, I'm the annoying one now?" I stand up.

"If you don't like my company, why did you even come in first place?" He also stands. We don't have much height difference, but he's hardly two inches taller than me.

His voice is calm, like always. Which makes me infuriated. "Fucking hell! Does it hurt for you to apologize!?" My sudden outburst takes him on surprise, and me, too.

"I already apologized, stop whining about it."

"I'm not whining–"

"If you weren't," he walks to his desk and sets a cup that was once beside his bed down. "You would've dropped this matter before."

"You don't give a damn about what I feel, do you, Mikey?"

"What?" He turns around, brows knit together.

"You heard me. You made me have a bad week and the least you could do is apologize, you dumbass!" I stomp to his direction.

"I already did! Why don't you–"

"Shut up or I'll punch you." I say, slightly looking up.

His eyebrows twitch and he slowly tilts his head to the side, like a puppy. "Or what.. ?"

"Are you fucking deaf?" I point to my ears.

He comes a little closer. "You're gonna do what if I don't shut up?"

"I'm going to punch you if you don't stop being a brat." I sneer at him. My blood boiling. The stress from this shitty past week overflowing in that moment.

"Oh, yeah?" I could feel his breath oh my nose.

"What? Are you doubting me? I would." I jerk up an eyebrow. I've never fought physically with him. But it's not like I can't.

"I'd like to see you try." His eyes flicker to my lips for a brief second and my breath fails, making me cough.

"What? Can't punch me?" He amuses.

"Fuck you."

Suddenly I feel an arm sneak around my waist and in a second I'm chest to chest with Mikey. My eyes widen– his were peaceful as ever, although superior.

"Do it." He says, looking down at me.

The way he's holding me is making my head spin. True, Mikey is cute...

"Do what?"

He laughs at my confused expression. "I don't know... what did you say you'd do to me?"

Ha ha.

His hold on me tightens.

"Do whatever is on your mind." He says.

My eyes roam free between his eyes and his soft pink lips. Do whatever is on your mind.

If he knew what was on my mind, would he still allow me to?

"Do it," he encourages me once again, "aren't you the 'oh so brave' one? Punch me, yell at me, do whatever you want to me."

Those words were the last push I needed. My hands find the soft skin of his neck, hidden by his long hair. I pull him close and lock our lips together. I feel him making a little sound, I don't know if it was surprise or relief.

If by just looking at it his lips seemed soft, actually touching it felt like kissing cotton candy or guessing cloud shapes.

He didn't pull back, in fact, he held me with both hands. I have no clue how he did that but it seemed as though all of my worries dissipated as we kissed.

My heart was beating so fast that it made my chest hurt. My head started to pound when I spent a little too long without air. I pull back from his lips and keep my gaze on them as I breathe heavily.

"Hm." He hums quietly, almost dreamily if you'd ask me.

I look up at his face and smile a bit, noticing how his cheeks are pink. I lift an eyebrow up as if asking what he was thinking. He shakes his head and then puts his right hand on my cheek, caressing it. He kisses me again. This time is slower. As though being present in the moment. As if it were just me and him and nothing else.

----------

I hope you guys liked It! It was so pleasant writing this out of the small bits of ideas that I have. Don't forget: my requests are open. You can request anything! Thank you for reading! Oh, likes and reblogs help a lot! If you consider following it'd make me even happier <3

[xoluvx]

this is me trying; t.holland

» pairing: tom holland x reader » song: this is me trying » word count: 1.6K

"Hey, you want to join us for movie night today?" Zendaya's voice brought you back to reality. You glanced at her, she was holding the door open while leaning her head in through the small space. There was a small smile on her face like she was too scared to show too much emotion in case it triggered you.

Shaking your head, you leaned further into your bed pulling the covers closer to your chin.

"Are you sure?" she asked again. Usually, she would've given up, but this time she was persistent. There weren't many nights left.

"I'm sure," you said blankly not looking at her. You turned your back towards her bringing the covers over your shoulder. You heard a small sigh followed by the door closing. You felt your throat tightening, the familiar knot making it difficult for you to lay in peace.

The warm tears started forming and it wasn't long before they were streaming down your face.

"I don't understand what the big deal is," his voice echoed as you walked down the hallway. Your hands were fists at your side and all you wanted to do was disappear. "I'm talking to you," he called out again hoping you would stop.

But you weren't stopping.

"Tell me why that's wrong?" he asked again. His voice settling into a softer tone realizing that raising his voice wasn't going to help. He was quickly walking now in the hopes to catch you. His fingers wrapped around your arm gently and you stopped.

"What's wrong? I told you I didn't want to go public, you went against what I specifically told you I didn't want. Why would you do that to me?" you asked the hurt in your voice piercing through his heart.

It hadn't been his intention. It'd slipped. It wasn't something he could take back now.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" he rambled, but you jerked your arm away shaking your head. The last words you spoke directly to him rung in his head.

"It's over. We're done."

Sinking deeper into the mattress, you held on to the comforter tighter. The tears had dried, but the pain was still holding on tight. You'd seen Tom since then. Obviously, you had to. There was no way of escaping him while you promoting the film, but you hadn't spoken to him. Not directly. Not intentionally.

There was a knock again. This time you didn't react so you were surprised when the door opened slowly and in came the familiar figure again.

"It's not the same without you," Zendaya said sitting at the edge of the bed. She wasn't leaving this time. "Why don't you talk to him?" she asked. She knew everything. She was the one person you ran to, but recently you'd started to slowly isolate her too only leaving the hotel room when you had an interview or special appearance.

"He doesn't want to talk to me anyway," you mumbled. Your voice was muffled by the comforter.

"How do you know? Has he told you that?" Zendaya flopped on the bed, she rested on her side watching the back of your head. Her hand came up to the covers trying to them from your face.

You groaned pulling on the cover.

"He doesn't want me back. I was awful to him," you said remembering how everything went down. The look of hurt he had on his face. The way he'd tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers and slowly backed away like you'd just accused him of the most horrible crime. The way he turned around and didn't look back. Not once.

"Did he say that?"

"No, but I know." That was the end of the conversation. And the last time you really spent time with her. Or with anyone no the cast for that matter.

"He's not here tonight, just come down for a bit." She pulled on your arm. Finally, you gave up. You let her lead you to the rest of the cast. Sitting down on one of the couches you pulled your sweater sleeves down so your hands saved in the fabric.

There was laughter and talking, but you spaced thinking of the times when you were on this very couch with Tom making jokes with everyone. Back before the world knew about the two of you. Before your world seemed to come down in flames.

-

It'd been almost a month. A month without Tom. You'd think a month would be long enough to forget about him, but time did not heal your wounds. You'd tried texting him. You missed him. But he never replied. You had no idea where he was or what he was doing. Did he go back home for a break or did he stay in the country to work?

He hadn't posted on Instagram. It was like he'd vanished into thin air, just like you'd wished for when you broke up with him. Which you had to remind yourself, you broke up with him. It didn't make it any easier.

Have you heard anything from Tom?

You'd given in and texted Zendaya, with who you'd patched things up. You couldn't bear to lose her too.

He's actually in town.

The reply was quick and it almost caused your heart to jump out of your chest. He was in town and you didn't know. She hadn't told you without prompting. Had he asked her not to?

The address to the hotel he was staying in flashed on your screen and your heart started jumping again. Thumping loudly, so loudly you could hardly hear yourself think.

It was late. Late enough that paparazzi wouldn't follow you. Late enough that Tom would probably be asleep. Late enough that maybe he wouldn't even want to talk to you if he was awake.

After pulling a few strings, you were standing outside his hotel room. Your hands cold in the pockets of your jacket. Taking out a hand, you formed a small fist knocking on the door gently. No response.

You waited, biting your lip and debating whether you should just go. Shaking the defeatist attitude, you knocked again. This time with a little more force.

It took a few seconds, but the door opened slowly and a shirtless Tom peaked his head through the small crack.

"Hi," you exhaled. You hadn't realized you were holding your breath until you saw him. There was a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest. Your heart was happy to see him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked rubbing his eyes. He had been sleeping.

"You didn't answer my text," you almost whispered. It was as if you'd forgotten how to speak, how to put words together to form a cohesive thought.

"What?" he said furrowing his brows, he still hadn't opened the door completely and you were standing outside his hotel room awkwardly playing with your fingers.

"I text you-"

"You broke up with me. Am I obligated to respond? I've been busy..." he added almost as if to soften the blow.

Stepping back at the sound of his raised voice, you nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come." Walking backward, you apologized again turning on your heel, walking back towards the elevator. You heard the door close as you walked away cupping your hand over your mouth to block the ugly crying noises that were desperate to escape.

Pushing on the elevator button aggressively, you waiting for the ding. It felt like the longest seconds of your life. When the doors finally opened you stepped in. Again, the wait felt like an eternity. They were finally closing, but you saw an arm stop the doors.

It was Tom with his disheveled hair and a shirt. He'd put on a shirt.

"I didn't reply because it hurt too much," he confessed standing in front of you as the elevator doors closed. Your bodies shook as the elevator moved down and you held on to the railing to hold your ground.

"I wanted to. I wanted to reply, but you broke up with me." His voice cracked. You wiped some of the tears that'd started falling from your face. He was right.

"I'm sorry," you said finally looking at him. The tears were back, but you weren't wiping them this time. "I want to-" your voice cracked and your chest tightened. You stopped and inhaled deeply watching Tom stand in front of you with confusion.

"I want to try again. Please." Stepping forward you tried reaching for his hand, but he retracted it quickly running both hands through his hair and cupping one over his mouth.

"We can't-" he said softly the elevator doors finally opening. This was your queue.

"It's fine," you smiled forcefully shaking your head as he tried approaching. "It's okay. I'm going," you said pushing past him quickly leaving him dumbfounded on the elevator.

The air was cold as you stepped outside. Your tear-streaked face was faced with the cold wind and tucked your hands into your coat again silently sobbing as you aimlessly walked down the street.

"Wait!"

Were you hallucinating? Turning you saw Tom standing by the hotel entrance. He was walking towards you. Your feet worked quicker than your brain, you started walking towards him too. Each step quicker than the one before and soon enough you were face to face.

His breathing was heavy, his hands cold as they made contact with your cheeks.

"Let's try again," he whispered as he brushed his nose against yours. His lips only centimeters away from yours. Wrapping your arms around his body, you closed the gap. The tears that pooled on your cheeks coursed down your cheeks as you closed your eyes. Losing yourself in the kiss, you tightened your grip around him and his thumb gently wiped the tears.

You didn't know how things would work out, but you knew you wanted to be with him. Publicly or not. You'd never stop trying.

folklore masterlist

[muffindaddystyles]

Tell me you love me, before I go.

A/N: A very short smutty writing I had in my swirling whole night, which unapologetically I ended up writing in the wee hours of dark.

Summary: Harry and Y/N are rivals -- very passive aggressive enemies. When on a mission Y/N breaks into his room he had no choice but to punish her.

AU: Rivals to lovers, dark sci-fi, angry rough sex, spanking and spitting, reassurance kink and unrequited love.

A war between two groups. Left one with nothing but a tech base and other with almost everything. So the Arsonists raid the Phantoms' buildings to steal food items and necessary fuels for their people since they're mostly unarmed due to lack of weapons they try to use their brain as much as possible. 

Y/N works in one of the tech bases of Arsonists and right now she's standing with her five more mates trying to figure out how to break through these large gates of the villain's building, one of his most strong headquarters. 

They've to collect some data before another truck of fuel arrives for Phantoms next Wednesday so they could have access to it without doing much effort. 

Once sneaking in successfully because the two guards were too muddled in gossiping their arsess about their maiden. The building's nothing too extravagant, sleek and able to live, dimmed to an unpleasant light indicating everyone inside it is sleeping. 

She barges into the villain's room easily and almost had all the information in her hands from his drawers when the door to the room banged close, startling her at spot and the frames of her glasses fell on the carpeted floor. 

"Shit." 

"D'ya think cursing would take ye' out of here? if so you're down bad" Her heart sinks in when his cold insensate voice booms within the walls — a heavy boot comes crushing her glasses, again and again mercilessly. 

Her blood boils. Because, what the fuck. Doesn't he have any manners? 

"Do you think I need my glasses to punch the shit out of you, you prick!!" She pounced at him, almost breaking his nose into a splitted eiffel tower but he dodged it, twisting her wrists at her back and snatching the files from her sneering menacingly —- letting her painful grunts fly over his head without any remorse. 

"Well, well." She yelps when he tightens his grip angrily, "Look what cat dragged in come little mousey we're going to have some fun." She didn't know until now that someone could be this strong as he puts her in a chair like a rag doll binding her with no escape out. 

She tries to squirm and wriggle her butt out but he just tuts standing tall and evil in front of her, she rakes her gaze slowly up to his tanned biceps and clavicles popping from underneath his flimsy shirt, matted curls grazing his shoulders. 

"Oh no, trust me sweetheart, you're going to want to stay strapped in here. We're going to find out how many times an Arsonist can break –- and for the fact my people will kill you on the spot if you step out of my room." Shiver runs down her body from fear and he chuckles, flopping onto the edge of his bed, man spreading, leaning onto the heels of his palms behind him. 

"You're pathetic!" She spits out. Full of venom. 

"Pfft, a thief telling me that 'm pathetic." He shakes his head and she's despising his audacity as if he rules the world. She could kick him square in his sexy face but the thing's she's bound to this damn uncomfy chair. 

"Atleast, I don't go on killing people." She grumps and it's like she pushed a button when his irises turn pitch dark. Her eyes widen in astonishment, reeking with fear when he leaves his spot in a thunder striding towards her furiously and drags the chair closer to him, almost lifting it inches above floor. 

The next thing she knows that a gun is resting against her temple ready to be fired, "Ye' really that desperate fo' me to prove it to you, huh?" He growls, hooded gaze following the gun that's sliding down her cheek and the way her breath wavers —- lips trembles, nose twitches he knows he's fucked. 

"Will it hurt?" If she's going to die it better be an easy way. 

His eyes soften at that. Taking in the rosy features of her, the plushiness and squishiness of her skin that his fingers feels like dipping into cream. The women of Phantom aren't like this; they're built differently to fight and kill who wrongs them -- they're almost heartless at this point. 

"Dunno, You'll get to know after taking one." He shrugs like it's not a biggie tipping her chin with the gun's pointer and her eyelids slip shuts. She couldn't cry. Even her dead body wouldn't forgive her if she would cry infront of her worst enemy for the last time. 

"I hate you, Harry. I'd never ever forgive you for kidnapping my cat when we were small." There she said it. If she's gonna die soon she better let it off her chest. Before it could hit him right in the wound he builds a shield fast arguing back with a stoic chuckle. 

"Guilt tripping wouldn't help, darling." He tuts patting her cheek with the gun's barrel —- funny case it's empty of bullets. He just shooted all of them whilst doing target practice. 

"Fuck you." She yells. 

"It'd take much more action than just undressing me naked with your bare eyes." He squeaks dramatically. Stepping away and pouts when she huffs trying to kick her feet in his direction. 

"Not my fault that you're a perv." 

He pouts feigning fake disappointment putting a hand on his chest, "You're such a grudge holder." 

"Think about 10 ways to fuck me until then 'm heading to make amends for you -- see what they offer in return of their precious nerd." He smirks, it's sad such a gorgeous face could be such evil she thinks. 

// 

When he comes back she's fallen asleep from getting tired and exhausted being trapped in the same spot for hours, "Sorry, peaches but they don't want you back –- even told me to kill you if that what it ta —- oooh" He halts in his tracks closing the door behind him quietly not to wake her up and pads softly towards her, putting her dangling head back gently in a comfortable position and tucks a strand of her hair that's tickling her nose behind her ear. 

You're not supposed to act that way with your enemy, you FUCKER. 

His brain screams but his heart says otherwise. 

She has changed. She never cries anymore. Everytime they kidnapped her or she ended up being caught from his henchmen —- she'd always need company to make her feel less frightened from the hollowness of their buildings, would cry when they'd lock her up in dark rooms. 

It's awfully hurtful how once bestfriends turns into rivals just because of a conflict that ruined their and their families lives. 

She has been doing all of this for people who doesn't even care about her. They're using her and many others like her to build a nuclear power plant so they could become intimidating. 

He retires to sleep. Debating in his sleep whether he should just free her and tell her to sleep in one of the rooms of the buildings but soon the possibilities died when he was high in his slumber. 

// 

He groans, knuckling the sleepiness away from his eyes. He woke up from loud the thumping and found Y/N trying to break the door knob, he winces covering his ears when she screams watching him lunge towards her in rush. 

His chocolate curls bouncing atop his head. His emerald eyes speaking with morning's gold and lips ripe like cherry. His brows kinked in annoyance and expression pinched in rage. 

"You're confident." He rasps out in his morning husk and slams his hands on either side of her head trapping, cornering her between him and the wall.

"Did you really think it was going to be this easy." He nothing but purres, pushing her against the door. She gasps abruptly aware of their height differences moreso the radiation of power he daunts that she ignored her whole life. 

"Hmm." He hummed. Eyes black with intimidation burning her under the intensity of it, he keeps his focus on her, smirking. "It suits you. This trying to fight me, desperation is a beautiful look on you." 

"Fuck you." 

"I mean if, ask nicely." His smile is sweetly honey and lethal if you ask me. 

She glares at him with blazing daggers, "This isn't the way you make people love you." Her chest heaving with his heat close to her and his scent enveloping her. 

"Love?" He laughs fondly even, crinkled forming by his eyes and he breathes out when she hovers her dry lips over his's, "Sweet thing this isn't about love — if ye ask me far from that." He's lying. He's full of bullshit. 

"And yet you don't touch me or hurt me." She squints her eyes up at him wrecking her brain how to slip away from his hold, "If you beg so." He simpers awfully lewd for her. Sure as rock for what he said with his whole chest. 

"Come get me then!" She trips him aside and rushes for the door when he pushes her into it tightening his hand around her throat, it's aching him to tell her the truth but he wants to let her know her worth. He rests his forehead against her's muttering a rumble deep within his chest, "They don't want you Y/N." Her windpipes squeezes painfully. The statement punching her lungs. Tears springing in her eyes. 

"You're lying!!" She looks up at him shattered and desperate. 

He caresses his knuckles against her tear stained cheek, "Shh, shh baby I'll always want you even if they don't — " He jerks back when she blows hit at his brawny chest yelling at him. 

"It's because of you!! You, you, you." He sighs. Grabbing her wrists and pining them above her head, "Shut up, please." His chillness irks her more and she nips at him feastly. 

"Make me." So he does. When her eyes drift up at his determined ones it takes her breath away and she knew it was over for her. 

His lips catches her's in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. Nothing gentle mind mushing about it rather pricking needles into her skin with the severeness of it. She feels the door rattling against her back when he shifts, pushing her against it with his hips, every thought of her exploding into white noise of want and lust. The dark curl of desire twisting in her stomach and pearling sweat on her neck. With the last thread of restraint in herself she tries to pull away. 

"No." He says bringing her lips back to his's. Cupping her cheeks to deepen the kiss and it's ardent as before not loosing it's spark, she slips her hands under his shirt — pulling him closer and the low groan at the back of his throat, a small pleading noise of want sets her skin on fire. 

"Fuck me."  She mewls. Trying to latch on his body like a kitten with it's dainty paws. 

He glides his clammy palms down her bum and grabs her thighs wrapping them around his waist. Not breaking the kiss but tasting ever dulcet corners of her mouth and creating heavenly noises. 

The next thing they know she's crawling back with the help of her bum to settle in the nest of pillows and he's fumbling with his belt buckle quite aggressively, she tugs the hem of his shirt down not satiated enough from having his lips on her and meanders her fingers in his hair to pull at them roughly in order to flush her chest up against his's.

"Never thought your sheets would have smelled other than sex." Because, genuinely. They smell that of fresh mint and roses. 

"So, you think of me doing dirty on this bed you're laying at the moment?" He asks mock and degradation evident in his tone, "D'ya get wet dreamin' 'bout me railin' ye' to death?" He grazes his teeth along her jaw and sucks at her earlobe counting in her silence. 

"Shut up." She gasps, probably from the abrupt press of his bulge against the inside of her thigh. 

"Make me then." He growls. Fisting the hem of her hoodie and pulls it over her head throwing it among his skinny jeans. Her head falls back and lips tremble from the effect of slap he landed at her outer thigh —-- she knows she can't shut him.

Though he knows that her single command and he'd be at his knees for her. 

When she clings to him for dear life and whimpers in his ear softly, his eyes widen in realization and he leans away to watch her expressions diffuse into manifold emotions. His nose scrunches up and he holds back his cooes for her. 

She's a subby. A cute one. 

Her eyes blink open to the sight of him out of his boxers and it waters her mouth —- her mind manipulating her to lunge forward and take his heavy member in her palm to give a good suck to his shiny crimson head. 

Down her throat. Nestle her nose against the trim patch of hair under his balls. 

"Like what y'see, doll?" He highers his chin quite smug about her staring and she hates him for that, "Pretty cocky for someone who likes staring at his enemy's tits." Her voice groggy. She wheezes a squeak through her nose when Harry pulls his shirt over his head revealing toned pecs and abs -- skin sewn with tats. 

Unfortunately, she doesn't get to stare at it for longer when that shirt comes wrapping around her eyes blocking her sight. 

He can never let her have nice things would he?

"Wanted to gag your mouth with it … but I'd rather love hearing you moan fo' daddy." He nips at her collarbones -- sucking it harshly to leave a prominent mark. His calloused hand rubs over her tummy smiling against her skin when she jolts and lets a little squeal slip. 

His cock drips precome at her tummy and her breath shudders into heavy pants when the tip of his cock dipped in her belly button nudging it. 

"Ha —- " He glides his sticky head down her happy trail and slips his large palm into her panties cupping her with his middle finger teasing her entrance, "Couldn't hear you!" He ducks down to put his ear near her lips and drums the pads of his digits against her cheek. 

She huffs and squirms for a second then moans breathily when he spanks the side of her hip leaving a sting, "Oh my god, daddy." His grin victorious and he lowers down to smudge his lips against her parted ones -- kissing her tongue and humming around it. 

She's somewhere it's hard to configure out, in between paradise and wonderland. 

"Tell me princess, what d'I do with you in your filthy dreams?" He grabs her jaw patching gentle pecks against her lips and he slops his finger into her throbbing pussy, "Fuckin' drippin' down ye' bum fo' me." She cries out trying to hook her thigh around him but he hisses slapping her cunt hardly -- turning her into a thrashing mess. She's trying hard to suppress the bitter-sweet sensation of her own body getting out of control and her glistening pussy lips flutter erratically creating sloppy noises. 

She squirts drenching the sheets underneath them and her panties. 

He slides his arm under her arching back pushing her up against his chest with a jerk, "Daddy's askin' you somethin'." He grits, propping his knee in between her thighs to rub it against her soaking centre. 

She gulps, licking her dry lips, "You–your rings … ah!" Her whimpers are muffled against his chest and he twists his thumb in tight circles to smear her wetness from her slit to clitoris, "What 'bout them, doll?" 

How does she tell him she liked what he did earlier. 

"Daddy, please … " She whines blindly searching for his face but he grips her wrists in his one hand and groans, "How's daddy gonna make you feel good when you don't tell him, pet?" He takes a kitten lick of her perky nipple. Teasing her areola with the tip of his cold tongue against her warm sweaty body —- he laps at it hungrily then creates a suckling noises, the noises, his slobbery tongue on her body, his fingers curled inside her pussy and the thick humidity is too overwhelming, she feels like fainting. 

She wants him, inside her needy pussy. 

She can't take the teasing anymore. 

"Spanking! I – I liked it when you did it, please." He kisses her nipple for the last time before smashing his mouth against her's in a fervent sinfulness and parts away with a smooching noise to sit back on his heels, "It wasn't that hard was it? Just a word and I could give you my whole world." The sincerity in his voice makes her want to hug him and kiss him for lifetime but for now he has other plans as he rips her panties away moaning obscenely gruff at the sight of her pussy weeping for him to pound his cock inside her, so ready and full of dripping honeyed wetness  for him. 

"Your safe word is clouds." He whispers in her ear. He knows her limits and her resistance but by any chance he'd cross it he'd never forgive himself, "What's it?" He asks and she says in wavering, "Clouds." 

"Atta girl." He pets her cheek. 

Her nail scratches the side of his hands that are pinning her down when he spits on her already damp cunt, a loud noise resonates along with her needy cries when his free hand adorned in jewels came spanking her pussy and her pelvis remains lifted in air bathing in the sting of metal and the throb rattling in her whole core. 

"This's what you wanted?" He kisses his teeth slapping her slick clit again and again, "To be roughed up by daddy, hmm." She bobs her head squirming and wriggling. Her words struck in her throat. 

"To be manhandled." He hums a growlish moan tasting his own fingers coated in her juices, "I'll show you what being manhandled really feels like." He promises her. She gasps a sweet yelp when he flips her over and throws her bum up.

His cock rubbing against her thigh and her heartbeat fastens, anticipating something, crimping the sheets in her fists and mewls into the mattress when he spanks her ass loving the way it jiggles stroking it afterwards to subside the burn down before landing another brutal one. 

She bolts her eyes shut throwing back her hips at him and he lays all the way over her back pushing her down on the bed, her cum trickling down the inside of her thigh, "Want daddy's cock?" He asks. Slicking the head of his prick up and down her asshole and slit. 

When she nods vigorously he bumps it in furious circles against her swollen bundle of nerves, "Then beg fo' it," He says intimidatingly and she doesn't waste a second before blabbering shamelessly. 

"Daddy … please I want your massive cock inside me, all of it." In her entire lifetime -- she never once uttered these kind of words. 

His heart mushes into a puddle seeing her a babbling mess and grabby hands for him, he kisses her gently speaking to her with foremost affectionate, "shh, shh moppet. You could have it anytime you want it, daddy's g'na fill you to rim with his cum and make you keep it there for hours with his prick still snug inside your little pussy, just made for him, c'mere...yeah just like that." He lays her back gently that her front is facing him now and wraps his hand around her calve raising it and pushing it against her chest firmly.

A series of pornographic moans and whimpers echoes in his bedroom when he seathes inside her slowly stretching her out in by inch leaving a burn behind her pulsating walls, their breath laboured breaths mingling, "Fuck you're so warm baby —-- hugging daddy's cock so good." He whines looking down where they're connected and knotted. His stomach twists and turns, his hips stiffens and he resists from pushing inside her when she's not ready but her milking him with her wetness isn't doing him any mercy too. 

She gropes his ass, nudging him to move and their teeths clanks, temples falls against eachother and lips whisper prayers of their unrequited love when he pulls all the way back to pound back inside her roughly. 

"You're daddy's good girl, making him feel so good. I want to keep you to myself. all of you and cherish you, make love to you, w'na mark you however I want." He groans eyes rolling back under his closed lids grinding his hips against her's in rhythmic pleasuring motions to give her clit stimulations and she cries out feeling another bursting orgasm bubbling in her tummy. 

"'M gonna cum, daddy!" She tugs at his roots and he drives more maniacly inside her, "Squirt around daddy's cock pet, so your pussy could swallow it deeper inside you." The headboard of bed hits against the wall vigorously and she digs her heels deeper into the dimples at his back moaning at the top of her lungs when she gushes all over his dick making more squelching, soapy, dirty noises of him raming inside her. 

She desires for more. 

She has become one little insatiable thing. 

His balls smacks against her bum and his thursts turn faster to chase his high, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He curses nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and keeps his hand around his throat with the slight pressure of claimation. 

"Come fo' me again." He spanks her ass and she clamps shut down at him pushing him to the edge of ecstasy, "Squeezing me so tight -- gimme more, I know you can princess." Her legs tremble around his waist when she crampies around him and his cock's head strokes against her sweet spot doing wonders to just topple her off real quick. 

"Daddy!" She feels floaty and foggy head coming on his cock for the many times she has forgotten. Her mind blocking out even the weak shuddering whimpers and beaten moans of Harry as he reaches his orgasm unloading inside her -- his cum sticking thickly to her walls and some of it oozing outside of her pussy hole but he pumps it back with lazy strokes. 

He lifts his smushed face from the dip of her neck, his own curls sweaty against the nape of his neck and he smoothes his palms down her sides to calm her, his lips brushing featherly against the corner of her mouth as she keeps on blabbering something. 

When he tries to pull out gently she cries out pawing at his shoulders, "Daddy no!" He caresses her sweaty hair back and gets rid of her blindfold, pecking her nose sweetly. 

He wants to take care of her. He yearned to have her like this for years. He has to bring her back from her sub-space before it's too late. 

"It's no daddy anymore, petal. I'll crush you in this position — " Carefully he tries to retreat but stop when she says in a very dejected feeble voice, bottom lip wobbling and tears springing at the corners of her eyes, "You don't want me too?" OH NO. This's what Harry was afraid about. A breakdown. He saw the storm coming but didn't know it could be this worst right when she's in her sub-space. 

His face pales at that. His state in frenzy and panic. 

"No bubba. I want you my precious girl -- s'just you're gonna get tired like this, hmm. 'N I have so much to show you and make you meet new people -- couldn't have me baby walkin' on her wobbly legs for whole day could I?" He cups her cheeks tenderly and smiles down at her warmly smothering her in devoted kisses. 

"Promise, daddy?" She sniffles staring up at him with doe innocent eyes and he shakes his head, "Harry sweet angel, come back to me moppet." He keeps his gaze locked with her's, gliding his thumb delicately against her cheeks and seals his promise with a kiss. 

"Promise." 

She lets him pull out and he shushes her wrecked whimpers with his lips. Falling to side with a large puff of breather and embraces her with his arm slinged around her shoulders protectively and she hides her face in his chest, mumbling incoherent things and he tries to stay with her emotionally and physically much as possible -- assuring her and soothing her with his sweet nothings. 

"Harry." She whispers softly and his ears perks up at that looking down at her with most loving eyes, "Hi baby." He giggles quietly kissing the tip of her nose and she sniffs cuddling into him. 

"Sorry —- " He shakes his head pinching her chin to make her look up. 

"You don't have to darling -- s'okay, everything's alright." After, making sure she's okay and giving her million re-assurances because he loves to he cleaned her with a damp wash rag. 

"Such a pretty babe." He makes her blush treating her as if she's a china glass doll who'd break at his slightest poke and showers her in praises and kisses because dunno who got her self-esteem and confidence like that but that person sure needs to get punched in their face. 

"Did I hurt you?" He asks tenderly applying a thin layer of cream on her red imprints. She shakes her intervining her fingers into his's one by one and kisses his knuckle, "No." 

"Good." He chuckles as if he was holding his breath. 

"How bout you take a lil nap and I see if I could bring us some brekkie, hmm?" He's gonna break his own rule. Taking food from mess area to your rooms and taking long showers was never allowed, having lights on after 12 because of the risk of attacks. 

"'M not hungry, please stay." Her eyes half open and her face buried into his scented pillow, "Dunno. But to me you look like y'could faint any time soon." He says sternly pulling a snugly clean duvet over her body. 

"Okie but come back quick." 

"Don't worry. In a snap I'll be infront of you." 

//

It's her fourth day here. She came out of his room to socialize just a day before and she realized from the nasty glowers thrown her way that not a single person likes her. 

But it felt like spending a lifespan with Harry. To fill the emptiness of all those moments of their childhood together they lost once after the war. 

She got to know he's the best cuddler and likes to be a small spoon, she loves to jetpack him. He seems rather scary and is scary when he's commanding people off -- they wouldn't dare but to speak a word over him but he's this big softie Y/N likes to squish in their privacy. 

He got her glasses fixed and put them over her nose with a mishevious kiss, she was unable to not to grin when he murmered against her lips, "Now you could punch me with your glasses on." 

"Seems like I don't have to do that anymore." She shrugged squealing afterwards when he threw her over his shoulder tickling her till all she coul see was him and stars. 

It was all going on track until now when she was passing through the lobby to go to Harry who's practicing out in field, "What are you doing here Alex?" She asks angrily grabbing his arm and he tells her feeling relieved she's okay, "I'm here to take you back." 

"But they don't want me back." She grits, he catches her wrist pleading her sadly, "We want you back -- Nia waits for you daily." Nia is his five years daughter. 

"I know that … but — " How she's gonna tell him she's in love with one person they despise with their whole hearts. 

"But what — "

"Alex!!" He was in the midst when she sees a bullet approaching his way from the side of his shoulder and screeches loudly pushing him aside, the bullet makes it's home in her chest. 

It was fired from Harry's gun with his own hands that were loving on her an hour ago. Life drains out of his body and he feels sickness approaching to split his throat, knees turning weak as he stares his shaking hand in horror. 

Before, he could do anything another bullet hits Y/N in shoulder knocking her to floor and this time it was one of his people, the shot was fired on instinct. 

"Put your gun down!!" He shouts at him shoving him away with a single forceful push and strides towards where the love of his life's laying in a pool of blood. 

He pulls his hair maniacly, falling to his knees and pulls her up in his lap cradling her head gently to press his lips against her forehead, "No,no,no,no baby." He sobs wiping his tears away harshly to see her properly. 

"Ouch. It actually hurts." She gives him a frail smile raising her shaky hand to cup his cheek. 

Will it hurt? 

You'll get to know after taking one. 

He wishes he could takes his words back. 

"You'll be fine, you're okay, 'm so so sorry moppet. Didn't-- didn't know y'were standing behind him, bu –-- but s'...s'okay yeah —-- call the doctor!! Why nobody has called him yet!!!" His scream thunders aggressively as everyone watches  their commander this defenceless and vulnerable infront of them for the first time in shock. 

"It's not your fault, okay?" She manages to speak groaning and eyes rolling back from pain residing in her bones torturesly, he cries out like a wounded puppy patting her cheek to keep her awake, "Please stay with me baby, please." Her chest tightens. His chest tightens from the fear of loosing her and he stands up carrying her bridal style tumbling his way on wobbly legs towards the medical ward in the building. 

His tears shiny droplets on her skin and she nuzzles into his fragrance for the last time. 

"There was no happy ending to this," She murmurs. Any, sign of life fading from inside her and replacing her eyes with stoness.

He brings her closer to himself, "hey, hey now none of that -- you're not leaving. 'M not letting you leave." He kicks open the door and lays her limp body on the stretcher. Snapping his head outrageously in every direction to find any doctor but none and drags his palms down his teary face.

He couldn't stop crying.

He's loosing the sunlight of his bleak life he must protect her at all costs.

But, life's prize is something that would have him selling all of what he had worked for and still he'd be unable to even bring her back from cold dark earth.

"Shit. Shit ---– I'll patch you up myself. I know how to take a bullet out — " He creates a ruckus around to collect stuff, "Harry! Harry! listen to me." but her hollow anguish calls for him breaks him at last. 

"How about you spend these last few minutes with me because 'm really 'bout to die commander." She tries to keep her anxious voice cheery but fails drastically coughing blood, "Don't say that baby -- I just got you, don't leave me, don't make me hate myself again." Sad tears trickles down her cheeks and he feels like fainting imagining the pain, agony and fear she's suffering from. 

She's hating to leave him.

"Maybe in afterlife, we could have a nice homely house, long warm baths and two smol kittens —- and oh I forgive you for kidnapping my cat." She admires him for the last time wiping his tears away and tries to lift his head that's lowered into shame. 

She's so fond of him at the moment.

She gulps, trying to gasp for oxygen feeling her heartbeat drop to zero, pleading him, "Tell me you love me before I go." His bloodshot eyes snap to her's and his chest heaves ruggedly with heartbreaking sobs -- his words full of sorrow tasting the bitterness of goodbye on her lips streaking away the blood on her mouth. 

"I love you so much, baby. Never stopped. Never will." She cries at last kissing him back with all the blood she has left pumping to her heart and tries to exchange the words but it was too late before she lost it all -- cold in his loving embrace. 

"Stay…." He begs praying like he did never before. 

"Y/N!!" He screams trying to shake her alive and hugs his angel to himself with mournful wails. 

Everyone standing outside the room knows that they'll never see this Harry again. 

[merakicharm]

SERENDIPITY

(part - 4)

"Do you think Kageyama will come for practice?" Kindaichi asked, looking at his boyfriend, before he pulled a shirt over his head.

Kunimi shrugged.

"Exchange students have to attend the same clubs they participated in at their schools, so he has to come, right?" Kindaichi persisted.

"I don't know" Kunimi hissed, annoyed. He really didn't want to discuss this. Kageyama was....a touchy topic and he really wished that anyone from Karasuno had been the exchange student, but Kageyama. Heck, even the Shrimp would have been better than this.

The door to the boys locker room opened. The Seijoh Coach strode in, the exchange students behind him.

"Ok boys, this will be your locker room, and you will use the free ones. Feel free to ask me or any other students, in case you have any confusions"

Saying this, he exited the room, leaving the boys to get changed.

Kunimi and Kindaichi watched the crowd curiously, just like the other Seijoh players in the room.

Tsukishima was the first person to separate himself from the crowd and move around, searching for his locker.

Which happened to be right next to the one that Kunimi used. Both gritted their teeth, very much annoyed.

"Kageyama senpai! Our lockers are here!"

Kindaichi turned to his left to see a boy, first year by the looks of it, opening the locker just one place away from his.

"Where's mine...?" the low husky voice, had Kindaichi gasping sharply.

Two places away, Tsukishima smirked.

"Here senpai!" the boy said again, his pale blonde curls flopping over his grey green eyes. He really had too long hair for a boy, it reached almost till the nape of his neck.

As Kindaichi watched, Kageyama emerged from around the corner, his expression somewhat annoyed. He looked to where his junior was pointing.

Even as Kunimi turned around to face the Karasuno ravenette, the boy seemed to have grasped the fact that his locker was right next to his former team mate's.

Heaving a sigh, and looking more irritated, Kageyama spoke.

"Hey Kagari, swap with me"

The boy paused, looking at his senpai. Kageyama's face bore a look of irritation, but when you looked closely, thought Tsukishima, you could clearly see the tinge of despair and fear.

"Well?" Kageyama asked, raising one of his eyebrows in question.

The boy nodded.

"Hai!"

"Thanks Kagari, I appreciate it" he said as he opened his duffel bag, refusing to look into the eyes of his crushes.

Which was good, since Kunimi and Kindaichi's faces were a mixture of emotions.

The real show began when Kageyama took off his shirt. At least for Tsukishima. He saw how Kindaichi's eyes seemed to almost thirstily take in Kageyama's abs and muscular arms. Kunimi had shut his eyes in an attempt, not to do the inevitable and it seemed to be working, albeit with a little too much effort. It was getting difficult for the SaltBottle to refrain from laughing aloud at the antics of the Seijoh players.

"Hey King! Let's go. We're gonna be late"

Kunimi's eyes snapped open in surprise. Kindaichi whipped around to face Tsukishima. They didn't get how he was calling Kageyama 'King' just like that.

Kageyama shrugged. That was what Tsukishima always called him, no matter what. He didn't mind. It'd be weird if he called him by his last name or first name.

Plus, that name reminded him of his faults, reminded him of how he had been, and what he had lost because of his stupidity. It reminded him of his royal cruelty. And right now, it reminded him, that he had no right to fall in love with the two boys standing but one place away from him. Or another pair of setter spiker boys.

Nope. He'd extinguished that hope with his 'King' like attitude and his 'natural talents'.

Sighing heavily at his depressing thoughts, he banged the locker door shut and waited for the first year setter beside him.

Kunimi grabbed Kindaichi by his arm, indicating clearly that he had had enough of this.

"Let's go", he said in his usual quiet voice.

Kindaichi let himself be dragged, not glancing again at the King. But just as Kunimi was about to open the door, someone else opened it from the other side.

A boy with midnight blue hair and black eyes stepped into the room. He was a little shorter than Kindaichi, and as he entered, he almost knocked over Kunimi, who was standing just by the door. Kindaichi supported him, preventing him from falling.

"Warui warui!" the boy spoke up immediately, apologetic. "I really should have been careful. Are you okay?" he looked at Kunimi, concerned.

Kunimi nodded, he'd just been surprised.

Kindaichi fussed over him.

Kageyama, watching all this drama, felt melancholic, knowing well that he would never be the receiver of those caring caresses.

The boy ran his eyes over the room, before he spotted Kageyama. A grin lit his face as he called out his friend's name.

Kageyama looked up.

"Anzai!" he was surprised.

It would entertaining to see the King's former soldiers getting jealous, thought Tsukishima, lips curving into an evil smirk.

"Go ahead with him," he indicated at the bluenette, "we'll follow along"

Kageyama nodded. He was glad of any excuse to escape from the room. He grabbed his friend's hand and pulled him out of the room, hurriedly.

He didn't notice how angry Kindaichi looked or how Kunimi was biting his lip in his attempt to keep his sanity.

Tsukishima was cackling on the inside.

The poor soldiers! They sure don't seem very happy that the King's social skills have improved!

"So? Aren't you supposed to be with swim club?" Kageyama asked his friend.

Whenever he thought of the word, he felt warm tingles go through him. After the incident at Kitagawa, he'd really thought that he was incapable of being friends with anyone.

Yamato was a friend, but then he was Kageyama's childhood friend who knew him inside out. He also had an open mind and inextinguishable optimism, putting up with Kageyama, even when he was at his rudest. He had stuck by him through the whole King of the Court thing, making him precious. But his real best friend was Hinata and Hinata alone.

Or so he had thought.

Until the ginger head and Suga had talked with him seriously about the need to make more friends, from outside of the volleyball club. He'd been reluctant, the old memories resurfacing, and hadn't put any effort into it. That was when Hinata, in a desperate attempt to make him sociable, spilled the beans about his past to his class. He'd been so in shock at the act, that he'd almost gone into one of his panic attacks.

Although his past revelations made his classmates understand him more, and he had made friends with people like Rikka, the class Prez, Mei, Subaru, among others, his best friend remained Hinata.

Up until Anzai arrived.

He introduced himself quickly, quietly, hood covering his head. He sat next to Kageyama and had actually slept through most of their classes. He never spoke to Kageyama, even when he needed something. He just tried to figure it out himself or gave up quickly.

As Kageyama told Hinata, 'it's like I'm sitting next to my own reflection'

Hinata had laughed a lot at that.

"Why don't you try making friends with him then? You'd be quite a pair."

For a while, Kageyama had been silent. Then he'd asked Hinata very seriously, whether he was fed up with their friendship. Although he had spoken calmly, his heart had been beating fast.

Hinata had shaken his head and explained how Kageyama was going to have to get over his fear of making friends or getting close to people. Kageyama had felt touched at how much his friend looked out for him and had decided to follow his advice, although he was doubtful.

The next day he'd tried to talk to Anzai and had been successful, although both of them, it turned out were just very socially awkward.

After four more months, Kageyama, Hinata, Anzai, Yamato, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Yachi, Mei, Kumiko, had become the best of friends.

In that time, Kageyama had discovered that Anzai had a dare devil streak to him, once you got to know him really well. Anzai had discovered that although Kageyama and he had almost the same likes and dislikes, there was a huge difference between their temperaments. Kageyama got crankier faster, to no one's surprise. Anzai was the slightly more cheerful of the two.

Now the pair were really close and had been delighted when they had got assigned to the same school. Kageyama hadn't still told him about his crushes though.

"Hmm? Oh first day so no practice apparently" his 'friend' answered now.

"Wanna try spiking my sets?" Kageyama challenged, smirking.

The swimmer answered with a smirk of his own.

"Sure!"

As the two boys rushed into the gym, Kageyama glanced at the boy, racing beside him, blue wavy locks fluttering in the wind. For a moment, as he squinted, there seemed to be a ginger haired boy running by him.

"Look straight ahead idiot!" Anzai panted out, "or you'll f-fall!"

He looked ahead but he saw faces flash past in the back of his mind.

Hinata, Anzai, Yamato, Yamaguchi, Yachi, Tsukishima, Noya, Tanaka senpai, the two captains, Suga, Asahi, Narita, Kinnoshita, the new first years, Mei, Kumiko.

"I win!!" Anzai pumped his fist in the air.

Uncharacteristically for him, Kageyama nodded. Anzai looked at him, surprised. A soft smile came on Kageyama's lips, as he thought,

I may have lost a race, but I think I'm winning the marathon.

[thewidowsghost]

The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 7

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

3rd Person POV

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts wakes up to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake freezes solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban, (Y/n) watching with a smirk on her face. The few owls that had managed to battle their way though the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

"I do feel so sorry," says Draco Malfoy during a Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home, or those who have to stay at someone else's house because they have no parents," he adds, (Y/n) staring at her perfected potion, her eyes flashing a silver before flickering back to green; Hermione shoots him a hateful glare.

The blond had been staring at Harry and (Y/n) as he had spoke, Crabbe and Goyle chuckling. Harry, who had been measuring powdered spine of lion-fish, ignores him. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing (Y/n) as Seeker next; then he'd realized that nobody had found this funny, because everyone had been so impressed on how well (Y/n) had managed to stay on her broom. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Harry and (Y/n) about having, either, no proper family, or no family at all.

(Y/n) had just turned in a vile of her potion, Snape looking at it, then nods, scribbling a 100 into his grade-book, nodding to the girl. "Ten points to Gryffindor," he announces to the class, everyone looking up, "for Miss (L/n)'s perfect potion." (Y/n) shoots a smirk at Malfoy, who had been trying to outdo her in Potions from the first class. Hermione, Harry, Ron, and the Spences hiding smiles as steam practically gushes from Malfoy's ears.

When they leave the dungeons at the end of Potions, they find a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound tells them that Hagrid is behind it.

"Hey Hagrid, need any help?" Ron asks, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm alright, thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" Malfoy's cold drawling voice comes from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose — that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron dives at Malfoy just as Snape comes up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron lets go of the front of Malfoy's robes.

"Professor, Malfoy was insulting his family," (Y/n) says, taking a step forward towards the Potions Master.

"Five points from Slytherin," Snape tells Malfoy, and Malfoy sends a hateful glare at (Y/n).

The Potions Master walks away and Malfoy turns to (Y/n).

"What's wrong Draco?" (Y/n) asks in false sympathy. "Feel bad being worse than a orphaned Mudblood?" she asks, stepping towards the blond.

"Shut up!" He says. "My father will hear about this (L/n), and then you'll be sorry," he says.

(Y/n) glances around, "Look's like he's not here. See you around, Blondie," (Y/n) says, turning around and walking back towards Hagrid and her friends, all of them were staring at her with wide eyes.

"That was bloody brilliant," Ron says, and (Y/n) laughs. "I'll get him," Ron says suddenly, grinding his teeth. "One of these days, I'll get Malfoy -"

"I hate them both, Snape and Malfoy," says Harry.

"Come on, cheer up. It's nearly Christmas," says Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

So the six of them follow Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick are busy with the Christmas decorations.

"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree — put it in the far corner, would you?"

The hall looks spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hang all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stand around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asks.

"Just one," says Hermione. "And that reminds me — Harry, Ron, (Y/n) we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

"Oh yeah, you're right," says Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who has golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and is trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

"The library?" says Hagrid, following them out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Harry tells him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."

"You what?" Hagrid looks shocked. "Listen here — I've told yeh — drop it.It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"Actually," (Y/n) interjects. "That's what their doing. Snape gave me extra homework over the break." (Y/n) rolls here eyes.

"Looks like being a Potions prodigy might not be such a good thing," Ron says, and (Y/n) rolls her eyes.

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," says Hermione.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry adds. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere — just give us a hint — I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm sayin' nothin'," said Hagrid flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," say Ron, and they leave Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurries off to the library.

They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. (Y/n) has the strangest feeling that she had heard or seen that name somewhere in her extra Potions homework. Flamel wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time;he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.

Hermione takes out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. (Y/n) had taken out her Potions homework.

Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and he knew he'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"What are you looking for, boy?"

"Nothing," answers Harry.

Madam Pince the librarian brandishes a feather duster at him.

"You'd better get out, then. Go on — out!"

Wishing he'd been a bit quicker at thinking up some story, Harry left the library. He, Ron, Hermione, and the twins had already agreed they'd better not ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure she'd be able to tell them,but they couldn't risk Snape hearing what they were up to.

Harry waits outside in the corridor to see if the other four had found anything, but he wasn't very hopeful. They had been looking for two weeks, after all, but as they only had odd moments between lessons it wasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they really need was a nice long search without Madam Pince breathing down their necks.

Five minutes later, Ron, Hermione, and (Y/n) join him, Ron and Hermione shaking their head; they go off to lunch.

"You will keep looking while we're away, won't you?" asks Hermione. "And send me an owl if you find anything."

"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," says Ron. "It'd be safe to ask them."

(Y/n) lets out a laugh as Hermione continues.

"Very safe, as they're both dentists," says Hermione.

That evening has Hermione and (Y/n) and (Y/n) packing, getting ready to leave the following morning.

(Y/n) flops down on her bed and Marvel jumps up, her paws placed on (Y/n)'s cheeks.

(Y/n) smiles at Hermione as throws a blanket over (Y/n) and her cat.

The next morning, Hermione wakes up (Y/n) and (Y/n) places Marvel in her basket.

(Y/n) places the straps on her guitar and slings it over her back.

The two take their packed trunks downstairs, making sure to say goodbye to Harry and Ron before they leave.

The sisters take the carriages down to the Hogwarts' Express and they board the train.

(Y/n) pulls out her Potions homework and works through it, but gets stuck on the last question. She runs her hands through her sleek (H/c) hair.

Thinking for a while, she finally finally finishes the question, pulls her trunk off the shelf, and puts her homework inside.

"I feel so accomplished," (Y/n) grumbles,  sitting back down and leaning her head against the window.

Marvel jumps out of her travel basket and hops into Hermione's lap.

(Y/n) glances at her guitar resting next to her in her seat before she picks it up and begins to strum.

Hermione smiles as (Y/n) finishes playing and then (Y/n) places the guitar on her back.

"Come on 'Mione," (Y/n) says pulling down her and her sister's trunks and Marvel's carrying basket.

Hermione's smile widens as she grabs her trunk and Marvel jumps onto her shoulder.

Hermione jumps down after (Y/n) and (Y/n)'s arm shoots out to steady Hermione as she stumbles.

Hermione beams at her sister and (Y/n) shakes her head, an amused light in her eyes.

The two walk through the barrier and it seems to be more dreary in the Muggle world then on Platform 9 and 3 Quarters.

"What happened?" (Y/n) murmurs to Hermione as they walk towards their parents.

"Hi Mum! Hi Dad!" Hermione says cheerfully and (Y/n) gives a little wave.

Mr. Granger gives (Y/n) a hug, and (Y/n) returns it warmly.

Mrs. Granger greets her adopted daughter with a kiss to the forehead and a hug.

"Hi Mum, Dad!" (Y/n) greets with a warm smile.

"Hi, girls," Mrs. Grangers says. "Let's get home."

"Best thing I've heard all day," (Y/n) says with a grin.

Mr. Granger laughs and the four - plus Marvel - walk out to the car.

"I dunno," Hermione says. "Your guitar playing skills are pretty great."

"Oh stop," (Y/n) says with a smile.

"I guess we'll have to hear it at home," Mrs. Granger says as Hermione and (Y/n) load their trunks into the boot of the car.

(Y/n) gently sets her guitar on the top of her trunk before Mr. Granger closes the boot.

(Y/n) climbs into the car next to her sister and Marvel jumps down to sit in between the two.

Listening to the radio on the way home, (Y/n) listens closely to the news:

"Legendary weapons developer Howard Stark, as well as his wife, was found dead a few days ago. The death of his parents seemingly haunted Tony Stark after the disappearance and presumed death of his daughter and girlfriend about ten years ago when he was around the age of nineteen."

Poor guy, (Y/n) thinks. Imagine loosing the love of your life, your daughter, and your parents. I guess I kind of know what that's like, though I wasn't old enough to comprehend it at the time.

Hermione glances over at her sister who was staring off into the distance.

As if sensing Hermione's gaze on her, (Y/n) looks back over at her with a warm smile.

Hermione shoots (Y/n) a quizzical look but (Y/n) shakes her head.

Marvel tilts her head and pads forward, thrusting her head under (Y/n)'s chin. (Y/n) smiles and scratches behind the kitten's ears.

(Y/n) strokes the kitten's black-and-white fur, remaining silent as the car ride goes on.

Once the four - plus Marvel - arrive back home, (Y/n) helps Mr. Granger unload the trunks from the back of the car, but not before slinging her guitar over her back.

Word Count: 2194 words

Love,           Kaitlynn ❤😘